I suck at speaking French. In fact, I don't even suck -- I just can't do it at all. I swear I can make up conversations in my head en français, but when it comes to getting anything coherent out of my mouth, I'm completely useless.
It's something I need and want to overcome, but I just don't know how. I'm exposed to a lot of language here at home and around my neighbourhood, but it's not helping at all. I'm often able to respond correctly (in English) to questions posed in French: Do you have an air miles card? Do you need a bag? Is there anything I can help you with... But even though the answers require just one word, I still manage to say them in English! I can't even manage to add an et vous? to the end of Bien, merci.
My oral understanding is only slightly better than my speaking. It's pretty hit and miss what I catch and what I totally miss. (In which case, my best laid plans for Je suis desolée, je ne parle pas français fall by the wayside and I just scrunch up my face and whine Um, sorry?) The kids and their grandmaman I can follow fairly well, and occasionally a stranger speaks either slowly enough or without the Gatineau accent that I can at least nod or shake my head appropriately. (Like the girl in Planète Foot who helped us pick out a soccer jersey for Ben. Somehow I knew what was going on there.) A fellow at the bus stop asked me if the bus came on the half hour, and I was able to answer that it came at 11:20 and 11:50. (I answered in French! I at least know my numbers.) But I think he was actually an English speaker who assumed I was French...
The other day, I forced myself to inquire about and ask for bus tickets in French. I practiced the very simple sentences in my head for like, two days. And I still sputtered and stuttered, turned red, and ultimately mixed up veux and peux, and failed to add the s'il vous plait! Thanks to the young lady at the cash who had the restraint to not roll her eyes (she simply handed me the tickets and clearly tried to not switch to English; she was humouring me).
At least I've mastered Merci, bonne journée/soirée, so I can end my pathetic interactions on a somewhat positive note.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Honest, but hedging his bets
Hello Père Noël,
I don't believe in you but I want some spy games but I have a song for you: Papa and Maman it's Noël, it's Noël...
And then something about a baby that may or may not be thrown into the street... ("on veut des bébé les j'en n'ai eu ben jette les dans la rue"??)
The spirit of Christmas takes many forms...
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Winter walkathon
I opted out of a trip to the gym today because I had planned a trip to a Christmas party with the coworkers at my ex-place-of-employment. Because of the bus strike and my lack of car, I can only get transport to about halfway, leaving a 3 km walk across the bridge. And I also had a walk to the mall planned for earlier in the day (which I did). Although I'm able to exert myself pretty far beyond "just walking" for a half hour or so, as I do in my workouts, it doesn't leave a ton of energy for other physical activity in the day. And extended periods of milder exercise (like the total of more than 5 km of walking that I did today) turns out to have the same effect -- only it hurts my back more than deadlifts.
Anyway, all that walking done, it turned out that the get-together at the ex-work had been postponed until tomorrow but the non-current employees hadn't been notified. After spending three hours on the process of getting there and back today, I think I will stick to the gym tomorrow.
On the bright side, I had more Christmas shopping success in two shops on Preston St. than I did during my entire four hours of trudgery in the Market yesterday.
Anyway, all that walking done, it turned out that the get-together at the ex-work had been postponed until tomorrow but the non-current employees hadn't been notified. After spending three hours on the process of getting there and back today, I think I will stick to the gym tomorrow.
On the bright side, I had more Christmas shopping success in two shops on Preston St. than I did during my entire four hours of trudgery in the Market yesterday.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Temporary relocation
I am writing from bed today. I have no good excuse; I'm just doing it because I can. (In the interest of not holding back at all, it was McPie's idea - he even brought me my laptop. After already bringing my coffee, and my book, all on separate trips.) Normally, I'm up, showered, dressed and breakfasted by nine o'clock, whether we have kids to get to school or not. Just because I don't have a job and don't go out much doesn't mean I needn't be civilized, right? But every so often, I've woken up feeling just plain wiped, and the only answer for it is to spend the morning in bed.
I blame being pregnant of course (Trixie, you were right, it's WAY easy to overdo it without knowing it and paying the price). At least, it give me an excuse that I didn't have before to take it easy. I know that in my working life I often woke up feeling like I needed to just stay in bed. But I couldn't, so I didn't, and I went through a day feeling like ass, being grumpy, and taking it out on others. Spending the morning in bed is an antidote to the tired, the ass, and the grump. So I consider this bed-therapy to be beneficial to all who cross my path in a day. It's entirely unselfish; practically my civic duty. And I have the afternoon earmarked for Christmas shopping, so I'll actually cross paths with more than zero people today. (One good thing about living on this side of the river -- I can still take the bus to the market.)
In reality, I probably won't spend the whole morning in bed. Probably not much longer than it takes to finish typing this. McPie has left for the day and he totally failed to bring me any sort of breakfast!
I blame being pregnant of course (Trixie, you were right, it's WAY easy to overdo it without knowing it and paying the price). At least, it give me an excuse that I didn't have before to take it easy. I know that in my working life I often woke up feeling like I needed to just stay in bed. But I couldn't, so I didn't, and I went through a day feeling like ass, being grumpy, and taking it out on others. Spending the morning in bed is an antidote to the tired, the ass, and the grump. So I consider this bed-therapy to be beneficial to all who cross my path in a day. It's entirely unselfish; practically my civic duty. And I have the afternoon earmarked for Christmas shopping, so I'll actually cross paths with more than zero people today. (One good thing about living on this side of the river -- I can still take the bus to the market.)
In reality, I probably won't spend the whole morning in bed. Probably not much longer than it takes to finish typing this. McPie has left for the day and he totally failed to bring me any sort of breakfast!
Monday, December 15, 2008
The lost meme
Way back in September, a fun meme went around, and I planned to participate. Upon request, Vicki assigned me the letter M. I actually did try to do it right away, but never finished... I found the rough notes today, and figured I might as well at least post what I had so far. I think there are supposed to be ten things, but whatever.
So, here are some of my favourite things, brought to you by the letter M.
Morning lattés. Ours are particularly special, and we pretty much can't live without them. Old school stovetop espresso maker, freshly ground fair trade beans (these days a half-and-half mix of regular and decaf), whole milk heated on the stove and frothed to a thick creamy foam using an old bodum coffeemaker. A spoonful of honey for sweetness, and a touch of whipping cream when we're feeling decadent (most days). It is a hallowed ritual; we can do nothing in a day before making the coffee, even if we are getting up for a morning run or heading out for a day of frisbee, our morning lattés come first. When we are out of town for a tournament, our morning coffee-making supplies come with us. Every single morning we sing the chorus in unison: "Ssssslurrrrrp... Aaaaahhhh."
Moms. Our "unconventional but not dysfunctional" family is blessed with so many of them! We have birth moms, stepmoms, mothers-in-law, and ex-mothers-in-law, grandmoms, and chances are we've all been in the same room together at some point! I've spent the past few years learning to be a mom, and am now facing the prospect of learning a new way of being one... And I have so many role models in my Circle of Moms to learn from.
McPie. My partner in crime, of course. The perfect partner in general, really (for me specifically, I but can only assume that everyone else in the world is jealous of my luck. ;-) Just this morning, Sweetie McPie recalled our first "date" (it was unofficially one at the time) and said that he knew right then that this "had to happen". He wondered what the reason was that it had to happen. I pointed out the obvious: "Ken, it happened because it was the one way we would get to be ridiculously happy for the rest of our lives. Duh." I didn't actually say duh, though. Because I really really like him a lot.
Munro, Alice. If I had to pick a favourite author, she'd be the one. Some think she's boring, but as a stylist, she's tops. Her writing takes me to a thoughtful, peaceful place; I never tire of reading her words, which I often find compelled to read aloud because they way she puts them together is often so simply striking (or, striking in their wonderful simplicity). I've casually started collecting first editions of her books - a little hobby my mom started for me.
Melted chocolate. When you make brownies the traditional way (i.e.: not from a mix), you have to melt a lot of pure chocolate in a pot, then mix in the eggs, sugar, flour, etc. I have a double boiler that I use for this, and there is a ridge on the inside of the pot that captures an inordinate amount of the melted chocolate that is meant for the brownies. The tip of my finger is the perfect tool for cleaning out the melted chocolate caught in this trap... Only after the brownies are in the oven!
Mowing the lawn. I'm not even kidding. Working part-time through this summer allowed me to be the official lawn-mower of the family, and I did it regularly all summer. (Last year, I think we managed to mow the lawn twice, and the retired neighbour pitched in once when the "Serenghetto" got so wild it became a neightbourhood embarrassement. Which is saying a lot, in our Hull hood.) I loved having an excuse to combine housework, getting out in the sun, and being active. It was so satisfying to make our yard look and feel tidy and inviting. Every time I got out to do it, I was strongly reminded at how lucky I was to have the time off to relax, help out, be outside instead in, and have the quiet (well, "quiet") time to myself.
Mackerel. Our family's fish of choice for the past while. (Other than homemade tuna burgers, it's the only fish we eat at home.) We've found fresh-frozen fillets from the Iles-de-la-Madeleine in our Loblaws, and they are delish. According to Bottomfeeder (which is where we got the idea to look for mackerel), it's an ethically sound fish to eat because it's plentiful, middle of the food chain (ie: not likely to be overfished or carry contaminants), rarely farmed, etc. Also, as a "fatty" fish, it's healthy as all heck, chock full of those omega-oils that make your brain grow and your hair shine. And the fillets take about 5 minutes to cook under the broiler, and melt in your mouth with some orange butter, or just a squeeze of lemon. (And of course, you can't beat pan-fried!)
Masonry. M is a hard letter, ok?! But seriously, old stone architecture and related accoutrements (see Old Quebec City, classic European cities, etc) are eye candy. I can sit in an Italian piazza, or walk the cobbled streets of an ancient city with stone walls rising on either side of me and feel embraced rather than overshadowed. Just putting my hands on the solid stone with some history in it make me imagine that I can absorb the stories the walls might tell.
Two of my favourite things:
(I actually have a picture of McPie on a our stone terrace in Italy cradling a morning latté -- a trifecta of faves -- but he was shirtless in the photo, and sexy as he is, he wouldn't have wanted it posted.)
So, here are some of my favourite things, brought to you by the letter M.
Morning lattés. Ours are particularly special, and we pretty much can't live without them. Old school stovetop espresso maker, freshly ground fair trade beans (these days a half-and-half mix of regular and decaf), whole milk heated on the stove and frothed to a thick creamy foam using an old bodum coffeemaker. A spoonful of honey for sweetness, and a touch of whipping cream when we're feeling decadent (most days). It is a hallowed ritual; we can do nothing in a day before making the coffee, even if we are getting up for a morning run or heading out for a day of frisbee, our morning lattés come first. When we are out of town for a tournament, our morning coffee-making supplies come with us. Every single morning we sing the chorus in unison: "Ssssslurrrrrp... Aaaaahhhh."
Moms. Our "unconventional but not dysfunctional" family is blessed with so many of them! We have birth moms, stepmoms, mothers-in-law, and ex-mothers-in-law, grandmoms, and chances are we've all been in the same room together at some point! I've spent the past few years learning to be a mom, and am now facing the prospect of learning a new way of being one... And I have so many role models in my Circle of Moms to learn from.
McPie. My partner in crime, of course. The perfect partner in general, really (for me specifically, I but can only assume that everyone else in the world is jealous of my luck. ;-) Just this morning, Sweetie McPie recalled our first "date" (it was unofficially one at the time) and said that he knew right then that this "had to happen". He wondered what the reason was that it had to happen. I pointed out the obvious: "Ken, it happened because it was the one way we would get to be ridiculously happy for the rest of our lives. Duh." I didn't actually say duh, though. Because I really really like him a lot.
Munro, Alice. If I had to pick a favourite author, she'd be the one. Some think she's boring, but as a stylist, she's tops. Her writing takes me to a thoughtful, peaceful place; I never tire of reading her words, which I often find compelled to read aloud because they way she puts them together is often so simply striking (or, striking in their wonderful simplicity). I've casually started collecting first editions of her books - a little hobby my mom started for me.
Melted chocolate. When you make brownies the traditional way (i.e.: not from a mix), you have to melt a lot of pure chocolate in a pot, then mix in the eggs, sugar, flour, etc. I have a double boiler that I use for this, and there is a ridge on the inside of the pot that captures an inordinate amount of the melted chocolate that is meant for the brownies. The tip of my finger is the perfect tool for cleaning out the melted chocolate caught in this trap... Only after the brownies are in the oven!
Mowing the lawn. I'm not even kidding. Working part-time through this summer allowed me to be the official lawn-mower of the family, and I did it regularly all summer. (Last year, I think we managed to mow the lawn twice, and the retired neighbour pitched in once when the "Serenghetto" got so wild it became a neightbourhood embarrassement. Which is saying a lot, in our Hull hood.) I loved having an excuse to combine housework, getting out in the sun, and being active. It was so satisfying to make our yard look and feel tidy and inviting. Every time I got out to do it, I was strongly reminded at how lucky I was to have the time off to relax, help out, be outside instead in, and have the quiet (well, "quiet") time to myself.
Mackerel. Our family's fish of choice for the past while. (Other than homemade tuna burgers, it's the only fish we eat at home.) We've found fresh-frozen fillets from the Iles-de-la-Madeleine in our Loblaws, and they are delish. According to Bottomfeeder (which is where we got the idea to look for mackerel), it's an ethically sound fish to eat because it's plentiful, middle of the food chain (ie: not likely to be overfished or carry contaminants), rarely farmed, etc. Also, as a "fatty" fish, it's healthy as all heck, chock full of those omega-oils that make your brain grow and your hair shine. And the fillets take about 5 minutes to cook under the broiler, and melt in your mouth with some orange butter, or just a squeeze of lemon. (And of course, you can't beat pan-fried!)
