Top 30

Today I have the glorious distinction of leaving my 20's behind.  No longer do I get to consider myself a carefree young adult.  I'm loosing the title of young, leaving me just an adult, with all the rights, responsibilities, and duties that entails.  There's just no more societal safety net of, "she's young! She'll learn". 

While today is my actual birthday, it can be hard to get family and friends together on a Tuesday afternoon following a long weekend.  So instead we partied Sunday night.  And what a party it was!  Friends and family from town, and even some from further out!  Amy came up for a 24 hour Ottawa stop over!!  And a huge crew of my in-laws came down, bringing with them one of the newest additions to our little crew - baby Jaxson.  One of the only babies I know that doesn't freak right out when I'm around.  In fact he laughed when I picked him up.  Of course now my in-laws are reminding me that I'm about to be not young any more and they would kind of like a little grandbaby of their own.  We shall see.


Birthdays, especially milestone birthdays like a new decade, seem to cause an interesting reaction in people.  If they are past that age they'll usually tell you it's not going to be as bad as you think it will, rather that it was really fun, and then regale you with some anecdote of their time at that age.  Or some accomplishment at or around that milestone.  Sometimes it can be intimidating to hear what others had managed by this age. 

It got me thinking.  Could I come up with a list of my most important 30 events and memories from the last 30 years?  True, I haven't sky-dived yet (and probably never will) but I have dog-sledded on Frobisher bay, and that, my friends, was pretty damn cool. 


So, I give you, the Top 30 of Jen's 30.

1.  I have been on or in all three oceans that border our country.  Swimming in both the Atlantic and Pacific, and dog sledded on the Arctic.  It's still frozen in May, so swimming, kind of not possible.
    
2. I have visited 6 provinces (Ontario, Quebec, Manitoba, British Colombia, PEI, and Newfoundland) and 1 territory (Nunavut). 
   
   
3. I have seen the Midnight Sun (and been burned by it).
   
   
4. I have hiked the West Coast Trail and looked out and known that there was nothing further west until Asia.  I have stood at Signal Hill and looked out and known that there was nothing further east until Europe. 
   
   
5. I finished high school, got an undergraduate and then a Master's degree.
   
   
6. I have published in peer reviewed scientific journals. 
   
   
7. I have loved and lost, and learned to love again.
   
   
8. I have watched 2 beautiful younger sisters and a sister-in-law go from girls to young women, to adults and make remarkable accomplishments of their own.  And I couldn't be prouder.
   
   
9. I bought a house.  And a truck.  I don't actually own either free and clear yet, but it will happen.  Eventually. 
   
   
10. I have been told that I have inspired someone.
    
    
11. I co-founded a business which is growing almost faster than we can keep up.
    
    
12. I ran an organization with hundreds of volunteers, that reached thousands of kids a year, all to make science fun.
    
    
13. I have been walked on by butterflies.  And one very, very large moth. 
    
    
14. I have laughed so hard that I cried.  And just kept laughing. 
    
    
15. I have been shocked speechless.  And every time it's been because of an act of love. 
    
    
16. I have survived 30 years without breaking a bone in my body.  A dislocated jaw, but no breaks.  Sorry mom, apparently that wasn't enough to wire my 16 year old mouth shut for a month.  I know you were hoping they would.
    
    
17. I learned to curl, and met some of the best friends of my life doing it.
    
    
18. In 30 years, I have never been arrested. 
    
    
19. Although I still get asked for ID when I go out. 
    
    
20. I have learned that I can't sing, dance, or swim.  Not that I don't still do the first two, I just do it where nobody else has to suffer for it.
    
    
21. I learned how to play the flute, oboe, piccolo, and piano. 
    
    
22. I survived Ice Storm 1998.  And Y2K.  And remember them. 
    
    
23. I have skated the entire length of the Ottawa Canal.  And back again.
    
    
24. I fell in love.  I got married.  And every day I wake up next to my best friend and partner in business, life, and love.  And every day I love him more. 
    
    
25. I gained more family that I can shake a stick at when I got married.  And while I thought there were a lot of them 12 years ago, every so often they go and add another one.  And I have seen that family celebrate and love every member. 
    
    
26. I taught myself to knit.
    
    
27. I have been told by an 80 year old man that holding my yarn while I wind a ball makes him feel like a kid again.  How he remembered being 5 years old and doing exactly the same for his mother all those years ago. 
    
    
28. I've heard regret from the family that I didn't have the chance to meet Andre's Nanny.  Apparently we are remarkably alike.  Something to do with knitting all the time.   
    
