My family always accuses me of writing depressing poetry. But that’s not true! I’ve written many funny or random things in the past. For example, there’s my poem called “The Challenge.” And there’s also my poem about Chinese buns!
Now here’s a new one! It’s dedicated to my office plant. I originally bought the plant from Walmart when I was living in Ottawa and feeling a bit down. The thing had become my staunch companion and has survived being moved from Ottawa to Owen Sound to Toronto to Owen Sound to Montreal. It’s obviously very hardy.
I was first struck with the idea of writing a haiku to it.
Droopy potted plant
Seeks to brighten grey office.
Monday. New week starts.
And then I was inspired to continue writing about it, so I went into a free verse poem.
My little sad plant holds the darkness at bay.
It strives ever upward, spreading magnificence
Against austere white walls and corporate gleam.
It hushes the cold whir of electronics
And clamours for you to pause,
To admire its emerald splendour.
My little sad plant, ever loyal,
Helps me to get through day after day.
And then I was still inspired, so I changed it into a rhyming couplet.
Against my office’s austere white walls and corporate gleam,
A splash of colour interrupts the scheme.
My little potted plant holds the dreariness at bay.
Emerald elegance it does convey.
Its very stillness clamours for you to pause,
To admire it. Why? Just because.
It strives to brighten our day
Through colour, beauty, and every way.
My little sad plant, staunch friend,
We’ll be together till the very end.
My favourite parts of the poem:
- corporate gleam
- “Its very stillness clamours for you to pause”
In the second last line I originally described it as my “staunch companion.” I like that word better, but I couldn’t find a nice rhyme to end it with.
So there you go. Not everything that I write is sad and depressing!
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Backsliding
I am carnivore! Hear me roar! MEOW! Okay, so maybe I’m not a raging meat-eater. I’m more of a fledging carnivore now. You can say that I ate my “flexitarian” ideals this week.
Hang on a second… What the hell is a flexitarian? That my dear friends, is a “flexible vegetarian.” You know, that thing that I’ve been since July.
Last summer my niece decided to become vegetarian. I was inspired to do the same. My last vegetarian experience was in high school. I went for 6 weeks without meat. I finally quit because I was tired of making my own meals.
I figured that now that I was older, and that I cooked for myself all the time anyways, that I could probably handle doing the veggie thing. I posted that I was going to become a veggiesaurus on Facebook and was immediately mocked by everyone I knew, but I was determined to prove them all wrong.
My vegetarian resolution lasted 12 hours.
The very next day I was invited to a group lunch at work. I was eager to meet my colleagues and agreed. Except that our meal was being ordered from St-Hubert’s… Which had no vegetarian options available. I certainly didn’t want to make a fuss, so I just shut my mouth and gnawed away on my chicken bones.
Later that night I did some research on vegetarianism, etc. and I came across the term, “Flexitarian” which meant that you consciously made the attempt to eat mainly vegetarian dishes, but could eat meat too. My personal stance became, “I shall eat only vegetarian in my apartment but will eat meat when I go to restaurants, etc.”
Honestly, this method worked really well. I’ve bought probably less than $50 worth of meat in the past 6 months and I’ve learned how to cook a wide variety of other veggie dishes.
However, there comes a point when you just can’t face another bowl of lentils! You can only cook beans in so many ways! You just cannot endure any more cheese! (Surprisingly, I didn’t eat that much tofu – although I did find an amazing tofu parmigana recipe!)
This past week I finally gave up and started buying meat. I have missed the variety of textures and flavours that meat has to offer. I also have missed using my recipe books, most of which are focused on meat.
That being said, I vow to make an effort to cook vegetarian once a week. (And no, this declaration is not spurred on by the fact that I still have bags of dried beans and lentils in my cupboard. Really.)
Hang on a second… What the hell is a flexitarian? That my dear friends, is a “flexible vegetarian.” You know, that thing that I’ve been since July.
Last summer my niece decided to become vegetarian. I was inspired to do the same. My last vegetarian experience was in high school. I went for 6 weeks without meat. I finally quit because I was tired of making my own meals.
I figured that now that I was older, and that I cooked for myself all the time anyways, that I could probably handle doing the veggie thing. I posted that I was going to become a veggiesaurus on Facebook and was immediately mocked by everyone I knew, but I was determined to prove them all wrong.
