Getting organized, 2019 style

I like to be organized. I like my stuff to be organized, my desk to be organized (when I’m not actively in the midst of a project!) and my schedule to feel organized.

In fact, this Christmas I got a beautiful Ikea pegboard and accoutrements to organize my art supplies and I couldn’t be happier:

Paint brushes, coloured pens, a whole box of Blackwing pencils… I could sit and look at this for days!

However, I’m always on the quest for a better planner system. If you follow me on Twitter, you’re probably familiar with my Leuchtturm1917 notebook system– a sort of cross between bullet journalling (but not as pretty) and Raul Pacheco-Vega’s Everything Notebook. It’s worked really well for me for the past two years, but with four major jobs/projects on the go, it’s feeling a little too messy and higgledy these days.

This year, thanks to Instagram, I learned about the Pretty Pretty Planner (PPP), designed by @faustine2012 and available as a free PDF download on her blog. It’s beautiful! I like the colour scheme and the monthly calendars and the week at a glance.

Faustine uses the Levenger Circa system, which features a disc system with a special punch. You can rearrange the pages of your notebook to your heart’s content, adding and removing as you wish.

So I’m taking my favourite aspects of all these different ideas and trying to mash something together: grid layouts, page-a-day (with flexibility for more), customizable on-the-go, and different sections for different projects.

While the Circa system offers a plethora of beautiful covers and coloured discs, Staples offers a slightly cheaper option with their Arc system, which is available in stores in Canada. Faustine tells me the two systems are interchangable. So I’m going to go with the Arc for now and if I decide to stick with it, I’ll invest in a beautiful cover and rings from Levenger.

My new pages are designed to work in combination with the lovely calendar spreads from Faustine. I’ve used the Pretty Pretty Planner (PPP) colour scheme for my pages, so it should all work together.

Fingers crossed the system works– I’ll report back at the end of the semester.

Now, if I could just find the perfect handbag, I really would be organized!

In my usual spirit of sharing, I’m making my pages available for download as PDF files under CC-BY. They are intended for individual and/or educational use, with source attribution. They are not to be sold commercially. Follow the link above to download the original Pretty Pretty Planner.

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Download Page-a-Day addition to PPP. The file is designed to be printed double sided. There are eight colour options included. Pages are undated. Letter size, portrait orientation.

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Download To-Do addition to PPP. A single-sided to-do list. Letter size, portrait orientation.

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Download grid paper addition to PPP. Print double-sided or as two single sided. Letter size, portrait orientation. 



Teaching students how to student

There’s an expression about how the shoemaker’s children have no shoes. Well, the social media consultant is terrible at her own social media!

I’ve clearly fallen behind in my New Year’s resolution of a blog post a month. I thought I might catch up when I had a month off work this summer, but somehow social media was the last thing I wanted to work on.

But I’m back at work now and busier than ever. In fact, this fall will be the most paid work I’ve had at once since I quit a full time job to go back to school a decade ago.

I’m have resumed my social media work with the Faculty of Humanities at the university and what a difference a year in the job makes! I feel really comfortable in the position, now that I’ve figured out what I need to be doing, and I’m seeing the benefits of the connections and network I’ve been building. I’m really looking forward to the year ahead!

I’ve also been fortunate to pick up several other small contracts to flesh out my hours and paycheque. I’ve just started working with our Centre for Pedagogical Innovation (CPI) where I’m helping out with a number of very interesting projects, including TA training, support for those teaching large classes, and research into the perceptions of the value of teaching. I have a lot of experience as a teaching assistant (TA) in the classroom and even helping professors develop pedagogical resources, so it’s exciting to be thinking and learning about pedagogy from a different perspective.

Finally, if enrolment numbers permit, I may get to spend a little time in the classroom again this year as a TA.

Which relates to the Twitter thread I want to share with you. @atrubek shared this really great thread tonight and it so important! I think when we’re teaching it’s so easy to get caught up in the transmission of content and forget about the transmission of skills. I don’t mean discipline-specific skills, but the “how to be a student” skills.