    
29. I have survived times when I was so tired and broke and hopeless that it was all I could do to just put one foot in front of another.  Times when "one more day" just seemed almost too long.  But I did take one more step, and one more day went by, and then another and another. 
    
    
30. And I now live in a time where I am happy.  Things are not perfect.  Things are still hard.  I still worry.  But it doesn't matter.  I can always take one more step, and I will always get through one more day.

So to all those people out there that I have met over the last 30 years, thanks.  There are a lot of these things on this list that couldn't have happened with out you.  

Be Still My Lamprocapnos spectabilis

Sure enough, it's spring, and I've been overrun with work.  For both jobs, this time of year is like Christmas for retail stores... Home improvement peak season is April - July, and André and I are running around like mad. 

On the plus side, he's so busy that he's looking at hiring another employee.  This would be great because it would free him up for more time to do consultations and design work.  On the down side, it increases the pressure to find more and larger jobs to keep his growing crew busy.  It would also mean more paperwork for me. 

Oh, and we're incorporating.  So imagine the paperwork that I am chronically trying to dig my way out of. 

Times like this friends and family look at us and shake their heads.  We need a holiday, they say.  We need to stop and breathe and smell the roses.  Right...

Sitting on the front step for a momentary break the other morning, we took a look at the weedy excuse for a garden.  Then André pointed down and said, "isn't that a little bleeding heart bush-lette right there?"

And would you look at that he's right.  It made my day, my week, my month, and my summer, all in one glance. 

When André and I first moved out together, we had a dumpy little town house in a not so nice nieghbourhood.  But the back yard was a decent size, and I figured I'd try my hand at gardening.  Turns out that I'm not terribly good at gardening, but lucky for me, two of my favourite plants are good and hardy - lilacs and bleeding heart bushes.  Every house I've ever lived in has had these plants somewhere on the property, and I really wanted to keep the tradition. 

Fast forward a year and a half, and we've bought a house and are getting set to move.  We're in the middle of a town house row (in a much nicer neighbourhood), and there are lilacs on either end.  But there weren't any bleeding heart bushes.  No problem, I said, I'll just dig up the one that I planted at the old house, put it in a bucket, and bring it with me. 

Well, cue university life and all of the other work that comes with home ownership, and before I knew it, it was winter, the ground was frozen solid, and so was the bucket with the still-not-planted bleeding heart.  Oh, well, I said, I'll just get a new one in the spring.  Imagine my amazement when in the spring the bleeding heart just sprang right back to life in its bucket, flowering away happily.  In fact it looked so happy that I left it in the bucket for another winter.  (Ok, that's a lie, university life got in the way so bad that I again forgot about it.)

Finally, a break in the following spring and I actually planted the miracle bush in a prominent spot in the front garden.  And there it stayed happily for another few years.  The last two years it started looking a little peaky in the spring, so in my gusto to make this plant as happy as it could be, I transplanted it to a better spot in the garden away from the drier vent, and in a sunnier spot. 

And then we had a drought...

And this year my big beautiful bleeding heart bush didn't come back. 

I have no idea if there is a natural life span of these plants (they're a semi-tuberous root system, so likely they'll just keep going as long as there is water and sun and nothing eats them), but apparently 10 years (with 2 in a bucket) and a drought proved too much for this one.  I felt like I wanted to cry... despite everything else I'd done to this poor plant, I was going to miss it. 

Then André pointed out a little tuft of green amongst the weeds, just beside the spot where I had planted the old bush.  Just a wee 4" tuft of a different leafy green than the weeds.  A bleeding heart bush-lette.  There might not be flowers on it this year, but you'd better believe that it's going to be the most carefully cared for little plant on the block. 

It's perfect for the mantra that's kept me going through the last few weeks of insanity:

Next year it will be better. 

Next year I will stop and smell the roses bleeding heart flowers.

Thrown to the Lions

Just a quick post for now, lots going on, and not a lot of free time at the moment.  So some random thoughts from the last few days.

Starting with this:

Yes, people, it's April.  But this is Ottawa, Ontario, Canada.  Seriously, what were you expecting?  There have been 3 snow-less Aprils in the last 50 years.  Just because it was nice for a week in March doesn't mean that our lion winter won't have cubs that will come back and bite us later. 

Although the snow on top of ice pellets on top of freezing rain followed by rain and then more snow all in 24 hours might have been a bit much for the average person to cope with. 

It's supposed to start warming up soon.  So they claim.  With lots of rain. 

