The Fabric of Her Reality

Going Big

2011-06-03T00:19:00.003-04:00

I have a birthday coming up on Sunday, and a rule about birthdays: never spend them alone at home. Especially birthdays that are divisible by 5, and even more so for the decade markers, which I may or may not be celebrating this year. :)

With hubby away in Afghanistan, there was only one option for this year: go big. Very big. This big.

11 days on the ship in the Baltic Sea, with 7 ports of call, not including the embarkation in Copenhagen. This is a big of a life-long dream being fulfilled, as I am partially of Finnish ancestry, and that area of the world has always fascinated me. Icing on the cake: meeting some of my Finnish relatives in Helsinki on the 12th.

Or is the icing on the cake the fact that the girlfriend I'm travelling with got us upgraded to Executive First class on the Toronto-Copenhagen flight? Champagne and beds on a plane... now *that's* travelling.

Somehow, with all this excitement, 40 doesn't seem so bad. Who can be depressed about another decade when one's in Oslo, Norway? Not me! :)

Follow me here on the ship's bridge-cam, and I'll try to post when I have time.

May Two-Four

2011-05-23T15:19:00.005-04:00

Mummy Linda came for a visit from Lacombe, Alberta. There was frolicking with kitties...

There was a spa day at Le Nordik...

There was a wonderful overnight jaunt to the Wakefield Inn...

More glorious food than you could shake a stick at...

And gardening. Finally.

There were also giggles with friends, visits with stepchildren and so much more. It was a wonderful visit and I miss you already, mummy.

Winterkill

2011-05-08T17:27:00.005-04:00

The harsh winter did my garden no favours. Half of my perennials won't be coming back, both floral and herbal. Even the mint died, and that stuff is more tenacious than many a weed. About 20% of my garlic was winter-killed, soft and rotting in the ground, and another 20% of the bulbs were thrown out of the soil by frost-heaves, despite my careful mulching in the fall.

Between that, the f^*%@ing miserable "spring" weather, my discovery of Bryson Farm's lovely organic, heritage veggies delivered right to my door, and the outdoor water ban imposed on my community until August (!)... my gardening craving is just simply non-existent. Two weeks until the last frost date, and I have no seeds started and no plans.

The few wild-sewn poppies in my front garden are about a week away from blooming... if you go back to last year, they were at this point in early April. The season is almost a full month off last year (which, admittedly, was early.)

I know that come summer and warm weather I may regret this decision but I can only think of three things I want to plant this year aside from my poor garlic: rosemary, more mint (may it rest in peace), and basil. Oh, and maybe cherry tomatoes. Hey, maybe some sugar-snap peas, too...

Kinda sounds like I do have plans for the garden after all, doesn't it?

Community

2011-04-10T14:45:00.003-04:00

When I was in high school, I was a part of a very close and vibrant church family. My mum required me to go to church but she didn't specify which one, so I chose one where several of my high-school friends were members. I found a wonderful family there; I felt valued and included, rare commodities for a teen-aged girl. That church and its youth group formed a safety net for me and became the whole of my social life.

I moved away from that sleepy city after graduation from high school, moved away from Christianity a few years later, and more recently moved away from organized religion altogether. I have too many issues with specific theological points to swallow the pretty fairy-tales, not to mention the rampant hubris and blatant arrogance of religions when they invariably make the claim that they are the ONLY one way to God, and everyone else is wrong. Only frail, weak, stupid humans could make up a story like that.

I don't miss my faith. I am fine with the framework of beliefs I have created through the destructive process of testing every belief and tearing it down if it did not hold weight. I am left with a rather minimalist view of God, and He and I are okay with that.

What I do miss, though, is the sense of belonging that comes with attending a church. A community of people who all hold the same beliefs is a powerful force, and I have effectively painted myself out of that warm glow. I have a neighbor across the street who is quite active in the JW community, and every Saturday when nicely-dressed people pull up in their cars and come into his house for post-church coffee and fellowship, I am envious and lonely for that type of interaction.

My mum feels this, too. She, like me, is post-religion yet longing for community. We discussed going to church anyhow, but in order to be truly accepted into a church family, they need to get to know us... and our lack of belief would eventually betray us.

In an era where families are geographically peppered throughout the globe, organized religion has failed so many of us, and technology seems to isolate us even further, where does one turn to find a sense of community?

Crisis of Self

2011-04-03T22:30:00.000-04:00

I met someone a few days ago who challenged my sense of satisfaction with my accomplishments. At roughly my age, this person has obtained a doctorate in a challenging field, published papers, taught at a university, and is an active and acknowledged contributor in a related field. When, I wonder, do they sleep?

Up until I read their bio, I felt pretty good about myself with my service to country, honours in college and shiny new career. For a short time after, though, I felt that it was a pretty pitiful pile of accomplishments. Their acts are writ large on the stage of the world, and mine are far more humble. I yearned for the kind of greatness I saw in the deeds of this person.

This little crisis of self lasted a whole day or two until I realized that although my doings were far less public and attributable, they were no less important; by participating in peacekeeping missions, I have in a small way contributed to the stability of the world in general. By serving my country, Queen and government, I have protected and defended Canada's interests in a rather direct way.

We have both made our contributions to the world, and neither is less valid than the other. Having realized this, though, I also came to the realization that academic success is still something I crave; college is by no means the end of my scholastic journey.

Welcome Back to the Real World

2011-03-13T19:16:00.003-04:00

When I told my husband I intended to take three months off after graduation, he looked at me incredulously and asked what on earth I would do with myself for all that time. I listed it all off: the quilting, knitting, cross-stitch, the books I wanted to read, the games I wanted to play, the yoga classes I wanted to attend, the weight-lifting routine I intended to take up. There was no lack of things to fill my time with, and I was looking forward to building the life I wanted to.

Now, three months later, having had that precious gift of unstructured time, I've learned some things about myself. It was surprising for me to learn that without any sort of structure, I am not half as efficient as I usually am. I didn't get half as much done as I thought I would (but I sure did a lot of gaming...) Apparently, I just do better with deadlines.

Another thing that surprised me was my thirst for the company of others. I've never considered myself a terribly social creature but without work or school colleagues I found myself looking forward to having to go to the grocery store, just for the simple human contact.

I'm not saying I didn't enjoy my time off, 'cause I totally did, but it was a revelation. I look forward to starting my new job tomorrow, to having a reason to get up in the morning, to meeting new colleagues and perhaps new friends, to learning a new trade, and to rejoining the real world, already in progress.

Five Months Later...?

2011-02-12T17:10:00.004-05:00

It's been months since I last posted. The fourth and last semester of school ate me alive, but in a good way, I think. In the New Year, after the last exams and graduation, my husband and I ran away to the Adriatic (Croatia and Montenegro) for three weeks, taking a much needed time-out from the work/school/family stresses that had accumulated over the last couple of years. Now we're back and I am enjoying a brief hiatus; I begin my new career in mid-March and am being determinedly unemployed for the duration. Time enough to read, knit, quilt, sew, sleep, game and remember the pleasures aside from writing just the right piece of code.

I've fallen out of the habit of seeing everything in third person, perfectly formatted for sharing in this venue. Whether this habit will return as my new life coalesces around me remains to be seen. I miss you, my global sounding board, strangers and friends alike; I trust our dance is not yet done.

A Morning's Meditation

2010-09-15T14:03:00.004-04:00

The background noise in my life has risen to deafening heights over the last few months. It's been such a slow progression, I didn't consciously notice, but over the last two weeks I couldn't ignore it anymore. Family, stepdaughters, school, work and other forces added to the general din until I could barely think.

I have no school classes on Wednesdays, so decided to treat myself to some yoga. A year or so ago I was going to yoga two or three times a week, but it eventually caused me pain in my hips so I quit. (I'm an all-or-nothing kinda gal; the thought of simply scaling back didn't occur to me at the time.) This morning, though, it seemed the right thing to do, and truth be told, the studio had beckoned me for some time.

It wasn't the right thing to do; it was the perfect thing to do. I turned off the smartphone that had only added to my interior noise, slipped off my shoes, unrolled my mat, and spent some precious time just being in my body. Stretching. Breathing. Being. During the final meditation, the savasana, I silently cried, so delighted to have connected with my self and my soul in such a vital manner. I felt washed clean and ready for the day.

I can see a great deal of yoga in my future as I seek balance and peace in the eye of the hurricane.

Looking Ahead

2010-08-07T22:35:00.003-04:00

The end of my second work-term is coming up very quickly. It's funny how the first term seemed like it was a year long, 'cause I was kinda bored and frankly under-utilized. This second term I had a super-cool development project to work on that immersed me completely every day... it seems like I've only been there a couple of weeks but sure enough, they were both four-month terms. I leave my current employer with regret, but enough seeds have been planted that I can reasonably hope to find employment there again after graduation.

My semester this fall looks pretty dreamy... I don't have classes on Mondays or Wednesdays, I only have classes Tues and Fri morning and Thurs afternoon. Although on paper that time looks "free" I know I'll be working my tail off: this is our project semester and it might get very hairy. However, I've been hand-picked as a member of a coding "dream team", so that might soften the blow a little... having skilled coders at your side is always a plus for the project.

Aside from the project course, I have Data Communications and Networking, C++ and Advanced Database Topics. I ordered my textbooks already and can't wait to dive in. Is it wrong to love school this much?

It is my intent to take a couple of months off after grad, particularly if I nail down a job early. I'd love to take a month and rent an apartment in some warm (Mediterranean?) country, and soak in the local ambiance, eat myself silly and bask in the non-freezing weather. I'm undecided as to where I might travel, and I throw this out to my wise readers. Where might be a great place to bide a month in the middle of the brutal Canadian winter? Does anyone know anyone who has a cheap apartment/timeshare/condo somewhere warm and not American?

Today, In the Garden

2010-07-21T19:40:00.008-04:00

Dinner on the patio was perfect this evening; the weather complied beautifully and I had a wonderfully mindless book to indulge in while I ate. The breeze was gentle, yet the movement of a single hair on my arm made me look down.

There, perched on legs seemingly finer than my hair, was a tiny baby spider. All gawky, spindled legs and hardly any body to speak of, he flew in on the breeze and landed on my arm. Curious, I watched as he did a cursory exploration of the moonscape of my arm. After seconds, it stood still and raised his tiny body away from his legs and into the wind. Although I couldn't see the silk, he was exuding his next parachute. Sure enough, soon he achieved lift and rose from my arm.

The gently breeze caught the silk thrown to it and lifted the little spider above the fence in seconds. I watched him until he was invisible to me.

That tiny little spider, who had a body about as long as the points of three pins lined up and a brain correspondingly small, had landed in an environment that was hostile to its growth. It sussed that out in 10 seconds flat, and literally threw his body to the wind and God, trusting that a softer, more hospitable landing lay somewhere within his reach.

How can a tiny baby spider already know what we humans spend our whole lives trying to understand?

Systems Check

2010-06-25T17:14:00.001-04:00

Sitting here in a coffee-shop, ripping out a couple of inches of crap-tastic sock (too tight across the arch) and not enjoying the process. Jaywalker pattern, should be easy but I have flubbed it up enough for three socks worth of knitting. So I thought I'd try mobile blogging, and get some swype practice while at it. Much quicker with swype than with piddly hunt and peck touch keyboard...this is the future of input, my friend. Dance class in an hour, just waiting for hubby to appear and make my heart race as always. :)

(tried to add an image but go figure, my Google phone wants me to use Picasa and I'm a Flickr kind of gal.There's probably a work-around but I can't be bothered at the moment...will upload at home.)

From the Society Desk

2010-06-12T15:30:00.003-04:00

In an unexpected move, Ms. Geek Muffin of Ottawa, ON, formerly of Vancouver, BC, married Nexus One in a secret ceremony this week. It was known that she currently was engaged in a relationship with Nokia barphone, but close friends and family knew that she secretly lusted for the sleek Motorola Milestone. Interestingly, Nexus is the faster, more full-featured big brother of Milestone. Says one source in the family, "I guess it makes sense. When she decided to throw away her 7-year relationship with Nokia, she decided to go big or go home."

In mourning about the shocking decision are Ms. Muffin's MP3 player, camera and travel alarm clock, to say nothing of Nokia, saying "She doesn't need us anymore, now that she has Nexus." The laptop is taking it slightly better as his position in her life is assured, but acknowledges that plans for a GPS in her life are now highly unlikely.

Ms. Geek Muffin is unavailable for comment at this time, as she is busy compulsively clicking on the courier website, tracking the location of Nexus, who is expected to arrive early this week from his home at Google Headquarters.

Dress Up

2010-06-05T13:03:00.003-04:00

If you know me well at all, you'll know that I have a thing with clothes. I have a saying, "Every day is a dress-up day" and I live by it. I am notoriously over-dressed for every occasion, rarely ever in pants, and never wear the same outfit twice in a month. My closet is enormous, a walk-in of epic proportion; big enough to be a bedroom in a smaller house. The size of that closet was a major selling point of this home.

I don't actually spend a lot of money annually on clothes, though; perhaps $300 a year on average. That's because I indulge my guilty pleasure through frequent crawls in Value Village. Two or three times a year I go, spend perhaps $80 or $100 and walk away with several new outfits and separates. I love second-hand clothing; it's cheap and you never really know what you'll come away with.

My big find this time was a spectacular dress. It reminds me of something Audrey Hepburn might wear in Breakfast at Tiffany's, or a little bit of Jackie O... check this out.

There's not a single crystal missing on the collar and sleeve edging, it fits like a glove and was painstakingly made by hand by someone. All I need are long royal blue gloves and a little hat to perfect this dress... and an invitation to high tea somewhere for the opportunity to wear it. :)

All that for $14. Can't beat that!

Stash Enhancement

2010-04-20T19:00:00.005-04:00

It was time to bring my sewing machine in for annual maintenance, and fortunately, my girlfriend Lisa's was due, too. We made a date to drive to the Pfaff dealer in Arnprior on Saturday to drop them off. Sure, there's a Pfaff dealer in Ottawa, but I wasn't impressed last time I took my machine there for maintenance and now prefer to go elsewhere. Besides, my sister-in-law's mother works at the quilt shop in Arnprior... that doesn't entitle me to discounts, sadly, but the company is good.

I have a load of fat quarters in stash and was determined to walk out empty-handed, and it almost worked. Then, I saw the bolt of fabric that was made with me in mind, and the next thing you know I was juggling co-ordinates and trying to figure out exactly what to do with the beautiful stuff. Here's what I added to stash that day, despite my best intentions:

That center green one is the one that I lost my composure over. It's orange and green and leafy and so very me.