Masonry. M is a hard letter, ok?! But seriously, old stone architecture and related accoutrements (see Old Quebec City, classic European cities, etc) are eye candy. I can sit in an Italian piazza, or walk the cobbled streets of an ancient city with stone walls rising on either side of me and feel embraced rather than overshadowed. Just putting my hands on the solid stone with some history in it make me imagine that I can absorb the stories the walls might tell.
Two of my favourite things:
(I actually have a picture of McPie on a our stone terrace in Italy cradling a morning latté -- a trifecta of faves -- but he was shirtless in the photo, and sexy as he is, he wouldn't have wanted it posted.)
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
A Series of Unfortunate (Commuting) Events
First, I would like to note that I am enjoying the weather we are currently experiencing (aftermath of Big Snow Dump). I like shoveling. I'm not in a hurry to go anywhere. The gym, the grocery store, the mall and the school are all within easy walking distance. It's beautiful outside, and my house has lots of large windows so I can enjoy the scenery no matter where I turn.
It's easy for me though - I don't have to drive anywhere. I don't have to deal with the current Trifecta of Traffic Crap that's currently occuring in our city. The TTC comprises the following: the Chaudière Bridge between Hull and Ottawa is closed; 20 cm of snow fell within 24 hours; and OC Transpo is now on strike, resulting in an additional 20% of cars on the road.
It took McPie 2.5 hours to drive home on Friday night. (Thank goodness he left at 3:30, or he'd have missed the first flight of wine!) Since then, we've been working hard to develop a strategy for maintaining Commuter Zen, so he doesn't lose his mind (thereby leaving me as the last sane person in the house). His work has been accommodating so far, and he's working from home tomorrow.
Meanwhile, I enjoy some of the resulting entertaining blowing-of-steam:
[Cc'd on this email that he sent to coworkers via blackberry on the day that the Bridge closed last week without warning, trapping him on THIS side of the river]
"I will *likely* be late today. I am in some unholy traffic at the moment. What is going on? Is there a nuclear attack underway that I am not aware of? Is parliament under seige? Was Nico voted off So You Think You Can Dance Canada, because c'mon, dude is gonna win. Did a truck full of puppies crash on the queensway? (I am nowhere near the queensway at the moment but I would kick one of those puppies right now if I had the chance.) I have moved about 200 m while typing this. Now, I know you are thinking 'Ken its not safe to text and drive!' But therein lies my point: I am not driving. I am making sure no one steals my car while I idle it on the street. OH MY GOD I HAVE GROWN A BEARD! Ridiculous. Hope to see you guys again some day. Remember me..."
I'm sure many out there can relate. I'm thanking my lucky stars I don't have to.
It's easy for me though - I don't have to drive anywhere. I don't have to deal with the current Trifecta of Traffic Crap that's currently occuring in our city. The TTC comprises the following: the Chaudière Bridge between Hull and Ottawa is closed; 20 cm of snow fell within 24 hours; and OC Transpo is now on strike, resulting in an additional 20% of cars on the road.
It took McPie 2.5 hours to drive home on Friday night. (Thank goodness he left at 3:30, or he'd have missed the first flight of wine!) Since then, we've been working hard to develop a strategy for maintaining Commuter Zen, so he doesn't lose his mind (thereby leaving me as the last sane person in the house). His work has been accommodating so far, and he's working from home tomorrow.
Meanwhile, I enjoy some of the resulting entertaining blowing-of-steam:
[Cc'd on this email that he sent to coworkers via blackberry on the day that the Bridge closed last week without warning, trapping him on THIS side of the river]
"I will *likely* be late today. I am in some unholy traffic at the moment. What is going on? Is there a nuclear attack underway that I am not aware of? Is parliament under seige? Was Nico voted off So You Think You Can Dance Canada, because c'mon, dude is gonna win. Did a truck full of puppies crash on the queensway? (I am nowhere near the queensway at the moment but I would kick one of those puppies right now if I had the chance.) I have moved about 200 m while typing this. Now, I know you are thinking 'Ken its not safe to text and drive!' But therein lies my point: I am not driving. I am making sure no one steals my car while I idle it on the street. OH MY GOD I HAVE GROWN A BEARD! Ridiculous. Hope to see you guys again some day. Remember me..."
I'm sure many out there can relate. I'm thanking my lucky stars I don't have to.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Christmas crazies
I made crème brulée for the wine club on Friday, and had an enormous bowl of egg whites left over. Desperate to use them up before they expired, I whipped up some chocolate meringue cookies. I don't have any sort of cookie shaping device, so I just ploppped them down with a spoon. I remarked in the morning on their resemblance to, well...
Let me tell you, that got mileage. "When Grandmaman comes by, can we give her some Christmas Poos?" I was treated to the angelic strains of Petit Caca Noël drifting through the house for most of the morning...
Yesterday, Jean Charest was voted into a majority provincial government in Quebec, with no help from us. We forgot to vote yesterday. The kids were home from school because their school had been transformed into a (our) polling station. We were so distracted with the craziness of December Children that it was 8:36 pm before we realized it was voting day. Oops.
We actually had a nice day at home yesterday; everyone was into doing their own thing. I even went to the gym (and while I was gone Constance successfully wielded her Big Sister Responsibilities by convincing Ben that he wasn't allowed to use the stove -- to make chocolate truffles -- when their were no parents home.) We made Ben's truffles later in the afternoon. A pretty successful endeavour, it turned out. I was able to convince Ben that they didn't need to be cooked after all.
It was when Dad got home that the Christmas Crazies set in. (It didn't help that we had hot dogs for supper - a practically inconceivable treat. The 'dogs were inhaled before a bum even hit a seat at the dining room table.) The Christmas season has it's ups and downs. It's a lovely time of year, but children LOSE THEIR MINDS with excitement. Ben hasn't slept in about four days, he's so hyped up. McPie and I were up all night last night winding down from the evening onslaught, and around 4:00 AM we formulated a crackdown plan involving cleaning bedrooms, reduced computer time, independent dishwasher loading, and minimized sugar intake. For the kids of course! But participating in the plan will probably help us, too.
You see, they look all lovely and angelic:
And then the Crazies hit...
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Don't blink!
How is it that when I blink my eyes, another week has passed? I swear that my sense of time these days is set to "turbo". I don't feel busy or anything, and I was always given to understand that keeping busy makes the time pass quickly. My theory is that the dread factor slows time down. Moments of dread (such as the kind that sets in on Sunday afternoon when you realize the weekend is coming to an end and you have a whole week of work ahead of you and you probably should've done some over the weekend, but you probably won't get to it, making Monday morning all the more dreadful) seem to drag on and on... While moment of peace, happiness, or simple contentment pass in a blink.
Guess how I've been spending my time? Not in a state of dread, I'll tell you that much!
In fact, that's about all I can say about spending my time, because other than "not dreading anything" I can't seem to pin it down! I've been getting to the gym three or four times a week, which is good for a good hours of my day (between the packing before, walking there, stopping at the handily located grocery store, showering, and then the inevitable post-workout rest). I cook and bake (not elaborately, but enough to keep the troops happy). I've been reading a little -- mostly stuff about having a baby (I think it's just about time to move on to reading books on topics such as "what to do with the baby once it's here"), but also struggling away at some fiction that has no discernible plot. And no, I haven't finished Heart of Darkness. I'm about 10 pages from the end and can't close the deal. I hate it! So far nothing comprehensible has happened, and it doesn't look likely in the next few pages.
Hanging out with the kids has been pretty fun lately. Last week, we cuddled up to enjoy some So You Think You Can Dance. The kids are really into it. They were also relieved when Izaak was eliminated, even though Ben conceded that he had a few nice moves. (BTW, I'm very excited about tonight's episode! Fewer people = MORE DANCING! Yay!)
And McPie and I finished working our way through all the seasons of Buffy. I think McPie's a bigger fan now that I am. He didn't even want to watch the special features on the final DVD after we'd finished the last episode -- it was too depressing to realize it was over. At least now we can get back to lingering at the table over a homecooked meal and bottle of wine. (I'm gaining a true appreciation for the smell of wine. Hmph.)
We visited the midwife again today. The highlight was stopping in at the cheese shop on the way home, to stock up on treats for the wine club we're hosting this weekend. No, actually, the appointment went well, I got some questions answered, and everything is measuring up nicely. We booked our pre-natal courses for the new year. With all the reading and thinking and discussing and planning we've been doing lately, I have to say I'm getting really really really excited about the events to come. I'm even excited about the labour process. Kind of in the same way one would "look forward" to, say, one's first ironman triathlon. (When one has never swam, biked, or run competitively before.) You know, a challenge. It gives all the healthy things I do every day (work out, eat well, nap, avoid anxiety) new meaning. So, I guess I'm not at all regretting that this particular time is passing quickly, so I can get "there". I just have to make sure I stay efficient in my rose-smelling, so I don't miss a moment of this.
Guess how I've been spending my time? Not in a state of dread, I'll tell you that much!
In fact, that's about all I can say about spending my time, because other than "not dreading anything" I can't seem to pin it down! I've been getting to the gym three or four times a week, which is good for a good hours of my day (between the packing before, walking there, stopping at the handily located grocery store, showering, and then the inevitable post-workout rest). I cook and bake (not elaborately, but enough to keep the troops happy). I've been reading a little -- mostly stuff about having a baby (I think it's just about time to move on to reading books on topics such as "what to do with the baby once it's here"), but also struggling away at some fiction that has no discernible plot. And no, I haven't finished Heart of Darkness. I'm about 10 pages from the end and can't close the deal. I hate it! So far nothing comprehensible has happened, and it doesn't look likely in the next few pages.
Hanging out with the kids has been pretty fun lately. Last week, we cuddled up to enjoy some So You Think You Can Dance. The kids are really into it. They were also relieved when Izaak was eliminated, even though Ben conceded that he had a few nice moves. (BTW, I'm very excited about tonight's episode! Fewer people = MORE DANCING! Yay!)
And McPie and I finished working our way through all the seasons of Buffy. I think McPie's a bigger fan now that I am. He didn't even want to watch the special features on the final DVD after we'd finished the last episode -- it was too depressing to realize it was over. At least now we can get back to lingering at the table over a homecooked meal and bottle of wine. (I'm gaining a true appreciation for the smell of wine. Hmph.)
We visited the midwife again today. The highlight was stopping in at the cheese shop on the way home, to stock up on treats for the wine club we're hosting this weekend. No, actually, the appointment went well, I got some questions answered, and everything is measuring up nicely. We booked our pre-natal courses for the new year. With all the reading and thinking and discussing and planning we've been doing lately, I have to say I'm getting really really really excited about the events to come. I'm even excited about the labour process. Kind of in the same way one would "look forward" to, say, one's first ironman triathlon. (When one has never swam, biked, or run competitively before.) You know, a challenge. It gives all the healthy things I do every day (work out, eat well, nap, avoid anxiety) new meaning. So, I guess I'm not at all regretting that this particular time is passing quickly, so I can get "there". I just have to make sure I stay efficient in my rose-smelling, so I don't miss a moment of this.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Starting at home
I didn't sleep in this morning. (Much.) Instead, I started the day out right: coffee with my fella, and making a list for the day. I'm starting with option #1 - refocus on homemaking and "relaxing" before the storm.
List for today: laundry, rake leaves (just one last patch!), get groceries, laundry, make soup, continue reading the new book the Moms lent me. And possibly more laundry.
It doesn't leave much for tomorrow, though...
List for today: laundry, rake leaves (just one last patch!), get groceries, laundry, make soup, continue reading the new book the Moms lent me. And possibly more laundry.
It doesn't leave much for tomorrow, though...
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Head in the clouds, body in bed
I'm feeling a bit hazy these days, a little unfocused.
Last week felt like a bit of a frenzy. After not doing much, or at least, not having much that needed doing for quite awhile, I suddenly had several things on my plate -- the editing work, and my sister's visit. I had things to focus on, to work through and around. When I said good-bye to Julie on Monday morning, settled down to work, and then finally handed off the last chapter of the thesis on Monday night, I felt a strong sense of satisfaction and some relief. I felt like I'd accomplished something.
And now I'm resting on my laurels. Yesterday, I spent the entire morning reading in bed. I went to the gym in the afternoon, got some groceries, did the tiniest amount of tidying, spent the evening chilling with McPie, and that was pretty much it. Today, I also spent the morning reading (finishing Late Nights on Air, which I enjoyed, though I agree that the foreshadowing was heavy-handed). I'll go to the gym again this afternoon, prepare dinner (and watch SYTYCDC, of course!) I am on vacation now, having earned one by doing some "real work". But I need to decide when the vacation will end, and what to do next.
Last week while visiting with Julie, I kept getting these little pangs of anxiety. While we were out for lunch and shopping for a crib set, I noted a tingle of stress that seemed to be telling me I needed to be doing something right then. Of course, the message was that I should be at home editing, rather than out gallivanting with my sister. However, when making arrangements for the contract, I made it clear how many hours I could work each day, and this took into account prioritizing spending time with my guest. So I was doing exactly what I should be doing. But it fascinated me to not how strongly the obligation to "do work" and stick to a schedule came on, and pervaded the other parts of my life.
It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, especially because I a) wasn't dreading the work at all; in fact I looked forward to it, and b) I could fit it in when I needed to, around the other things that needed doing. And I felt productive -- like I was contributing to the family effort. It was just unexpected. And kind of inconvenient, because it occurred when I couldn't drop everything and answer to it.