My vegetarian resolution lasted 12 hours.
The very next day I was invited to a group lunch at work. I was eager to meet my colleagues and agreed. Except that our meal was being ordered from St-Hubert’s… Which had no vegetarian options available. I certainly didn’t want to make a fuss, so I just shut my mouth and gnawed away on my chicken bones.
Later that night I did some research on vegetarianism, etc. and I came across the term, “Flexitarian” which meant that you consciously made the attempt to eat mainly vegetarian dishes, but could eat meat too. My personal stance became, “I shall eat only vegetarian in my apartment but will eat meat when I go to restaurants, etc.”
Honestly, this method worked really well. I’ve bought probably less than $50 worth of meat in the past 6 months and I’ve learned how to cook a wide variety of other veggie dishes.
However, there comes a point when you just can’t face another bowl of lentils! You can only cook beans in so many ways! You just cannot endure any more cheese! (Surprisingly, I didn’t eat that much tofu – although I did find an amazing tofu parmigana recipe!)
This past week I finally gave up and started buying meat. I have missed the variety of textures and flavours that meat has to offer. I also have missed using my recipe books, most of which are focused on meat.
That being said, I vow to make an effort to cook vegetarian once a week. (And no, this declaration is not spurred on by the fact that I still have bags of dried beans and lentils in my cupboard. Really.)
Friday, January 08, 2010
Conquering fears
One of my secret fears in life is seaweed. If I'm at a lake or someplace else where the bottom of the water is NOT covered by sand, I get creeped out when stuff touches the bottoms of my feet. Or, if I'm in a boat, I can't help but imagine it capsizing and the seaweed reaching up, wrapping around my legs, and pulling me under.
This past Christmas, I got the opportunity to mix my personal fear of seaweed and the generic fear of suffocation by being trapped under ice. I crossed the Moosonee Ice Road. I assure you, it was great fuel for nightmares.
Every winter, the Moose River freezes over. The ice grows so thick that you can literally driver cars over it. Now, it's one thing to know this in theory, but another to see it in practice. While walking by the river bank in Moosonee with my family, I could see cars, snowmobiles and people walking across the water. I'll admit that a part of me wanted to cross the river, but another part of me was terrified by the idea of it. Either my family could tell that I wanted to try it, or they just wanted some entertainment by watching me freak out, but they decided to drag me across the ice to the island of Moose Factory.
You see, my mom and sisters grew up in Moosonee. For them the ice road is a normal part of life. Me? I'm from the South. Down here, only idiots and ice fishers go out on top of the ice. Heck, prior to this Christmas, the last time I was on ice that wasn't a skating rink was when I was 12 years old, fooling around on my friend's frozen pond and fell through the ice. (And then the next day I managed to fall into an abandoned well.)
We piled into the vehicle. They were "gracious" enough to let me have the front seat (AKA they wanted me to have a better view with which to freak out better). Immediately when June, my eldest sister who was driving, turned off the land road to start descending the river bank we were confronted with a giant yellow road block at the bottom of the bank and beyond that you can see a bit of broken ice in the water. It was like a sign from God saying, "Hey IDIOTS! There's frozen water beyond this point! Turn back or I'll get all Darwin on your asses!" Apparently the road block was just there to indicate that you weren't supposed to drive directly forward - you had to turn left and look for a better spot to get on to the ice.
So before I could completely chicken out, we drove on to the ice. I swear, my heart was beating faster than when I parachuted from 12,000 feet. I was operating on pure adrenaline for the entire experience! I am not ashamed to admit that I was secretly reviewing every TV show I've seen on how to escape from a sunken vehicle. (Meaning, roll down the window slowly, let the car fill up with water until the last possible moment, etc.)
I was surprised by how bumpy the ride was - the ice and surface snow had created some truly amazing craters (err, pot holes) that we had to dodge. Half way across the river, they pulled the car over and made me get out and stand on the ice. Now the amusing thing about getting out of the car is that they thought I'd be more freaked out by standing directly on the ice. Hell, my only thoughts were along the line of "Oh thank god I'm out of the heavy vehicle which is much more likely to plunge into the frozen depths than little ol' me!" We took a couple of photos before jumping back in the car.