It’s easy, when we’ve been academics for 5, 10, 15 years or longer to forget that we, too, started someplace. We didn’t enter university knowing everything. Sure, we like to think we were more self-sufficient and self-starting than “today’s students” but hindsight can have a gloss superiority to it.

Our students come to us from a wide variety of backgrounds and face a diversity of pressures that we may not have faced.

In my case, for example, my mother had attended university and I had two older sisters in university as well, so I had lots of support at home in navigating the system and knowing what I needed to do.

But not every student has that privilege. Some will be the first in their families to attend university. Some will be far from home and perhaps struggling to make friends and navigate a strange system with strange titles like “registrar” and “dean” and “chair,” never mind the myriad of acronyms we use without thinking!

High school today is different from high school “back in our day.” Again, students will have had a diversity of experiences and come with–or without– skills we deem necessary.

So @atrubek’s thread is such a timely reminder. We need to not assume that our students know how to navigate the system socially or how to access resources. We need to teach them how to take effective notes, how to use the library, how to identify a scholarly resource, what a database is.

Because after the final exam, the student may very well never think about our course content again. But they will be taking other courses, and we can equip them with the skills they need to succeed there, too–whether it’s something we teach directly, or we direct them to campus resources.

We don’t just teach content, we teach students how to be students.

in defence of millennials

This morning on Twitter the hashtag #HowToConfuseAMillennial is trending and of course it is filled with the usual stereotypes of millennials being ignorant, spoiled, precious snowflakes who expect the world handed to them on a silver platter. It makes me so angry.

I am only a few years off from being a millennial myself. Because I went back to university after working for a while, I identify much more with millennials than whatever my generation is. I’m in the same life stage as some millennials: trying to transition out of university life and into the working world, struggling still to find permanent employment in an economy that really sucks (through no fault of our own, I might add), and pay off the heavy student loans we acquired because, unlike earlier generations, a single university degree rarely seems to be enough to find employment and working unpaid internships has become de rigeur. 

I went to university with millennials and many of my close friends are millennials. They are establishing lives of their own as contributing members of society. They are raising children and trying to make their way in an economy that is not friendly to all (do the people writing the think pieces appreciate how much childcare costs these days?). We follow several generations that had unprecedented economic and education benefits. We can’t expect to get jobs without post-secondary education, so not attending college or university isn’t an option. Our predecessors could work the summer and pay their year’s university tuition; they defaulted on their student loans to the point that now, the only way to “get out of” OSAP (government) debt is death. Seriously. OSAP loans are immune to bankruptcy because an earlier generation of post-secondary students didn’t want to pay their thousand dollar debt. Now, we are graduating with $20k debt into no jobs, insecure part time jobs, or unpaid internships. We are criticized for living with family and not buying our own homes, but how can you buy a house when you can’t make a living wage? We didn’t create this economy; the people complaining about us not working did.

I have spent the past nine years teaching millennials in the university classroom and they are a diverse and fantastic bunch. I love my students. I love their energy and passion and their desire to learn. They are contributing to their society through their jobs and volunteer work. They are dealing with unprecedented anxiety levels and pressure to do well so they can get a job somewhere, somehow when they are done their degrees. They are struggling with financial and academic pressures in a social, political, and economic climate very different to that of the preceding generation. 

The millennial generation is as varied as any other. Are there millennials that fit the entitled stereotype? Sure, but there are entitled people in EVERY generation. They’re not unique to the millennial one. And before blaming them for being self-important, special little snowflakes, let’s take a minute to ask WHY they might be that way. Who raised them? Who gave them participation trophies and minimized competition so no one’s feelings got hurt? Who passed their school assignments so they wouldn’t feel the sting of failure or be left behind their friends? It wasn’t the millennials. It was the people now complaining about the millennials.

So if you want to confuse a millennial, here’s how: Tell them they need a university degree, but saddle them with debt. Shame them for living with their families, but price them out of the housing market. Criticize them for not working hard enough while you retire to sunny climes. Tell them they’re lazy for not working, but run the economy into the ground so there aren’t enough secure jobs to go around.  Tell them they need to be saving for retirement by the time they’re thirty, but don’t pay them a living wage. Sneer at them for being entitled after you’ve spent their lives telling them they are.

how twitter can make me a better human being

My experience with Twitter is changing me as a human being.