The anxiety, I think came from the feeling that I had an actual, concrete obligation. The contract work, despite having a very flexible schedule, felt like more of an obligation that spending time with my guest, or cleaning the house, and this feelingis definitely directly related to the fact that my work was earning money not just appreciation. Even though, according to all our plans, I don't need to be earning dollars now -- it's just a bonus. But I have not been able, despite my best mental efforts and McPie's ongoing support and coaxing, to dissociate the concept of "contributing" from "earning money".
So, the end of my vacation could entail any of the following: resuming focus on home-making and relaxing before the storm, resurrecting my long-ago plans for self-development, or seeking out more paid work.
I haven't decided. It may be time to be proactive, rather than follow the path with my head in the clouds. I think a list is in the offing...
Last week felt like a bit of a frenzy. After not doing much, or at least, not having much that needed doing for quite awhile, I suddenly had several things on my plate -- the editing work, and my sister's visit. I had things to focus on, to work through and around. When I said good-bye to Julie on Monday morning, settled down to work, and then finally handed off the last chapter of the thesis on Monday night, I felt a strong sense of satisfaction and some relief. I felt like I'd accomplished something.
And now I'm resting on my laurels. Yesterday, I spent the entire morning reading in bed. I went to the gym in the afternoon, got some groceries, did the tiniest amount of tidying, spent the evening chilling with McPie, and that was pretty much it. Today, I also spent the morning reading (finishing Late Nights on Air, which I enjoyed, though I agree that the foreshadowing was heavy-handed). I'll go to the gym again this afternoon, prepare dinner (and watch SYTYCDC, of course!) I am on vacation now, having earned one by doing some "real work". But I need to decide when the vacation will end, and what to do next.
Last week while visiting with Julie, I kept getting these little pangs of anxiety. While we were out for lunch and shopping for a crib set, I noted a tingle of stress that seemed to be telling me I needed to be doing something right then. Of course, the message was that I should be at home editing, rather than out gallivanting with my sister. However, when making arrangements for the contract, I made it clear how many hours I could work each day, and this took into account prioritizing spending time with my guest. So I was doing exactly what I should be doing. But it fascinated me to not how strongly the obligation to "do work" and stick to a schedule came on, and pervaded the other parts of my life.
It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, especially because I a) wasn't dreading the work at all; in fact I looked forward to it, and b) I could fit it in when I needed to, around the other things that needed doing. And I felt productive -- like I was contributing to the family effort. It was just unexpected. And kind of inconvenient, because it occurred when I couldn't drop everything and answer to it.
The anxiety, I think came from the feeling that I had an actual, concrete obligation. The contract work, despite having a very flexible schedule, felt like more of an obligation that spending time with my guest, or cleaning the house, and this feelingis definitely directly related to the fact that my work was earning money not just appreciation. Even though, according to all our plans, I don't need to be earning dollars now -- it's just a bonus. But I have not been able, despite my best mental efforts and McPie's ongoing support and coaxing, to dissociate the concept of "contributing" from "earning money".
So, the end of my vacation could entail any of the following: resuming focus on home-making and relaxing before the storm, resurrecting my long-ago plans for self-development, or seeking out more paid work.
I haven't decided. It may be time to be proactive, rather than follow the path with my head in the clouds. I think a list is in the offing...
Friday, November 14, 2008
Things fall
Into my lap.
I chatted with my editing "client" today. She expressed satisfaction with my work (and her supervisor concurs). She expressed surprise that I was enjoying the work. She expressed enthusiasm when I confirmed that yes, I would definitely be interested in doing more of this work.
Turns out that she has a pile more reports and papers upcoming that she'd like me to edit. And she wants to pass on my references to others in her department. Seems like I might be able to save up a little for my "mat leave" after all. [Knock wood.]
As the kids say on the internet today: Woot!
I chatted with my editing "client" today. She expressed satisfaction with my work (and her supervisor concurs). She expressed surprise that I was enjoying the work. She expressed enthusiasm when I confirmed that yes, I would definitely be interested in doing more of this work.
Turns out that she has a pile more reports and papers upcoming that she'd like me to edit. And she wants to pass on my references to others in her department. Seems like I might be able to save up a little for my "mat leave" after all. [Knock wood.]
As the kids say on the internet today: Woot!
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Highlights and lowlights of my mini job
I have a real job this week, editing a PhD thesis. The job is really getting in the way of getting things done! My sister is arriving this evening for a visit and the house is a mess, and I have no groceries. Sigh. But I've been getting the kids to do more and more housework -- they are cooperative.
Another silver lining: I'm loving the editing! I can hardly tear myself away. Seriously, I keep trying to squeeze in a half hour here and there, and find myself saying "just one more page before I start supper...." I love digging through the APA Publication Manual, I love tracking back through to make sure I've been consistent, I love debating the choice between Cdn and American spelling, I love choosing a much better word, I love staring a sentences trying to figure out exactly what is wrong with that? I love the fiddly details.
I have no idea why this is so much better than writing. I guess I'm just not an ideas person. But if someone's willing to pay me to simply fix up their ideas, I'm okay with that.
Another silver lining: I'm loving the editing! I can hardly tear myself away. Seriously, I keep trying to squeeze in a half hour here and there, and find myself saying "just one more page before I start supper...." I love digging through the APA Publication Manual, I love tracking back through to make sure I've been consistent, I love debating the choice between Cdn and American spelling, I love choosing a much better word, I love staring a sentences trying to figure out exactly what is wrong with that? I love the fiddly details.
I have no idea why this is so much better than writing. I guess I'm just not an ideas person. But if someone's willing to pay me to simply fix up their ideas, I'm okay with that.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Seeing is believing, sort of
We love Lisa and Vincent. Seriously. McPie is thinking of taking dancing lessons.
So, the ultrasound. Wow, what a cool experience. Until then, I was feeling a little doubtful that there was actually something in there. The ultrasound made it very clear that there was not only something in there, but someone. I'm still trying to get my head around it.
We took the kids, so they could get a sneak preview of their soon-to-be sibling. It was fun, the three of them lined up on chair beside me, the four of us watching the big screen.
The first thing the technician asked, of course, was whether or not we wanted to know the sex. Yes, we did. It was a lucky answer, because the moment the wand hit my belly, the kid mooned us. And it was very obvious that some of us were getting a brother, and the rest of us were getting a son. Ben might've done in a little fist pump: Yes!
The rest of the scan was completely fascinating. We saw the four beating chambers of the heart (134 bpm, which is low-in-a-good-way in the normal 120-180 range -- an athlete!); the stomach, kidneys and bladder (all functioning, he even peed for us); we counted the bones in the legs, and arms, and saw all the fingers and toes. He was hiding his head down in my hipbone, so we had to poke and prod a bit to get him to show his face. Which was very... skull-like. But very cool. In general, everything looked good and healthy. The measurements showed that my dates are on target.
The most remarkable thing that we saw was how much the baby moves. He was kicking his legs, and waving his hands like crazy. And I could barely feel a thing. But it made clear that the tiny little flutters and twinges I'd been feeling the past few days were in fact baby-related, and not gas cramps, as I was tempted to suspect.
We were able to take home a DVD of the complete scan, which the Moms were eager to see. I was surprised -- I didn't think we'd ever actually look at the thing again. They watched it as intently as if it was an action flick. I guess midwives have a particular interest in that sort of thing.
Since then, I've been feeling -- or imagine I've been feeling -- more movement; the other night there was even a poke-poke-poking that McPie was able to feel. (He assures me it won't be long before we see and feel knees and elbows.)
However, the connection between pregnancy and parenthood still seems very abstract to me. Like I am enduring a particular state of health for the time being, and at the end of March we will be parents to an infant, but the two things are sort of still unrelated.
Anyway, I'm left with the question: why are boys names so much harder to think of than girls names?! Anybody got any suggestions? 'Cause we are open to anything at this point...
So, the ultrasound. Wow, what a cool experience. Until then, I was feeling a little doubtful that there was actually something in there. The ultrasound made it very clear that there was not only something in there, but someone. I'm still trying to get my head around it.
We took the kids, so they could get a sneak preview of their soon-to-be sibling. It was fun, the three of them lined up on chair beside me, the four of us watching the big screen.
The first thing the technician asked, of course, was whether or not we wanted to know the sex. Yes, we did. It was a lucky answer, because the moment the wand hit my belly, the kid mooned us. And it was very obvious that some of us were getting a brother, and the rest of us were getting a son. Ben might've done in a little fist pump: Yes!
The rest of the scan was completely fascinating. We saw the four beating chambers of the heart (134 bpm, which is low-in-a-good-way in the normal 120-180 range -- an athlete!); the stomach, kidneys and bladder (all functioning, he even peed for us); we counted the bones in the legs, and arms, and saw all the fingers and toes. He was hiding his head down in my hipbone, so we had to poke and prod a bit to get him to show his face. Which was very... skull-like. But very cool. In general, everything looked good and healthy. The measurements showed that my dates are on target.
The most remarkable thing that we saw was how much the baby moves. He was kicking his legs, and waving his hands like crazy. And I could barely feel a thing. But it made clear that the tiny little flutters and twinges I'd been feeling the past few days were in fact baby-related, and not gas cramps, as I was tempted to suspect.
We were able to take home a DVD of the complete scan, which the Moms were eager to see. I was surprised -- I didn't think we'd ever actually look at the thing again. They watched it as intently as if it was an action flick. I guess midwives have a particular interest in that sort of thing.
Since then, I've been feeling -- or imagine I've been feeling -- more movement; the other night there was even a poke-poke-poking that McPie was able to feel. (He assures me it won't be long before we see and feel knees and elbows.)
However, the connection between pregnancy and parenthood still seems very abstract to me. Like I am enduring a particular state of health for the time being, and at the end of March we will be parents to an infant, but the two things are sort of still unrelated.
Anyway, I'm left with the question: why are boys names so much harder to think of than girls names?! Anybody got any suggestions? 'Cause we are open to anything at this point...
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Hidden help, and other updates
I've been procrastinating posting today because so much has been going on lately I didn't know where to start. Then something happened late in the afternoon that must be captured in writing.
Constance was home from school (she doesn't go to daycare any more; instead, she walks home by herself everyday at the typical 3:30.) She was emailing on the computer at the dining room table. I got off the phone and announced "Well, I guess it's time to clean the bathroom", and headed in the direction thereof.
Constance's head popped up from behind the laptop. "Really? Can I do it? I love cleaning the bathroom!" She ran over, beat me to the bathroom, and immediately began questioning me about which products I use for which fixtures.
I am totally not kidding. Nor am I dreaming (though I thought I must be for a bit); the bathroom is totally clean (even the mirror and the chrome on the tub faucet), and I had no part in it whatsoever. She even told me that whenever the bathroom needed cleaning, I should ask her to do it. Because she likes it better than all the other chores. I was quick to agree to that deal.
She also spilled the beans that Ben is very good at doing dishes. Apparently (and this is her word only, because the most we ask them to do is get their dishes from the table to the dishwasher, and even that is touch 'n' go most times), he doesn't always like to do the dishes, but once he gets going on the task, he goes all out, even doing some little extras.
I have so much to learn about this parenting business! Of course it regularly occurs to me that I should get the kids to participate in chores more, but I'm a bit of a control freak when it comes to domestic duties, and the thought of having to supervise them (and nag them) through things seems like more work that it's worth, so I usually just do things myself. But clearly they are being trained off-site (handy!), and with this new revelation, I think I may be ready to let go of my whole "this needs to be done just-so" attitude, and let them have at 'er.
And best to get these habits established before I actually start needing real help from them in a few months. I can't wait until McPie comes home to tell him this news -- our kids can clean!
(Of course, he's been struggling with the feeling that he's losing his ability to contribute around the house, since I now have time to do so much more. That's how amazing my husband is -- he's upset that he doesn't get to do chores much any more! I've started "saving" things for him to do -- sometimes dishes, sometimes taking out the recycling -- poor thing.)
In other news, we just returned home from a mini-vacation to Florida. McPie's frisbee team was playing at the UPA National Championships in Sarasota. I went along because of November's cold, lack of sun-ness. In Sarasota, there is no cold, and there is plenty of sun. There are also beautiful beaches and plenty of seafood. It was wonderful. I even managed to get out for a run while I was there.
We arrived home Sunday night, in time for the next tempest of activity. Monday (yesterday) was Constance's 11th birthday (coincidentally, also Baba's birthday), and it was also the day scheduled for our first ultrasound. We picked the kids up early from school, attended the ultrasound appointment all together, and then headed to the Moms' place for a family birthday dinner of delicious fajitas and homemade checkered (white and choco) cake. (Maman is a fabulous baker.) How great a homecoming is that?
I'm still digesting the whole experience that was brought to us by the wonder of medical technology. I'll save it for tomorrow -- I can't wait to tell about it!
Constance was home from school (she doesn't go to daycare any more; instead, she walks home by herself everyday at the typical 3:30.) She was emailing on the computer at the dining room table. I got off the phone and announced "Well, I guess it's time to clean the bathroom", and headed in the direction thereof.
Constance's head popped up from behind the laptop. "Really? Can I do it? I love cleaning the bathroom!" She ran over, beat me to the bathroom, and immediately began questioning me about which products I use for which fixtures.
I am totally not kidding. Nor am I dreaming (though I thought I must be for a bit); the bathroom is totally clean (even the mirror and the chrome on the tub faucet), and I had no part in it whatsoever. She even told me that whenever the bathroom needed cleaning, I should ask her to do it. Because she likes it better than all the other chores. I was quick to agree to that deal.
