F is for ...

FRIENDS

Remember your early teenage years? The ones during which you pledged eternal friendship to four or five really close friends and you could not imagine ever not being friends with them? Remember Ann (or is it Ann with an 'e'?) and Diana? "Bosom friends".

As we get older, I think it becomes harder and harder to find those special individuals that we would do anything for. The ones we can say anything to. The ones we can call on when we need them the most. The ones we trust with our children (and our husbands). The ones who could walk into your house without knocking, find you in your tattered pyjamas cleaning goodness-knows-what off of the floor under the kitchen table and help themselves to a cup of coffee leaving you to think only, "I'm SO glad you stopped by and saved me from myself this morning!"

When we had our children in Vancouver, thanks to a great baby group, I made some super friends. Some went back to work, some introduced me to other wonderful friends, some we met on random rock-picking walks. It took a bit of work, but 4 and a bit years later, I could safely say that I had some fantastic friends.

And then we moved.

No university classes to meet people at. No baby groups (whew!) to have to attend. Half the kids in Jordan's class took the bus and I never met their parents. How on earth was I to make friends?? That was a rough first year. Gradually, I met people, but I still felt like something was missing. Bosom friends.

I made connections, to be sure. And then one fall day, a bunch of us were standing around at the school and were, probably, all fed up with mothering. Someone tossed out a, "Hey, we should all go away for the weekend sometime soon...."

And we did.

And it was awesome.

And we keep doing it.

And I have 4 bosom friends.

Whether we show our bosoms or not ;)

Of course, I have great friendships that have endured 25+ years.

Ones left from university.

Ones that I cherish from our time on the coast.

And some new faces, too.

Love you all!

E is for...

EIGHT

Eeeeek...she's eight. Really. Three days later and I still find it hard to believe. I think that the kicker for me is that I really remember being eight. Going to summer camp, moving cities and schools, my grade 4 teacher, my grade 4 art project that I loathed (art was my very very least favourite subject in school), my friends and so many other things.

Never having fallen in love with Nancy Drew, I remember being really into Trixie Belden. Not Jordan - she's completely taken with Miss Drew and all of her fantastic adventures. Not having read the series at all, I wondered if it was appropriate for someone who was only seven. I was told that Nancy was old enough to drive, so she must be a teenager. She also has a boyfriend, Ned, that she goes to dances and stuff with. Innocuous enough, I suppose. Needless to say, the party theme this year was...any guesses? None other than Carolyn Keene's loveable heroine.

The invitations were done as a boot print on argyle paper, written in code.

The cake was just cupcakes decorated with and arranged in the shape of a question mark.

The guests numbered only 3, but they all received an argyle headband and a N.D. book.

Dinner was served on our good dishes, with tablecloth and candles...and argyle napkins (bien sur!)

The difficult task was customizing a "real mystery" for the little sleuths to solve. I decided that "The Case of the Missing Sister" would satisfy Jordan's request for a puzzle and her need ot have Maya out of the way for a bit. Our dear neighbours agreed to feed Maya dinner while Jordan and her friends tried to solve the mystery. I wrote clues out and had them around the house, with the final clue being "It just doesn't compute". They found their clue on the computer in the form of a video message from Maya.

Her hint had them looking on the back of the clues they had collected where the letters written in lemon juice spelled out "IT'S FRANK". I had to candle the clues for them to get the invisible ink to show up, as a house fire was not in my plans. After the missing sister had returned, we went to the basement to play Clue (possibly the longest game ever). One slept over and the other two headed home. Good times.

At any rate, the birthday festivities have drawn to a close with a homemade sushi dinner and "champagne" to celebrate Jordan's turning 8 on the 8th. Maya instisted that it was a "propane birthday", but we don't drink that in this house. Far too cute. Here comes Christmas!!

"D" is for...

DARN IT!!!!

I was happily knitting along when the increase was encountered...6 more stitches...12 more stitches...

My needles are too short.

So are my legs, but that's another story altogether.