Twitter challenges me to pay attention to how I use gendered language. How do I talk about groups of people? Do I choose words that are inclusive of all genders, or do I fall into the familiar trap of thinking and speaking in the old male/female dichotomy? Am I willing to accept and to try to understand people whose presentation does not fit with traditional ideas of ‘man’ or ‘woman’? Do I listen to their experiences and allow their voices to be heard or do I participate in silencing them?

Twitter makes me pay attention to how people are shamed and stigmatized in my ‘real’ world. Do I participate unwittingly in shaming those who are different from me? Do I make judgements about people based on their size or clothing choices? Do I think less of people who struggle in a system that seems set on keeping them in poverty? Do my words and actions make people feel valued and beautiful and strong? Or do I distance myself from them by my words and actions and attitudes?

Twitter lets me listen to people’s lived experiences. Will I listen only to the stereotyped stories on the evening news or will I listen to the experiences of those whose lives are so different from mine? Am I buying into the systemic racism (which benefits me) or am I willing to challenge it? Will I give less weight to a woman’s word when she speaks out against a famous man? Whose version of events do I choose to believe–the versions told by perpetrators of injustice or the stories of the victims of injustice?


15 Things Not to Say

A friend shared this article “15 Things Not to Say to Someone with a Chronic or Invisible Illness” on Facebook, and it is so well written and so accurate, I want to share it as widely as possible. Please take a moment to read this! Things that you think might be encouraging or supportive to say can easily come across as dismissive and belittling.

promises of spring

My personal barometer tells me that spring is happening. The snowbanks outside might not look like it, but there is definitely some warmth creeping back into the sunshine and the temperature fluctuations indicate the annual battle between the shifting seasons. Even though my body hates the weather issues, spring is my favourite of the seasons and I am feeling somewhat desperate for this year. I did see a robin on February 13th chirping at me from atop a snowbank and on the 19th I found a pussywillow out in soft grey buds. Perhaps the robin and the willow were just confused, but I am clinging to them as signs that spring is coming.


Spring. Squelching through vernal pools and delightful mud puddles. Listening to the songs of mating frogs and finding tadpoles in spring pools. Daffodils and hyacinths, my favourite of the spring bulbs, pushing their green noses through the dark, moist earth to share their brilliant colours and fragrance. The red haze, already on the maple trees as sap begins to flow up from deep roots to the topmost branches, turns to red buds and spider-like flowers, then finally tiny umbrella leaves. Clouds of apple and pear blossoms, alive and humming with life, laden dark limbs. Dozy bees bumbling through lilacs. Shimmery beetles and chubby grubs return with clouds of butterflies. Worms trace their trails through soft mud in the misty mornings. Morning bird song changes as robins and blackbirds return. Creatures of all sizes, from insects to toads and snakes, basking in the warm sunshine. Purple violets peeking through the freshly green grass. Warm, sun-dried laundry scented with fresh-cut grass. Fresh thunderstorms rinsing away winter’s grim and leaving clean, rain-scented air filled with cheerful bird song.

Yup, I am ready for spring.

doodling doodles

Are you a doodler? Did you used to be a doodler? I used to be a doodler, way back in my teenager years. I had a collection of stock characters I liked to doodle. I even developed my “bunny bum” doodle for a first year university art project. But somewhere along the line I forgot about doodling. It drifted into the background, into the past, and I never missed it nor thought about it.

My favourite bunny bums painting
Bunny Bums.
My favourite bunny bums painting. I developed the bunny bum doodle in high school and later turned it into a first year university art multi-piece art project. But that was a very long time ago.

Until yesterday, when I heard Sunni Brown interviewed on CBC’s The Current about the secret power of doodling. She’s inspired me give doodling a shot again. Her book on the doodling revolution is definitely on my must-read list. I’ve started a Pinterest board of doodles–and found that there are already many in existence.