She also spilled the beans that Ben is very good at doing dishes. Apparently (and this is her word only, because the most we ask them to do is get their dishes from the table to the dishwasher, and even that is touch 'n' go most times), he doesn't always like to do the dishes, but once he gets going on the task, he goes all out, even doing some little extras.
I have so much to learn about this parenting business! Of course it regularly occurs to me that I should get the kids to participate in chores more, but I'm a bit of a control freak when it comes to domestic duties, and the thought of having to supervise them (and nag them) through things seems like more work that it's worth, so I usually just do things myself. But clearly they are being trained off-site (handy!), and with this new revelation, I think I may be ready to let go of my whole "this needs to be done just-so" attitude, and let them have at 'er.
And best to get these habits established before I actually start needing real help from them in a few months. I can't wait until McPie comes home to tell him this news -- our kids can clean!
(Of course, he's been struggling with the feeling that he's losing his ability to contribute around the house, since I now have time to do so much more. That's how amazing my husband is -- he's upset that he doesn't get to do chores much any more! I've started "saving" things for him to do -- sometimes dishes, sometimes taking out the recycling -- poor thing.)
In other news, we just returned home from a mini-vacation to Florida. McPie's frisbee team was playing at the UPA National Championships in Sarasota. I went along because of November's cold, lack of sun-ness. In Sarasota, there is no cold, and there is plenty of sun. There are also beautiful beaches and plenty of seafood. It was wonderful. I even managed to get out for a run while I was there.
We arrived home Sunday night, in time for the next tempest of activity. Monday (yesterday) was Constance's 11th birthday (coincidentally, also Baba's birthday), and it was also the day scheduled for our first ultrasound. We picked the kids up early from school, attended the ultrasound appointment all together, and then headed to the Moms' place for a family birthday dinner of delicious fajitas and homemade checkered (white and choco) cake. (Maman is a fabulous baker.) How great a homecoming is that?
I'm still digesting the whole experience that was brought to us by the wonder of medical technology. I'll save it for tomorrow -- I can't wait to tell about it!
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
The comfort factor
I made a wonderful discovery while visiting Nova Scotia:
Maternity jeans.
These magical pants, they look like regular jeans (er, as long as you don't tuck your shirt in), but they feel like yoga pants. Miraculous! I'm still able to fit into some of my jeans -- thanks to the super-low waisted styles of recent years -- but I didn't realize that they weren't that comfortable until I found the maternity jean.
I may never go back. I'm hardly even kidding. Julie (who also got a pair -- different brand and style, but similar comfort wow-factor) and I are trying to convince our fellas that they, too, should consider the maternity jean for themselves. No takers yet.
It was a great trip - I ate too many cookies, managed to fit in a run on the country roads, beat my mom in scrabble (just barely), slept in every day, and procured a fabulous recipe for baked oatmeal. As usual, we wished we could stay another week.
Today, our first day back, we had our first appointment with the midwife. I was very very very looking forward to this appointment, during which we would meet the midwife for the first time, and get on this whole "prenatal care" bandwagon.
The appointment was... not what I expected. I've spent the better part of the day trying to figure it out. I think I've got it now: my expectations were ridiculous.
In a weird twist of fate, I am "related" to or pretty good friends with no less than five midwives. All of them are fantastic women who I adore and respect. They comprise an obstetric dream team. When I imagine my pre-natal care, I imagine a clinical relationship just like the relationships I have with these women. How unrealistic is that? Pretty much anything after that figment is going to be disappointing.
So, in an attempt to not be disappointed, I've been trying to put it in perspective. I did not get a negative impression from my midwife. She was very friendly. She was nice. She was not really a person I'm likely to be pals with, but a) how could I tell on first impression, and b) why, really, should I expect -- or even want -- that from a clinician? She didn't ask me many questions, didn't really seem to make an effort to get a feel for my situation, but then, I have the most incredibly boring medical history on the face of the earth ("no" to everything that could possibly complicate anything including allergies - same for family members), AND I don't even have any weird pregnancy things going on. And I was totally relaxed. And I kinda mentioned that I was reading the midwifery textbook instead of "What to Expect When Expecting" - which may have told her all she needed to know. ;-)
Céline dropped by to pick up Constance (who comes home after school now, rather than going to daycare), and asked how it when. When I told her that I was verging on disappointed, she pointed out to me that given the health care sitch in the Ottawa-Outaouais region (ie: hard to get a doc, even harder to get a midwife), I might not be able to get the very specific care I dream of, and should feel lucky to have what I have. (She said this very gently and diplomatically, of course.)
Very, very good point. Long story short, (or to cut short a long story), pondering this idea it took me back to feeling happy and excited about how this is all working out. And if I'm ever in doubt, there's always The Bookclub (ie: aforementioned obstetric dream team).
Maternity jeans.
These magical pants, they look like regular jeans (er, as long as you don't tuck your shirt in), but they feel like yoga pants. Miraculous! I'm still able to fit into some of my jeans -- thanks to the super-low waisted styles of recent years -- but I didn't realize that they weren't that comfortable until I found the maternity jean.
I may never go back. I'm hardly even kidding. Julie (who also got a pair -- different brand and style, but similar comfort wow-factor) and I are trying to convince our fellas that they, too, should consider the maternity jean for themselves. No takers yet.
It was a great trip - I ate too many cookies, managed to fit in a run on the country roads, beat my mom in scrabble (just barely), slept in every day, and procured a fabulous recipe for baked oatmeal. As usual, we wished we could stay another week.
Today, our first day back, we had our first appointment with the midwife. I was very very very looking forward to this appointment, during which we would meet the midwife for the first time, and get on this whole "prenatal care" bandwagon.
The appointment was... not what I expected. I've spent the better part of the day trying to figure it out. I think I've got it now: my expectations were ridiculous.
In a weird twist of fate, I am "related" to or pretty good friends with no less than five midwives. All of them are fantastic women who I adore and respect. They comprise an obstetric dream team. When I imagine my pre-natal care, I imagine a clinical relationship just like the relationships I have with these women. How unrealistic is that? Pretty much anything after that figment is going to be disappointing.
So, in an attempt to not be disappointed, I've been trying to put it in perspective. I did not get a negative impression from my midwife. She was very friendly. She was nice. She was not really a person I'm likely to be pals with, but a) how could I tell on first impression, and b) why, really, should I expect -- or even want -- that from a clinician? She didn't ask me many questions, didn't really seem to make an effort to get a feel for my situation, but then, I have the most incredibly boring medical history on the face of the earth ("no" to everything that could possibly complicate anything including allergies - same for family members), AND I don't even have any weird pregnancy things going on. And I was totally relaxed. And I kinda mentioned that I was reading the midwifery textbook instead of "What to Expect When Expecting" - which may have told her all she needed to know. ;-)
Céline dropped by to pick up Constance (who comes home after school now, rather than going to daycare), and asked how it when. When I told her that I was verging on disappointed, she pointed out to me that given the health care sitch in the Ottawa-Outaouais region (ie: hard to get a doc, even harder to get a midwife), I might not be able to get the very specific care I dream of, and should feel lucky to have what I have. (She said this very gently and diplomatically, of course.)
Very, very good point. Long story short, (or to cut short a long story), pondering this idea it took me back to feeling happy and excited about how this is all working out. And if I'm ever in doubt, there's always The Bookclub (ie: aforementioned obstetric dream team).
Thursday, October 16, 2008
All in the family
My mom, sister and I were watching Oprah this afternoon. It was this big feminism episode, with Gloria Steinem, Billie Jean King, Maria Schriver... There was a clip of Maria at the Democratic convention watching her uncle, Ted Kennedy, giving a speech. Oprah and Maria discussed how moving the moment was, and they cut to a clip showing Maria crying as she listened to the speech.
Julie, Mom and I immediately also teared up. WTF? We all looked at each other, wiping tears, and giggled.
Did I mention that my sister is also pregnant? She's due two weeks after me.
Two pregnant sisters + one soon-to-be grandma = surprise emotional outbursts at unexpected moments. Occasionally synchronized.
Good times.
Julie, Mom and I immediately also teared up. WTF? We all looked at each other, wiping tears, and giggled.
Did I mention that my sister is also pregnant? She's due two weeks after me.
Two pregnant sisters + one soon-to-be grandma = surprise emotional outbursts at unexpected moments. Occasionally synchronized.
Good times.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Family vote
When I came down to make coffee this morning, Ben called out from his still-dark room, "So, who won?"
He was referring, of course, to the election. I let him know that "our guy" (the Green candidate) didn't win. Maybe next time. (In Hull? Unlikely, but I was being kind for the sake of the child.)
We took Ben and Constance with us last night when we went to vote. What an experience! First, we walked the kilometre or so to the church, and enjoyed the beautiful fall evening and the kids' enthusiastic chatter the whole way. We of course explained what we were doing and why, and prepped them on what to expect when we got there.
Constance helped me vote. I seriously had not decided when I picked up the little pencil. We went over the ballot, looked at the different parties and people listed, and finally we decided together. (Luckily there was no line-up, because this took a few minutes.) Ben went through the same process with McPie.
McPie had to register because he was not on the electors list. The fellow signing him up was chit-chatting with him and Ben when Constance walked up. The fellow asked Ben if this was his sister. Did he have any other brothers or sisters? Ben shook his head no, paused, then said: "But my mom is having a baby. [He points over at me, standing a few steps away.] A fin du mars."
Fellow waves and grins. I blush madly.
On the way home, Constance walked with me, and I explained how the House of Commons works: how the country was divided into sections, and each section picked one person (like we had just done), and one person from each section gets to go to the Parliament (which the kids just visited with the school last week), and the Party with the most folks in the Parliament gets to run the government. She was pretty intrigued. And then she decided that we had the best family in the world because we were all so very happy. I'm not sure of the connection to the election, but I'm guessing it had something to do with the night air, and anyway I'm the last one to argue with that conclusion!
At home, Ben was disappointed that the election show wasn't on TV yet. McPie had promised that he could watch a little of the results. Instead, he settled for a homemade pumpkin square, and some quiet reading in bed.
Speaking of which - glory of glories - our 7-year-old has discovered the joy of solitary reading! He found a series of books (graphic chapter books, actually, featuring this cartoon creature names Ariol) that he just loves, and he reads by himself: at the dining table, the kitchen table, in bed, alone, or with people around. Almost silently; we can occasionally hear him murmur under his breath as he figures out words he doesn't know. He exclaims randomly to no one in particular "oh, this story is so good". It was barely a year ago that he was reading his first words! And high-energy extrovert that he is, I'm frankly quite amazed that he's so into this activity. But I guess I shouldn't be... The kids surprise and amaze us pretty regularly. (Constance's dinnertime, pre-voting rant about how we should implement communism à la Thomas More's Utopia is yet another example from last night. Of course, she didn't use the words "communism" or "utopia" - we taught her those in the course of the conversation - but in trying to describe how there should be no money, and how everyone should work and share things freely, she pretty much nailed the main tenets.)
Well, that was last night's excitement. Now, I'm in the airport, waiting to board my flight to Nova Scotia. I'll post more from there!
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Feeling great and giving thanks
I've been a little bit MIA from the potluck - you may have noticed? I've an assortment of excuses up my sleeve: busy doing things, busy doing nothing, indulging my latent introvert. (Er, more like my blatant introvert.)
I have been doing a little writing: I wanted to keep a journal of my physical progress through pregnancy, mostly in how it relates to working out (because that is one of my main hobbies - I was pretty sure that being knocked up wasn't going to impact my ability to read or cook...). Not wanting to hijack this life-blog or the Glee Club in the name of prenatal musings, I started a new, temporary online journal. So, not entirely idle over here.
Also, I've been knitting: I'm partway through a scarf for Constance and baby blanket for myself. Well, not me per se...
And reading: I've finished DeNiro's Game by Rawi Hage (very dark, stark narrative style, story comes together after a chaotic start), Gods Behaving Badly by Marie Phillips (light and fun, makes me want to know more about Greek myth), and Dune by Frank Herbert (clumsily written in my opinion, but gripping plot - I blasted through it!). I've moved onto Madame Bovary -- at bookclub we thought it was time to get into something a little meatier... I'm enjoying it so far.
Also on the "currently reading" list is Myles Textbook for Midwives, borrowed from Celine. Typical "what to expect" books have nothing on a midwifery textbook - I'm getting the REAL details (about the actually physiology of things, mostly), and it's exactly the info I was looking for. (Don't worry, I'm skipping the scary bits; I do realize that there are things that would be better to remain a mystery to me.) It's also reassuring to discover how much midwives really know. Trust me, it's A LOT.
I've been working a bit on the house/kitchen: We finished the cork floor, and because the dining room walls were then pretty much the same colour of the floor, I repainted it a lovely deep blue. I've also stained the baseboards that McPie sized and cut; they just need to be tacked on. We just love the new floor so far - besides just looking nicer, it feels wonderful under the feet. A little slippery, a little soft, a little warm.
And I've been giving thanks: Thanks for friends (I've been back in touch with several in the past few weeks, including actual face time with Lauren and Angela); thanks for my health (I'm still feeling wonderful, strong, energetic - mostly - and am pretty confident that I'll be able to get my head around all the recent and imminent body changes); and thanks for my family (which I could go on and on about).
I'm SO LUCKY to have the opportunity to be home and not working right now. My good fortune does not escape me at all. Because my time is my own, I am able to concentrate my energy things that are important to me. I'm grateful to the have the time to focus on getting/keeping myself healthy by exercising and the subsequent requisite napping. I'm grateful to have the time and energy to spend so much extra time with the kids. It's bringing us a lot closer together as a family. We're tight, and I feel like this is part of the foundation of affection and trust that will be necessary in a few months when the dynamics of the family change dramatically.