So it turns out that the Classica Coat and knit socks I've been working on will still be useful if finished in the not too distant future.  Although I'll need more sock yarn... apparently not enough yarn in the left overs for another whole pair. 

The coat however is progressing nicely.  Back done, and one front panel started.  Pictures to follow should I manage to find the camera during the house clean up today. 

I had thought about tidying up the deck and getting the patio furniture out... Maybe next weekend.  When it's not snowing.

In Like a Lion, Out Like a.... Lion?

There is an expression about March:  In like a Lion, out like a Lamb.  If the beginning of March is rough (storms, cold, snow, etc), by the end of March it will be mild and peaceful.  Of course the opposite is supposed to be true too.

In truth however, this is Canada, and March is generally just lion shaped all month long.  Weather wise this year March saw yet another big snow fall, a couple of colder than normal days, and as we reach the final stretch, some rather dramatically warm days as well.  While this might sound lamb-like, ask anybody in a lower lying area how critically important it is to make sure that your sump pumps are working 100% during this time of year.  All of that melting snow has to go somewhere and basements are a common escape route.

March came roaring in in other ways too.  I was kill-me-now-please sick for a week at the beginning.  Thankfully I recovered enough to be groupie of the year for André and the curling team, but no sooner did life look like it was getting back to normal than my sinuses decided that it was their turn to be my downfall.

Now the Easter weekend is upon us, and we are trying to fit as much as we can into a couple of days off.

Advancements in the knitting world have also been on the lion and lamb side of things lately as well.  The delivery of the John Deere socks in time was quite the relief.  And all the time out watch the boys curling let me get something else off the needles too.  I give you Cable and Cross.

 

This was the hat project that I started on the train on the way to Toronto back in February.  Once Amy's mitts were done I was smart enough to remember to return the needles to the bag with this lovely wip.

Details: Knit as written on 4.5 mm circulars, magic loop.  Almost entirely 2 balls of Andean Treasure in Mystery from Knit Picks (it was kicking around in my stash).   Overall a fantastic project - yummy yarn, at just the right gauge to be dense and warm but not crunchy and tight, and a pattern complex enough to be interesting, but simple enough to memorize so that I could watch curling rather than my notes.  Although, having a chart rather than just written instructions would have been nice.

André found Exeter, so this one's mine.  And it served me well in the last few weeks.

I've also cast on a couple of new projects (hey, I finished 2 things, now I'm starting 2 more.  It evens out in the end right?).


First are a pair of Java socks.  These are a bit of a rush for a close friend who's about to go in for major knee surgery.  Right before his birthday.  I may have just jumped right in and gotten all the way down to the ball of the foot of one sock before thinking that it was looking a wee bit small (said friend is 6'1" with mercifully only men's size 9 feet).  A quick test on André (men's size 8) and they were far too small.

So I ripped it alllllll back and started over with the larger size.  I really should have looked at the pattern a wee bit closer at the beginning, but that's what I get for just jumping right in.  I'm working with some chocolate brown stash sock yarn on 2.25 mm needles.  I have 2 weeks. 

Also on the needles is a project that I've been meaning to start for a couple of years.  The Clasica Coat from Interweave Knits Fall 2009.  I found the perfect yarn while out with my sister-in-law just before New Years (the same time I picked up the yarn for Exeter).  Léttlopi in the descriptively named colour #1401.  The catch? Neither location of Yarn Forward had anywhere near enough for the entire project.  So the lovely ladies ordered some, and I picked up 18 balls (probably a slight over estimation, but better safe than sorry) in early March, along with getting my sewing machine serviced.

I want this coat to work out, so in a moment of brief sanity, I swatched.  I actually made 2 different ones on different needles, since I thought the first one with the needle size recommended for the pattern looked a little loose.  Then I washed and blocked the swatches.  And waited for them to dry before measuring them.

I thought that the one with suggested needles was still a bit loose, but the other done on needles 2 sizes smaller was definately too small.  So I figured I'd compromise and go down 1 needle size for the body of the jacket.  Well... one ball in, and the back is almost 3 inches too narrow.  Despite being a needle size up from the smaller swatch, my gauge is apparently TIGHTER by not a small amount.

Now we're back to the suggested needle size, and I've knit another entire ball, and it's looking way better.  I just have to remember to keep going on it.  The back is 19" of stst.  Not exciting.  But soon there will be shoulder shaping and the interesting pattern on the sleeves and front.  I just need to get there.

It seems fitting doesn't it?  That both of my newest projects cast on in the spring are the colours of spring?

What?  Spring's not brown?  I don't know where you live, but this is spring in Ottawa.  This early in the spring what isn't brown is road salt grey.  The green stuff and pretty flowers aren't going to be around for a while yet...