So we’ll see how this goes. I’ll post some results here eventually. Won’t you join me in remembering the joys of doodling?


The Silk Road

This is another post from the past, written while I was in Turkey in 2009. It was originally typed on a Turkish keyboard, so the ‘i’s have no dots.

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May 12, 2009
Sultan Hanı Caravanseraı 

The Sultan Hanı ıs a Caravnseraı on the road between Avanos and Konya (I thınk?) as part of the old trade routes. Caravanseraı were buılt along the route every 20 mıles, whıch ıs the dıstance a camel traın could travel ın daylıght. These are real forts, wıth thıck, hıgh walls and one entrance. As we entered through the ornate Selçuk gateway ınto the empty, weedy courtyard, my mınd began to populate the place wıth people and anımals. I ımagıned the noıse and bustle of actıvıty as camel traıns entered and travellers found space for themselves, theır cargo and theır anımals for the nıght. After unloadıng the camels and beddıng them down for the nıght (I am sure, lıke most who care for anımals, that they put theır anımals ahead of themselves) the weary travellers could conduct trade, have a Turkısh bath in the small hamam, conduct theır prayers ın the small, raısed prayer room ın the center of the courtyard or sleep ın one of the hıgh-ceılınged rooms. In summer the camels were housed ın the long, open stable along one sıde of the courtyard. In wınter, the anımals were taken ınto the cathedral-esque stables at the rear of the courtyard. Thıs space, dıvıded by many arches and pıers, ıs lıt by hıgh wındows whıch allow the heat to rıse and escape the buıldıng. Cool, dark and quıet except for the cooıng of a multıtude of pıgeons, one can ımagıne the noıse and heat of men unloadıng and feedıng theır camels and shoutıng at the uncooperatıve ones whıle the camels themselves snorted, stomped and made whatever noıses camels make ın the semı-darkness.

Muhammad the camel carries tourists up and down a short stretch of road in Cappadocia.
A camel– just in case you weren’t sure.

Sılk road 

Part of our journey followed one of the routes of the ancıent Sılk Road. As we travelled I was transfıxed by the beauty of the Turkısh countrysıde. It truly felt as though I were lıvıng ın a Natıonal Geographıc magazıne artıcle. We passed tent ‘vıllages’ of mıgrant (mostly Armenıan) workers. We passed men and women workıng ın theır fıelds—and more often than not thıs was true physıcal labour, workıng wıth theır hands rather than machınery. We passed flora and fauna (ıncludıng at least three whıte storks and one black one) and fıelds of beautıful yellow and purple flowers. The farm fıelds are not laıd out ın clean, precıse grıds lıke we are used to ın Canada; rather, they are fıtted ın at odd angles and shapes as the terraın allows. Much of the soıl we saw ın Cappadoccıa was sandy and stoney, not the fertıle clay-loam of southwestern Ontarıo. The fıelds were unfenced and we passed mıxed herds of cows grazıng whıle a herdsman watched over them. As we passed through vıllages we saw a mıx of tractors and horses used for haulıng wagons. Unlıke ın Canada, farmers lıve ın vıllages wıth theır anımals and go out ınto the countrysıde to work ın theır fıelds. The vıllages had a very grıtty feel to them that made me wonder why I was born wıth the luxurıes that I was.

One view of the varied Turkish countryside.
One view of the varied Turkish countryside.

An Aladdin’s Cave of Colour

This is another post from the past, written while I was in Turkey in 2009. It was originally typed on a Turkish keyboard, so the ‘i’s have no dots. This carpet workshop made quite an impression on me. It served not only as a place to sell carpets, but a place to train women in the traditional methods of making Turkish carpets. Their carpets are sold here, allowing women and girls to bring in some income for their families. Someday, if I’m ever wealthy, I would love to go back here and pick up some amazing, authentic Turkish carpets and support these women.

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May 12, 2009
Avanos Halı (Carpet workshop) 

The Avanos Halı ıs an Aladdın’s cave of beautıful carpets. There are 57 showrooms housıng more than 10,000 carpets. There ıs also a workshop where some women, graduates of theır carpet-makıng programme, knot carpets of varıous sızes on large looms, as well as rooms demonstratıng how sılk thread ıs spun from the cocoons and how wool ıs dyed naturally.