Not surprisingly, I've much more to say about all of this (and I haven't even gotten to Thanksgiving dinner itself, the whole election thing, or my upcoming trips to Nova Scotia and Florida), but the afternoon is flying, and I still have laundry, baking and dishes to do before picking up the kids...
I have been doing a little writing: I wanted to keep a journal of my physical progress through pregnancy, mostly in how it relates to working out (because that is one of my main hobbies - I was pretty sure that being knocked up wasn't going to impact my ability to read or cook...). Not wanting to hijack this life-blog or the Glee Club in the name of prenatal musings, I started a new, temporary online journal. So, not entirely idle over here.
Also, I've been knitting: I'm partway through a scarf for Constance and baby blanket for myself. Well, not me per se...
And reading: I've finished DeNiro's Game by Rawi Hage (very dark, stark narrative style, story comes together after a chaotic start), Gods Behaving Badly by Marie Phillips (light and fun, makes me want to know more about Greek myth), and Dune by Frank Herbert (clumsily written in my opinion, but gripping plot - I blasted through it!). I've moved onto Madame Bovary -- at bookclub we thought it was time to get into something a little meatier... I'm enjoying it so far.
Also on the "currently reading" list is Myles Textbook for Midwives, borrowed from Celine. Typical "what to expect" books have nothing on a midwifery textbook - I'm getting the REAL details (about the actually physiology of things, mostly), and it's exactly the info I was looking for. (Don't worry, I'm skipping the scary bits; I do realize that there are things that would be better to remain a mystery to me.) It's also reassuring to discover how much midwives really know. Trust me, it's A LOT.
I've been working a bit on the house/kitchen: We finished the cork floor, and because the dining room walls were then pretty much the same colour of the floor, I repainted it a lovely deep blue. I've also stained the baseboards that McPie sized and cut; they just need to be tacked on. We just love the new floor so far - besides just looking nicer, it feels wonderful under the feet. A little slippery, a little soft, a little warm.
And I've been giving thanks: Thanks for friends (I've been back in touch with several in the past few weeks, including actual face time with Lauren and Angela); thanks for my health (I'm still feeling wonderful, strong, energetic - mostly - and am pretty confident that I'll be able to get my head around all the recent and imminent body changes); and thanks for my family (which I could go on and on about).
I'm SO LUCKY to have the opportunity to be home and not working right now. My good fortune does not escape me at all. Because my time is my own, I am able to concentrate my energy things that are important to me. I'm grateful to the have the time to focus on getting/keeping myself healthy by exercising and the subsequent requisite napping. I'm grateful to have the time and energy to spend so much extra time with the kids. It's bringing us a lot closer together as a family. We're tight, and I feel like this is part of the foundation of affection and trust that will be necessary in a few months when the dynamics of the family change dramatically.
Not surprisingly, I've much more to say about all of this (and I haven't even gotten to Thanksgiving dinner itself, the whole election thing, or my upcoming trips to Nova Scotia and Florida), but the afternoon is flying, and I still have laundry, baking and dishes to do before picking up the kids...
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Making use of my time
I'm a little behind schedule on installing the new floor, but making progress.
You remember this, right? The ugliness of the turquoise? Our walls clash with the colour because we painted them with the optimistic belief that we would soon change the floor. That was two years ago.
While "click-lock" is a bit of a euphemism -- it's a bit trickier than than -- it's not too hard to put altogether. I've only smashed my finger, scraped my knuckle, and stubbed my toe once (each). More challenging is fitting it against our incredibly non-straight walls. Once again, I get to do the easy-going broad space of the dining room, but am saving the tricky, need-a-table-saw-for-tweaking edges and kitchen for my handy and more-patient-than-I hubby.
The before picture... Saturday, as we begin to dismantle the dining room:
You remember this, right? The ugliness of the turquoise? Our walls clash with the colour because we painted them with the optimistic belief that we would soon change the floor. That was two years ago.
Monday:
Tearing up the old floor(s) -- the turquoise was glued to some lovely beige vinyl glued to the subfloor -- was knee-bruising, back-breaking, finger-wrenching work. While I did the majority of the square-footage during the day, McPie swooped in and saved the day on the really nasty stuck-on stuff in the kitchen.
Today:
While "click-lock" is a bit of a euphemism -- it's a bit trickier than than -- it's not too hard to put altogether. I've only smashed my finger, scraped my knuckle, and stubbed my toe once (each). More challenging is fitting it against our incredibly non-straight walls. Once again, I get to do the easy-going broad space of the dining room, but am saving the tricky, need-a-table-saw-for-tweaking edges and kitchen for my handy and more-patient-than-I hubby.
It's looking not bad so far, and it's oh-so-smooth and soft underfoot.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Breaking news
I just got a call from the Maison de Naissance ("birth house", ie: midwifery clinic), and I have a midwife!!
After being told just a few days ago in a tone of certainty that this was truly a longshot, probably not going to happen, and after worrying my little heart over it in the meantime (because I have, perhaps irresponsibly, been unable to imagine undergoing OB "care" unless absolutely necessary and then suddenly staring that possibility in the face), I have only one thing to say:
PHEWF.
After being told just a few days ago in a tone of certainty that this was truly a longshot, probably not going to happen, and after worrying my little heart over it in the meantime (because I have, perhaps irresponsibly, been unable to imagine undergoing OB "care" unless absolutely necessary and then suddenly staring that possibility in the face), I have only one thing to say:
PHEWF.
Something I've been meaning to tell you
At the risk of being crass, I'll say it in pictures:
In case that's not clear, or you're not entirely convinced, here's the "definitely without a doubt" version:
Is that weird? taking pictures of pregnancy tests? I couldn't help it - it seemed so monumental at the time. And look, I've found a use for them!
So, yep, that's me! Should I say us? In a romantic twist of fate, I took those pictures on mine and McPie's wedding anniversary, July 27. Which makes me just about three months pregnant. If all goes well, we'll have a new mini-kidlet around March 30.
Yay!
I feel like it would be irresponsible to drop the bomb and then run away, so here are a few random details and thoughts on the whole thing:
In case that's not clear, or you're not entirely convinced, here's the "definitely without a doubt" version:
Is that weird? taking pictures of pregnancy tests? I couldn't help it - it seemed so monumental at the time. And look, I've found a use for them!
So, yep, that's me! Should I say us? In a romantic twist of fate, I took those pictures on mine and McPie's wedding anniversary, July 27. Which makes me just about three months pregnant. If all goes well, we'll have a new mini-kidlet around March 30.
Yay!
I feel like it would be irresponsible to drop the bomb and then run away, so here are a few random details and thoughts on the whole thing:
- I haven't suffered any sickness/nausea. A little indigestion (which is actually hunger half the time), but that's about it, and even that is passing.
- I was pretty tired, but not exactly "hit by a 2x4" tired, and that seems to be passing. Afternoon napping has helped, but I think my naps now are a result of simply having the time to do so (ie: would happen whether I was pregnant or not!)
- I am showing already. If you didn't know me, you wouldn't guess, but those who do can definitely notice. (Thank goodness for the low-cut waist styles of recent years; my pants may fit for a while yet!)
- Because of my late-in-the-month due date, getting a midwife through the usual routes will be touch-and-go. Luckily, we're quite immersed in the local midwifery community, and we are (trying to be) positive that I will be able to have midwife care through some avenue or other.
- Wine club is going to be... not quite the same, but happily, it's become almost as much about the food so I'll be able to indulge on the munchies if not the vintages.
- The kidlets are excited and happy. Constance especially so (yah babysitter!). Ben is more of a muller-overer, but I like to think that the increased closeness in our relationship of late has to do with his realization (on some level) that I really am a permanent part of the family, and about to be related to him (my son will be be his brother. Not that I know I'm having a boy, but in Ben's mind, it's the only option.) Of course, it could just be that I am spending more time with him in a non-anxious state, due to my new, improved employment sitch.
- Les mamans are pillars of support and knowledge (both being midwives), and have promised to field 2 AM freak-out phones calls without question.
- I think it's possible that not slowing down physically helped me to feel (relatively) great through the first trimester. I played a frisbee tournament at 6 weeks, and Nationals at 7 weeks, am still playing twice a week, and haven't reduced my workout schedule (though I have adjusted the content of workouts slightly. I expect both the consistency of schedule and adjustment of workloads to continue!)
The nesting instinct has begun in the form of knitting urges. However, I haven't exactly acted on them, because my inspiration wheels are rusty, and I just don't know where to start. I did find a baby blanket recipe and have purchased the yarn to go with it... But I'm missing the exact needles I need! (Otherwise, I'd be knitting right now...) Any other suggestions for knitting projects welcome (non-baby stuff too!)
Monday, September 15, 2008
Failed attempt at a brief summary
Blessings in disguise
We had planned to play in a one-day frisbee tournament on Saturday of this past weekend. During the week, a cousin of McPie's passed away (of cancer; we knew it was coming), and after some deliberation and reworking of plans, we packed up with kidlets and headed to Montreal on Saturday morning to attend the funeral.
We had been torn about whether to go or not -- McPie didn't really know his cousin, or her children and grandchildren, and we didn't want to leave our frisbee team shorthanded. But we liked the idea of only having to drive 2 hours instead of 5 to spend time with the rest of the family. McPie's mom, sisters and nephew were also attending, and we'd get to visit Aunt Olive (who's daughter was the one who had passed away).
It turned out to be a rather grand time. We booked into the same hotel as McPie's family, and had a delicious dinner all together at a cozy Italian place. The kids got to hang out with their cousin Andrew, who they adore. I cannot overstate how much the kids LOVE staying in hotels. And this one - though a relatively airport standard - was brand new and spacious. We entered the room expectantly and when Ben marched in he exclaimed "Would you look at this! It's an ORMous*!" And! there was a pool! Post-funeral, the kids spent hours of the afternoon in there, and again after supper. They slept REALLY well that night.
* Ben has some hilarious takes on English words and phrases. He's been known to say, usually after a spaghetti dinner: "Thank you for the licious supper!" A TV is a "TD"; likewise a DVD is a "DDD" -- lately in air quotes -- even though the "V" doesn't give him any trouble in other contexts.
The experience reminded us that occasions that seem tragic, like a funeral, tend to have silver linings - like bringing families together when they least expect it.
In the garden
It's been like, three whole posts since I wrote about vegetables, so I guess it's time. I've been neglecting my garden a little bit though I can't think of an excuse for this. (Luckily the backyard isn't particularly fertile, so I don't get a lot of weeds.) We stopped harvesting beans, but the carrots and chard still have potential. Since the kids have started back to school, they've been making their own lunches. Each evening, they pop out to the garden and pull a couple of carrots for their snack. Because I wasn't exactly meticulous about spacing the seeds when I planted, what comes out from under the soil is often surprising.
Sometimes the carrots are perfect, sometimes a little... mutated. (Yes, they are purple carrots. Orange on the inside. Fun huh?)
I'm on the verge of harvesting all the rest of the beautiful chard, and making a chard tart. (With a polenta crust, because I am lazy.)
We had planned to play in a one-day frisbee tournament on Saturday of this past weekend. During the week, a cousin of McPie's passed away (of cancer; we knew it was coming), and after some deliberation and reworking of plans, we packed up with kidlets and headed to Montreal on Saturday morning to attend the funeral.
We had been torn about whether to go or not -- McPie didn't really know his cousin, or her children and grandchildren, and we didn't want to leave our frisbee team shorthanded. But we liked the idea of only having to drive 2 hours instead of 5 to spend time with the rest of the family. McPie's mom, sisters and nephew were also attending, and we'd get to visit Aunt Olive (who's daughter was the one who had passed away).
It turned out to be a rather grand time. We booked into the same hotel as McPie's family, and had a delicious dinner all together at a cozy Italian place. The kids got to hang out with their cousin Andrew, who they adore. I cannot overstate how much the kids LOVE staying in hotels. And this one - though a relatively airport standard - was brand new and spacious. We entered the room expectantly and when Ben marched in he exclaimed "Would you look at this! It's an ORMous*!" And! there was a pool! Post-funeral, the kids spent hours of the afternoon in there, and again after supper. They slept REALLY well that night.
* Ben has some hilarious takes on English words and phrases. He's been known to say, usually after a spaghetti dinner: "Thank you for the licious supper!" A TV is a "TD"; likewise a DVD is a "DDD" -- lately in air quotes -- even though the "V" doesn't give him any trouble in other contexts.
The experience reminded us that occasions that seem tragic, like a funeral, tend to have silver linings - like bringing families together when they least expect it.
In the garden
It's been like, three whole posts since I wrote about vegetables, so I guess it's time. I've been neglecting my garden a little bit though I can't think of an excuse for this. (Luckily the backyard isn't particularly fertile, so I don't get a lot of weeds.) We stopped harvesting beans, but the carrots and chard still have potential. Since the kids have started back to school, they've been making their own lunches. Each evening, they pop out to the garden and pull a couple of carrots for their snack. Because I wasn't exactly meticulous about spacing the seeds when I planted, what comes out from under the soil is often surprising.
Sometimes the carrots are perfect, sometimes a little... mutated. (Yes, they are purple carrots. Orange on the inside. Fun huh?)
I'm on the verge of harvesting all the rest of the beautiful chard, and making a chard tart. (With a polenta crust, because I am lazy.)
Dilemma solved
I have this pet peeve that interferes with my environmentalist best intentions. I can't stand an unflushed toilet. You know that rhyme "If it's yellow, let it mellow... " Ick. Ugh. Can't do it. And of course, the rest of my household had been trained (pre-moi) to take the high road on this issue. I struggle with the guilt, I really do, but in the end, I flush every time.
