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.

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.

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.

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...

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.

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:

• 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!

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...

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.

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....