Thinking I was being clever, I thought I could squeeeeeeze the stitches on and hold them with my finger as I neared the end of a row. It worked for a while and then I noticed something else. I was running out of yarn. I know I'm supposed to knit a 4x4 swatch to check my tension, but it honestly seems to be a waste of time even though I read, "Even a variation in half a stitch makes an obvious difference in the finished size."

Blah blah blah...darn it. I used more colourful language (to match the wool, you know), but for family readers and almost eight year olds with a propensity for over-the-shoulder lurking, we'll agree that I said, "Darn it!"

I purchased one size smaller needles (yes, they are longer) and will commence frogging this item. "Frogging" is my favourite knitting word...know what it means? Think ribbit ribbit ribbit. Got it? Try rip it rip it rip it. Ahhhh...now you've got it!

Now try to guess what I'm knitting!

"C" is for...

CHICKEN

I love chicken. Alright, I love the versatility of chicken. I don't really love the skin, the bones, the rubbery texture of microwave-defrosted chicken, the wiggly bits that require trimming...you get the idea.

The trouble is, as much as we love chicken around here, I don't have a great go-to chicken recipe. Each and every time I take chicken out for dinner, I spend an inordinate amount of time searching my recipe books and the internet for THE chicken recipe. Part of this problem stems from the fact that I really dislike repetition in my cooking. Many a time we have sat at the table with a delicious meal in front of us - a meal we ALL like - and Mike will comment, "This is so good! Guess we won't be having it again for a while..."

Last night that pile of frozen chicken breasts was magically transformed into coconut curried chicken. With tomatoes. The leftovers consist mostly of a pile of tomatoes, a little sauce, a spoon of rice and maybe if I dig really deep, a piece of chicken. But they all liked it...see you in a few months, coconut curry chicken. But what a great recipe to cook the night before my "C" entry, eh?

The rest of the family adores chicken legs. "Drumsticks, drumsticks!" they beg in the meat aisle at the supermarket. I cannot think of anything chicken I would rather NOT have...well, chicken wings are right up there, actually. I do have some chicken thighs (wiggly bits picked off before being put in the freezer of course) and perhaps I will get them in the slow cooker in time to produce this:

Baked Chicken with Mustard Barbecue Sauce (from 300 Slow Cooker Favorites by Donna-Marie Pye)

12 skinless chicken drumsticks (I used thighs)
19 oz / 540 mL can tomatoes - drained
1/4 packed brown sugar
3 tbsp cider vinegar
2 tbsp prepared mustard
1 1/2 tsp Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper

1. Place chicken in slow cooker stoneware.
2. In a blender, or food processor, puree remaining ingredients until smooth. Pour over chicken.
3. Cover and cook on Low for 5 to 7 hours or on High for 2 1/2 to 4 hours until juices run clear when chicken is pierced with a fork.
4. For a thicker sauce, transfre chicken to a serving platter and keep warm. Transfer sauce to a saucepan and bring to a boil. Boil gently until reduced by half, or until sauce reaches desired consistency. Serve over chicken.

"B" is for...

BOOKS

I ventured solo to the library yesterday for the first time in ages. I usually spend time with one or the other of the girls while one or the other of them is dancing across the street. Jordan is still too sick to be out in public, so off I went. A full 45 minutes and I didn't step foot in junior fiction, flip through the orange binder of kids' DVDs or touch the carousel teeming with Raffi and his cohorts. Freedom.

I looked through each and every CD and came home with Blue Rodeo's "Small Miracles" and Loreena McKennitt's "To Drive the Cold Winter Away". I checked out the entire "NEW FICTION" section and lingered over some old favourites deep in the stacks without once hearing, "Mom, can we get....?!" Liberating.

In the end, I came home with only 3 books - okay I ordered one on inter-library loan, too. Oh, and I bought one from the $2 used rack. Fairly ambitious for the next 3 weeks, but there are always renewals, right?