Well, we have implemented a semi-solution that helps to alleviate my guilt somewhat. A dual-flush toilet. (A normal low-flush toilet flushes 6L of water. A dual-flush toilet gives you the option to flush only 3L if that's all that's... required.) And we really needed a new toilet. I've never seen a toilet die before, but ours was going the way of Findley. Poor, decrepit thing.
We decided. We got one. McPie installed it. Done and done.
Busy weekend ahead
Thursday = Disassemble the dining room.
Friday = Tear up the horrible turquoise vinyl floor
Saturday = Wine club
Sunday = Install cork floor!
To gear up, I've set aside today as a reading/knitting day again. (Tried that a couple of days ago, but it ended up being a "sleeping" day. So I'm giving it another go.)
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
At a loss
I'm having one of those days. There are lots of things I could be doing right now, but I'm either overwhelmed or underwhelmed by the possibilities... I'm not sure which, but as a result I seem to be paralyzed by indecision. Or indolence. So far I've managed only to sit at the computer -- which is fun in itself; I have a new laptop and it's all shiny and smooth, and Windows Vista is novel. But I was even procrastinating writing this post.
Really, what I'm dying to do is a) buy and install a new toilet, and b) start tearing up our turquoise vinyl kitchen floor so we can install the awesome new cork that we finally picked up on the weekend. But for these I need a) a car, and b) some degree of expertise, or at least.
So, what to do? It's raining cats and dogs, so I'm postponing a trip to the grocery store until it clears up. I finished knitting that scarf for McPie last night -- I need to block it and sew in the ends (but I can't remember which order to do those things.) I have some pineapple that needs to be made into muffins. I STILL haven't fully put away the basket full of clean laundry in our room (but I did de-clutter the closet yesterday, so it's primed to receive more stuff). I could sit down for awhile down at the piano, or curl up with DeNiro's Game...
I'd have thought it would be a no-brainer, to curl up with a book just because I can. But I'm struggling with this mental negotiation that I think is based in guilt of some sort. Even though I told myself I'd take time (weeks! or more!) to "just relax" (by which I think I meant something along the lines of "holiday"), I'm having a hard time getting my head around the idea that I am allowed to not be working for just a little bit. There are a lot of "shoulds" swirling around me, and maybe my top priority should be to banish them.
Probably a list of some sort will help... :-)
Really, what I'm dying to do is a) buy and install a new toilet, and b) start tearing up our turquoise vinyl kitchen floor so we can install the awesome new cork that we finally picked up on the weekend. But for these I need a) a car, and b) some degree of expertise, or at least.
So, what to do? It's raining cats and dogs, so I'm postponing a trip to the grocery store until it clears up. I finished knitting that scarf for McPie last night -- I need to block it and sew in the ends (but I can't remember which order to do those things.) I have some pineapple that needs to be made into muffins. I STILL haven't fully put away the basket full of clean laundry in our room (but I did de-clutter the closet yesterday, so it's primed to receive more stuff). I could sit down for awhile down at the piano, or curl up with DeNiro's Game...
I'd have thought it would be a no-brainer, to curl up with a book just because I can. But I'm struggling with this mental negotiation that I think is based in guilt of some sort. Even though I told myself I'd take time (weeks! or more!) to "just relax" (by which I think I meant something along the lines of "holiday"), I'm having a hard time getting my head around the idea that I am allowed to not be working for just a little bit. There are a lot of "shoulds" swirling around me, and maybe my top priority should be to banish them.
Probably a list of some sort will help... :-)
Friday, September 5, 2008
Only thing missing is the frilly apron
Last night for supper, I made meatloaf for supper. And peach cobbler. And then the 1960's called, wanting their stereotype back.
But damn, do the kids love the meatloaf. Actually, it was meat muffins, and they each ate two. I could only finish one. Then they begged for the lefties in their lunch.
I was going to go on a rave about how the Complete Canadian Living cookbook (my second most-used reference, after Lucy's Kitchen; my copy is even autographed by Elizabeth Baird!) has these awesome charts that show how you can vary the flavourings of basic recipes like meatloaf or muffins or fruit crisps (eg: last time I made lasagna meatloaf; this time it was chili meatloaf)... but that would veer dangerously toward "boring domestic mommy blog" territory and nobody really wants to go there, do they?
So I'll change the subject. I started back at the knitting yesterday. (I'm not straying far from the 60's with that one, am I? Ah well...) I started a scarf for McPie last October... it's not far from finished, but I hadn't touched it since maybe last March. I picked it up yesterday and knit while listening to Afghanada. It felt good to be back at it. I figure I'll allow myself to start a new project (something quick and easily gratifying - probably knit on enormous sticks) only when I've finished this one. Last night I picked it up again, and noticed that where I started back to it yesterday, the gauge was totally different for the rows I'd knit that day. Everything I'd done yesterday was noticeably looser than the part of the scarf that I had knit last winter.
I'm thinking this is concrete evidence that I'm feeling a little more relaxed these days!
But damn, do the kids love the meatloaf. Actually, it was meat muffins, and they each ate two. I could only finish one. Then they begged for the lefties in their lunch.
I was going to go on a rave about how the Complete Canadian Living cookbook (my second most-used reference, after Lucy's Kitchen; my copy is even autographed by Elizabeth Baird!) has these awesome charts that show how you can vary the flavourings of basic recipes like meatloaf or muffins or fruit crisps (eg: last time I made lasagna meatloaf; this time it was chili meatloaf)... but that would veer dangerously toward "boring domestic mommy blog" territory and nobody really wants to go there, do they?
So I'll change the subject. I started back at the knitting yesterday. (I'm not straying far from the 60's with that one, am I? Ah well...) I started a scarf for McPie last October... it's not far from finished, but I hadn't touched it since maybe last March. I picked it up yesterday and knit while listening to Afghanada. It felt good to be back at it. I figure I'll allow myself to start a new project (something quick and easily gratifying - probably knit on enormous sticks) only when I've finished this one. Last night I picked it up again, and noticed that where I started back to it yesterday, the gauge was totally different for the rows I'd knit that day. Everything I'd done yesterday was noticeably looser than the part of the scarf that I had knit last winter.
I'm thinking this is concrete evidence that I'm feeling a little more relaxed these days!
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Perspective on the new routine
Two days into my "life of leisure", and the mountains of clean laundry piled in our bedroom still has not been put away. (You like my use of the passive voice there?)
I have, however, baked cookies for school lunches; ensured that there is plenty of lunch-type food for the kids to use when they make their own lunches the night before (a task which they seem oddly enthusiastic about); done some reading; had a couple of good workouts; made yummy suppers (using tomatoes as often as possible); spent a few hours each day out on various errands; mopped the kitchen floor, and napped. Oh, and I've been seeing the family off in the morning with kisses and waves.
"Napping" was not on my list, but it definitely should have been. It will be a little easier next week - my natural naptime feels like 4 PM, which is exactly the same time I walk over to pick up the kids from school. I'll have to tweak that...
It is awesome, by the way, to be able to bring the kiddies home nearly two hours earlier than usual. They seem so content to have time to chill out before supper-time. They are calm and relaxed when Dad comes home from work... Instead of all of us arriving home at six or later in a cloud of chaos as we rush to the kitchen to try to whip up a delicious healthy meal while being bombarded by kids vying for the attention they only have two measly hours to suck from us... Now, I chat them up on the way home, and they get out their news. They have time for snacks, settling in, (eventually, homework). And when Dad gets home, supper's almost ready (with just enough left to do that he can "help"), and we can sit down together peacefully.
The past two nights, the kids have industriously attacked the lunch-making task right after dinner, with little or no prompting. They shower and hit the hay without argument. The mornings have been smooth, not rushed at all. It feels a bit miraculous, really. I know it's only been a couple of days, and the routine could fall apart at any time (the time change in a couple months is notorious for killing good habits), but I'm thrilled at the moment. I won't say there aren't things that will take getting used to (fodder for another post), but right now, this domestic easiness, this lack of rush and anxiety that always accompanied a workweek, it feels extremely satisfying. It feels like maybe we've managed to take a tiny step back from the rat race. Which is exactly the point.
I have, however, baked cookies for school lunches; ensured that there is plenty of lunch-type food for the kids to use when they make their own lunches the night before (a task which they seem oddly enthusiastic about); done some reading; had a couple of good workouts; made yummy suppers (using tomatoes as often as possible); spent a few hours each day out on various errands; mopped the kitchen floor, and napped. Oh, and I've been seeing the family off in the morning with kisses and waves.
"Napping" was not on my list, but it definitely should have been. It will be a little easier next week - my natural naptime feels like 4 PM, which is exactly the same time I walk over to pick up the kids from school. I'll have to tweak that...
It is awesome, by the way, to be able to bring the kiddies home nearly two hours earlier than usual. They seem so content to have time to chill out before supper-time. They are calm and relaxed when Dad comes home from work... Instead of all of us arriving home at six or later in a cloud of chaos as we rush to the kitchen to try to whip up a delicious healthy meal while being bombarded by kids vying for the attention they only have two measly hours to suck from us... Now, I chat them up on the way home, and they get out their news. They have time for snacks, settling in, (eventually, homework). And when Dad gets home, supper's almost ready (with just enough left to do that he can "help"), and we can sit down together peacefully.
The past two nights, the kids have industriously attacked the lunch-making task right after dinner, with little or no prompting. They shower and hit the hay without argument. The mornings have been smooth, not rushed at all. It feels a bit miraculous, really. I know it's only been a couple of days, and the routine could fall apart at any time (the time change in a couple months is notorious for killing good habits), but I'm thrilled at the moment. I won't say there aren't things that will take getting used to (fodder for another post), but right now, this domestic easiness, this lack of rush and anxiety that always accompanied a workweek, it feels extremely satisfying. It feels like maybe we've managed to take a tiny step back from the rat race. Which is exactly the point.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
New Year's Day - the Annex
Mel pointed out in a comment last week that the beginning of September is more like the start of a new year, rather than the beginning of January. Whereas on Jan 1 it's already winter, Sept 1 really does mark the beginning of a change in weather... Even though it's gonna be hot as Hades this week, it still smells like autumn in the morning, the night comes early, and we sent the kids to school in hoodies this morning.
And of course, with kids in the house, the lifestyle shift is tremendous at this time of year, and the excitement leading up to it is next only to Christmas Eve. (Although Constance is going into grade five - !! - this year, the back to school thing is relatively new to me. Or maybe it's something that parent never quite gets used to...)
I am so happy to be able to say that we kicked off the new year in style. By which I mean, in a fun-loving yet well-organized, drama-free, and punctual manner.
We spent Labour Day at Upper Canada Village - a trip we'd been meaning to make all summer, which we managed to squeak in at the last possible moment (typical). What a wonderful place! Besides being abolutely picturesque (I would totally live in one of those two-room farmhouses with a woodstove, as long as I got to have that yard and garden and split rail fence too!), it's as interesting for kids on the move -- Ben, who always wanted to move on to the next place -- as kids in the know -- Constance, who was trying to soak up the ambiance and history as much as we were.
We had a boat ride, we bought candy in the general store, and more candy in the candy shop, and we topped it off with the mini-train ride, which was cool and breezy and scenic and calmed everyone down for the drive home. Are these the faces of happy campers, or what?
Despite getting home rather late, and everyone being bushed from the walking and the hot sun, we managed a delicious dinner (tofu burgers - a family fave - and more of the wonderful sweet Bryson corn)... and BOTH kids made their lunches, brushed their teeth, and hopped into bed with nary a word of protest or attempt at negotiation.
This is the first time ever that lunches have been made the night before. This morning, we were ready to leave fully 15 minutes before we had to leave, on a day where we needed to be there 15 minutes before the bell. Mark this, friends, as history in the making. (And it may never happen again.) Ta-da! Ready to go:
Now, everyone has been successfully delivered, McPie has been waved off to work, and I have a loose plan for the day. (Workout, put away laundry, groceries... read!)
And of course, with kids in the house, the lifestyle shift is tremendous at this time of year, and the excitement leading up to it is next only to Christmas Eve. (Although Constance is going into grade five - !! - this year, the back to school thing is relatively new to me. Or maybe it's something that parent never quite gets used to...)
I am so happy to be able to say that we kicked off the new year in style. By which I mean, in a fun-loving yet well-organized, drama-free, and punctual manner.
We spent Labour Day at Upper Canada Village - a trip we'd been meaning to make all summer, which we managed to squeak in at the last possible moment (typical). What a wonderful place! Besides being abolutely picturesque (I would totally live in one of those two-room farmhouses with a woodstove, as long as I got to have that yard and garden and split rail fence too!), it's as interesting for kids on the move -- Ben, who always wanted to move on to the next place -- as kids in the know -- Constance, who was trying to soak up the ambiance and history as much as we were.
We had a boat ride, we bought candy in the general store, and more candy in the candy shop, and we topped it off with the mini-train ride, which was cool and breezy and scenic and calmed everyone down for the drive home. Are these the faces of happy campers, or what?
Despite getting home rather late, and everyone being bushed from the walking and the hot sun, we managed a delicious dinner (tofu burgers - a family fave - and more of the wonderful sweet Bryson corn)... and BOTH kids made their lunches, brushed their teeth, and hopped into bed with nary a word of protest or attempt at negotiation.
This is the first time ever that lunches have been made the night before. This morning, we were ready to leave fully 15 minutes before we had to leave, on a day where we needed to be there 15 minutes before the bell. Mark this, friends, as history in the making. (And it may never happen again.) Ta-da! Ready to go:
Now, everyone has been successfully delivered, McPie has been waved off to work, and I have a loose plan for the day. (Workout, put away laundry, groceries... read!)
