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Natasha Regehr

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2023 Gratitude List

October 10, 2023 / / 0 Comments

It was over 15 years ago that I came upon the idea of keeping a gratitude list, and since then I have maintained the habit of taking a few minutes each evening to reflect on the goodness of the day.  Some days are naturally radiant, and sometimes it requires some serious excavating to find a glimmer of light.  But without fail, I have always found something for which to be thankful.

Nine years ago I began the tradition of posting the year’s list to my blog each Thanksgiving.  It’s a way for me to travel through the ups and downs of the year through a lens of positivity and good humour, and to share with others the little sparkles that have sustained me through that time.  I’ll warn you — it’s a rather long read; but maybe it will inspire you to find the sparkles in your year as well.  Happy Thanksgiving!

  • Advice is just advice
  • Triage
  • When things are calm
  • When conversations go well
  • When I finish reading OSRs
  • When I remember I have pretzels in the car
  • When there is no longer a dead squirrel on my driveway
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2022 Gratitude List

October 13, 2022 / / 1 Comment

It’s a few days late, but here is my annual Gratitude List — 365 days’ worth of small things noticed and appreciated. I now have 12 of these lists inhabiting my hard drive, and each one gives a snapshot of a year that is unlike those that came before. This year’s seems to be dominated by work, as I started yet another new job, and then another. There is always much to learn, much to celebrate, and much to leave behind as a fresh, new year unfolds. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

  • the lost, found
  • the smell of leaves under the tires of my bike, the weight of the handlebars, the whir of the wheels
  • pedalling, noticing, breathing
  • all of the things that are better than they were
  • I, who am competent…
  • I, who rocked that lesson
  • and she who left it before it fell apart
  • when the magic letters come together to make words
  • report cards done five days early
  • a down duvet
  • zoom friends
  • deliverance
  • the paperwork
  • a long prep period to rewrite my report card comments
  • when they learn things
  • the rain put a quick end to a very painful outdoor math lesson
  • I caught S prancing to the office for a banana
  • I kept last year’s sketchbooks
  • I caught the last half of my French class
  • tag is fun
  • L had a good day
  • The yellow water on the floor was largely ignored
  • extra quizzes
  • schoolyard coding
  • hamburger soup
  • a hair shuttle
  • an autumn walk to the Value Mart
  • getting some planning done
  • approval
  • they’re always good for no good reason
  • the explosion happened on someone else’s watch
  • I slept a long sleep
  • I’ve been other places, done other things, lived other lives
  • there is more to come
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Go Gently

January 18, 2022 / / 4 Comments

Work.  All my life, I have allowed it to define me.

As a student (even as a very young student), my work was to try to be the smartest kid in class.  Let’s face it.  I was a clumsy, homely child with thick glasses and a lazy eye.  But school, I could do.  And I did it well.  It became my “thing” —  so much so, that I decided never to leave. 

And so now, decades later, I get in my car every morning and drive 45 minutes to another school, where I pour all my energy into the young lives and minds before me.  I just want them to learn, so badly.  To light up with new words, new ideas, new ways of thinking. 

But today, I went too far.  Snow had been falling all night.  It was due to continue for hours.  School buses were cancelled.  Other teachers headed onto the streets and turned back because of the weather.  And I kept going.

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2021 Gratitude List

October 12, 2021 / / 2 Comments

A glance between the lines of this year’s Gratitude List will indicate that the last 12 months have not been easy. Here are the small and large kindnesses eased those difficult days, and the people who carried me through.

Thank-you.

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Remote (out of) Control

October 28, 2018 / / 1 Comment

Do you like the idea of going to remote places? If not, you will find this piece quite funny.  You will roll your eyes a lot, and wonder why I’m like this.  You will also spend the next few minutes thanking the merciful heavens that you did not join me on this vacation.

If, however, you do like the idea of going to remote places, this post might be just what you have been waiting for.  I, on your behalf, will visit a remote place, and tell you all about it.  And then you will laugh, roll your eyes, and think twice about your own vacation preferences. Continue reading

Do Not Enter

September 13, 2018 / / 1 Comment

Three years ago I had a disastrous encounter with a maestro who shall not be named.  It would not be a stretch to say that there were elements of trauma to that evening.  Before you go any further, you should probably read the amusing, but heart-wrenching account of my first audition experience in Casablanca.

Now, three years later, I did the unthinkable thing, and repeated the experience.  Same never-ending round-about.  Same obscure church entrance.  Same ghastly maestro.  Same everything.  But not the same me. Continue reading

DELF Unpacked: Don’t Ever Lose Faith

September 2, 2018 / / 5 Comments

Natasha here, reporting in on the aftermath of the infamous DELF B2.