Testimony - Anita Shreve

The Bone Cage - Angie Abdou (written by a friend of a friend)

Signora da Vinci - Robin Maxwell

The Sportswriter - Richard Ford (coming soon, I hope)
All Aunt Hagar's Children - Edward P. Jones (a good score for $2 if I do say so myself!)

There were some disappointed faces when I came home without anything for them, but then I pointed out the basket teeming with their library materials and they agreed that it should last them ... until next week.

"A" is for...

ADVENT CALENDAR

When I was little, I was always so excited by the cardboard and chocolate advent calendars that marked the beginning of December. A chocolate with breakfast? Should I save it until after school? The surprise of what shape was hiding under each flap continued to amuse me well into my teen years (though I was far too cool to admit it, I'm sure).

Since Maya is unable to indulge in chocolate, I have been wanting for a couple of years now to make an advent calendar that will (hopefully) become a family heirloom. Sadly, I always think of it around the last week of December. This is what we fashioned last year (not my own idea...I believe it came from Craftzine's fabulous website)

While the idea of chewing a piece of gum each and every day in December definitely appealed to the girls, I longed for something a bit more traditional.

Our local quilt shop has a birthday sale every year where you are offered a one time discount equivalent to half your age the week before & after your birthday. Let's just say that my discount is getting significant enough that I couldn't resist! Along with some great spring fabric for a quilt for myself, I picked up a panel for an advent calendar. With the flu nipping at our heels, we stayed in on Sunday and I managed to get all the little pockets sewn on in one go!!

This still leaves the sashing and quilting to do, but I'll get to that - hopefully before November 30th! Jordan is already planning the goodies we can put in there...

A rocket scientist I am not

I can sew. Nothing fancy or complicated, but I can sew. I can also read a pattern thanks to Miss Eppinger in Grade 8 Home Economics. Once upon a time, I spied a great book in the bargain bin at (I admit it) Wal Mart. I had visions of crafting Halloween costumes for the girls for years to come. It sat on our shelf, moved to Trail with us and now, 5 years later, I endeavoured to make my little Maya a "bat hat" that she spied in there. Piece of cake, right? The book did come with a"Full-Sized Pattern Sheet" after all. The singular "sheet" should have alerted me to the fact that there might be more than one pattern on a page. I was not prepared for what I saw when I opened that sheet...

Holy smokes! I found the pattern, highlighted it, but still had to tape it to my kitchen ceiling flourescents to trace it out. The directions were simple enough, though, and my little bat looked just as cute as a bat can be - see for yourself!

The witch was store-bought this year as I couldn't have bought the fabric for the price we got the costume for. She was a beautiful witch, if I do say so myself...

Winter goodies

There are certain things that make me feel cozy in the cooler days of fall. My favourite fleece vest, the lovely felted wool slippers made for me by a good friend, the crackle of a fire...and food. Almost anything stewy, soupy or casserole-like will do. Food is seasonal, for sure, but I find myself wanting to replicate the cozy goodness from my youth. Cabbage rolls and corned beef are up there in the "have to make before Christmas" category. Perogies, too. You might almost think we had some Russian/Ukrainian heritage, but we don't. Not that I'm aware of anyhow...

On the cold, clear Saturday that found us out and about last weekend, I stopped by my brother-in-law's butcher shop to satisfy Mike's craving for "Uncle Pasquale's sausages"...it also struck me right then to buy a roast (which I cook about once a year) and a brisket to make corned beef. Funny how the weather can make you impulse buy!

At any rate, I knew that if I left the brisket in the freezer for later (an undetermined amount of time that usually translates into many months from now), I would be kicking myself come the real wintery days that are just around the corner. I rolled up my sleeves and got it started that very same day - how proud I am of myself!! In 3 weeks it will be corned beef sandwiches, reubens (minus the sauerkraut) and hash galore around here.
It's not pretty now, but it will be soon!



Oh, and I'll get to try out that new slicer mom & dad brought us on their last visit...who'd have thought appliances and pickled meat would get me so excited??