While continuing our drive, one smartass pointed out the giant cracks that we were driving over. June joked and said that they were fault lines. Can you see how cruel my family is? Trying to rile me up even more than I already was? I won't be surprised if I need therapy in a few years.
I think the most terrifying part of the experience was getting up and down the Moose Factory side of the river. When we got to the other river bank, there was a great deal of water on top of the ice - to me it looked like the ice was broken and water had bubbled to the top (which was partially true). I had the lovely opportunity to watch a taxi ahead of us have trouble ascending the river bank - it was so slippery/icy that it kept sliding around before it finally made it up. Next it was our turn.
Oh my god. We literally had to drive through a foot of water to get to the river bank. June slowed down the vehicle to go through it so that she wouldn't splash it up into her engine. I wasn't aware of this thought process though. My mind was running more to the idea that we needed to get up to launching speed! We made it across the small expanse of water and started going up the river bank... Only to have the same problem as the taxi. Our car, with all-wheel drive, started sliding BACKWARDS towards a bad patch of water we had avoided! I honestly thought we were going to end up in the water. When I get extremely nervous, I sometimes get really quiet. While mounting the river bank, I don't think I was even breathing in my effort not to make noise! However, we made it! Safe and sound!
While at Moose Factory we stopped at a couple of stores. I kept looking for a life jacket so that I could joke that I wanted it for the ride back, but with now luck. At one of the stores we ran into my Uncle Terry. My mom told me about my quest for a life jacket and helpfully he reminded us, "Oh, you don't have to worry about drowning - the hypothermia will get you first." Yeah. Reeeeaaaal helpful there!
The trip back to Moosonee was almost just as bad. First of all, by the time we returned, it was full dark out and with the exception of our headlights, there were no other lights to help guide our way. We couldn't even see the lights of Moosonee across the river because there was another small island in the way!
The worst part of the return trip was getting down the stupid slippery river bank again. Remember how I mentioned that we had slid down it backwards? Yeah, well this time we started sliding down it forwards! My middle sister and I were practically ready to get out and offer to push the damned car back onto the proper track! By some miracle of miracles, we managed to avoid sliding into the water and got "safely" on the ice.
While driving across the black expanse of ice it was pitch black. When we finally passed the small island that was blocking our view of Moosonee and could see the lights of the town I cried out, "Oh thank God, civilization!" Everyone laughed because most of the time, I tend to be derisive of Moosonee - calling a city of 5000 people "civilized" is a big concession on my part.
By the time we finally made it back to land on the Moosonee side, I was ready to drop down and kiss the ground. I honestly cannot express how nervous I was about the drive across. I knew that the chances of anything happening weren't very big, after all, they check the depth of the ice regularly, plows go out on the river to clear the road, etc. But I couldn't help the pitter patter of my heart nor the shocky state of my nerves. Despite my fears, I survived. What should I do for my next adventure? Wrangle alligators? Walk barefoot across coals? We’ll just have to wait and see.
This past Christmas, I got the opportunity to mix my personal fear of seaweed and the generic fear of suffocation by being trapped under ice. I crossed the Moosonee Ice Road. I assure you, it was great fuel for nightmares.
Every winter, the Moose River freezes over. The ice grows so thick that you can literally driver cars over it. Now, it's one thing to know this in theory, but another to see it in practice. While walking by the river bank in Moosonee with my family, I could see cars, snowmobiles and people walking across the water. I'll admit that a part of me wanted to cross the river, but another part of me was terrified by the idea of it. Either my family could tell that I wanted to try it, or they just wanted some entertainment by watching me freak out, but they decided to drag me across the ice to the island of Moose Factory.
You see, my mom and sisters grew up in Moosonee. For them the ice road is a normal part of life. Me? I'm from the South. Down here, only idiots and ice fishers go out on top of the ice. Heck, prior to this Christmas, the last time I was on ice that wasn't a skating rink was when I was 12 years old, fooling around on my friend's frozen pond and fell through the ice. (And then the next day I managed to fall into an abandoned well.)