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Overrun
Forgive me for posting another picture of vegetables. I can't help it -- this is too crazy. We barely made a dent in the tomato delivery from last week, and this week's was even bigger. Our kitchen has been overrun by tomatoes:
This picture is missing the half dozen roma tomatoes, or what looked like romas, that we pulled out to make tomato sauce for spaghetti (McPie is making it as I type), the handful of cherry-sized ones that Constance grabbed for a snack, and another half dozen of various colours that I have just chopped up for bruschetta. I included the bunch of basil that was included in the grocery box, because really, you can hardly have one without the other.
Now I know what I'm doing next week: salsa.
This picture is missing the half dozen roma tomatoes, or what looked like romas, that we pulled out to make tomato sauce for spaghetti (McPie is making it as I type), the handful of cherry-sized ones that Constance grabbed for a snack, and another half dozen of various colours that I have just chopped up for bruschetta. I included the bunch of basil that was included in the grocery box, because really, you can hardly have one without the other.
Now I know what I'm doing next week: salsa.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
A change is gonna come
Really, really soon. This is my last week of work. On Tuesday, September 2, I will get up out of bed, help make coffee and breakfasts, take a shower, walk the kids to school for their first day, wave good-bye to McPie from the porch as he drives off to work... Then I'll come back into the house... and probably do a little dance.
The rumours are true: I don't have any specific plans about what to do next. I don't have a job lined up. I don't even have any particular plans to look for a job. In the outside world, anyway.
It's been a bit of a tumultuous summer, coming to terms with this decision to leave my current (tedious but lucrative) career and (wonderful) employer, cold turkey. Well sort of cold turkey - working part-time this summer has given me a taste of a non-corporate life (see description of mornings above - I've practised that a bit this summer).
I've been struggling to dispel (from my own brain) the conventional notion that I'm supposed to be working at a professional job for a company that pays me a useful-sized paycheque. My instincts have traditionally told me that I contribute to a family by supporting them (and myself) financially. Over the past couple of years, it's grown increasingly apparent that having plenty of financial resources isn't the thing that makes our family happy. (I do realize there may be things I take for granted and may find out otherwise soon enough, but I'm happy to get educated.) We live simply, and the kids make it pretty clear that what they want is more of us, not more stuff or a bigger, better house. Although this has been becoming clearer to us, it's still incredibly difficult to shake the notion that we need to be working, because we can. Because we should.
Obviously, there is a practical component to this: we need to feed and clothe family, keep a roof over our heads, and provide forms of basic leisure and entertainment. And to this end, somebody has to work. But we're pretty sure that, with some careful planning, it only needs to be one of us. McPie and I have actually gone back and forth on which one of us will be the one to do so, and I stayed in my current role while he worked through a couple of career changes to find his current satisfactory position. Now I get a turn. I am so incredibly grateful to be gifted with this opportunity to grow and change in one particular area of my life.
The rumours are true: I don't have any specific plans about what to do next. I don't have a job lined up. I don't even have any particular plans to look for a job. In the outside world, anyway.
It's been a bit of a tumultuous summer, coming to terms with this decision to leave my current (tedious but lucrative) career and (wonderful) employer, cold turkey. Well sort of cold turkey - working part-time this summer has given me a taste of a non-corporate life (see description of mornings above - I've practised that a bit this summer).
I've been struggling to dispel (from my own brain) the conventional notion that I'm supposed to be working at a professional job for a company that pays me a useful-sized paycheque. My instincts have traditionally told me that I contribute to a family by supporting them (and myself) financially. Over the past couple of years, it's grown increasingly apparent that having plenty of financial resources isn't the thing that makes our family happy. (I do realize there may be things I take for granted and may find out otherwise soon enough, but I'm happy to get educated.) We live simply, and the kids make it pretty clear that what they want is more of us, not more stuff or a bigger, better house. Although this has been becoming clearer to us, it's still incredibly difficult to shake the notion that we need to be working, because we can. Because we should.
Obviously, there is a practical component to this: we need to feed and clothe family, keep a roof over our heads, and provide forms of basic leisure and entertainment. And to this end, somebody has to work. But we're pretty sure that, with some careful planning, it only needs to be one of us. McPie and I have actually gone back and forth on which one of us will be the one to do so, and I stayed in my current role while he worked through a couple of career changes to find his current satisfactory position. Now I get a turn. I am so incredibly grateful to be gifted with this opportunity to grow and change in one particular area of my life.
I do have lots of plans. A big part of it, to start, will be working on our home (not necessarily the house itself, but the entire environment and set of routines), to try to optimize all the good stuff we already have going within our family. I expect (hope?!) that I'll find the motivation and time to explore some of my own interests -- which ideally will lead to revelations about where my career path lies. Maybe I'll end up back here, doing this same work; but if I do, it will be with a searched-soul and renewed outlook.
The future is pretty much wide open. I'll definitely keep you posted.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Veggie heaven, with a hint of glitter
It was a big weekend for us.
Our first delivery of farm fresh vegetables arrived. Our "basket for two" didn't even fit in the cooler. The FOUR boxes of heirloom tomatoes were sitting beside the cooler on the porch.
Besides tomatoes, we got corn, beets, zucchini, mixed salad greens, micro-greens (radish sprouts), fingerling potatoes, rapini, fennel, and another as-yet-unidentified herb.
As if that's not summer-making enough, McPie picked up a new drum kit just in time for his big show on Saturday night. It's very flashy:
In fact, he may even consider donning some fancy face paint, platform boots, and possibly shoulder pads for the next show...
Our first delivery of farm fresh vegetables arrived. Our "basket for two" didn't even fit in the cooler. The FOUR boxes of heirloom tomatoes were sitting beside the cooler on the porch.
Besides tomatoes, we got corn, beets, zucchini, mixed salad greens, micro-greens (radish sprouts), fingerling potatoes, rapini, fennel, and another as-yet-unidentified herb.
As if that's not summer-making enough, McPie picked up a new drum kit just in time for his big show on Saturday night. It's very flashy:
In fact, he may even consider donning some fancy face paint, platform boots, and possibly shoulder pads for the next show...
Friday, August 22, 2008
Aftermath, plus vegetables
Our trip to Calgary for Nationals was a success! Ken's team, GLUM (Green Light Ultimate Masters), won the national championship trophy for the Master's division (men over age 33). They were undefeated in the whole tournament. Scarlett finished 10th of 12, which doesn't look that great on paper, but everyone on the team brought their "A" game and we managed to eke out a win on each of the three days of the tournament. An awesome result for a team consisting of mainly rookie talent: many of the women on the team are playing competitive ultimate for the very first time this summer, and have only participated in a few tournaments.
The tournament conditions were challenging. The average temperature out there was about 30 degrees, with not a cloud in the sky. Combined with the dry air (which, of course, is arguably better than hot AND humid), and the 3500 ft elevation, we ended up pretty much zapped each day, and for days after we returned. (After struggling zombie-like to get some housework done on my day off on Tuesday, I gave up and called in sick on Wednesday, to spent a much needed day in bed, just plain sleeping.)
We did manage to squeeze in an afternoon drive through the mountains Kananaskis country, where we said "Wow" quite often.
Now, we're looking forward to a relative break in the frisbee schedule. (Of course we don't give it up in the Fall, just scale back to fewer games a week, and skip it altogether on weeks when we have the kids.)
Speaking of looking forward: Bryson Farms has finally added central Hull to their delivery circuit! Starting tomorrow, we're going to be getting farm fresh, locally grown organic produce delivered to our front door! I know there are other CSA farms in the area, but I am a bit delinquent in my research, so I waited to sign up with the one that has a completely online enrollment system. Sigh.
I explained to Constance how were were going to be getting awesome veggies delivered weekly. A little while later, I heard her exclaiming "I can't WAIT until we get all the delicious vegetables! Yum!" She also gets very excited when she finds out that she's eating "happy animal" meat from the butcher. Sometimes, I'm not sure she's a real child.
Anyway, besides all the obvious reasons I'm happy about our imminent vegetable influx (not the least of which is the variety of heirloom tomatoes!), I'm looking forward to trips to the grocery store which will now only require a quick dart in for fruit, dairy, and bread.
But of course, baking bread is high on my list of Job Responsibilities, so it's possible that IGA may fall off radar altogether, and I can rely on the our local health food store for my milled goods... (Oh, how I dream!)
My garden is still producing: we are regularly gathering swiss chard for sandwiches and sautéed greens, and we are soon going to bring in the carrot harvest. I have a hard time getting to the beans while they are still young and tender, but the kids like eating the big, starchy ones raw. Didn't have much success with the cherry tomatoes -- too much rain, I think, and not enough drainage in the pots. The plants lost most of their leaves, and only produced about one tiny ripened tomato at a time. Each of which I promptly popped into my mouth.Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Saol fada chugat*
Last night at frisbee, a teammate I was chatting with mentioned that she was going on vacation to Ireland at the beginning of September. She and a friend were going to rent a car and just drive around, touristing... I immediately went into gush mode, mentioning that my mom and I had vacationed in Ireland, where we rented a car and flew by the seats of our pants. I assured her that a friendlier place could not be imagined; that no matter what they did (and knowing this friend, much pubbing is likely on the agenda) they were sure to have the time of their lives.
Later in the evening (actually, tossing and turning, unable to sleep thanks to a sore belly - likely from eating too late after the game), it occurred to me: it was exactly ten years ago THIS WEEK that my mother and I were whooping it up on the Emerald Isle. I set about trying to remember all the wonderful details of that trip:
Later in the evening (actually, tossing and turning, unable to sleep thanks to a sore belly - likely from eating too late after the game), it occurred to me: it was exactly ten years ago THIS WEEK that my mother and I were whooping it up on the Emerald Isle. I set about trying to remember all the wonderful details of that trip:
- The totally jetlagged but breathtakingly scenic drive from Shannon up into Connemara on our first day
- Falling asleep in our mead at the medieval dinner at the end of that first jetlagged day
- Riding bikes through the mist of Inisbofin (throwing up on the tiny ferry on the way over, but keeping our eyes on the horizon on the way back)
- Getting dragged by some young Dubliners to an illicit (and non-alcholic) dance when the pubs shut down on Inismor
- Walking solitary along the rugged and completely deserted coast of Inisheer, and convening at the one pub on the island, where the young local fellas were fascinated by the "new" lasses
- Finding the perfect keepsake in the form of an antique emerald ring (for mom) in a tiny shop in Cork
- The clatter of our hostess's wooden teeth at our B&B in Kilkenny (the tiniest room in the world - we pretty much had to sleep with our suitcases)
- The amazing meal in Kenmare (an unexpected stop on the way to Dingle); it was salmon, naturally
- An unplanned but completely enchanted sunset exploration of the tip of Dingle Peninsula, where we discovered hidden Celtic ruins and ancient churches
- Stopping along the road wherever we were overwhelmed by the scenery, where mom invariably went after the sheep that were inevitably ambling about
- Touring the Jameson whiskey distillery, with mom volunteering for the complete tasting experience... at 10 AM! (We've been Irish whiskey aficionados - or at least drinkers - ever since)
- Sitting on a wet bench in Dublin, grease dripping from our chins as we gobbled our paper-wrapped fish and chips
- The smell of burning peat in the air - everywhere -- there is no more comforting scent anywhere on earth
- The lovely, bountiful, delicious, refreshing beer.
I could certainly go on and on. And I would go back in an instant (in fact, my sister and I travelled to Northern Ireland a few years later, and had a wonderful time there as well.) In fact, I'm feeling inspired - when I return from our vacation, I'm going to dig up some of our pictures from that trip, and scan them for posting.
If you ever get an opportunity to visit Ireland, GO. I promise, you will love it.
* Long life to you!
Monday, August 11, 2008
Happy gap
Through some failure in planning, we ended up with a childcare gap this week. The kids' mom is on holidays for August, and was going to be offering "Camp Céline" all month. However, this week, The Moms are off on their honeymoon (we enjoyed the wedding this past Friday - another story). Although on some level we knew this would be happening, we didn't connect it to what we would do with the children for the few days this week that they are with us. (They are joining the Moms on the Honeymoon At the Cottage in a couple of days, when we leave for Nationals.)
So, it is necessary for me to work from home today, to ensure that we live up to Quebec law and order by not leaving the kidlets home alone. Although, frankly, I think they'd be quite capable of managing for themselves. They are quite clever, and decidedly unmischievous and non-troublemaking.
And, it turns out, they are also very cooperative, peaceable, and well-behaved.
It could have been a disaster - trying to get work done here with them milling about, vying for attention, whining about boredom and "what is there to do?"
But no. They've been completely sweet and self-contained all day. They've watched a movie, been to the depanneur (twice, together, cooperatively!) with the coins their Dad left them this morning. (Soda pop was the top priority - it's something we don't keep in the house.) They've played games on the computer... and I believe Constance is currently in the process of giving herself spa treatments. In general, they've totally entertained themselves for seven straight hours. Without a single inter-sibling squabble.
All of which makes "having" to work from home a nice treat after all. A good thing, since I'll have to do it again tomorrow...
So, it is necessary for me to work from home today, to ensure that we live up to Quebec law and order by not leaving the kidlets home alone. Although, frankly, I think they'd be quite capable of managing for themselves. They are quite clever, and decidedly unmischievous and non-troublemaking.
And, it turns out, they are also very cooperative, peaceable, and well-behaved.
It could have been a disaster - trying to get work done here with them milling about, vying for attention, whining about boredom and "what is there to do?"