Giving credit where credit is due

All too often I finding myself telling the kids that they're too young to try the myriad things they see us doing - sewing, crocheting, knitting, cooking, fly tying...you get the idea. It breaks my heart to see diappointment on those little faces. I think, more often than not, it's not the fact that they're too young that prevents me jumping in and letting them try. It's the fact that I'm not patient enough (and that I don't want to pass on my perfectionist nature).

Last spring, I told Jordan that she was too young to learn how to crochet. She spent one afternoon with her aunt and lo and behold - crocheted circular coasters for her teacher gift. Knitting was next. I am no expert knitter, to be sure and told her that I wasn't sure she had enough coordination for TWO needles when I was only beginning to get the hang of it. Home from school comes a blanket for a Barbie doll. Apparently, Miss K could teach 18 of them to knit all at the same time. J then proceeded to teach Maya how to finger knit (we have many, many bracelets now).

In the spring, I begrudgingly told Jordan I would help her quilt a centerpiece for her aunt's birthday. She did beautifully (thank goodness for the speed control on the machine!).

Mike has been teaching the girls how to tie flies. I love it when Maya says, "wooly bugger"!

Jordan did make a point that the girls in "Little House on the Prairie" could sew at a very young age and that I just have to let them TRY. That is my goal for this fall and winter.

Oh, and more knitting than just scarves. I can't wait to wear this one that I made from some great wool that I picked up in Colville. The baby poo yellow colour doesn't do it for me, but I love the feel of this and the hurdle stitch was super easy. Knit 2 rows, seed stitch 2 rows, repeat until the end of your rope!

We can do anything if we TRI!

It arrived - June 28th. The day circled in red on the calendar since my friends and I decided in January that this would be something fun. It was bigger than fun, it was AMAZING. The location (Christina Lake, BC), the volunteers, the "goody bag" (we were digging in there before the pre-race meeting even started), the spectators and good friends all served to provide a great first sprint triathlon experience.

The day before, I picked Rachelle up and we checked into our motel at Christina Lake. I didn't feel very nervous at all, surprisingly. We kept telling ourselves that we were well prepared and that it would inevitably be what it would be. Went to the package pick-up down at the lake at 5:30 and, due to the alphabetization of the racers' surnames, I found my race number to be 1. Irony. Sarah was 69...more laughter. How old are we?

The pre-race meeting was informative and reassured us that we weren't the only newbies in the crowd. I think we figured about 1/3 of the field raised their hands when the race director asked who was about to do their first triathlon. Went over the rules, routes and we were off to find supper. Finding supper was almost as hard as the race...Saturday night at 7:15 and it would be an hour and a half wait in the nearly empty pub. The adjoining family restaurant with maybe 6 tables was full with an hour wait to sit. The grocery store was empty of anything that was remotely dinner-like and neither of us was thinking that pizza would be a good choice. Same for the perogies from Cecil's Perogie hut across the road. We drove down to the outdoor burger & ice cream joint where Rachelle narrowly dodged a corn dog, but had a lovely inexpensive dinner and managed not to get indigestion. I told Rachelle about Mike's half-marathon dinner and the wrath it incurred on him on race morning. Apparently, hot chorizo sausage in jambalaya is NOT the way to go. Got us killing ourselves laughing and singing The Carpenter's "Jambalaya" all the way home at his expense, though.

Race morning was beautiful and sunny - cool in the shade, but already very warm in the sun. We got up at 7, showered and had bagels and peanut butter for breakfast. Sipped an electrolyte drink and tried to swallow the nerves that had surfaced. So close to being sick. Got our stuff loaded - after checking and double checking - and went off to the races, so to speak.
Found a nice spot to set up on the curb of the parking lot that the transition area was in, so we managed to put our gear out of the way beside the curb and not right under our bikes. Filled a bucket with water to wash our feet, laid out our towels and shoes, helmets and glasses, extra water and went off to body marking. Checked in, got our numbers on and went to the beach to watch the kids do their swim leg. Very cute & they were just as nervous as we were it seemed. After they got through transition, we were back up to get wetsuits, caps & goggles. Met the husbands and kids at the beach for a visit and then went for a dip in the lake. A balmy 21 degrees in the water. Did a little swim and then got out to join the masses (106 swimmers) for the beach entry swim leg. Wished each other luck with hugs and high-fives and we were off.