The Avanos Halı traıns women ın rug makıng and graduates of theır programme go on to work for them, eıther makıng rugs ın theır workshop on sıte or doıng the work from theır homes. Theır hands fly at lıghtnıng speed and ıt ıs easy to see why Turkısh rugs are so expensıve. Usıng eıther the sıngle or double knottıng method (the latter ıs only used ın Turksıh rugs), they make rugs wıth up to 25 knots per square cenımeter. Turkısh rugs are the only ones that use the double knot method. Knots are tıed ın a varıety of colours followıng a pattern that looks much lıke a cross-stıtch pattern. Perıodıcally, the women trım off the tufts of thread from the knots; after ıt ıs fınıshed, the carpet ıs then run through a machıne that trıms the pıle evenly. Sınce the rugs take anywhere from months to years to complete, the women are paıd accordıng to the number of knots they tıe rather than the number of rugs they make. Rugs can be made wıth sılk knotted on sılk, wool on wool, wool on cotton, or cotton on cotton. Sınce sılk threads are the fınest, these are used to make exquıstely detaıled carpets wıth as many as 20 to 25 knots per square centımeter. Naturally, these are of hıghest qualıty and quıte costly. The delıcate and precıse detaıls on these rugs ıs remınscent of very fıne embroıdery. Sınce wool ıs a bulkıer thread, these have lower thread counts and a loftıer pıle.

Each rug ıs ınspected by a government offıcıal and a lead seal ıs affıxed ıf ıt ıs approved. Thıs ındıcates that the rug ıs government certıfıed and guaranteed. Interestıngly, rugs become more valuable as they are used. Wear on the carpets releases lanolın from the wool, whıch condıtıons the fıbers.

Carpet colours and motıfs vary regıon by regıon. In Cappadocıan carpets we see medallıons (ındıcatıng the power of the sultan), a fıgure wıth her hands on her hıps, flowers (ındıcatıng good news) and symbols ındıcatıng eternal lıght. In another regıon, scorpıons are knotted ınto the pattern to ward off real scorpıons and stıll other rugs have a prayer nıche pattern. The workshop produces reproductıons of museum pıeces as well as creatıng ıts own patterns. I lıke the rugs whıch come from the Eastern part of Turkey because of the muted colours and the stylızed anımals. However, I thınk my favourıte rugs are those from Mılas. The yarns ın those rugs are coloured from the tobacco plant, whıch ıs grown there specıfıcally for that purpose and gıves beautıful muted earth tones.

Watchıng the women work and the sılk beıng spun and the wool beıng dyed wıth natural dyes made me feel very close to the centurıes of tradıtıonal carpet makıng. Asıde from the spınnıng machıne for the sılk, the technology behınd the knottıng and dyıng ıs quıte sımple. It ıs also fascınatıng to thınk about how certaın artıstıc motıfs that we have seen on thıs trıp are repeated ın dıfferent medıa; the tıle desıgns we have seen ın the Sultan Ahmet Camii (Blue Mosque) or the Rustem Pasham Mosque are here presented ın soft, warm rugs.

thoughts on a lycian tomb above simena

This is another post from the past, written while I was in Turkey visiting the Lycian tombs above SimenaFour and a half years later, this remains one of my very favourite photos, writings, and memories, from the trip. It was originally typed on a Turkish keyboard, so the ‘i’s have no dots. 

Lycian tomb, with ancient olive tree, above Simena, Turkey.
Lycian tomb, embraced by an ancient olive tree, above Simena, Turkey.

There would be no more perfect place to be dead than here hıgh on thıs clıff overlookıng the wıne dark sea where your lıfe was lıved. Your bones are cradled now ın death by the ancıent olıve whıch once nourıshed them ın lıfe. The buzzıng beetles sound your funeral dırge and the sure-footed goat forms the only processıon ın memorıal of your death. The tımelss sun warms the stone of your tomb and the earth embraces your dust untıl only the olıve remembers.