See? I was doomed. Now to find a project to showcase it in.

Sunday Outing in the Park

2010-04-12T20:07:00.003-04:00

A couple of years ago I made a promise to myself to get out more and explore. Ottawa and area is huge and diverse and I've only seen the smallest fraction of what it has to offer. Strangely, though, the Plan Fairy didn't come and hand me a schedule of events, so I never did do much. After some time spent thinking this over, I began to realize that if anything was to happen, I needed to make it happen. Accordingly, I informed my husband that we were going to go hiking in Gatineau Park on the weekend. (Four years in the NCR and I've never been there. That's flippin' shameful.)

My stepdaughters were with us that weekend, and they were less than impressed when my husband shared my big plans with them. Nonplussed, I went to the store the evening before and bought the makings of deli bun-wiches and a box of Pop-Tarts. (I love 'em but I only eat one every half a year or so on Special Occasions. Everyone in the house loves them, too, and was completely freaked out that I love them too and bought them. Also surprising is the fact that all four of us adore strawberry... I think this is the only thing that all four of us agree on.) We made our sandwiches after breakfast on Sunday, packed a couple of backpacks with munchies and thermoses of hot tea, and set out for our big adventure.

The park wasn't as green as I thought it might be, and was a little disappointed at first, but careful attention revealed signs of spring everywhere.

We also had the pleasure of watching a lovely red-headed woodpecker rat-a-tat-tat on a tree for a spell...

We were searching for the Waterfall Trail, but due in part to The World's Worst Trail Map (that we actually paid $5 for at the visitor's center) and the complete lack of signage in the area we were at, we didn't find a waterfall at all. However, we did run across the ruins in the Mackenzie King estate... which were really just as picturesque.

We walked for hours, poked around the woods, admired flowers and kidded around. We sat on a toppled birch tree and ate when we were hungry, enjoying our lunch and its treats, and the hot tea warmed our cold fingers. We got lost a little, thanks again to the utterly useless map, but found our way to the car eventually, tired, wind-burnt and happy. The girls talked eagerly of future trips camping and canoeing, and my husband and I smiled at each other, remembering the surly attitude with which they greeted our trip. The day was a total success.

First In, Last Out

2010-04-04T13:51:00.003-04:00

I took my last picture of poppies on 4 Dec. The next day a killing frost took them out.

This morning, I took these photos:

Within the week, I will again have poppies in my garden. Rebirth!

Have a fabulous long weekend.

Liquid Gold

2010-03-21T13:07:00.006-04:00

One of my husband's elder brothers owns several hundred acres of bush west of the city. Three of the brothers, my husband included, use this property communally; they go out there and do man things together, bonding over the smell of woodsmoke, man-sweat, and DEET.

That property gives us many things. The three, hunters all, go up in November to hunt deer, so our freezer is invariably full of venison. I'm iffy on the idea of eating Bambi, but free meat is free meat, so I've found recipes that let me (and my step-daughters) pretend that Bambi is actually Bessie.

In an effort to attract more deer to the property, the brother who owns it plants turnips, beets and other deer favourites. Sometimes in the fall, these veggies find their way into our house and grace our table, sometimes even beside a deer, er, cow, that they were intended to lure.

My favourite gift of that land comes in this time of year: maple syrup. In pictures:

The sap was flowing so quickly that after the tree was drilled, its side was soon soaked.

A fantastic shot by my husband, capturing a single sap droplet falling. I confess to drinking straight from the bucket... the sap is cold and refreshing, and only very slightly sweet.

After only two hours, there was a good 2" of sap collected.

There's a collection of older metal pails as well as the newer plastic ones. All in all, they have about 80 trees tapped; not enough for commercial purposes but enough to keep most of the family in syrup for the entire year.

The trees aren't on lines, so collection is manual. The snow was still deep so it was good wet fun slogging up to the buckets and back.

The wood-fired boiler, hard at work. Man, is it hot in that hut.

Knitting while waiting for the day's boil to complete...

Enjoying an unseasonably warm winter day and a campfire.

Another awesome shot by my husband.

The finished product... many liters of sap later. It is sooo good!

Ooops! Boiled too far... a tasty mistake.

You Can Pick Your Friends, But...

2010-02-18T17:59:00.005-05:00

DH and I don't fight often, but when we do, ten chances to one, it's about his daughters. Last night in the heat of an exchange, he said something to me that really stunned me. He said, in frustration, "You treat your friends better than you treat your family" (by family, meaning his daughters.)

Um. Well, yeah. Of course I do. My friends are my friends precisely because we're compatible. I like and respect my friends, otherwise they wouldn't be my friends.

As for family, the only member of my family I get to choose is my husband. Everyone else, from my brothers and sisters to aunts, step-daughters and in-laws, I inherit as part of the package deal. I don't subscribe to the notion that you have to like everyone in your family just because you have some genes or other tenuous connection in common. I believe that every individual needs to prove their worth... not necessarily their worth to me, but their worth as a person in general. They need to demonstrate traits that I find admirable before I like them; they need to do something worthy of my respect before I respect them. TANSTAAFL.

The fact that I hold each individual responsible for their own worth should be no surprise to my husband; for many years my adoptive brother and I have been distant; I disapproved of his lack of direction and purpose and his general fecklessness, though as of late we're getting a little closer as he matures and shows ambition and drive.

Likewise, my step-daughters have (thus far) failed to impress. There was a brief span where they seemed to shed the self-centeredness of childhood and a glimmer of the women they were to become gleamed through. I genuinely enjoyed their company for those few months, and looked forward to the relationship that I saw might be possible. However, then the hormonal tides began and it's been frankly awful since. They are sulky, deceptive, devious, conniving, thieving, vindictive, selfish, whiny, lazy and spoiled rotten... typical young teen girls. I see nothing worth liking or loving about them 90% of the time, and the 10% when they are sweet isn't enough to carry me through.

Perhaps it is asking too much to expect children of 13 and 14 years to be likable. I don't know. What I do know is that we're at a bit of an impasse; my husband expects that I love/like them just because we're "family" and I won't pretend to like them all the time in order to smooth things over.

Take it Easy

2010-02-17T17:13:00.005-05:00

In my first programming class, we had a prof who had been around the block a time or six. He was close to retirement; in fact, ours was the last class he taught. He had started his career as a procedural programmer, which I suppose is a redundant statement, considering that object-oriented (OO) programming wasn't the dominant programming methodology until the mid-1990's, and at a guess, I'd say this prof learned his coding skills in the 70's. Long story short, although he learned OO programming and taught it (some might say with varying success), he was still procedural at heart.

This was exemplified by his choice of development environment. He recommended that we do all of our coding in simple Notepad and execute at the command line. This made sense to us, as we had no other point of reference. This was ironic because our textbook came with a hefty book called "Eclipse Distilled" that looked so intimidating that neither us or the prof touched it (and that was just the condensed version of the book!).

A brief aside for anyone still reading that doesn't know what Eclipse is. It is to programming what MS Word is to word processing. Sure, you can type in text on a blank screen in a pinch. However, context-sensitive help, auto formatting, spell check, thesaurus and a hundred other tools make Word so much more powerful than Notepad. Same goes for programming. Eclipse is your Java on speed. It compiles, outputs, debugs, helps and offers an insane amount of power and control when coding.

It wasn't until towards the end of that first semester that some students explored Eclipse and extolled its virtues to the rest of us. I fought the steep learning curve to develop a deep fondness for Eclipse, and the more I learn about coding and Eclipse itself, the more helpful it is to me. I doubt I'll ever plumb its depths; the full documentation could be substituted for a boat anchor in a pinch.

I am not ashamed to say that I have been spoiled by the power. When given a project to complete at work, I held out until they installed Eclipse and the appropriate plug-in to allow me to use it to program in Perl. Though it is absolutely possible to program Perl in UNIX using vi and the command line... why would you want to? Why would you willingly deprive yourself of the power-tools and use a manual screwdriver and hammer?

Three things I've learned along the way: coders are lazy; laziness is a virtue, and it is the real mother of invention. To borrow an example from the O'Reilly "Learning Perl" book, the wheelbarrow was invented by someone who was too lazy to want to carry heavy loads. IDE's were invented by programmers who loath working in Notepad. Masochists need not apply.

On Risk and Consequence

2010-02-15T17:13:00.007-05:00

Life entails a certain amount of risk. Getting up in the morning increases your chances of dying. Driving is a statistically dangerous activity. Choosing to submit yourself to the forces of gravity and physics while attached to or riding on bits of slippery fiberglass is dangerous. Whizzing around on bits of sharp metal on ice is dangerous. Inhaling a toxic cocktail of nicotine, additives and pollutants is dangerous. Eating food high in sodium and fat is dangerous. Drinking alcohol is dangerous.

Whether we acknowledge it or not, there are risks associated with every single minute of our lives, and with every choice we make. Ignorance of the risks is not acceptable grounds for whining about the consequences if and when they catch up with you. Similarly, feeling that you are invulnerable and above the consequences of your actions does not excuse you from paying the potential price.

Take as an example the young girl who died while skiing at Calabogie a couple of weeks ago. She lost control, hit a tree, and died. Outraged readers in the comments section cried "cut the trees down!" The reason she hit a tree (which are not generally known for hanging around in the middle of ski runs) was because she was going too fast for her abilities and therefore went where she wasn't supposed to.

Another more recent example was the young Georgian luge pilot who lost control and died the day before the Olympics started. The response was to pad the luge run support poles and decrease the length of the overall run. I don't think anyone who saw the video of his death harbours any illusions that hitting a pole, padded or not, at 120-160 kms/hour will result in anything but instant death.

Both of these incidents are sad, no doubt, but utterly preventable... no-one made the child go skiing; no-one made the young man choose luge. And at the end of the day, it wasn't the tree or the ski hill operators or the luge run that were to blame: it was human error and/or hubris.

Sports "accidents" are not what really gets my goat, though. Pursuing exhilaration and glory for sports may not always be the safest thing, but it's somewhat forgivable. No, it's the other idiots that really get me: smokers who get cancer and then whine about how they didn't know it was bad for them. Obese people who try to sue fast food companies for their own inability to make sound nutritional choices. People who sue when their coffee spills and burns them.

Know the risks. Make your choices and accept full personal responsibility for your own actions. If you die from smoking, it's not the government's fault for not making them illegal, it's because you were dumb enough to start in the first place, and sincerely believed that little fairy tale "it won't happen to me". Let me tell you now... you're nothing special. God or fate or destiny doesn't love you more than anyone else, and if you put a gun in your mouth and pull the trigger, the odds are excellent that you'll end up just as dead as anyone else.

But go ahead and try it, anyhow. The world is a little too cramped as it stands, and you'll at least do us all the courtesy of removing your genes from the pool as you excuse yourself. One final favour? Kill yourself quickly with your vices so as to minimize the strain on our health care system. K, thanks, bye.

Co-op Purgatory

2010-01-25T22:24:00.002-05:00

I've been with my Federal Government agency for just over three weeks now, and I have to confess that I am bored stiff.

I suppose I had a bit of an epiphany at some point in time, while I was staring at my monitor, waiting for something to happen. I want a job where the next move is obvious, where the work-flow is continual. Where I don't have to sit there staring at the monitor waiting for some event to bring purpose to my life. Where I don't have to meaninglessly occupy a chair for 8 hours if the job can only be done in 2.

Granted, I don't yet have the knowledge I need to be an effective member of the team. My boss has flatly told me that it's not my job to be efficient, it's my job to learn. It's an awkward position for a Type-A OCD gal like me... do or do not, there is no try. Not being able to give my full potential is galling to me. I know I'll get there, but oooooooh, the learning curve!

It doesn't help that my current reading material is "The Four Hour Work-Week" by Timothy Ferris. He's telling me to work smarter, not harder; that advice does me no good whatsoever in co-op purgatory. I must abide.

I know by the time these four months are done, I will be Queen of my little UNIX domain and I will know enough to be able to complete most, if not all, tasks with ease. It's just the learning curve that irks me. We wants it now!

Another Type of Reveal... Yours!

2010-01-14T16:25:00.004-05:00

It's late in the day, but heck, it's still the 14th. Won't you play my silly game and drop me a quick hello when you read this post, whenever that may be?

graphic by Aimee

The Big Reveal

2010-01-11T20:42:00.003-05:00

Back in October, a dear friend's illness was revealed. I'm never good with these situations... beyond support and well-wishes and prayers as applicable, there's not really much one can *do*, and that drives me wild. If you're in town, you can take her to medical appointments and make dinners... when you're an hour and a half away, not so much. I'm a do-er. I wanted to DO something.

So I did. When the going gets tough, the tough get knitting. Having been a part of two separate hug blanket projects, I knew what to do. I started trawling Velda's blog comments, emailing everyone I could find and asking them if they could knit or crochet or wanted to try to learn real quick. I got in touch with Tammy, who put me in touch with a pile of Velda's friends from the cross-stitch boards. Emails flowed in, and eventually, so did the funkiest, sparkliest collection of purple squares you've ever seen.

I knit like a fiend through November, as did my dear friend Lisa. She'd never met Velda, but any friend of mine was a friend of hers and she cranked out about 9 lovely crochet squares before I could turn around. I encouraged my youngest step-daughter, who was one of V's day-care kids, into practicing her knitting for her beloved friend, and another square (mostly!) was born. Another family friend and knitter saw my step-daughter's knitting, heard the explanation, and immediately hit the needles hard, adding two more lovely squares as a show of support and love for a woman she'd never met. That's what knitters do when there's nothing else we can do.

I sat on the floor of my sewing room and seamed all those pieces together during breaks in exam week. Somehow, through complete chance, I had enough squares to make a blanket the size I desired. Somehow, also through chance and love and fate, all the squares look like they were meant to be a part of this whole.

It was Jan 2 by the time my husband and I could arrange to make our annual Xmas pilgrimage to go visit Velda and family.

Hubby's smirking. He knows what's coming...

This is the closest V got to crying over the gift... which was very surprising! :)

I know she's not admiring my shoddy seaming...

Now that's what a hug is all about.

All the women who schemed with me behind the scenes to make this happen... thank you so much. It would not have happened without you, and means infinitely more to both myself and Velda that you chose to be a part of this.

PS... isn't she gorgeous, Moon Boots and all?! :)

Signs of Life!