Off is right. Nothing we had done had prepared us for that open water swim. I got a snort of lake water in the first half a minute and was coughing and sputtering. The woman next to me was gasping for air and seeming like she wasn't getting any. Legs, arms, heads, splashing. Tried to get my face in and relax, but the body was having none of that. More of a panicky feeling set in very quickly and I flipped to my back to try and get a handle on things. This got me kicked in the top of the head rather than in the face, but it was a bit better. The crowd thinned out and I gave the freestyle another go. No go. My brain was not cooperating with the slow relaxed breathing I had visualized. Face out, breaststroke, gulp of the lake and more burping than is ladylike to describe. Back to the backstroke. That's how I finished the swim. All the while, I was more than upset with myself and actually contemplated bailing out. I then realized that I was on the home stretch and that there were several people (not 105, mind you) still behind me. Got out of the water to the cheers of the spectators and attempted to get the blasted wetsuit off. Hats off to those who opt for a full arm, full leg suit. I had more than enough trouble with a shorty. Got to transition, calmed down a bit and hit the bike.

The slight uphill on the way out saw my legs cramping and my heart racing, but I was feeling on top of the world at that point with what I figured would be the worst behind me. The 6% grade, 900m hill loomed large and I geared down a bit too fast. The cramps left and I put my head down and didn't look up until I saw a friend coming from behind ... on her SECOND lap of the 4 lap 20km course. She's a crackerjack swimmer, though, and I suspected she'd be waaaaay out ahead of me. Got to the top of the hill and started down. The beauty of the course was that there was a good portion of downhill back to the lake that allowed the body to recover a bit from the climb. Took the last 90 degree corner a bit too fast and heard cries of, "Oh no!" and many many gasps as I narrowly missed the hood of a van that was moving to the side of the road. That was the same corner that later saw a very experienced cyclist spill and be taken away in an ambulance unconscious. Got the adrenaline going, however! Second lap was good until I heard a funny rubbing noise and wondered why my legs weren't extending all the way in the downstroke. My seat had come loose somehow and fallen to the bottom. The rubbing was my "toolkit" on the back tire. Had to stop to pull it back out and realized that not only was it not a quick release, but it took 2 sizes of allen keys to tighten. The only thing NOT in my kit (I even had a crescent wrench should the back tire need removing). I just gave it a good wiggle back up and did my best to stand on the downhill and push back on the uphill. It held and I finished the bike in fairly good time, I thought.

T2 was quick, as I didn't have to change my shoes for the run. Just had to park the bike, take off the helmet and go. It was a 5 km out and back course along the lake with water stations at 1 km, 2.5 km and 4km. The one hill had the first (and third) water station and I hesitated to stop lest I not get going again, so I grabbed, sipped, doused and kept going. Saw Rachelle coming back around the 2km mark and felt so pleased that she was having a good race. Passed a couple of people on the way back, and I was surprised at the pleasure that gave me. Got a large burst of energy around 3km that only gave out the last hundred meters or so as I came around the corner to see the cheering crowd and my little family with their arms out for hugs. They settled for high-fives and I got across the finish line feeling fantastic at about 2 hours even. I lost track of the splits on my watch, so I'm not sure of my exact times....will have to check them when they're posted.

Post race hugs, laughter, cookies and then it was time to pack up to head home. Fell asleep in the car, had a shower and a couple of phone calls and then fell asleep in a lawn chair in the driveway watching the kids ride their bikes. There they left me and I'd probably still be there were it not for the ants that made their way up my leg into my shorts.

Do it again? Hell yes!