But no. They've been completely sweet and self-contained all day. They've watched a movie, been to the depanneur (twice, together, cooperatively!) with the coins their Dad left them this morning. (Soda pop was the top priority - it's something we don't keep in the house.) They've played games on the computer... and I believe Constance is currently in the process of giving herself spa treatments. In general, they've totally entertained themselves for seven straight hours. Without a single inter-sibling squabble.
All of which makes "having" to work from home a nice treat after all. A good thing, since I'll have to do it again tomorrow...
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Listing
The count: 3 weeks (minus most of one in to be spent in Calgary), OR 8.5 working days.
Then, I move on to my next job. I will be self-employed, and have been working on my own job description. Here is what I have so far:
Incumbent will be responsible for the following activities:
read fiction
make lunches the night before
write anything, often
play the piano
bake bread and cookies
wave good-bye to family from porch each morning
volunteer
study French
learn a computer useful program such as DreamWeaver
keep loose tabs on contracting opportunities
work out
preserve vegetables
think seriously, consider deeply
blog daily
take the YMCA fitness certification basic theory course
redecorate the spare room
keep abreast of (or even atop!) the laundry situation
boost overall family morale
Note: This is a living document and will be continuously updated.
Then, I move on to my next job. I will be self-employed, and have been working on my own job description. Here is what I have so far:
Incumbent will be responsible for the following activities:
read fiction
make lunches the night before
write anything, often
play the piano
bake bread and cookies
wave good-bye to family from porch each morning
volunteer
study French
learn a computer useful program such as DreamWeaver
keep loose tabs on contracting opportunities
work out
preserve vegetables
think seriously, consider deeply
blog daily
take the YMCA fitness certification basic theory course
redecorate the spare room
keep abreast of (or even atop!) the laundry situation
boost overall family morale
Note: This is a living document and will be continuously updated.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Cure all
This weekend, McPie and I played in a local ultimate tournament for co-ed teams. Despite the preliminary weather reports calling for rain all weekend, we were blessed with conditions ranging from pleasantly overcast, to thunder and lightning in the distance, to downright hot, humid and sunny -- pretty much everything BUT the promised showers. Which was a nice break. At any rate, we played our little hearts out for two days (six scheduled games, and we picked up with another team that was short on players during our bye), in primarily hot and sunny weather. Not much different from most of the other five (!) tournaments I've participated in so far this summer. (Because I'm a total geek, I have taken the time to calculate that, including league and tournaments, I've played approximately 54 games of ultimate since the beginning of May, which averages 4.5 games per week, given that I've taken two separate weeks off - one for vacation and one for injury. And frankly, I'm not even that hard core, compared to some people. At least, that's what I tell myself.)
Maybe it was the culmination of a hard week of work and working out leading up to the tourney, or maybe it was just a long weekend thing, but despite eating healthily and heartily all weekend to support our efforts, we felt out of whack today - lazy and indolent, with a vast expanse of holiday Monday stretching out before us.
What to do?
In an unexpected flash of brilliance and energy, McPie quickly diagnosed our lethargy as an electrolyte imbalance brought on by too much fun in the sun, and set himself upon the task of setting us to rights. His prescription?
Poutine.
I was too lazy to protest. Me. Who has never indulged in more than three consecutive bites of poutine in her life, and felt guilty after each of those.
He immediately set out to La Pataterie Hulloise (conveniently located four blocks from our house), and returned tout de suite with two enormous styrofoam buckets of poutine, prepared in the classic West Quebec tradition: fresh squeaky cheese curds, fresh cut potatoes (really!) and salty dark brown gravy from a can. (They were actually size Medium, but they looked huge to me, of the three-bite-max mentality.)
I announced that I would never be able to finish that gargantuan portion of poutine. Ten minutes later, I was poking the bottom of the bucket, trying to concurrently spear the last curd and the last fry.
And now here I am, having mustered the energy to sit at the table and type for half and hour. We might even manage to go out for groceries....
Maybe it was the culmination of a hard week of work and working out leading up to the tourney, or maybe it was just a long weekend thing, but despite eating healthily and heartily all weekend to support our efforts, we felt out of whack today - lazy and indolent, with a vast expanse of holiday Monday stretching out before us.
What to do?
In an unexpected flash of brilliance and energy, McPie quickly diagnosed our lethargy as an electrolyte imbalance brought on by too much fun in the sun, and set himself upon the task of setting us to rights. His prescription?
Poutine.
I was too lazy to protest. Me. Who has never indulged in more than three consecutive bites of poutine in her life, and felt guilty after each of those.
He immediately set out to La Pataterie Hulloise (conveniently located four blocks from our house), and returned tout de suite with two enormous styrofoam buckets of poutine, prepared in the classic West Quebec tradition: fresh squeaky cheese curds, fresh cut potatoes (really!) and salty dark brown gravy from a can. (They were actually size Medium, but they looked huge to me, of the three-bite-max mentality.)
I announced that I would never be able to finish that gargantuan portion of poutine. Ten minutes later, I was poking the bottom of the bucket, trying to concurrently spear the last curd and the last fry.
And now here I am, having mustered the energy to sit at the table and type for half and hour. We might even manage to go out for groceries....
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Final flight of Porch Family Robinsons
Well, the robins have flown the coop. Er, nest.
They grew up so fast! It was difficult to get good pictures, what will all the parental protection and all. Here a couple of enthusiastic week-old beaks. The opening of the door always prompted them to pop up - like *I* was the one serving them dinner.
Last Friday, we left the house in the morning to take the car into the shop. Three of the four birds were perched on the edge of the nest, looking rather expectant. And also, puffy. Like this:
(This pic was actually taken a little later, when I realized it was probably my last chance to capture them.)
Anyway, I had gone to the end of the porch for some reason, and as I came back toward the nest and approached the stairs (below the nest), there was a sudden furious flutter, swoosh, and SPLAT! as one of the little ones took flight, while simultaneously letting go a copious volume of shit. Which missed me by inches. (He landed across the street in the neighbour's driveway, and disappeared shortly thereafter.)
I snapped the picture above when we got back, and sometime later in the morning, these two fellas took off, unwitnessed by us. The last one was finally perched in solitude on the edge of the nest, and took flight when I came out with some laundry to hang. Bye bye birdie!
And we were left with a silent, friendly porch, and a mountain of bird crap under the nest to clean up. Which, naturally, we are still trying to get around to doing.
They grew up so fast! It was difficult to get good pictures, what will all the parental protection and all. Here a couple of enthusiastic week-old beaks. The opening of the door always prompted them to pop up - like *I* was the one serving them dinner.
Last Friday, we left the house in the morning to take the car into the shop. Three of the four birds were perched on the edge of the nest, looking rather expectant. And also, puffy. Like this:
(This pic was actually taken a little later, when I realized it was probably my last chance to capture them.)
Anyway, I had gone to the end of the porch for some reason, and as I came back toward the nest and approached the stairs (below the nest), there was a sudden furious flutter, swoosh, and SPLAT! as one of the little ones took flight, while simultaneously letting go a copious volume of shit. Which missed me by inches. (He landed across the street in the neighbour's driveway, and disappeared shortly thereafter.)
I snapped the picture above when we got back, and sometime later in the morning, these two fellas took off, unwitnessed by us. The last one was finally perched in solitude on the edge of the nest, and took flight when I came out with some laundry to hang. Bye bye birdie!
And we were left with a silent, friendly porch, and a mountain of bird crap under the nest to clean up. Which, naturally, we are still trying to get around to doing.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Lament for lazy sandwich making
My very favourite lunch to bring to work is an avocado, cheese and spinach sandwich. (With variations, such as chard, peppers, cucumbers, or tomato.) Sweetie McPie makes my sandwich every morning, and I look forward to eating it every day.
Today, my sandwich had a wee bit of unexpected crunch to it. Later, I received this email from my early-morning-sandwich-making honey:
If your spinach was too gritty
and it made your sandwich shitty
I profess my guilt
'twas I who built
who, each item felt,
and viewed (eyes askew)
and knew
that our leafy favourite
was replete with grit,
the farmer's very land
all clay and sand,
amongst the verdant treat
'twas I who did complete
your luncheon
for you to munch on,
not grind, as gravel chewing swine
might do,
noooooo.
I turned a blind eye to dirt
this morning and now
my lunch hour of mourning,
filled with worry borne of dawn's hurry
that my lover's sweet saliva has
become a slurry.
Luckily, I'm not too fussy. My sammy was as delicious as ever. And I always appreciate a bit of extra roughage.
Today, my sandwich had a wee bit of unexpected crunch to it. Later, I received this email from my early-morning-sandwich-making honey:
If your spinach was too gritty
and it made your sandwich shitty
I profess my guilt
'twas I who built
who, each item felt,
and viewed (eyes askew)
and knew
that our leafy favourite
was replete with grit,
the farmer's very land
all clay and sand,
amongst the verdant treat
'twas I who did complete
your luncheon
for you to munch on,
not grind, as gravel chewing swine
might do,
noooooo.
I turned a blind eye to dirt
this morning and now
my lunch hour of mourning,
filled with worry borne of dawn's hurry
that my lover's sweet saliva has
become a slurry.
Luckily, I'm not too fussy. My sammy was as delicious as ever. And I always appreciate a bit of extra roughage.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Under siege
Ok, I know that less than 8 hours have passed since I promised to not to talk about the robins, but man! It's a war zone out there.
I'm trying to set up for a work out in the backyard (yes G, your Olympic bar is very very handy!) but I'm under attack! From the moment I stepped outside the door -- and moved quickly to the other end of the porch -- Papa Robin started stalking and swoop-bombing me. (Swoop-bombing is a less aggressive form of dive-bombing. You probably didn't know; I made it up.)
It's going to rain soon, I'm getting hungry, and I need to get some squats and chin-ups in! I'm going to try a different approach (literally - from the front door and through the driveway...) Wish me luck!
I'm trying to set up for a work out in the backyard (yes G, your Olympic bar is very very handy!) but I'm under attack! From the moment I stepped outside the door -- and moved quickly to the other end of the porch -- Papa Robin started stalking and swoop-bombing me. (Swoop-bombing is a less aggressive form of dive-bombing. You probably didn't know; I made it up.)
It's going to rain soon, I'm getting hungry, and I need to get some squats and chin-ups in! I'm going to try a different approach (literally - from the front door and through the driveway...) Wish me luck!
Monday, July 21, 2008
Better than TV
We now have four robin chicks living on the lamp outside our back door. Hull Family Robins are providing us with endless entertainment at all times of the day.
Mama and Papa Robin are so busy, constantly swooping in with bugs and worms. The instant they approach the nest, four little heads supporting enormous open beaks pop up waggling wildly, fighting to be the "tallest" to get the treat. It's awesome.
I'm hoping to be able to get a picture, but we've been doing our best to appear uninterested in the nest, just in case this matter to the parents. It doesn't help at all that they built it in the once place on our property that gets the MOST traffic. But they seem unperturbed so far -- if a parent is on the nest, it will swoop away when we open the door, but will return as soon as we're six feet away.
Actually, they're pretty feisty little fellas, those robins. This morning I was out on the porch, and suddenly, on the path between our neighbour's house and ours a black squirrel comes dashing out with Mama Robin totally attacking him. It was like a catfight. Only, with different animals. Squirrel shook her off near the road, but she stalked him across the street and down the neighbour's driveway. Curious. I suspect a tussle over a certain tasty buggy morsel. (Although, apparently robins are more into fruit than worms! Including tomatoes... I'll have to move my cherry tomatoes when they begin to ripen - they are currently sitting right beside the robin's nest!)
Something I never realized - the robins totally sleep at night. When we come home in the evening, there's Mama (or Papa! We've definitely witnessed two adult birds tending the brood) snuggled on top of the babies, apparently keeping watch. But we approach, open the door and go inside and she doesn't move a muscle - totally dead to the world asleep.
Even if we had cable, I think our fascination with the addition to the household would remain unabated. But I suspect, dear reader, that your fascination with this topic has likely waned -- if you've even read this far -- and so I will leave it at that. (Unless something really exciting happens! Like another squirrel-fight! Or First Flight of the Hatchlings!)
Mama and Papa Robin are so busy, constantly swooping in with bugs and worms. The instant they approach the nest, four little heads supporting enormous open beaks pop up waggling wildly, fighting to be the "tallest" to get the treat. It's awesome.
I'm hoping to be able to get a picture, but we've been doing our best to appear uninterested in the nest, just in case this matter to the parents. It doesn't help at all that they built it in the once place on our property that gets the MOST traffic. But they seem unperturbed so far -- if a parent is on the nest, it will swoop away when we open the door, but will return as soon as we're six feet away.
Actually, they're pretty feisty little fellas, those robins. This morning I was out on the porch, and suddenly, on the path between our neighbour's house and ours a black squirrel comes dashing out with Mama Robin totally attacking him. It was like a catfight. Only, with different animals. Squirrel shook her off near the road, but she stalked him across the street and down the neighbour's driveway. Curious. I suspect a tussle over a certain tasty buggy morsel. (Although, apparently robins are more into fruit than worms! Including tomatoes... I'll have to move my cherry tomatoes when they begin to ripen - they are currently sitting right beside the robin's nest!)
Something I never realized - the robins totally sleep at night. When we come home in the evening, there's Mama (or Papa! We've definitely witnessed two adult birds tending the brood) snuggled on top of the babies, apparently keeping watch. But we approach, open the door and go inside and she doesn't move a muscle - totally dead to the world asleep.
Even if we had cable, I think our fascination with the addition to the household would remain unabated. But I suspect, dear reader, that your fascination with this topic has likely waned -- if you've even read this far -- and so I will leave it at that. (Unless something really exciting happens! Like another squirrel-fight! Or First Flight of the Hatchlings!)
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