Walk On - Deere, John

Or perhaps more appropriately, Dear Kyle,

André and I met you almost 4 years ago when we started curling.  You worked at the Pro Shop at the club, and were responsible for us completely blowing our budget when kitting ourselves out for our first year.  But we forgive you, the gear we got was amazing, thanks!

You also ventured out on the ice with Dave to teach us and another beginner the basics of the game.  Brave, brave man.  You both were patient, careful, and overall exceptional teachers.  Again, thanks!

Two years ago, when a teammate of yours broke his collar bone the week before the OVCA Men's Bonspiel you asked if André could fill in.  That gave him such a confidence boost, you have no idea.  Even the "demotion" to second after your first game (yes, you do need guards where you ask for them, and Rory is far better at that than André is...), the fact that by the end of the tournament you were already talking about the next year and how you and André would need to find some more teammates, made André's entire season.  That alone made the chauffeuring of your drunk asses around all weekend totally worth it.  Thank you.

We won't speak too much of your going away party, partly cause I'm not sure how much you (or most other people there that night) actually remember.  But it was one hell of a night!  You have some pretty damn cool friends, thanks for including us in that gang!

And then you moved home, back to Owen Sound (ish).  That's far.  But you came back for the OVCA Men's with two new teammates and André, and while you boys didn't do as well as you were hoping, it was still a pile of fun.  Especially after that last game at Carleton Heights where we all just about laughed ourselves sick discussing the ever increasing elaborate game of curling on the canal with cannons.  I still smile to myself thinking about it.  And while I still didn't manage to win groupie of the year, it was super fun.  Thanks :)

This past week you and your girlfriend made the long trek back to Ottawa to reunite with Taylor, Joel, and André in Team Fail to Fail's second attempt at the OVCA Men's.  This year, I was prepared. There were cookies.  And mini-pies for pie day (March 14th for those uninitiated in the tradition.  March = 3, so 3.14... March 14th... pie day!).  And designated driving, and the wave when you guys made your shots, and hugs when you didn't.  And the careful reading of the draw boards (ok, win this one so that we don't have to drive all the way to Navan for a 9am draw on Saturday morning!!!).  And training your Jen in the ways of team groupie-ness (she's fantastic by the way).  All of this might have been enough to finally award me groupie of the year by the rest of the team, but somehow, I think that these might have had something to do with it (even if they weren't quite done when you got here).

All of your curling stuff is green.  And the last time we drove past a John Deere dealership you damn near climbed out the window to check out the shiny tractors.  And I can still see you standing up on the hacks last year in Metcalf trying to get your feet off the ice to warm up even a little bit.  So despite your 6'+ height and size 11 feet, socks seem like not enough of a thank you for all the good that you've given us. 

I wanted to make these socks really really special.  So I found some awesome people to hold the sock. 

Look! Joe (owner of Hogline Pro Shop and generally awesome person) and Dalal (our curling club manager, who in fact does not curl... figure that one out). 

Remember I started knitting those socks at the Scotties watching the Homan rink kick some ass?  Well, André and I happened to be around during their send off party for World's.  With a little bit of help (thanks Joe!) I give you Team Canada and the John Deere sock. 

Those girls think that I am probably completely insane.  Although Emma said that the socks were sweet.  I hope these socks keep you warm in all your curling adventures.

And thanks for being amazing.  Love,  Jen

Walk On - Greener On the Other Side

I'm in the process of recovering from flu-hell-2013.  It's been an unpleasant week.  I'm mostly back to my normal self, if accompanied by a deep hacking cough that I hear can hang on for weeks.  But I'm sleeping (mostly) through the night again, and the world has stopped spinning if I think about sitting up. 

Needless to say, there hasn't been much knitting progress in the last few days.  However, I have continued a time honoured tradition that I started in grad school.  The latest installment has been delivered, so at least I have something knitting related to say.

When friends graduate, we all want them to walk out into the world, get "real" jobs, and be successful and all those awesome things.  But the real world is a cold and scary place. 

So I started a tradition.  When friends graduate, they get hand knit socks to keep them warm and safe as they go.  It's not much, but it's the least I can do. 

Now that I've graduated, and most of my friends have as well, I haven't knit a pair of graduation socks in a long while.  But one of the girls at work just finished her undergrad over Christmas, and is moving half way across the province to be closer to better job opportunities (apparently Toronto has more of a market for those with International Business and Marketing degrees than Ottawa... go figure). 