I was worried.  Let’s find some better descriptors, now that I’m functioning in my mother tongue.  Words like chagrined, nausea-ridden, paralyzed.  I dreaded that exam.  My entire body was stiff with tension for eight solid weeks, from the moment I walked into my first class to the day after the inquisition.  My long-awaited summer in France turned out to be, in many ways, a summer of travail and trepidation.

And then, just like that, I passed.  Not just by the skin of my teeth.  Not just with a satisfactory margin of breathing room. Not quite with the flying colours I secretly dreamed of.  But almost.  Almost.

At one point, I re-coined the DELF acronym (“Diplome d’Etudes en Langue Française”) as “Dumb, Enigmatic Lists of Faults.”  I still kind of think that.  The test-makers are simply méchants, in my well-studied opinion.  They rub their hands in delight as they formulate one trick question after another, in a sinister attempt to separate the dumb from the dumber.  I know.  I met one of them.  And she was mean.

But do you know what it was that bumped my score down two points from the 80% I’d hoped for?  Continue reading

Venez!

August 28, 2018 / / 4 Comments

A few weeks ago, I posted my very first French blog.  I am re-posting it today, with two critical changes:

  1. For those of you who asked for an English version of the original story, scroll down to the end to find a rather crude translation.
  2. For those of you who are curious to hear my weird Canadian-Moroccan-American-French accent, I have added an audio recording of the story as well.  It will make you laugh, even if it’s not supposed to.  Which it is.

Audio Version:

(with many thanks to my good friend in Vichy, for teaching me how to say “hockey” in French, and for letting me teach her a few Canadianisms as well)  

For those of you who didn’t read the original story and have no idea what I’m talking about, here’s where it all began…

Original Story:

This summer I got to do a little creative writing in my French class! We were asked to write a funny story that exaggerates the stereotypes that foreigners have of our home countries.  My Spanish, Mexican, Brazilian, Korean, American, and Basque classmates shared their stories, and then I offered up this little piece of Canadiana, inspired in part by our beloved Bob and Doug McKenzie.

Warning: This is my very first blog-worthy French composition.  There might be errors.  You might be offended.  Be gentle with me.

Venez! Venez! Venez au Canada! On vous accueille, comme on accueille tout le monde, tout le temps! Venez!

Dès que vous arriverez, on vous mènera à votre igloo, où vous dormirez en tout confort, en portant votre anorak et votre toque!

Le lendemain matin, vous prendrez votre déjeuner (au Canada, nos repas sont tous mélangées): un bonne portion de poutine avec une bonne portion de bière (Molson Canadian, bien sûr).  On vous donnera vos patins pour votre premier match de hockey.

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La magie des mots

August 10, 2018 / / 2 Comments

Something has happened to my French, and it’s because I’ve made a friend.

She is a retired doctor.  She’s travelled the world.  She has a tiny little dog called Charmeur.  And she loves words.  Words thrill her, as they do me.  I read her paragraphs from books that stir me, and she recites poetry with all the animation of a master story-teller, and we delight together in this magical, magical space called language.

It’s a space that we inhabit together while seated at the Grand Casino Cafe, so named for its proximity to what used to be a casino, but is now something else.  It’s a space that we inhabit together over tea, coffee, kir, water, chocolate.  It’s a space we inhabit through the careful completion of grammar exercises, the meticulous correction of essays, and the endless parroting of phonetics.  It’s a space we inhabit from 12:15 – 1:45 every day, and it is changing me. Continue reading

Faux French, Riviera Style

July 11, 2018 / / 2 Comments

Have you been wondering how I’ve been faring since I bade farewell to les vaches?

I am slowly adjusting to life on the French Riviera.

Slowly.

My drive here was uneventful, except for that time my GPS became my enemy and led me in circles for two hours in downtown Nice during the height of tourist season.  Navigation systems don’t do well with pedestrian-only streets.  That’s all I’ll say about that.

And now I am perched on a hill overlooking the uppity town of Villefranche-sur-mer, with its uppity yachts, BMWs, and fake hedges. Why anyone would need a fake hedge in this lotus land is beyond me, but there it is.  Why water a real hedge when you can buy a fake one?

No, to be honest, I’m missing the friendly, down-to-earth charm of my village in the Alps.  Well, okay, the cows were not so friendly.  But there was an endearing honesty to that place, a sense that life had substance, and that everything else was somehow false.

Not so with the French Riviera.  Everything here feels half-empty, like the soul of the place just drained out into the Mediterranean when the people all arrived. I’m sure at one time it was quaint and delightful and historically significant; but right now, it feels to me like a toy neighbourhood, constructed out of blocks and toothpicks and dotted with plastic accessories.  Doll houses, all, papered in Euros…

But I, too, am a falsehood, here on the French Riviera.

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