We piled into the vehicle. They were "gracious" enough to let me have the front seat (AKA they wanted me to have a better view with which to freak out better). Immediately when June, my eldest sister who was driving, turned off the land road to start descending the river bank we were confronted with a giant yellow road block at the bottom of the bank and beyond that you can see a bit of broken ice in the water. It was like a sign from God saying, "Hey IDIOTS! There's frozen water beyond this point! Turn back or I'll get all Darwin on your asses!" Apparently the road block was just there to indicate that you weren't supposed to drive directly forward - you had to turn left and look for a better spot to get on to the ice.
So before I could completely chicken out, we drove on to the ice. I swear, my heart was beating faster than when I parachuted from 12,000 feet. I was operating on pure adrenaline for the entire experience! I am not ashamed to admit that I was secretly reviewing every TV show I've seen on how to escape from a sunken vehicle. (Meaning, roll down the window slowly, let the car fill up with water until the last possible moment, etc.)
I was surprised by how bumpy the ride was - the ice and surface snow had created some truly amazing craters (err, pot holes) that we had to dodge. Half way across the river, they pulled the car over and made me get out and stand on the ice. Now the amusing thing about getting out of the car is that they thought I'd be more freaked out by standing directly on the ice. Hell, my only thoughts were along the line of "Oh thank god I'm out of the heavy vehicle which is much more likely to plunge into the frozen depths than little ol' me!" We took a couple of photos before jumping back in the car.
While continuing our drive, one smartass pointed out the giant cracks that we were driving over. June joked and said that they were fault lines. Can you see how cruel my family is? Trying to rile me up even more than I already was? I won't be surprised if I need therapy in a few years.
I think the most terrifying part of the experience was getting up and down the Moose Factory side of the river. When we got to the other river bank, there was a great deal of water on top of the ice - to me it looked like the ice was broken and water had bubbled to the top (which was partially true). I had the lovely opportunity to watch a taxi ahead of us have trouble ascending the river bank - it was so slippery/icy that it kept sliding around before it finally made it up. Next it was our turn.
Oh my god. We literally had to drive through a foot of water to get to the river bank. June slowed down the vehicle to go through it so that she wouldn't splash it up into her engine. I wasn't aware of this thought process though. My mind was running more to the idea that we needed to get up to launching speed! We made it across the small expanse of water and started going up the river bank... Only to have the same problem as the taxi. Our car, with all-wheel drive, started sliding BACKWARDS towards a bad patch of water we had avoided! I honestly thought we were going to end up in the water. When I get extremely nervous, I sometimes get really quiet. While mounting the river bank, I don't think I was even breathing in my effort not to make noise! However, we made it! Safe and sound!
While at Moose Factory we stopped at a couple of stores. I kept looking for a life jacket so that I could joke that I wanted it for the ride back, but with now luck. At one of the stores we ran into my Uncle Terry. My mom told me about my quest for a life jacket and helpfully he reminded us, "Oh, you don't have to worry about drowning - the hypothermia will get you first." Yeah. Reeeeaaaal helpful there!
The trip back to Moosonee was almost just as bad. First of all, by the time we returned, it was full dark out and with the exception of our headlights, there were no other lights to help guide our way. We couldn't even see the lights of Moosonee across the river because there was another small island in the way!
The worst part of the return trip was getting down the stupid slippery river bank again. Remember how I mentioned that we had slid down it backwards? Yeah, well this time we started sliding down it forwards! My middle sister and I were practically ready to get out and offer to push the damned car back onto the proper track! By some miracle of miracles, we managed to avoid sliding into the water and got "safely" on the ice.
While driving across the black expanse of ice it was pitch black. When we finally passed the small island that was blocking our view of Moosonee and could see the lights of the town I cried out, "Oh thank God, civilization!" Everyone laughed because most of the time, I tend to be derisive of Moosonee - calling a city of 5000 people "civilized" is a big concession on my part.
By the time we finally made it back to land on the Moosonee side, I was ready to drop down and kiss the ground. I honestly cannot express how nervous I was about the drive across. I knew that the chances of anything happening weren't very big, after all, they check the depth of the ice regularly, plows go out on the river to clear the road, etc. But I couldn't help the pitter patter of my heart nor the shocky state of my nerves. Despite my fears, I survived. What should I do for my next adventure? Wrangle alligators? Walk barefoot across coals? We’ll just have to wait and see.
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