Christine (not Irate Avian Christine, but another one) taught me my job.  And is smart and pretty and funny and all kinds of awesome.  So Friday, as she breezed back through town en-route to a concert in Montreal stopped by work to collect her graduation socks. 

I generally try and take requests for socks, I want people to like their socks.  Christine's only request was green.  Well, green I can do!

So walk on Christine.  Go forth, kick ass, take names, and hopefully the grass in Toronto is greener than here. 

Bring It Homan

Last night was the final game of the 2013 Scotties Tournament of Hearts.  The winner goes on to represent Canada at the World Championships in a few weeks.  And gets an automatic trip to the Scotties next year as Team Canada.  As well as an automatic entry in the Roar of the Rings in November - the competition to determine Team Canada for the 2014 Winter Olympics.

No pressure.

At the end of round robin play, Team Manitoba skipped by Jennifer Jones had clinched the top spot going undefeated with an 11-0 record (which hasn't happened since 1985 which it was accomplished by Linda Moore, now of announcing fame, although they only had a 10-0 record since Team Canada didn't automatically get the chance to come back).  Team Ontario, out of OUR curling club, skipped by Rachel Homan parked themselves firmly in second, with their only loss being to Jones and the Manitoba rink.  In third, Team Canada from last year skipped by Heather Nedohin, and fourth, BC skipped by Kelly Scott.

The National Curling Association uses the Page Playoff system.  Once the ranks are established, the quarter finals are played.  The first and second ranked teams play each other, as well as the third and fourth ranked teams.

The winner of the 1-2 game gets a by into the finals.  The loser plays in the semi-finals against the winner of the 3-4 game.  The semi-final winner goes on to the finals.

Complicated enough?  It makes a lot of sense once you get used to it. 

Team Canada beat BC in the 3-4 game on Saturday afternoon.  Or so we heard later.  We'd been taping the game to watch it once Andre got home from curling that morning.  We hit the fifth end break and I looked at the clock.  4:15 pm.  The 1-2 game is on at 7.  Kingston is only 2 hours away, and neither of us has to work in the morning.  Then I opened my big mouth.

"You know, if we leave now, we could make the 1-2 game."

And so we drove to Kingston.  Again.

I still haven't been able to figure out how we managed to pull this off, but we got there, parked, collected tickets, and found our seats with 15 minutes to spare.

Oh, yeah.  And we had ice level seats.  At the home end (which means that when it comes down to that critical shot in the last end for the win or loss, we are in the front row).

Knitting and curling watching (and associated beer drinking) go together like peanut butter and chocolate.  The rumble of the rock as it's being thrown gives the cue to look up to see the shot.  On TV the announcers just talk, so all I have to do is listen.  Until Russ starts putting arrows everywhere. Then I'm liable to drop stitches if I don't pause for a minute. 

When we went on Monday I had packed a very special project to bring with me.  Socks for our friend Kyle.  He is one of the people that taught André and I how to curl 4 years ago.  He and André have curled the Ottawa Valley Curling Association Men's Speil the last few years together.  He skips and André throws second.  The first year they curled together one of the rinks was particularly chilly and Kyle eyed the socks I was knitting for myself.  Apparently he'd like a pair to keep him warm while curling. 

It's a good thing I like him, the man has size 11 feet.

So what better project to take to the Scotties, then socks for the man that taught us the game. 

Look!  Homan and Jones!  And a giant green sock in progress.  At the page 1-2 game in Kingston.

Homan went on to with that game, leaving Jones to battle Nedohin for the chance to play the finals.  Pardon the fuzzy cell phone picture, but they came right near where we were, and the crowd crushed in.  Remember, they are Team Ontario, we are playing in Ontario, and Kingston is close to Ottawa, so lots of local fans.  Oh, and Ontario hasn't won the Scotties since 1996. And now they are guaranteed at least a silver. 

Jones and Manitoba beat Nedohin and Canada in a very exciting Sunday morning game, meaning that at 7pm last night there would be a Jones/Homan rematch.  They were 1-1 against each other.

And Homan and the rink out of the Ottawa Curling Club won the 2013 Scotties!  The coming home party at the club is going to be epic.  And there will be a Scotties banner in our club.  Unreal.

In the mean time, I continue to slave away on the giant green sock.  There's no curling on TV for now, but the Brier, Men's Nationals, starts on Sunday, so there will be time enough soon.  It's in Edmonton this year, which is a wee bit more than a day trip from home, so no unannounced trips to see the men play.  Oh well, there's always next year.

Although then it's in Kamloops, BC. 

I guess there's always 2015.