2010-01-07T16:17:00.001-05:00

It's a week into the New Year and this is my first post in quite some time, but I won't waste time with a summary of 2009. Or perhaps I will, but it will be short and sweet: study, homework, coding and exams, repeated endlessly in any order. I worked my tail off but it's been more than worth it; finding a career that I love this much is it's own reward. Apparently I'm good at it, too, at least academically. Despite the trials of the last semester, during which I had my doubts if I could make it through intact and sane, I pulled off a high A average and managed my third consecutive semester on the Dean's List. I dream now of graduating with honours...

2010 brings two co-op terms and my final semester of college in Sept. I'm in my first week of my first coop right now, in a slick, shiny, sexy Federal agency in the heart of downtown. (I am in no way being facetious when I say "sexy" and Federal gov't in the same sentence... this place is super-hip.) I have been hired in the capacity of a UNIX system administrator; something that no doubt would cause my UNIX prof to double over in glee... while I did very well in his class, I bitch and moaned continuously through it and failed to see how it was relevant to the Real World. It appears my education is about to begin.

One thing that delights me about the vocation I have chosen is how everything is interconnected. In school, the classes are distinct... Perl, UNIX, Java, SQL, System Design. They seemed in school like separate disciplines that really didn't have many connections. Here, I am learning that I was very wrong. Everything is connected. I may administer UNIX systems but I use PHP and Perl whilst doing so, and am supporting Java development and Oracle databases in the process. The system design principles underlay the continuous upgrades and migrations of the entire IT department. It's a thing of beauty and I expect to receive practical experience in so much more than just UNIX admin in my time here.

My only complaint at this point in time is time itself... from my relaxed student hours and a period of utter hedonism over the Xmas holidays, getting up at oh-dark-thirty is an extremely painful jolt to the system. I get home, have a quick nap and am still utterly exhausted and dream of bedtime. I expect I will acclimatize shortly but right now it's all exhaustion, all the time.

The Final Push

2009-12-10T17:40:00.002-05:00

I'm tired.

I've been in school for a full year now, no summer semester off; just a couple of weeks break between second and third. I am worn to the bone.

I am tired of always having huge assignments looming overhead. Of having the feeling that I ought to be studying even when I'm taking a break. Of waking up in the middle of the night, obsessing about coding assignment details. Of getting screwed over on team coding assignments by team members who lack the same ability/ attention to detail that I have. Of new profs who really have no idea how the system works and give ridiculous exams on material we spent 20 seconds on.

I'm tired of trying just to get assignments done and leave the understanding for later, no time for that now. I'm tired of morons in the back of the classroom who talk all through class and then interrupt the prof to ask a question that he answered two minutes ago but how would they know, because they weren't listening? I'm tired of walking that extra few hundred meters that OC Transpo added to my day when they moved Baseline Station.

Classes are done except for finals: Monday - Thurs next week. Thurs night after our final final I have invited some friends over and we shall celebrate the end of the third semester, two weeks of holidays, and the beginning of our co-op adventures in January. I wish I could be excited about my upcoming opportunity, but, well, I'm too tired to care at the moment.

Can't Prove it By the Poppies

2009-11-10T11:27:00.003-05:00

Here it is, mid-November, but my front garden is seemingly unaware of the fact. These pictures were taken about a half-hour ago.

This is my first year growing poppies and I am utterly charmed by how fragile they appear, yet how hardy they actually are. Every night I sit out on the front stoop for a bit, taking in the air and clearing my head before turning in for the night. There have been nights when the grass was crispy and a cautious poke at the poppy petals revealed them to be frozen solid; as delicate (I would imagine) as a glass potato chip. However, the morning dawns and they raise their cheery little heads and sing once more.

Thank you, God, for poppies. I hope to grow up to be one.

Love Thy Neighbor

2009-11-06T10:29:00.005-05:00

My friend Arzu wrote a really interesting post today. My post is in response to her musings... you should go over and read it, otherwise this post will seem pretty random.

I'm not Christian... I used to be but there were too many loose ends that didn't make sense to me. I don't really know what I am at the moment; I believe God exists in one form or another but I really don't think It cares about us on a personal level.

This being said, I don't think that lessens our calling to care for one another. In the end, God is intangible; we are all we have. I think our highest purposes are found in helping others, in doing what we can to ameliorate someone else's pain.

I also know that I fall short of that standard. A friend, a neighbor recently suffered a death in the family. I found out immediately but could not bring myself to cross the street to console her or to offer my apologies. I was awkward and helpless when it came to facing death in my own family when my father died a couple of years back; I was awkward and helpless when it came to dealing with her loss. Even though I loved her and knew that my silence was hurting her, I could not go over.

I'd like to think that I'd be there if a friend needed me, but in reality, I'd probably be "too busy", or help out but feel put-upon and inconvenienced at the same time. How to reach the selfless spirit that Arzu's friend S demonstrated when the neighbor he barely knew requested his help?

I also know that if the shoe were on the other foot, I would suffer alone and in silence rather than ask anyone for help, thereby inconveniencing them.

I love the idea, the ideal, of community... where we all take care of each other. It seems like such an impossible goal, though. How do we get there from here?

In My Brother's Shadow

2009-11-04T22:20:00.004-05:00

As a child, I lived under different rules than my older brother. Jim was allowed freedoms I never enjoyed; stayed out late with his friends, went places I wasn't allowed to go, did things I wasn't allowed to do. At the time, I chalked it up to my parents learning from their mistakes; my brother was permitted much and was a constant social, legal and academic disaster; the way I saw it, they would never allow me the latitude to make the same mistakes. I thought it rather unfair, as I was a very different person than my brother, but of course completely at the mercy of my parents until I moved out from under their control at 17.

I developed into a strongly responsible and motivated woman, while my brother smoked dope with his friends and lived at home with my parents until his early 30's. I managed a store and joined the Army while he worked as a seasonal labourer in silvaculture and drew unemployment all winter. He has been, until very recently, purposeless and without ambition.

It was within the last decade that I realized that I was, and would always be, second best. No matter what I did, he would always come first to them. My victories, my medals, my awards, my commendations would be politely applauded and then put underneath the scanty pile of his achievements. Every success I have, every mountain I climb, I call up my mother, excited to tell her, thinking that maybe at last I will have won her affections. I tell her and she makes the appropriate happy noises, and then tells me that she has to go because she's expecting my brother to come by. She sees him every day but his visits always trump our phone calls.

I know that there's absolutely nothing I can do to change the dynamics in this relationship but it pisses me off and breaks my heart every time I get shelved for him. It probably always will.

9 Weeks Down, 6 To Go

2009-11-04T10:19:00.004-05:00

I'm closer now to the end of the semester than the beginning. It's been a rough go; two profs are giving us massive assignments on the assumption that a) we know more than we do; and b) we have all the time in the world to work on them. Either one of those assignments was enough to make me weep, and trying to excel at both at the same time had me considering dropping a course. All I can say is that I'm glad the Student Success Specialist took the week off that she did, because I'd be down a course right now.

Both of the assignments are finished, one to perfection, the other a bit short of that mark, and breathing room has been gained. I think I can make it to the end now with a full course-load intact.

I also get the sneaking suspicion that this is like the punchline from that old adage "if you're not scared you're not paying attention." There's another (group) assignment on the go now, which I think will get quite nasty towards due date. We'll see.

I accepted an offer for my first co-op work term. I had originally thought that working for RIM might be my optimal co-op job, until I saw the other placement. As sexy and cool and hip as RIM is, I think this tops it (inasmuch as it is possible for a Federal Government department to be sexy, cool and hip.) I applied on Monday, was told on Tuesday that I had an interview on Thursday at 1330, and I had been offered and accepted the job by 1600 Thurs. These people waste no time.

It will be a challenging job, no doubt;I'll be doing largely UNIX based coding, which I am good at but by no means an expert. I feel that it will benefit my career arc as a whole to sharpen these skills, so I'm up for the challenge. I'm really quite excited about working there for my first term, and I think I have something else interesting nailed down for the second work term.

I usually have a lab on Wednesdays, but it's in Web Programming, and our Prof has switched to electronic assignments rather than checking them in lab. This means that I essentially have the day off... okay, not off, exactly. It means that I can do schoolwork at home in my PJ's. (yay!)

Off to make a pot of tea and plow through a few hours of coding goodness. I hope November's treating you well thus far.

In Sheep's Clothing

2009-10-21T22:21:00.006-04:00

This one's for all my fellow fiberphiles.

This is a simply beautiful bride photo, no? Check out that dress.

Wait a minute. Notice a certain resemblance between the dress and the bride's companion?

You're right. Glory of glory, a wedding dress made of fleece.

Click on the picture to admire other lovely photos of it (and her) and read the story behind her amazing gown and how her and her husband met. No matter what's wrong in your world, you'll feel a little better after you read it, I swear.

I Love a Challenge.

2009-10-18T22:51:00.004-04:00

Mum Linda and I compared notes last weekend, and realized we were both out of steam in our work-out routines. Seeing how she's in Lacombe and I'm in Ottawa, you wouldn't think there'd be much we could do to motivate each other, but with a little bit of scheming, we came up with a plan to keep us honest and engaged in our work-out routine.

Between the two of us, we agreed that our ideal week was comprised of 180 minutes of cardio in whatever form we desired, 120 minutes of strength-training, and an hour of yoga. We also agreed to cut the "whites" out from Sunday to Thursday... no white flour, pasta, rice, or sugar. Friday evening and all day Saturday are "within limits" treat days. Red wine is unlimited, with the caveat that for each glass, we perform 100 crunches or equivalent ab exercises.

Last week was technically the first week of the challenge, but it was messed up due to Thanksgiving, and besides was absolutely a horrible week for me on almost every level... evil school assignments/exams met up with personal turmoil etc etc. It was not the week to begin such a serious undertaking... much therapeutic eating was required, and schoolwork left not much time for heading out to the gym.

However. It's Sunday night of a new week and I declare the games open. I took some time tonight and set up a mini-gym in the basement.

Although my "real gym" is only a five-minute walk away, I need to change, don winter clothes etc etc... a simple 20-minute cardio break during studies becomes an hour-long event when I have to leave the house. This looks like a much better option, and it also buys me guilt-free TV time!

I can now watch Glee and Grey's Anatomy while virtuously working out. I love me some multi-tasking.

The Philosophy of Loss

2009-10-15T23:07:00.003-04:00

A dear friend, persistent commenter, and in fact the reason that this whole blog even exists has just been handed a death sentence: lung cancer, with multiple mets to the brain.

Although we're a part of each others' daily online lives on Facebook and through our blogs, we've only seen each other twice in the three years since we moved to Ottawa from Kingston. That's actually an improvement... when we were in Kingston, we really didn't know each other at all, just *of* each other; my husband being the common link. (She was his daughters' day-care provider for many years.) It doesn't matter, though. We've found that face-time is nice but the lack of it doesn't stunt a friendship from growing.

And now, she's been given 4-12 months to live, and I can't think of much else these days. It feels so unfair... she's so young, so big-hearted, and beloved of so many. I suppose it's a reminder that it's all so very random. I am so sorry, Miss V.

Whatever has happened to anyone else
Could happen to you & to me
And the end of my youth was the possible truth
That it all happens randomly.

~Indigo Girls, The Philosophy of Loss

I Take It Back

2009-10-08T15:46:00.003-04:00

As compared to the first two semesters, this one started slowly. The first few weeks trickled past, and there was a little homework, but nothing to make me wish I could knit time, as happened in the first two terms. The words "This is going to be a light semester!" may have crossed my lips.

I know not what vengeful homework god I pissed off when I said that, but I'm really, really sorry and I'd like to know what I can do to make it right. You see, I only have 24 hours in the day, and by the time I get the lab and assignment and study for that little midterm in web programming, read 300 pages in that utterly bone-dry Systems Analysis textbook and study for that exam, read 100 pages of online design papers and design a coffee machine in Java (I kid you not), and finally code a massively complex (or so it seems to me now) and completely unintelligible application in C#.... well, you see, there's not a lot of time for the little pleasures in life. Like sleeping. Or enjoying a stable, balanced mind.

Which I don't have at the moment so it's just as well I have no time to enjoy it.

Anyhow. You get the point. I profusely apologize for the sin of hubris. Not that it will make much of a difference, because I can't be un-smoted... unsmitten?... but I have been properly put in my humble meek place again. Thanks for the helpful reminder.

Daddy Issues

2009-09-28T00:12:00.005-04:00

I envy and hate my step-daughters.

Not for their age and potential. Not for all the money in this week's lotto jackpot would I subject myself to the vagaries of being a young hormone-ridden teen girl-child, and as far as potential, well, I don't think the life I carved for myself lacks in any aspect. I've done what I set out to do and I have no regrets about my trajectory.

Instead, I envy them the loving, doting father they possess; my husband. I envy them his presence in their lives, his active interest in all they do, and his obvious love and concern for them. I envy how he spoils them rotten with attention and material goods. I envy them the chance they have to express their love and thankfulness for all he does.

I hate them for their uncomprehending reception of his largess. They accept his love and attention and gifts and devotion to their well-being as if it simply is their due, and no thanks is required. They have no idea of the sacrifices and care he takes on their behalf, and if they knew they wouldn't care. It's simply his job, you see. I hate them because they won't realize what an amazing man their father is until they're much older, and maybe he won't be around for them to tell him how they appreciate him. I hate them for the words that may remain unsaid; that should never remain unsaid.

I hate them because they're me at that age, and I hate myself for not saying what I should have to my father before he died. I always thought there'd be more time... more time to get to know the man he was; more time to tell him what he meant to me. I hate them because they don't understand what a wonderful life he's given them. They've never known want, or pain, or hunger, yet they think their spoiled little self-obsessed lives are sooo hard. I hate that they let him slave on behind the scenes in complete self-abnegation, without recognition, aside from the occasional kiss on the cheek.

Somehow, for him, this is enough. Not being a parent, I don't understand how it can be, but he is content and is quite puzzled at my indignation on his behalf. I can only hope that my own father took his own kisses on the cheek as payment in full for all his efforts on my behalf.

All She Wants To Do is Knit

2009-09-27T17:55:00.002-04:00

You probably didn't know it, but August was the Month of Noro, at least in my world. That entrelac scarf I began for my mother-in-law charmed me so much that I marched to the yarn store for more Noro for another scarf.

These have been done for a short while now; actually long enough that I got to show them off at this month's knitting guild! These are the first things I've knit that I felt good enough to show off in public. This weekend I finally got around to blocking them, so I thought I'd show them off while they're on the wires, and then maybe get other pics of them in use.

The one I made for my MIL:

The scarf I made for myself:

Side by each:

The "bonus" hat I made, reclining (blocking) gracefully in a soccer-ball:

I soaked the knit-wear in hair conditioner for a half-hour before I soaked it in... well, Soak. Noro's eye-sizzling colours come with a price: the yarn is as disappointing to the fingers as it is pleasing to the eyes. For a wook-silk-mohair blend, it isn't as soft as it should be, so I'm trying to encourage the yarn to bloom. I'll know when it's dry if it worked or not.

I am determined to clean my WIP pile before I cast on something new. I need a fresh start, and rather than burning a pile of aborted and defective knitwear on the rear lawn, I've decided to wade in and finish what I've started. For instance, I've pulled the cuff off a pair of socks that I knit for hubby; the top ribbing became rather floppy and needed a cuff re-do, so that's my travelling project at the moment. At home, I've finished one sleeve of the long-suffering Rainbow cardigan and have begun the second sleeve. I'm also re-knitting the angora liner for mum's mittens; they felted horribly last winter so I'm re-knitting them a third larger, pre-felting them and sewing them in. They need to be to her soon, as winter is soon to close on Alberta (not to mention the rest of us.)

The burning desire to cast on something new and pretty should keep me sufficiently motivated to burn through my WIP's, at least for a while. :)

Crisis Averted

2009-09-24T17:10:00.003-04:00

I have a crisis of confidence every semester. I know (to the point of arrogance, perhaps) that I'm smart enough to handle anything that comes at me, yet in Week Two when we're given our first significant assignment in a new programming language, I panic. I flip wildly through textbooks, Google twenty related topics, email friends, click through menus, and generally have a little melt-down. "THIS language will do me in. I'm really not smart enough to be a programmer and this moment is proof!" moans my internal wimp.

Then I get frightened, and determined. I make a pot of coffee, fix some snacks, do a little knitting to clear my head, and sit down and tackle it again, banishing that negative voice in my head. Failure is not an option; giving up even less so. Hours pass, my shoulders and neck and wrists ache, but I have written something that, while not perfect, gives me hope.

I ask a friend in class about some issues still remaining, and he points to an innocuous line of code and says "Why is that there?". I comment it out, and suddenly my major issues are solved. I don't know whether to laugh or cry, but I feel as if I'm slowly climbing on top of the language.

Then in class, the prof stops by my laptop to answer a question I have, and comments that I'm doing everything right and this is what he wants to see. I know then that the panic and fear was unfounded and that this is not the language that will finish me. Yes, it will be hard. Yes, I will stay up late and code early and obsess about it, but knowledge will reward those who earnestly seek it. C# shall be mine.

PS... I'm looking for interesting co-op opportunities for the winter and summer semesters, Jan-Aug. Do you know of any companies that could use some cheap programming for the duration? Especially in the tropics? *grins*

On The Run Again

2009-09-14T09:21:00.003-04:00

My first week of classes is over and I'm hyped about the new semester. I have four core programming courses: Object Oriented Programming II (Java), Systems Analysis and Design, Web Programming (HTML, CSS, Perl, PHP, Javascript) and Graphical User Interface Programming (C#), as well as an elective (Wine, Food and Culture... tough gig, no?) and an hour a week for Co-op prep, as our co-op work terms will begin in January. I already love all my classes and I think I have truly wonderful profs in all of them.

I finished my homework on Saturday and had the luxury of spending Sunday in the sewing room, finishing two blocks of "Storybook Farm", Room to Breeze and Wooly Good Friends. This quilt is cuteness epitomized... the tiny little quilt on the clothesline is actually a real quilt, made separately, machine quilted and then pinned on the clothesline with wee clothespins. Pics to come!

I also finished knitting a hat and scarf set in Noro. Again, pics on the way after blocking. I am working my way though my "ugh" knitting pile before I will allow myself to cast on something new... perhaps this, or maybe this? I certainly need to cast on a sock for easy school knitting.

Now that DH is all officerized, he's away on course until February, but not so far away that he can't come home on weekends. The house is rather quiet, which makes for excellent studying, but the kitties and I miss him.

Just Rewards

2009-09-04T17:37:00.004-04:00

From the utterly trivial to matters most important. Today at a rather informal BBQ, my husband received his commission. As a nod to the fact that the wife is always the higher rank in a relationship (!), I got the task of actually putting his new rank up.

My husband, who is usually so composed, was noticeably jittery this morning. It was kinda cute, but I wasn't surprised. It's the biggest career move for him since he joined the military 22 years ago. I am so proud of him for having the guts to make such a major change at a point in his career when it would be so easy to just ride it out until quittin' time.

Wayne with two of his proud girls; myself and daughter H.

Where he's come from, and where he is. Where he (and by extension, we) are going is a big mystery now that we're stepped into the whirlwind, but I am his biggest fan and we can handle whatever comes.

Do You Want To Date My Avatar?

2009-09-03T10:21:00.004-04:00

If you've been around for five minutes or so, you'll know that in my down time I am Aishaii, hammer warrior, Legendary Cartographer, and soon to be Elona Vanquisher and Holy Lightbringer. I also roam around as Puck, a hot necromancer, but I'm concentrating on getting my titles for Aishaii.

Most of you are probably going "WFT?" about now. It's okay not to know what I'm talking about. You see, I'm addicted to Guild Wars, an MMORPG. As a female programmer and avid gamer, this makes me uniquely geeky.

Then, I found this through a contact in my guild.

Aaaah. My love of gaming and alternate reality set to a catchy pop beat by a hot girl who is WAY nerdier than I am (check out her education!). I have a new heroine. :)

Mum and Grandma Come to the Big City

2009-08-31T19:28:00.004-04:00

I got home from Ste. Anne's at 1600 Weds, went for two hours of dance lessons with hubby followed by dinner at the Keg and then straight to the airport to pick up my mum and grandma. From utter relaxation to pandemonium in one smooth step.

They're not usually high-maintenance people, but I got the distinct impression that I was staff in the house while they were here. They sat and reminisced about dead people they used to know while I cooked, cleaned, tidied and chauffeured them around to fun places in the area. It was exhausting but fun.

We cruised the 1000 Islands, lapping Boldt Castle since Mum and Grandma didn't have passports so couldn't we go land.

We went to Rideau Hall and toured the GG's residence and came out feeling very patriotic at the end, and a little giddy that we had walked in the footsteps of Presidents and Queens.

We toured show homes, a time-honoured family tradition when visiting out-of-towners. And finally, I treated mum and grandma to their first-ever spa pedicure, which they both pronounced divine.

It was a busy six days, and it went by in a flash. Now they're gone and I can begin my real holiday.

Anna Karenina

2009-08-27T13:28:00.003-04:00

It is finished, signed, admired, and given away. The colours and size were dictated by it's recipient, my adoptive mother; all else was left to my whimsy. The name was dictated by the audio book I listened to it as I sewed it up.

Draped artistically over the shed... (don't ask.)

The "B" side:

On the bed:

Mum laid down to have a nap under the quilt the day I gave it to her, but she got too busy admiring the stitching to sleep. I'll take that as the best compliment I could receive.

It Is Finished!

2009-08-15T21:51:00.002-04:00

Six courses, five finals, five days. Holy crap, it was a stressful week. However, it's all over now for a precious three weeks. I should know my marks next week... although I recognize it's completely arbitrary, I fought like hell to stay on the Dean's List. Time will tell. I should know that in mid to late Sept.

"Finished" not only refers to my mental state, but Mum's quilt. 3 hours in the sewing room saw the border put sewn on and down and the quilt signed and named. "Anna Karenina" will show up on the blog soon for your viewing pleasure.

And now, tomorrow comes my reward... four days, three nights at Ste. Anne's. No laptop, no coding, no stress... just good books, good music, good knitting, wine, food, pampering and relaxation. Bring it on.

See you next week!

Earthdancer Comes Home

2009-08-14T18:04:00.002-04:00

After literally years of waiting to be framed, Earthdancer is done up right and on the wall. She is spectacular!

Close-ups of the piece and framing:

And on the wall.

She's perfect, and has been well worth the wait. I had her framed at the Framing and Art Center on Merivale, and I am well pleased with their services. Now that Cross-Stitch Cupboard is closed, it's nice to know there's a good option for needlework framing.

(I've since pulled off that ridiculous light-switch cover (who puts a switch in the freakin' middle of a feature wall, anyhow?) and painted it to match the wall so it won't be so obtrusive.)

When The Stars Fall

2009-08-13T11:44:00.006-04:00

I had heard on CBC radio that there was to be a meteor shower last night. Despite my good intentions to remember and perhaps drive out to the country to watch it, I didn't remember until it was late and I was performing my nightly ritual of checking that all the doors and windows were locked for the night before I went to bed. Not sure if it was even clear enough to see anything, I cupped my hands against the cool glass of the back yard's sliding door and peered out.

I was immediately rewarded with the blaze of a shooting star across the sky. Excited that it was still going on and conditions were clear, I raced around downstairs, finishing my "security" rounds, turning off lights and grabbing a blanket from the couch. I eased out of the screen door, careful not to let a very disappointed Ginger-cat squirt out into the night air with me.

The grass was cool and dew-wet. I wrapped myself in the blanket, more for protection from the whining mosquitoes than anything, and lay back on the grass, looking expectantly up. For long moments, there was a good deal of nothing in the sky, and annoyed by the mosquitoes pestering my face, I almost went inside immediately.

Then I laughed at myself. Here I am, positioned to watch one of the great natural wonders of the universe, and I want it delivered to me like a Fox news soundbite... condensed into 30 seconds or less, thank-you-very-much, so that I can return to my self-obsessed life as regularly scheduled. The guest on CBC said that the light from these meteors burning reaches us 43 minutes after they have already expired in the atmosphere... the least I can do is grant these celestial travellers more than a minute of my time. I laid back in the grass, now a little more stoic about the insects and dampness. I breathed in the cooling air, redolent of smells from my garden; there a touch of wet garlic; here a waft of cilantro.

I was soon rewarded with a magical streak of light that travelled directly above me. More time passed, and then another graced my vision. Time slowed, the mosquitoes seemed to disappear, and I existed simply to watch the night sky; the thrill of witnessing the meteors had me in a spell. I made deals with myself that I'll wait until I see one more, and then I'll go in... but that one more was always so incredible it kept me there for just one more again.

Finally, after witnessing 8 or 9 meteors, I saw one so bright and glorious that I involuntarily sucked in my breath in awe as it raced across the sky. A shiver went down my spine, tears came to my eyes, and I knew that it was the one I had been waiting to see. Slowly, reluctantly, but concious of the lateness of the hour and my upcoming exam in the morning, I got to my feet and went inside. As I closed the patio door, I saw one last shooting star streak the sky, as if a wave goodbye. Though I peered out windows intently as I readied myself for bed, I saw no more.

A New Flame

2009-08-12T12:20:00.003-04:00

I've long meant to make a scarf for Wayne's mother, and it made it's way to the top of my knitting queue last week. The scarf would teach me a new technique, entrelac, which has a reputation in knitting circles as fiddly, complicated, and tedious. Be that as it may, entrelac done with a scrumptious variegated yarn has the potential to be outstanding, and I decided to make my first foray into this technique with some luscious Noro Silk Garden, a silk-mohair-wool blend from Japan that comes in simply amazing colours. I chose a colourway that I thought Wayne's mum would like, and began.

...And haven't stopped since. I'm almost 3/4 of the way through the scarf, despite exams, despite studying, despite everything. Prying the needles out of my hands just isn't going to happen any time soon. Not only does the technique entrance me, but the colours (oh the colours!) and the overall finished product amaze me.

Isn't that just about the cleverest thing ever??! I'd be totally in love with this project, but the colours aren't *me*... I am making it for my mother-in-law, after all. However, I think I shall achieve scarf perfection with this...

...don't you? (Yes, I fell into Wool-Tyme on my way home... I needed holiday knitting!)

Hello, Stinking Rose

2009-08-11T14:19:00.003-04:00

Last time we checked in on momma's little garlic patch, we saw this:

That was in mid-June. This is what the same patch looks like today:

However, this is my basement:

I harvested just over 100 bulbs of beautiful garlic last week; half-and-half Siberian and Fireball. I lost a few to sheer wetness; the stems rotted through in some plants; but I harvested well over 90% of what I planted. I think those are pretty good numbers.

Not that I wasn't worried. A strange pest killed off my chives last year, and I thought nothing of it until it returned again this year, and started abusing my garlic, too. I identified it as onion maggot, and mentally kissed my garlic patch goodbye- the maggots are unstoppable through any means of control and will overwinter in the soil for two years. I was just hoping to save some out of this harvest.

It turns out I was alarming myself more than necessary. I headed out to the Carp Garlic Festival last weekend to chat with the experts, and the very-helpful Dave from Ashton Station Garlic showed me that my problem was leek moths and not that serious in the grand scheme of things... yes, they'll come back next year, but they can be controlled through various means and rarely harm the bulb itself, just the leaves. Relieved and overjoyed that I could plant another crop next year, I bought some organic garlic from him in a variety of... varieties, so that I may plant my favourites in the fall. I will also probably use some of the crop I just harvested as seed.

For those who are wondering what on earth I'll do with that much garlic. Well, at last year's festival, I bought about 50 bulbs, and as of today, this is what I have left:

We plow through the stuff like there's no tomorrow... roasted, baked, fried, raw, minced, grated, sliced... if we're serving something savoury in the house, odds are pretty good it's got (loads of) garlic in it. However, I might still have lots left over, providing it all stores well... the damp harvest conditions had me worried and a few of the bulbs showed early mould. I think we'll be fine now, though.

If you've never been out to the Carp Garlic Festival, or tried garlic that isn't from the supermarket, I strongly urge you to roam out there. It's open for a final day this Saturday, and is a beautiful drive and a fun outing. You may never look at garlic the same again.

Gloves and Gardens (and socks, too)

2009-08-03T14:52:00.003-04:00

DH and I have been watching Tin Man over the last couple of days, so I've snuck in some quality knitting time and actually finished two projects.

These wretchedly colourful socks are made from the Harlot's basic sock recipe, out of some funky Opal yarn that a girlfriend brought back as a souvenir from Europe for me.

These are Nereid fingerless gloves, round two, for Momma Linda. They're made from Estelle Arequipa that was left over from my Whisper Cardi. If you think the colour balance in this photo is a little wonky because my skin looks orange, you're not wrong... I henna'd my hair again a couple of days ago without gloves, and my hands look like I lost a fight in a carrot factory.

Some glorious shots of my garden, sans knitwear. Hope your long weekend is going swimmingly!

Holy Mole-y!

2009-08-02T12:02:00.005-04:00

I keep a couple of bird feeders in the back yard. Not only am I trying to court some bird wildlife into strip-mined suburbia, but it's good entertainment both for myself and the cats. They love watching "TV" out the window; the fat mourning doves drive them insane.

A side-effect of the hand-out of free grain is, of course, rodent life; which the cats find equally amusing. There's something small and furry which lives somewhere in the yard; it scampers along the fence-line and drives Ginger-cat insane and keeps her staring intently at the tall grass for hours. Earlier this week she managed to get her paw in the rodent under the fence; she couldn't get the beastie out but neither could it get away. The shrill squeaks from the back yard brought hubby and I running to see what was happening. Ginger eventually backed away and everyone went their own way.

Yesterday we heard the squeaking again, and ran out to see what was happening. This is what we saw.

Can you see it? In all three shots you might be able to see the dark grey furry form of her rodent "friend". Here. Here's some better shots, courtesy of hubby.

We've positively ID'd this handsome fellow as a mole. They're handy to have in the yard, as they'll eat up to 30 lbs of grubs a year. Hubby caught him to rescue him from Ginger (who was puzzled and annoyed that we took her (uninjured but terrified) toy away. We released the mole back into a protected place, where it will live another day to eat grubs and tantalize the cat.

First Thing this Morning

2009-07-24T08:53:00.004-04:00

I walked into the Operating Systems classroom a half-hour early this morning, as is my usual habit. I greeted the prof, and then, noting that he had an assignment of mine in front of him, said "Oh. Speak of the devil!"

He looked a little puzzled, so I gestured to the open assignment. "You're marking my assignment" I prompted.

He shook his head, and said no. I tried again. "Oh. Then you're entering my marks."

Again he shook his head. "No" he said, smiling. "I'm using your assignment to mark everyone else's."

I am my own slave-driver.

2009-07-22T10:22:00.002-04:00

We're down to the final push for this semester. Final exams are three weeks away, yet I still have three more "midterm" exams to write. Marks are trickling in and are, for the most part, encouraging. However, the first Java midterm left us all shell-shocked and bleeding from the ears and nose; the class average was 47%. Although I got 55%, that's hardly a mark to be proud of and it might prevent me from making the Dean's List this semester, even though all my other marks are high enough (so far.) I can't believe I'm holding myself to that standard, but, well, here we are. (The prof says he'll bell-curve those mid-term results. That will bring me up a bit.)

I'm tired and crabby. Schoolwork occupies 80% of my waking hours, and a good portion of my sleeping ones, too... I wake throughout the night with snippets of code in my head, working through complex coding problems in my dreams and waking with solutions in the morning. While I admire my subconscious minds' tenacity in problem solving, perhaps I would feel more rested in the morning if I could switch off for a few hours.

While I am still really enjoying the program and the fabulous new skills I am developing, I just wish it wasn't so all-consuming. Those three weeks off between semesters that I have coming up suddenly seem not nearly long enough.

The third semester will be interesting; one less course on my load but correspondingly more homework as the levels become more difficult. As well, there will be preparation for the co-op term, which starts in January and goes until my final semester in September. The co-op term will probably be more restful, except I am an over-achiever and have decided to take night classes while working. The fun class will be more garment sewing lessons; I want to get into ballroom dance costuming and need considerably more skills than I have right now.

The "grit my teeth and do it" class is... French. God help me. I freaking HATE French and hate how it's rammed down my throat and hung over my head, but in order to get my foot in the door at any primo Fed job, I need to improve my oral French skills. (And as clever husband pointed out, I never actually have to speak it on the job... just prove I can by obtaining my profile.)

le sigh. There is no-one in the world who can be as hard on me as I can.

More Sights of Summer

2009-07-16T22:03:00.002-04:00

I was going out of the house this morning, and as is my ritual, I stopped briefly at the sweet peas at the front of the house for a sniff and to bask in the glory of their riot of colour. As I passed, I saw a bejeweled beauty I knew I had to capture, at the risk of being late for school. (These are amazing, if I do say so myself... clickify to view large. Large is always better.)

Other pretty things...

Like XUP commented a while ago... this summer (and I use the term loosely) may be crappy weather-wise but you can't prove it by the flowers.

Remember This in January

2009-07-11T18:38:00.002-04:00

Some of my garden lovelies. This album is for me as much as it is for you; to remind me in the middle of winter that growing things did once exist and will again.

A Little Bit Of Everything

2009-07-09T19:52:00.004-04:00

It's been an awesome week.

I made the Dean's List for last semester! Although I know full well how hard I worked, getting that letter in the mail brought tears to my eyes.
I have income again. Huge relief.
I'm booked into Ste. Anne's for three nights in August. After a little dithering I decided to splurge large. I can't wait!
My husband and I went to Richmond Nursery and picked over 40 lbs (!) of strawberries. It's all berries, all the time now in the house... most went into the freezer but some were dehydrated and of course shortcake was consumed with copious amounts of real whipped cream.
I worked like a dog the last couple of weeks to get the homework situation under control, and now can sit back (just a little!) and relax. However, midterms still continue... pardon my questioning, but doesn't "mid-term" imply that the tests should be... um... in the middle? And not continually throughout? Of course, exams are in a month, too.
The garden is insanely fertile. The radishes have come and gone, I planted a second round of rapini, and we're eating sugar-snap peas to surfeit daily. The sweet peas are beginning to perfume the air at the front of the house.

On the "what the hell?" side of the coin is city council's decision to make students over the age of 27 pay full price for bus passes; we're no longer eligible for the student prices. This is apparently because older full-time students obviously have less need for money than the city does. I don't understand this move at all, aside from the blatant cash-grab. I've already written my city councillor.

Pictures! Yes!

Ever wonder what 40 lbs of strawberries looks like?

What else has to happen after you pick that many berries?

There was baking last weekend... cinnamon rolls with pecans and cranberries. Ooooh yum.

The cat gets everywhere...

...including, on occasion, stuck between the screen and the glass patio door.

Ummm... help? Anybody?

Spa Searching

2009-07-03T14:22:00.002-04:00

Now that I know I'll soon be solvent again, I'm starting to look at my upcoming holidays in August. I have three (!) weeks off between my second and third semesters. Mum and Grandma are flying out for a week, but I also want to take a few days at a spa as I did after the first two semester.

Wakefield Mill was lovely, but I am open to new experiences. I'd love to do Ste. Anne's but I'm not quite *that* wealthy. (They have a pretty good package on for the summer, but it ends right as I'd be available to go.) Do you have anything you could suggest to me, within perhaps a three hour drive from Ottawa, or accessible by Via rail?

The Week That Was

2009-07-02T18:52:00.005-04:00

I found out today that I should be receiving my first LTD payment next week. Even better, and I don't know why I didn't see this coming, it's retroactive from April. *huge sigh of relief*

I had two mid-terms this week. The first, in computer architecture, was two hours of joy... like sitting down on a Sunday and working through the crossword puzzle. It was all on ASCII encoding/decoding, packed decimal format, floating point number format, and some LMC encoding as well... a thoroughly amusing exam and one I know I scored well above 90% on.

Today's Java exam, by the same prof no less, was an exercise in humility. There were an uncomfortable number of questions I simply had to take an educated guess on... it was a brutally difficult exam, despite the fact that it was largely multiple choice. I think I'll be lucky to score 70% on that one.

Though I have assignments due and another midterm next week, I am giving myself the night off. I shall make tea and putter in the sewing room, concluding the evening with a soak in the tub and a glass of wine. I deserve it after this week!

I leave you with random beauty. These orange mini-roses and carnations made my heart glad to look upon them; I'm glad they're frozen in time.

What I Wanted to Be When I Grew Up

2009-07-02T08:39:00.003-04:00

I always wanted to do something with computers; I've loved them ever since we got our first one (TRS-80) when I was in my early teens. I have no idea what prompted my father to drop over $800 at Radio Shack that day (for a computer with a whopping 16 k of memory!) , but I was thrilled. I dove in immediately, teaching myself how to program in BASIC and spending hours poring over Rainbow programming magazines. Later on when Macs were introduced to my school I volunteered as a tutor in the computer lab, just so I could spend more time with those magical machines.

I got sidetracked with photography right after high school, not because it was a passion but because I got the job and it paid the bills. However, a friend at the camera store I worked at kept my interest in computers strong by supplying me with hardware that he didn't need anymore and teaching me how to build computers from the motherboard up. I had a 286, then a 386, and continually upgraded and learned as he upgraded and taught. I will always be grateful to him as he taught me to be fearless with computers; to roll up my sleeves and dive on in.

Then I joined the army, because they told me they'd pay me to become a computer tech. Sho'nuff, I spent 13 months training to be an IT hardware tech... and then got shunted away from it with each and every posting. True, I did some very interesting things in the fields of electronic warfare and long-range sat comm, but it wasn't what I really wanted to do, you know?

When I knew I had to leave the army due to a knee injury I had a long period of soul-searching and aptitude tests with the Personnel Development section, until one day I had the revelation that I could now do exactly what I wanted to do: programming. (Every aptitude test I took pointed me strongly in that direction... hello? Clue phone on aisle 8?)

A semester and a half into the program and I know with every fiber of my being that this is where I belong. It's such a good fit for my OCD-leaning, detail- and puzzle-loving logical mind. I am grateful for this chance to pursue my dream and look forward to the journey ahead.

Sooo Comfortable

2009-06-29T12:49:00.002-04:00

While hubby's at work, I spread out my books and papers on the couch and study there in comfort. However, as comfortable as I may be, I've got nothing on this little girl.

(snapped with laptop webcam, thus the dubious quality.)

Thanks For Nothing

2009-06-29T10:32:00.005-04:00

My career with the military ended in April. So did my pay. I'm currently attending school on long-term disability (LTD), as I was injured on the job and cannot continue my career with the military. LTD will eventually begin compensation for my lost salary while I attend school, but let me tell you, it's been a long, hard and income-less three months.

I may not draw UI during this time but am expected to meekly live on sunshine, fairy dew and my hard-earned savings while I wait for the slow wheels of government to process my paperwork. 8 to 10 weeks, they said... well, welcome to week 12. I've officially spent all my savings in order to pay my mortgage and bills and will be forced to live on my credit line until they see fit as to give me my pension. (Okay, not *all* my savings; I haven't touched my RRSP's. I saved like a miser for months in prep for this dry spell, but it shouldn't have been this long.)

This is lovely thanks for 14 years of service to my country. Love you too, guys.

PS... Let me be perfectly clear. I am VERY aware that a guaranteed income, albeit delayed, is far better than no income at all. Relative to the majority of Canadians, let alone the rest of the world, I am a lucky, lucky girl. I know this. However, it pisses me off to have paid UI premiums for decades and then be unable to use it when I need to. (Don't ask me exactly why this is. It's some special military anti-loophole.)

Anatomy of a Quilt-As-You-Go Quilt: Part 2

2009-06-28T18:11:00.000-04:00

So we left off with the sashing or "grout" fabric attached, front and back, to a single quilt block. Now we being the process of marrying up more blocks.

With backing side up, lay out your second block in the strip. Matching at top and bottom, lay your first block, with sashing attached, on top. Open up the bottom strip of sashing and match it's unfinished edge to that of the block on the bottom.

Pin the heck out of it.

This is super-awkward to sew, as the sashing seam from the top always wants to get in the way, but with a finger guiding it and a little bit of persistence, you should be able to accpmplish something pretty close to 1/4 inch seam.

This is the magic moment, when you unfold your project and realize what you have. Here's the innards of the join, where your two 1/4 inch seams should snuggle up against each other sweetly. (Some quilters sew along this seam with a zig-zag stitch, though I never have. This zig-zag would, of course, show on the bottom though not the top.)

This is the folded sashing from the top, brought over to show you how sweetly this seam finishes off.

This is a view of the bottom of the quilt, where the unfolded sashing has now joined the two squares. Only one more step remains...

A pretty decorative stitch, if you please, or even a careful seam along the sashing, one or two threads from the edge, to secure the folded sashing in place along the quilt top. As this quilt is a crazy quilt, a decorative stitch suited the project just fine.

Repeat, and repeat, and repeat... make strips of quilt that will in turn be joined with the same techniques! Borders, if desired, can be attached this way too.

Happy quilting!

My Second-Day-of-Summer Garden

2009-06-22T20:56:00.007-04:00

As little time as I have had this spring, I still have a lovely garden going full-swing, with an amazing assortment of flowers, vegetables and herbs. I consider it my therapy... when staring at a laptop for hours gets me down, I go and weed or water or simply admire my lovelies.

My sweet peas are reaching for the sky! I can't wait for their heavenly scent.

Happy little cherry tomato plants.

Peas and beans and chives, oh my!

Clematis. Don't you think that a flower this lovely should have a name that doesn't make everyone think of a venereal disease?

Snowy, showy lilacs... these don't get full sun so they're much later then the lilacs elsewhere. Suits me fine.

The veggie and herb garden, featuring rapini, kale, chard, dill, basil, thyme, radishes, carrots, cilantro, beets, peppers, cucumber, tarragon and more. Square-foot gardening is amazing!

Momma's pride and joy: 120 some garlic plants, Siberian Red and Fireball. Wooot! Fresh scapes for supper sometime this week! (My gal pal Lisa and I always hit the Carp Garlic Festival hard; last year I bought $70 in garlic so I never again have to eat the relatively tasteless crap you get in the stores. This year, I've taken another approach to solving the problem... though I'll still be going to the festival!)

Not sure what it is, aside from durned pretty. :)

He Gets Me

2009-06-22T10:40:00.003-04:00

Things have been a little dodgy with my husband and I for a week or so. I, as usual, opened my over-sized mouth and uttered a comment or three that should have remained unspoken... he, as usual, got all distant, quiet and broody while maintaining that everything was just fine.

We spent a quiet weekend together, eyeing each other warily from across rooms. Saturday night, after a busy day, we went for a long walk together, and in the isolation of the still night air of the last day of spring, poured out our hearts to one another in the messy, slightly confrontational, yet healing way that we have discovered solves our blockages of communication. We (gently, somehow) stomp, posture, accuse, and eventually come around to understand each other... and more importantly, we become ready to admit that we understand each other.

My last thread of rebellion and stubborness melted when he took my face in his hands, looked deep in my eyes, and said, "I get you, you know."

And he does. All my quirks, complications, baggage, moods and foibles. He gets me.

Somehow, this is bigger than the fact that he loves me. It is possible to love someone without understanding them... but infinitely better and more meaningful when someone sees you in all your imperfections, understands you better then you do yourself at times, and still loves you.

I am truly blessed to have him in my life.

Anatomy of a Quilt-As-You-Go Quilt: Part 1

2009-06-21T12:54:00.006-04:00

Not long ago, you saw me with just a huge pile of individually-quilted squares. They're lovely, but how, you may well ask, do I transform the many into the whole?

Wonder no more. Below is a quick pictorial to walk you through the "quilt as you go" technique. For further information, may I recommend "Reversible Quilts" or "More Reversible Quilts" by Sharon Pederson; also "Crazy Shortcut Quilts" is a good reference.

This is your starting point. (The books will give instruction on how to get to this point... this is by no means a comprehensive guide but a nudge in the right direction if you're puzzled as to how this whole thing works.)

You'll be making many strips of your sashing material (sashing is the "grout" between the "tiles" of the quilt that pulls the whole thing together.) One strip will be wider and folded in half; the second strip will be narrower and unfolded. Exact measurements of these strips vary from project to project, and from author to author; in this instance I am using strips 1 1/8 and 1 3/4 " wide.

The two different strips must always occupy the same place; if you begin with the wide on the top, stick with it throughout the quilt. Choose (I generally prefer the folded strip on the top, but this is almost completely arbitrary) and line up the strips with the edge of your first block. The unfolded strip will be placed right-side towards the quilt block; the folded strip will have its raw edges on the outside.

Pin this sucker down like there's no tomorrow. Be sure to catch all the layers, while maintaining that lovely straight edge.

Now, throw your 1/4" quilting foot on, and sew through all those layers.

Trim the sashing even with the top and bottom of the quilt block.

This post is a little picture-heavy, so I'll leave off here; watch for Part 2 soon.

A Post-Script about Fedora

2009-06-21T11:27:00.005-04:00

...To be fair, let me also state that I'm using Fedora Live, with a 2Gb USB key as the boot drive. I am pretty sure that Fedora installed onto a fixed system disc would be less hinky. As well, as my prof says with a giddy grin on his face, Fedora is the Linux for Linux geeks... so it may well not be the most straight-forward version of Linux out there.

Back to your regularly scheduled Sunday, and I'll get back to my shell scripting. Carry on! :)

Not Tipping My Hat to Fedora

2009-06-18T21:02:00.004-04:00

I've been using Windows Vista on my laptop for just about a year now. It's freakin' beautiful, and does everything that I need it to do. No issues worth mentioning, and certainly no crashes.

I've been using Linux (Fedora 10) for 6 weeks; since the beginning of the second semester. So far, it's had a cataclysmic crash four times. That's pretty much once a week, and that's crashed-so-bad-you-need-to-format-your-hard-drive crashed. Gone, baby... gone. It even wishes you "good luck" as it drools in a corner, its little mind gone, your command and control reduced to a black screen with a prompt from which you can do absolutely NOTHING.

But in the world of the geek, they worship Linux. I don't get it. Actually, I hate, detest and loathe Linux with a fiery passion and shall never use it of my own volition unless I am seeking to self-destruct an otherwise perfectly running system.

I am not qualified to talk Apple, not having the small personal fortune required to buy one, but I hear they're pretty nice. I lust one, and maybe when I'm a private software consultant, I shall indulge... but for now, I adore my Gateway laptop, the Vista that is installed upon it, and its supreme reliability.

Westfest: Saturday Night

2009-06-14T14:00:00.005-04:00

First off, in amelioration of anything I'm about to say here, Westfest is a free event. No cover charge for anything. Free anything is good. Free entertainment is fantastic.

The caliber of last night's entertainment was largely very good. The Ladies of the Canyon were enjoyable if obscure, and Lynne Hanson's bluegrass-y set got everyone moving. It was country night, after all.

Which kind of begs the question why the between-show pieces were so truly out of character, and in one instance, downright horrible. A pair of DJ's kept the music going before and after the Ladies, but it was techno-house music... a genre that I enjoy but considering the fact that most of the crowd was there to see Prairie Oyster, it seemed an odd choice. As well, if quickly became obvious that they were behind schedule on the performances, yet kept up the DJ'ing for what seemed like an hour.

Worse was yet to come, in the shape of a "media artist" called Bear Witness. For about ten minutes, we were subjected to his version of art: scenes sampled from "cowboy and Indian" movies, highly graphically processed, and accompanied by odd sounds and more thumping techno. Afterwords, my husband looked at me, wide- eyed and bewildered, and commented "Well, there's ten minutes of my life I'll never get back." The entire crowd was embarrassed for the so-called artist, who came out on stage following his piece and made an awkward bow.

In all honesty, I suspect the only thing which got his foot in the door at all was the fact that he is Native, and therefore everything he does is automatically better than any non-Native "artist". I think we've gone too far in political correctness, here, my friends... and if art smells and looks like shit then we should call it so, no matter if it's created by a Native or not. The Emperor has no clothes, but we're all gagged by our (government's?) society's need to kowtow to the poor set-upon aboriginals to call it as we see it. Enough already.

Okay. Rant over.

Finally, 45 minutes late, Prairie Oyster came on. Long story short, due to noise by-laws they had to cut their set-list to shreds as they still had to have the concert over at 11, no matter what time they started at. They were disappointed as was the crowd; although the two other country acts were okay, we sure as hell didn't come to see them, let alone some whacked-out "media artist" and a couple of DJ's.

The concert, what little of it was left, was awesome. Russell DeCarl has still got it goin' on after all these years.

Going Out Tonight

2009-06-13T13:39:00.004-04:00

I'm determined to get out and about the city this summer... there's always something interesting going on, but I often let the fact that I have to drive 20 minutes to get there deter me. Not tonight! I've decreed a family outing... we're going to see Prairie Oyster at WestFest.

They got me hooked on country music, many years ago (20-ish!) at a concert at Point Roberts, WA. I'm excited to see them again.

Also on this summer's schedule is Blue Rodeo at BluesFest, and biking on the Alcatel-Lucent Family bikedays. Don't know why we haven't done this before but darn it, we will this year.

The New Look

2009-06-12T13:44:00.003-04:00

Gosh, you've never known fun until you get to change the font colour of 250 old blog posts by hand.

There was no way that I could find to batch change them, but I really wanted to lose that orange font, so here we are. (To my readers in Google Reader etc, who have been suffering with that orange font for years... sorry 'bout that.)

So. What do you think? It's a little less cozy, I think, but new homes always feel a little odd at first. I'll just put the finishing touches on this place (and finish changing my earliest 100-odd posts) and things will be pretty good.

I've Been Accused Of Worse

2009-06-10T19:58:00.005-04:00

I felt a little sexy this morning when I was dressing for school, and dressed accordingly; eye-popping tulle and satin top in a colour somewhere between fuschia and purple, a short flirty black skirt, fishnet tights and knee-high boots. It said "dancing at a club" clearer then it said "going to class", but what the hell. Attitude is half the battle, thought I, as I stuck out my boobs and put on the 'tude necessary to carry that outfit off.

On the way downstairs I opened the door to my eldest step-daughter's room to make sure she was on track for the morning. Her eyes got all wide as she saw me, and she breathed "Whooooooa! You look like a fairy!"

I was a little miffed at first... I had hardly wanted to channel Tinkerbell with my outfit, but then, later, as I recounted the story to my friends at school, they helped me to understood what she meant. Fairies... some of 'em, are damned hot. I'm okay with being grouped in with them now. :)

Finally Pictures

2009-06-07T13:17:00.006-04:00

I finally got around to getting the pics off my camera, so here are some things I've meant to show you.

First off, a super-fun afternoon project: a quilted pencil-case. The fabric is left-over from the quilt I made for my niece.

The inside, in a coordinating fabric.

A close-up of the quilting.

My cat had a visitor come calling this week.

We live deep in the 'burbs. The developer's equivalent of strip-mining took place before the houses were plopped down, so the wildlife that used to live here was pushed out or killed. This chipmunk is the first I've seen in two years... nature slowly adapting and creeping back to the land we took.
(PS... Liz has since informed me that this was a red squirrel, not a chipmunk, and that this is even better. :) )

Next... a juicy pendant that Velda sent me for my birthday...

She knows I'm crazy about orange! It was a perfect gift... thank you. :)

The Citrus Poppyseed cake I made yesterday. It's a truly decadent cake, with gobs of butter, sugar and eggs; but it's such an infrequent treat (once a year!) that I can make and eat it guilt-free. Almost. :)

Martha Stewart, I ain't... I couldn't smooth out that icing for the life of me, but since it was being eaten amongst family, I didn't sweat it. It tastes wonderful, despite the crappy decorating job.

I need to return to these...

so farewell for now!

38 Things I Love

2009-06-05T13:59:00.004-04:00

In celebration of my... *coughcough* 29th birthday, I present a list of simple things that make me happy.

When the perfect song for the moment comes up on random play on my MP3 player.
Warm, sunny days.
Shoes that look great yet I could still walk all day in them.
Snuggles from my cat Mina, who could easily be mistaken for a total bitch otherwise.
When the government calls and says, hey, we've made a mistake and actually owe you thousands of dollars. (this happened this week.)
Gnocchi with basil pesto, chopped tomatoes, roasted pine-nuts and gobs of feta.
Green tea, brewed so strongly that it seems to strip the first couple of layers off my throat.
Floaty clothing in strong colours. (You oughta see me today.)
The colour orange makes me supremely happy.
Friends who rock at buying gifts for you, and know what you'd love, even if you don't.
Sitting in the back garden with a drink and chatting with friends.
Eating fresh herbs straight from the garden.
The smell of sweet peas wafting through the house on a hot summer day.
Foot-rubs from my husband as we watch TV together.
Brushing my kitties and making them fall over in ecstasy.
Hugs. I need more huggy friends.
Being perfectly on time for the bus in the morning.
President's Choice caramels with sea salt. I am a junkie.
Chocolate gelato eaten straight from the container.
Working so hard to understand a problem in school, and then finally figuring it out.
Total physical exhaustion following a work out.
Also, hurting like crazy the day after a work-out... but hurting in the way that tells you the workout was effective and that one day, your abs will rock.
Raspberry vodka.
The perfect dance, where neither of us needs to work too hard to think about what needs to happen; our bodies just take over and we go along for the ride.
Random connections with strangers; I wish I was brave enough to make more of them.
Friends who will go (sometimes thousands of kilometers) out of their way to spend time with you. This also happened this week. Thank you, Neal.
Friends who are so close that you realize they're more like family. Again, thank you, Neal. That's why I hugged your son. If you are family, so is he. Hope he wasn't all weirded out by it.
Time alone, to eat cereal and toast for supper for a week and not bother to get dressed if I don't have to.
Totally not looking my age.
Fresh pineapple juice.
Spending hours in the sewing room, losing myself in the zen of creating beauty.
Giving *the perfect gift* to someone, especially if I've made it.
Lavender linen spray on crisp, fresh sheets.
When I get let off of kitchen duty by my husband to let me do homework. That, friends, is love in action. :)
Having a maid. There are far more important things to do with my life then to make sure my shelves are free of dust.
Being in a state of anticipation. For example, being very hungry but able to smell the food as it is being prepared, or turning a package over and over in your hands before you open it. The anticipation of an event is (almost) always better than the event itself... I enjoy dwelling there.
When men look admiringly after me as I walk by, and women who are strangers to me smile and tell me I'm foxy. That was this week, too.
Finishing an exam and knowing in my core that I aced it.

I hope your day is full of the things that *you* love... I'm off to bake a Citrus Poppyseed Cake from the Rebar cookbook.

My Favourite Cookbook

2009-05-31T11:53:00.010-04:00

A creature of the Internet age, I have a shelf full of cookbooks that I rarely use. I really ought to just get rid of all but a handful, but somehow having them there gives me comfort, even though I've not cooked a thing from some of them.

There is one cookbook that I prize highly, though, not only for the delicious food it has directed me into making, but for the memories and associations it offers me.

The Rebar, for the unfortunates who know it not, is a wonderful funky, healthy restaurant in Victoria. To me, it epitomizes the entire West Coast ethos... fun, not taking itself too seriously, unafraid to try new things, yet respectful of life. When I lived in Vancouver, I made regular pilgrimages to Victoria's Bastion Square to eat there, and miss it badly now that I'm trapped so far away from my beloved West Coast.

When the cookbook came out, I bought it immediately and drew much solace from its pages. Although the recipes tend to be a little complex from the aspect of ingredients- I rarely have all the ingredients for a specific dish in my rather well-stocked larder- they are all worth the effort. The beautiful lay-out, the personable writing, the comforting feel of this book in the hand, and the many wonderful recipes make me pick up this cookbook over and over, even when I don't intend to cook a thing.

Comfort food, indeed, when just the cookbook itself is so satisfying. Pick it up and leaf through it next time you're browsing your local bookstore, and see if you aren't inspired by the best of the West Coast, as well.

Mission Aborted

2009-05-29T22:02:00.004-04:00

Well, that was entertaining. I prowled the 'net and found a couple of blog templates I'd like to try, and plugged them in to see how things might look. One or two of them might have looked okay, but for the fact that all my text stayed orange. As far as I can tell, there's no way to change all the text at once... and I don't have the time or desire to change it all manually. So, for now... orange and black it is. (Good techie that I am, I saved the original template before I frigged around with it.)

Tedium Alert?

2009-05-27T22:18:00.005-04:00

What with being so immersed in school right now, the only blog posts I find time to write seem to me very heavy. I've not posted anything light or crafty or even taken pictures for what seems like forever. My reality right now is very book-bound; it's extremely exciting on a personal level but learning COBOL, SQL, Java, computer architecture, and Fedora do not for good blog fodder make.

Yes, I'm a Blogger Without Obligation Or Apology, and I'm apologizing for possibly being tedious.

Another thing I find tedious is the layout of this blog. Now that I have just enough HTML to be dangerous, expect some major cosmetic surgery to the blog in the near future. This orange on black thing has to go.

This concludes tonight's random musings.

In Which Things Aren't As They Seem

2009-05-24T16:16:00.005-04:00

Two very unexpected things were revealed to me over the last couple of days. It was really a lesson in trying not to form assumptions about situations, because whatever you're thinking, it's probably wrong.

The largest issue involves DH's children. His ex is at a point where she can wrap up her career, and is married to a lawyer in Europe. Since his law training is useless in Canada, and her career is at a point where she's pensionable, I (and everyone else) assumed that she would move to be with him. Of course, the big question here would be what might happen with his children... do they go with her or stay with us? As the archetypal evil stepmother, I was very much in favour of them leaving the country... although DH would have been dinged for support, I would have been much happier with the kids out of my life. DH, of course, being the good father he is, strongly favoured the girls remaining with us permanently. There were no ideal solutions for anyone.

I learned yesterday that DH's ex's foreign husband was selling his house and moving to Ottawa. I was gobsmacked... it makes no sense for them as far as money goes, but it's by far the better solution for the people. I asked DH if maybe it means his ex actually gave a damn about the kids, and he said no, she was probably pressured into it by her parents and friends. That makes more sense. It's a good solution; the right solution... but I didn't ever think it might happen. I feel... relieved.

A minor issue has been regarding a certain friend at school. We were in each other's back pockets for the entire first semester; travelling in a pack, as it were. Then in the second semester, he became distant and even hostile, repeatedly rebuffing my attempts at resuming our friendship. This last week we've not even made eye contact, let alone talked... I missed our friendship, was hurt by his behaviour, and completely did not understand what I'd done to deserve this treatment. Because, of course, this was all about me. Right?

He's let me know since that he was suffering from severe depression over the last few weeks. I knew he had a history, and considered it to be a possibility, but I didn't think it might explain everything about his behaviour. Of all the people at school, I know him best... therefore I was the one that he felt he needed to distance himself from the most aggressively. I don't think I could have got through to him by trying harder, but it makes me feel good for trying as hard as I did to get through to him.

So, it's been an educational weekend for me and my assumptions. I doubt I've learned any lessons here... old dog, new tricks and all, but perhaps next time I'll consider the possibility that it might not be all about me.

Stupid Dumb Boys

2009-05-16T14:49:00.003-04:00

I am aware that men don't necessarily have the market on stupidity cornered, but you can't prove it by me this week. I have witnessed no fewer than four men of my acquaintance, both extremely close and not-so close, reap exactly what they sowed and then be all surprised and indignant about it.

One man in my life abused his body for decades with crap food and a sedentary lifestyle, mocking his wife's best efforts to encourage a healthier lifestyle. He's now diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes and boy is he reading those nutrition labels carefully now. A little bit of that concern for his own well-being a few years back and he wouldn't necessarily be staring disease in the face.

Another man of my acquaintance didn't think money was a big deal... until his credit cards were all maxed and he couldn't even pay the interest any more. Now, money is a very big deal indeed to him, and will continue to be for years to come. A little needs/wants assessment and budgeting might have saved him and everyone else a whole lot of heartache.

A third little darlin' that I know thinks that skipping class isn't a big deal. Little does he know that he's now on his last strike... one of the classes he's persistently skipped has a "miss three and you fail" rule, but how would he know, since he's never in class?

The fourth story is not my story to tell... but I'm sure my good friend Raina could speak volumes about her stupid dumb boy. I feel your pain, hon.

I could scream with frustration at the actions of these boys around me. No, I'm not perfect, by any means, but some of these problems are so easily avoided.

My grandma has an analogy that I find amusing. She says that the brains of men are like waffles... they crawl into a hole, and then they crawl out and fall into another hole. The brains of women, on the other hand, are like a plate of spaghetti... twining all directions and all over the place at the same time.

Give me patience, Lord, and preserve me from the waffle-brains in my life.

Spring Semester, Ho!

2009-05-06T17:52:00.006-04:00

I completely and totally rocked last semester, if I do say so myself... I even surprised myself with an A in Java, which meant I must have walked on water for that final exam. In Database I got the B that I expected... but that didn't stop the chair of our department from sending me a letter today, telling me that he thought I rocked, too. Very, very good stuff.

Second semester looks scary, and I'm only a couple of days in. However, I think I was scared for the first semester, too... every time I feel overwhelmed I'll log in and read my marks again.

I'd like to thank the anonymous smarty-pants who corrected my writing on the last post. While it's a perfectly valid point, and I did indeed mean "bated breath", rather than "baited breath" as written... dude, don't you have anything better to do than to anonymously nit-pick blogs? At least have the balls to offer your name along with your criticism.

(Had to laugh at the imagery of worms in my mouth, though. Nicely phrased, despite it all.)

Regretfully Back

2009-04-30T13:03:00.005-04:00

I planned my trip so that I could spend the day at Le Nordik on my way to Wakefield... it was nearly 30 degrees that day so the spa was crowded and festive. It took me a good couple of hours to immerse myself in the peace and relaxation I sought, but after the second hot-cold-relax cycle I began to let my stress go.

About 1600 I headed up to Wakefield and checked into the Mill Inn. The handsome young man at the front desk upgraded my "basic" room to a divine suite overlooking the falls. I dropped off my luggage and went exploring...

A road out back led me to a cemetery where I had the opportunity to pay my respects at the grave of Lester B. Pearson. After prowling the small area, I allowed a trail that led to Gatineau Park entice me into the woods, where I climbed a nearby summit and enjoyed the hot breeze.

Descending the trail after a period spent spellbound in the woods (and very homesick for my lost house in the country) , I was charmed anew to see the inn and waterfall from the back-side. It looked very European and reminded me of my country walks around Bosnia. I went up to my room, grabbed my book, and wandered down to the lounge to sit outside, sip a local micro-brewery beer, and immerse myself in the book.

This set the pace for the weekend... it was rainy the next day so I read and nibbled all day long. The book was my constant companion for the two days... by the time I left yesterday I had read almost 700 pages. What an intriguing read... but I *am* a huge fan of Neal Stephenson to begin with. He's certainly not for everyone, though.

I enjoyed an outrageously beautiful and wonderfully delicious table d'hote meal the last night I was there... the food was presented so beautifully I wish I had my camera to capture every course before I destroyed it before eating. (Exhibiting signs of complete blogger idiocy, I completely neglected to bring my camera on my little get-away.)

All in all... a fabulous trip to a fabulous place. I will absolutely be returning there. I am still enjoying a few more days off before I return to school on Tuesday, and waiting with baited breath for my final marks from this semester. They ought to be published tomorrow... (I have four out of six (and they are very, very good) but it's the two I don't have that are the ones I worry about.

I'm Ready

2009-04-26T18:46:00.012-04:00

I'm ready for the beginning of the new semester next week.
I think the coloured pens will make the course load just that much easier.

More importantly, I am ready for a couple of days of rampant hedonism.
My spa pack is all ready to go, (and yes, it includes chocolate and knitting) and so am I. A day at Le Nordik and two nights at the Wakefield Inn. I'll see you later! :)

Signs of (Crafting) Life

2009-04-26T18:34:00.004-04:00

I've since finished the companion to that lone fingerless glove I teased you with ages ago.

I've also completed the lovely Whisper cardigan from the Interweave Knits Spring magazine.

I absolutely love this knit and am thrilled to have finished something so lovely. I wore it for my final database exam and I think it made me 5% smarter.

There's also signs of life in the sewing room.

Mum Janet's quilt is coming along nicely... I love how it's working up. The neutrals are so elegant and the top stitching in the high-sheen rayon is delicious. I'm sure she'll be delighted with it!

Gotta Get Away

2009-04-25T18:22:00.005-04:00

I wrote my last exam today, and feel like pooling into a small blob of ooze on the floor. Oh, the sudden relief of pressure! (Not for long, though. I'm in school all summer, and classes resume 5 May.)

Smart girl that I am, I just realized I have a week off and not much to do with it. The first thing that crossed my mind was to dust off my passport and go south. However, there was no packages available to Mexico at all (what's with that?) (and I don't care about swine flu, before you say it.) The best offer I could find was a two-star hotel in Cuba, six nights for around $600.

I thought about it hard. Money's at a bit of a premium right now, what with not having a job and all, but a week off and exams finished required some sort of celebration. But do I really want to hang around an airport for two days to get there?

I "settled" for this instead. Two nights and two spa treatments at the Wakefield Inn in Quebec. It's almost as much as a week in Cuba, but there will assuredly be no cockroaches and it's only an hour's drive away.

I can't wait. :)

PS... I am TOTALLY not bringing my laptop.

"Nothing to See Here!"

2009-04-22T20:41:00.004-04:00

To distract you from the fact that I have had no new blog content for ages, please go tour this site. I have been laughing continuously all evening over the entries... if you're a grammar weenie like I am, this is your kind of place.

Bringing Me Back To Reality

2009-04-07T09:11:00.003-04:00

A thanks to all that sent comments remembering that today marks a significant passage for me; my last day as a serving member of the CF. I thought it would make me a little sad at the change; as good as school and my civilian life is shaping up, I loved my time of service and was so proud to be a part of something so (I think) important.

Honestly... I've had no time for emotional response. With two term tests this week (one in database, which I find very challenging), finals in another week and a beloved guest (mum Linda) coming out on Thursday, I have had absolutely no quiet time for reflection. I ran ragged all weekend, studying this, fixing that, doing practice tests, sewing, gaming... until my husband, catching sight of the fevered, frenzied gleam in my eye, ran me a hot bubble bath and gave me a massage on Sunday night "to bring me back to reality", he said.

Yes, he *is* a keeper.

Thanks as well for your comments on your favourite poets. I'll have to check them all out and see if there's not another personal "win" on the list.

Poetry Sunday

2009-04-05T18:22:00.009-04:00

Spring

To what purpose, April, do you return again?
Beauty is not enough.
You can no longer quiet me with the redness
Of little leaves opening stickily.
I know what I know.
The sun is hot on my neck as I observe
The spikes of the crocus.
The smell of the earth is good.
It is apparent that there is no death.
But what does that signify?
Not only under ground are the brains of men
Eaten by maggots.
Life in itself
Is nothing,
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
April
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

I was never much for poetry , until I heard a program on CBC Radio One's Ideas on Millay. I fell in love instantly, and am given to reading Vincent out loud while in the tub, luxuriating in the sensuality of her imagery and the hot scented water. Hubby perhaps thinks I'm insane, but I need to speak her poetry out loud to capture the nuances.

I've lately been turned on to Yeats, too, by an episode of House, strangely enough. A young boy reads this poem out loud to his mother... it, too, captured my imagination.

Do you like poetry? Who is your favourite poet?

A Quick Update

2009-03-31T19:55:00.006-04:00

So we're doing an oral presentation in English, worth 30% of our total mark. My partner volunteered us to do ours a full week before everyone else... hahaha. That's okay, I had nothing better to do this week then be a slave to PowerPoint. (At least the presentation is on Guild Wars (I know... how very very geeky) so the topic will be riveting to the other presenter and I.)

Oh yeah... term tests coming up next week, just a couple of weeks before finals. (ohmygod I can't believe we're that close to the end of the semester!)

Mum Linda flies out next weekend for a quick visit... I'm so afraid I'll be swamped with schoolwork but I'll do my best to clear some time in my schedule ahead of time. Maybe it's best I'm doing the oral presentation this week.

I am finishing off the last bits of administration that I need to do before I am released from the military. My last day as a soldier is 7 April... not sure if I'll celebrate or have a little cry or both. Not that I'm not loving being a civvie and a student, but that's a huge chapter about to be closed. More thoughts on this later.

I carved a bit of free time out last weekend and actually began Mum's quilt. The top is nearly pieced; I expect to begin quilting (as-you-go) this weekend. It's spectacular already... pics soon.

Must get back to my presentation. Anyone know how to knit more time?

CBC Cutbacks: Online Petition

2009-03-27T14:06:00.003-04:00

I'm never sure how effective online petitions are, but I figure it can't hurt, might help.

I'm sure you've all heard the news about the massive cutbacks at CBC. If you're as outraged as I am, go here and let your tiny, insignificant voice be heard.

No Littering

2009-03-26T19:45:00.004-04:00

I dreamed last night that I had had a litter of kittens. There were nine of them, and they were striking and gorgeous. Each one had a very distinct patch of lime or vibrant orange fur on their necks, and I was a proud momma. I reclined lazily in the bed, feeling their warmth on my belly, enjoying their unique beauty.

I woke up to discover my thoughtful husband had gotten up, heated a rice-bag, and snuggled it against my belly. I had gotten up ah hour or so earlier to take an Ibuprofen to ease my cramps, and he responded to that with a little gesture of love after he woke up.

Kittens. Huh. Funny how the mind takes off with things.

I Made A Spectre out of Myself

2009-03-21T15:12:00.007-04:00

DH and I went to see The Watchmen last weekend. While I freely admit it isn't a movie for everyone, we quite enjoyed it for a number of reasons.

This is one of the reasons.

Silk Spectre II. All that crime-fighting sexy goodness and really long hair, too. She got me thinking.

The inevitable happened this weekend.

Yes... I Spectre'd myself, or at least my hair. For the first time in nearly 10 years, I have bangs... and I feel pretty damned hot, if I do say so myself. Now all I need is some yellow and black rubber for the rest of her costume. :) (Not to mention killer cheekbones.)

A New Low

2009-03-19T18:51:00.004-04:00

So I was sitting here doing homework and came to the realization I've hit a whole new level of geekiness. I can't even find it within me to see this as excessive in any way...

I was also sitting in a reception area earlier this week, scribbling out Java code for giggles. Another sign the transformation is in progress. :)

Speaking of Java... that last mid-term I was waiting for was in Java, and it was a solid "B" exam. It will do... for now. Not bad for the hardest exam I've ever written, but I know I have to dig deeper. This will probably sound arrogant, but I am not a "B" student.

Mercenary Love

2009-03-11T22:29:00.005-04:00

I met Roy in a gym. It was appropriate... we were both young, and beautiful... and arrogant as only the young and beautiful can be. We worshiped at the temple of our bodies and recognized each other as a like spirit. It was enough to form the foundation of a relationship on.

The physical attraction was strong, and the sex was mind-blowing; perhaps the best I've ever had. We were both competitive, adventurous and outdoorsy, so found common ground outside the bedroom by mountain-biking around Salt Spring Island, weekend hiking trips into the interior of BC, and rock climbing.

We both loved country music and camped out over a long weekend to attend the Merritt Mountain Music Festival; a crazed four days of sun, mescal, oranges, sex and country music. (I walked out of the final concert one evening, thinking the band sucked, was more rock than country and would never go anywhere. Who the hell were these Blue Rodeo people, anyhow?)

Somehow, despite the shared interests and physical passion, Roy and I just never clicked emotionally. We both really wanted it to work, and stayed together long after we should have called it quits... just waiting for that spark. It never came, and we both realized the inevitable after a while. It wasn't a heartbreaker, but it was disappointing.

Before we parted ways, we made a pact. In the event that we reached 30 and were not otherwise engaged, we would marry. Both of us, vain as we were, felt the ticking of the time bomb that was age, and knew our assets were rapidly depreciating. If there was no better offer on the table, we would take the 75% solution and make it work.

As it turned out, I was married at 30, though hubby # 1 was no bargain... he wasn't even a 10% solution, but that's a story for another post. I changed careers, changed cities, changed names, and never saw Roy again. (I just googled him and found a few references to cross-country racing and the Grouse Grind... so he's still up to old tricks.)

It strikes me now how mercenary we were about it. We knew that we had the basis of a pretty good relationship, but we both wanted to see if we could trade up. There's always something better just around the corner, isn't there?

Are we ever really satisfied, or are we perpetually doomed to wonder what's behind door # 2?

PS... Hubby # 2 is a 99% solution, but I have to take his daughters into consideration.. that's -10% each... so he clocks in at 79% right now. In five years, when his daughters are out of the house (pleasegodplease)... his stock will soar.

Can You Hear Them?

2009-03-11T09:38:00.004-04:00

This morning I saw the first "V" of geese winging their way home against the cold white sky. I ran to throw open a window, rapt and holding my breath, listening for their faint honking. As I heard it, my heart leapt within me, and I knew I had survived another winter.

Shot Over the Bow

2009-03-10T21:44:00.007-04:00

I have one mark in out of the two mid-terms I've been dreading, and while it's not the best mark I've ever had on a test, it's not the worst, either. I'll take it, and be happy about it, and use it as a learning experience.

I consider these tests as my "shot over the bow"... I had better knuckle down and get serious about re-wiring my brain to do code. The problem is, everything else in my life is already seriously curtailed due to this study-and-homework routine. Quilting? Who has time for that? Knitting? When there's a spare moment between class. Exercise? Shamefully, it too has often taken a backseat to my scholarly pursuits. And you can bet I'm not clocking 70 hours a week on GuildWars like I was over reading break...

I think what this is telling me is I have to study smarter, not longer. I'm just not sure how to get there from here. I'm also waiting for the "aha!" moment, where my brain cells re-arrange themselves overnight and I begin thinking and speaking in fluent Java and SQL. I'm kind of afraid, yet strangely turned on, when I think of that moment. You'll all still be my friends, won't you?

Put Me Out Of My Misery

2009-03-08T13:09:00.006-04:00

Mid-terms are over. I have some results back, but the two most important courses I am still waiting on the results.

Those two exams were brutal. They wrung me out to the point where I lost the powers of speech for hours after each. One of my profs reviewed the exam the next day without giving it back to us (or giving us our mark), and with everything he wrote on the board, all I could see were the things I did wrong. (This, incidentally, was the hour before the other super-hard exam. That didn't help my mind-set for the second test.)

My confidence is shaken, and will continue to be until I see those results. I cannot code anything right now, too rattled by my perceived mistakes on that exam, and somewhere somehow I have convinced myself that I cannot code worth a damn (despite the fact that I was pretty okay with it before the exam.)

My third computer course, Fundamentals, I actually had two exams in, a practical and a theory exam. I got the class high score for both exams, but this doesn't go too far towards assuaging my terror of a bad mark in Programming and Database. I hope they put me out of my misery soon, because I have programs to write.

*whimper*

The Next Time Aunt Flo Visits...

2009-03-05T21:15:00.012-05:00

This article is a discussion of female hygiene products. Move along to happy fluffy bunny blogs if this offends.

Now here's a surprise. You're not being given the whole story by the "happy period" people at Alw@ys and the shiny sanitary plastic Tamp@x people. There is a real third option; one that doesn't involve the tedious washing of re-usable cloth pads. I've been using this for over ten years, will never use anything else, and can't imagine why more women don't give it a try.

It's called The Keeper. Essentially, it's a small-ish rubber or silicon cup that snuggles up against your vaginal walls, near but not touching your cervix, and simply holds the fluids back. Simple in execution, comfortable to wear, and it makes 17,000 kinds of sense.

Does 17,000 seem like an odd number? Well.... it's the number of pads and tampons the average woman uses in her lifetime. Can you even imagine that amount in a landfill? (go here to see it. )Next, try to picture the bleaches and harmful chemicals that went into their production. And now, the amount of packaging waste. Cardboard, "discreet" plastic pouches and wrappers. That's a massive pile of waste, girl.

Now let's do the math on the money aspect of the scenario. Having not bought the things for years, I really have no idea, but Mother Google knows all... lesseee... roughly $10 for 36 tampons, the same price for 48 pads. That makes the totals (are you ready for this?) $4700 spent over your lifetime for tampons, or $3500 for pads. Wouldn't you rather go to Mexico for a week... twice, rather than buying pads and tampons?

Now. Back to The Keeper. You pay roughly $50 CAD (at today's exchange rate) for a solid ten years of use. (Mine's over ten years and shows no sign of deterioration.) You simply fold it in half, in half again, insert, wiggle a little until it's a nice circle again, and forget about it. Well, not too long... the little holes at the top of the cup to help release the suction will eventually leak if your flow is heavy or if you leave it in for too long. So... you whip it out (by pulling on the stem) when you need to visit the lady's room, empty it neatly into the bowl, clean it with water if available, or t.p. if not, and fold it up and stick it back in. Look! You've saved a tampon already.

When you don't need it anymore that month, a nice wash with hot water (not boiling... this breaks down the rubber) and soap, and then you tuck it back inside the sweet little cloth bag that it came in until you need it next month. "Hand-made by retired seamstresses" the website says. Awww.

Seriously. Why aren't we all using this? Okay... granted, it takes a woman who is not squeamish about her body, its functions and its discharges. However, if you can bring yourself to use tampons, you can get used to, and eventually love, the idea of the Keeper. And even if you are a little on the squeamish side... maybe the environmental and monetary savings will make you think about getting a little more cozy with your bod. And honey, that ain't such a bad thing.

edited to add: Tammy says that they won't ship the Keeper to Canada anymore... but has found a site for the The Diva Cup. It looks like the same thing. Thanks, Tammy.

At Least My Houseplants Think it's Spring

2009-03-05T08:28:00.002-05:00

Knitting Goodness

2009-03-01T17:14:00.005-05:00

Ordinarily, I'd wait until a project was done to blog it, but these are making me so happy right now!

They... or rather, it (the twin glove has yet to be born) is the Nereid Fingerless Glove, based on Cookie A's Pomatomus sock pattern. The yarn is a scrumptious merino/baby alpaca blend called "Diamond Luxury" from Mary Maxim (!) that seems to be no-where on their site... a friend picked it up while on a stitchy crawl in Toronto from their outlet store. It's 50 grams of pure heaven... wonder why they don't sell it over the net?

School Is Good for the Waistline

2009-02-28T11:38:00.004-05:00

I'd heard about the "freshman fifteen", and although I was pretty sure I wouldn't be a victim, I was a little concerned. Needlessly, as it turns out.

I used to pack amazingly huge lunches at work, not realizing at the time that I ate so much because I was bored with my job. I am the very opposite of bored now; perhaps even overstimulated. I run from class to class, so engaged in what I'm doing that I eat now only to fuel the machine. I make sure the snacks I take to eat in class are veggie-and-fruit heavy, and two days a week I sub in a meal replacement bar instead of a packed lunch.

I've completely overhauled the way I eat, and the way I see food, and it was pretty much effortless. I saw the new routine of school as a perfect opportunity to change what I thought needed changing. I also must say that being surrounded by slim young 20-somethings goes a long way towards keeping me motivated. I'm not competing or anything, but motivation is where you find it.

I've felt fantastic these last couple of months... yes, I'm challenged by the work-load, but I love having my brain stretched in different directions, and I have incredible amounts of energy. I'm down five pounds since school started, and I bet there's more where that came from. I acknowledge that I don't *have* a weight problem, per say, but I could stand to lose a few more to get me to my ideal weight. And if I drop an inch or two in the hip/thigh department in the bargain... well, that's all good.

Actually, I am aiming for the freshman fifteen. Only the other way 'round... taking it off my ass, not packing it on.

Postcard From The West Edge

2009-02-23T16:10:00.007-05:00

(Written on Saturday but not posted until today due to a lack of time to get collaborating pictures downloaded)

It was impossible to just go away and leave it all behind… there are mid-terms coming up in college, studying to be done, projects to work on. As if that wasn’t enough pressure, I had additional goals. Get some gloves started, make a pouch for my Zen MP3 player. Finish Eye of the North, and finish mapping Elona. Cheer mum up.

I’m on the plane back, and I got every single one of those goals done, yet I still feel as if I had a holiday. I spent hours tinkering with Oracle, made study notes for Computer Fundamentals, wrote two pages for English, and put together some info for Success Skills.

Here’s the gloves that I started.

(Recognize that scrumptious yarn, V? )

Here’s the MP3 cozy, prior to felting. Love that applied I-cord. God bless Elizabeth Zimmerman.

The Guild Wars goals… well… a little harder to show you, but I now have mapped all of Cantha and Elona and am beginning Tyria. It’ll be a nightmare, to be sure… it’s HUGE, but when I get the Tyrian Grandmaster Cartographer title, I will also max the Legendary Cartographer title, for obtaining all three campaigns… and then I shall be Kind Of A Big Deal. No, really. I’m not just saying that. (I bet no-one has a clue what I’m going on about, but dudes, I did it, I’m proud of it, and you’re gonna hear about it.)

As for mum. Well. That’s not so straight forward. I don’t think she and I are quite polar opposites, but pretty darned close. I’m adventurous; she won’t drive a new way to the store. I take charge of a situation; she lets the situation take charge of her. She is letting her fears and anxieties run her over, and it’s taking the inevitable toll on her health. She needs me, or some other personal cheer-leader, there every day… I did what I could but I hate to leave her to her own devices. Reason 4,744 why being in Ottawa SUCKS.

You want to see Reason 4,741-4,743? Here ya go.

(That's a caterpillar on that leaf. A live one. In the middle of freakin' February.)

As demoralizing as it is to be on this metal tube which is hurtling me back to the land where winter still holds sway, my soul is refreshed. Perhaps I can make it through to our own spring. Sure, it’ll be in April… but it will be worth the wait.

In Short...

2009-02-13T13:50:00.004-05:00

I have an hour between when school is done and when I have to be at the airport.... I'm flying out to Nanaimo (BC) for reading week. Although I take with me massive amounts of homework, both projects and reading, I feel this break is due and deserved.

Last night's dance went amazingly well, and the video looks great. However, the file is 151 Mb and Flickr only accepts videos 150 Mb and under. Of course. So, until I figure out the mysteries of AVI compression, you cannot share our moment of glory. (Is there anyone wise in the ways of this that can throw me a tip?)

(I emailed a link to the photo of the outfit I made for dance class to Linda MacPhee, the designer. She wants to use the photo and my email in her next newsletter! *squee!*)

I'll blog as I can and as I feel like it from the West Coast. I can feel something easing in me already, just knowing I'm going back to the place I love so well. Have a fabulous week.

Twenty Years Better

2009-02-11T11:03:00.006-05:00

I've recently been pummeled on Facebook with "friend requests" from my fellow graduates from high school. Our 20-year reunion is coming up this summer, and I guess everyone is feeling all huggy and emotional about those days.

I have ignored every one of the friend requests. Chances are pretty good that if we're actually friends, we're already Facebook friends. I know that the definition of friends on Facebook is probably different from the real-life definition of friend. Even so, being trapped for a few years in the same educational institution together does not automatically make you my friend twenty years later.

One fellow didn't take a hint when I ignored his request. Twice. The third time (and I was surprised I bit my tongue for that long) I messaged him, telling him I wasn't his friend back then, and I wasn't feeling any closer to him two decades later. (He had something over 1000 people in his friends list. Tell me he's not trying to compensate for something.)

He was surprised, and admitted after a couple of messages exchanged back and forth that he recalls being mean to me in high school. All the more reason not to throw myself at him for a nice how-ya-doin' hug, though honestly I don't remember him being mean. Or much of anything about high school. Everytime I have a drink, I will the alcohol to kill those specific memory cells.

Back to the reunion. I hated that school, that dead-end hick town, my social status (or lack thereof), my friends (or the lack thereof) and the powerlessness of youth. A year or two after graduation, I cut all ties (including an engagement to a local hick boy) and moved down to Vancouver, which marked the beginning of my real life. The one that I carved for myself, not had pushed upon me by convention or lack of other opportunities.

The only reason at all I'd go back is to laugh. To laugh at the high-school beauty queens, once the envy of the school, now 60 pounds overweight, with three pudgy vacant children (or, more likely, grand-children) and a job at the nail salon. To laugh at the school jocks, unobtainable and desireable back then, now with thinning hair and their guts straining their John Deere belt buckles.

It's not worth the airfare just to mock them. My successes and adventures do my mocking for me. I wish my fellow graduates well, but I never want to see them or set foot in that town again.

Organizing committee? You can take that as a "no, I won't be attending." Now piss off and stop sending me info about it.

Finally Finished

2009-02-08T16:39:00.007-05:00

These two pairs of socks seemed to take forever, but they were worth the wait. I took pictures of these as I kayaked the Rideau canal last summer... Yeah... they're skating on it now. Glory hallelujah, they're done. (Indigo Moon hand-dyed yarn, Cookie A's Hedera pattern.)
These began as "Plane Socks", started on DPN's as I needed something to work on while flying out West. Then they became "The Socks That Never End"... and now they're simply done. I ran out of the "On Your Toes" yarn near the top but boldly kept on knitting with some Louet Gems that I had laying around... these are lovely cold-weather buddies.

Finally, in the sewing room, I've made a lovely outfit for dancing. Kate and I sat in on some of Linda MacPhee's workshops at CSNF in the fall, and Linda has made me fall in love all over again with sewing. Great patterns, clearly written, and not needlessly complicated, made in forgiving and wonderfully drapy fabrics. What's not to love?

Wayne and I are doing a floor-show at our dance-studio this Thursday... a sultry rumba to Sade's Smooth Operator. I'll be wearing this:
This skirt, Linda's "Salsa Skirt", is made out of movement itself. I think it would dance without me wearing it... I can't wait to show it off in the studio. Looking fantastic is at least half of any dance routine! (The top is just her "Model T" with funnel neck and long sleeves.)

I love this skirt so much I just ordered more slinky from Linda to make three more... I'm hoping to record our floor-show, but will only post it if it is of good quality, and if the dancers (cough*us*cough*) don't screw it up too badly. Wish us luck!