Mensa Word List: Hip Lash

What does one call the injuries one gets from an elevator that suddenly jerks or when an articulated bus (where one happens to be standing at the extreme rear) hits a pot hole with its last axle?


It's not whip lash, because the injury isn't to the neck or head, since the position one is in is standing: it affects the waist because one's knees are typically locked--according to me its called HIP LASH...ask me how I know! I'm sure this would qualify for the mensa word list (for example, Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period), as it's only a removal or insertion of one letter to create a new meaning of a word or phrase. Any other suggestions, wordies?

So back to the Hip Lash I incurred: Think of instant compression of the Thorasic-Lumbar directly into the saccral-coccix....yet my feet never actually left the "ground". Those of you who have traveled in a bus on cobblestones, particularly in front of the Royal Palace on the way to the European Commission Buildings will know EXACTLY what I experienced today...AARRRRGH!

Matthew and I were laughing and almost crying at the same time because it was so rediculous with our "bus surfing"! Due to the crowds, the boys were seated but the adults had long ago given up their seats to other transit riders, inspite of our Christmas packages. When this extra-long bus went around a corner Matthew and I became intimate in an instant way...not that I minded, but it was a public place, recall! I think the 1.60 Euro I spent was a better ride than any I've had in a carnival or fall fair...now if only it came with included padding and contraception?

"Now, that didn't take long!"

We're now reconnected--ALERT!! You can now call our Toronto line again and get us in balmy Brussels--and please do!

Ah, the benefits of international telephoning via the internet...for just the low, low price of 35 CAD a month the Rose-Zadow family has two email addresses, unlimited calls to all Canadian area codes 416, 647, 905 and 287 and a voice mailbox...but with priviledges come responsibilities--like being polite to those "GD telemarketers"!!

IT TOOK A WHOLE 120 MINUTES BEFORE BELL CANADA REGISTERED OUR LINE TO THE FIRST-- "Hello, my name is Rashid and I have noticed you enjoy making international calls. Would you be interested in our special, limited time offer...?"

Here's my response, a bit cocky: "Um, thanks so much for your time, Rashid, but you see, you're calling me in BELGIUM on my Voice-over-IP phone, and I get free calls all over the world with this and SKYPE, so I have no interest whatsoever in your service. Good luck with the next call you have to make!"... Was that too polite? Should I have told him to take that headset and shove it in his curry hole? Perhaps a bit rash..."Um, Rashid, don't you want to wait tables in a tourist trap in Goa instead of doing this job? Aren't the hours better? You can at least see your friends when they come in for a coffee after their 1 a.m. shift is over..."

I will stop being sardonic (oops, and should I be much less R......t?) for a few sentences to tell you that we're launching into Christmas with a great amount of energy...here's a pic of our modest tree and our youngest... there's not much under the tree yet, but I'm not off work for another 3 days, so haven't done ANY shopping for those I love...soon. There is a great department store called Inno (similar to Holt Renfrew) that I'll visit if only to see what I can get cheaper elsewhere...starting Friday at 4:00 p.m.

Now for our holiday dinner...I am really hankering for the turkey. We missed it at Thanksgiving, though the school did one for the American festivity and it was really good with the pumpkin pie, stuffing (tho' because of the Belgian chef at school, it tasted a bit too much like herbes de Provence--sound familiar, Mary?) and all the trimmings. This will certainly fill a few of the corners of our tummies--or at least my eldest--have a look at those abs! Honest, we're feeding him...he's just burning those calories like a young boy should!!

thankfulness

Friday was my most recent day at work...we've all been sick here (check out matthew's blog here to learn the reasons and details) so my most recent memory of my students and lessons I have taught came back to me today on Rememberance/Armistice/Veterans' Day.

Friday while some children attend mass, the rest of us have "character education" hour where we discuss the Primary Years Program Student attitude of the month (thankfullness) or the value of the month (appreciation) or something topical. This day they all came into the discussion, thanks to a colleague's idea to read a picture story to the kids around the concepts of war, remembrance and sacrifice. This story, called "War Game" was about a group of British teens who obsessed about football (soccer) and how they were caught up in the glory of signing up for war in 1915 only to find that the glory was fictional--mud, gore, exhaustion, hunger and cold were the realities. The story goes (and fly-leaf states it is based on truth) that the rains abated only to have a frigid cold snap come upon them mid December, in fact just on Christmas eve. The "enemy" was not very far away and the Brits could hear their conversations when the shells slacked off and on that evening, could hear the words to their carols as well. There was an unofficial cease-fire and the return volley wasn't another round of ammunition, but choruses of christmas tunes that each knew in their own language. As the story goes, the young soldiers of both sides got out of their trenches and greeted each other with words of peace and good will. Enough English was spoken that they were able to share some good conversations and shared experiences. By morning, the hoar frost had whitened everything and the soldiers saw it as a fresh start, inspite of the bodies of their mates that hadn't been retrieved out of no-mans-land yet. Another greeting over the trenches was made, and sharing of christmas treats--tobacco, chewing gum, chocolate, and writing paper. From somewhere, a football came out and instantly, a game without rules and without score keeping began. Hats and helmets acted like goalposts, Brits in Khaki, and the Germans in Grey, and each played until the jackets were discarded and the nationalities blended. The young men on each side found it in their hearts to shake hands and again enjoy each others' company until the end of the day. By next day, the commanding officers had heard these stories on both sides and were none too pleased. An organizing general was coming in and wanted to see real battle at 15:30 the next day. Someone from the German side leaked over information to the Brits and told them to keep their heads down starting at 3:00 p.m. that day, so that no one would get hurt. Meanwhile, the german front guard was replaced by other soldiers, unfamiliar with their mate's new friends. The bombings ensued and the war progressed, but the Brits never forgot their momentary cease-fire, their shared caroling and their christmas day football match where no one won. Or lost. That day.

And in order that we didn't lose the moral of the story or the purpose of the hour, I had a copy of "In Flanders Fields" with me, written by Dr. McCrae, a Canadian. I started reading it, and to my surprise, many of the kids joined in with me. They had learned it by heart last year in grade 4 and knew the story well of how it was written. I choked up a bit at this, as there aren't a lot of references to Canada's war efforts in my school (being run by Americans) but this was one of them, and a sound one at that. I told the kids of people I know who are in service right now (Don, you came to my heart) and those who did their part for their country. We each in turn shared memories of those we knew who were either in that war, or other conflicts. One Korean girl told me of her dad who was lucky that he was too young by a few years to see active duty while in mandatory service. Another German child said his grandad was a commander in the army (when would that have been? 60's? He wasn't sure). The recollections were international and encompassed the last 75 years...incredible how broad these children's experiences span and each can share them peacefully with each other. I think that's the thing I'm most thankful for...that and my fun loving family, as seen here: