My thumbs are not green

We don't have good luck with houseplants in our apartment. I'd like to blame it on the physical environment that I cannot change because the only other explanation is that it's me.

Randy bought me a rose plant for Valentine's day two years ago and it was the cutest little plant with small, pink flowers. I tended it with care but noticed one day that it was covered with something that looked like cobwebs. Hmmm. On closer inspection I discovered that it also had aphids. In fact, so did our other house plants. Aphids and I go back a while - back to my days of doing field work for Pioneer. The canola was covered in aphids and as a result so were we. Our sweaty, sunscreen-slathered skin would be covered with them and when it was time to re-apply the sunscreen there was no choice but to smear the little aphid bodies all over your skin. I accepted them in the field, but in my apartment it was another matter. And what's with the cobwebs?

I emailed a green-thumbed friend of mine and she diagnosed spider mites! I mixed up a home remedy in a spray bottle and went to town. It did the trick and the mites and aphids died ... and so did the plants. Maybe I overdid it. Apparently rose plants are very difficult to keep inside so I felt like I did well keeping it almost a year. The ivy on the other hand ...

Here's the rose plant just before things went bad. I guess the mushrooms should have been a sign.

I learned that jade plants are susceptible to root rot if over-watered. Oopsies. I killed it with love.






I also learned that houseplants do not need a holiday outside. But look (on the right) - a new shoot!


I think this is what a cactus looks like when it's trying to run away:

On Valentine's last year Randy asked the florist what type of plant was easy to keep and he came home with a jade plant. Jade plant #2.

 I've been very careful not to over-water it ... and yet it still looks like this now. <sigh>

I refuse to read anything into these experiences about my nurturing abilities. A dog or goat would be much easier to keep. If it was hungry, I'd hear about it. If it was over-fed, it would be obvious before it suddenly started dropping off body parts.

Hopefully the jade plant survives but if not I'll be looking forward to jade plant #3 on Valentine's day. Third time's the charm, right?

Zumba!!

I love zumba. Every time I come back from a class Randy comments that I have a big smile on my face. Zumba is a dance-inspired fitness class, so it's basically just aerobics with more dance moves (but not necessarily more coordination) and fun, mostly Latin dance music. You might do a bit of salsa, then a squat or two, then jump around. Part of what makes the class so great is the instructor - I really like her choice of music and choreography. Of course she makes everything look good, and it feels like you're following along exactly, and then you look in the mirror ... and have a laugh. I have the same issue with zumba that I did with ballet in that from the waist down (well, maybe hips down in this case because there's a fair bit of booty shaking) I'm pretty good but my upper half always just looks like a flailing scarecrow. Example:

My favourite zumba song is a samba remix of A-ha's Take on Me (you can find zumba videos to this song online if you're curious). We also do a fun dance to Shakira's Waka Waka (This Time for Africa). I was recently out in public dancing with some friends and one of the zumba songs came on! I was so disappointed in myself because I couldn't remember our zumba dance and so had to just bop on the dancefloor like everyone else.

I was trying to explain to Randy after my last class just what I like about it so much and he thought that it's like being a little girl again - free to jump around. I challenge you to put some fun music on and jump around with your arms in the air and not have a smile on your face!

Some goat time!

I got to spend some quality time with goats on our holiday! We visited the Blue Heron French Cheese Company in Tillamook, Oregon where I was excited to discover that they keep goats and sheep! I patiently waited until all the little kids had had enough, then I had the goats to myself. I knew just where this guy wanted to be scratched:

He also wanted food so I bought a little feed bag for $1. They're clever goats and they know how the system works: one distracted me while another one made a grab for the feed bag. My reflexes are quicker than a 5-year olds so I was able to foil the plan - the bag ripped but the feed didn't spill. I rewarded them with a big handful.

We had another animal encounter while camping on the coast. I had left my wet bathing suit on the picnic table overnight and I woke up to discover this:

A dirty suit. I admit I had the fleeting thought that someone (not naming names) might have dropped it on the ground and picked it up without wiping it off. But then I had a closer look and saw this:

 

A raccoon print. (It doesn't show up very well in the photo.) It must have been looking for food scraps on the table and just happened to prance all over my suit. I also got to pet a sea lion!

 

And now I'm back in our apartment in the city where the only other living things are the occasional spider and the house plants we have yet to kill.

I love my wetsuit!! And the coast guard.

My first coastal windsurfing experience turned into a bit of an adventure!

------------Spoiler alert! -----------------
I was never in grave danger and it all ended happily.
----------------------------------------------

We sailed for one day in Hood River, OR, as per usual, then went to Oceanside on the coast for some wave sailing. It was a struggle getting into position to launch but once I was set I made it out through the beach break in one go. I was having fun sailing out in the rollers for a while but the current and wind were taking me gradually down the beach. However, I was staying close to Randy and the other windsurfer on the water. Then I had a bad reach. The wind had picked up and my sail was now too big and the wind was gusty and turbulent. Instead of pushing me nicely along the wind now kept stopping me up and I lost a lot of ground in one reach. I wanted to come back to shore but the thought of making it back through the shore break when I could barely sail was a wee bit terrifying. I tried to go for it a couple times but ended up back in the water. I thought of ditching the sail and riding the board in on my stomach but figured if I was going to ditch the sail anyway I might as well try to get in with it. (Breaking waves are dangerous for the gear because the mast can get skewered into the ground and break, ripping the sail in the process.)

Randy had now walked down the beach to where I was and was watching my progress. Hmmm, "progress" probably isn't the best word to use. He could only see me when my sail was in the air because of the waves. Then a big wave broke on me and I let go of the gear in the turbulence. Just for a second. It ended up not too far from me and I tried swimming to it but the waves kept pushing it farther and farther away. I couldn't swim very efficiently with my life jacket on but didn't exactly want to take it off ... so after several minutes of chasing the gear I decided I should just head for shore.

By this time Randy hadn't seen my sail in a while (and either had I for that matter) and he became really concerned and called 911. Meanwhile I was bobbing along, swimming to shore. I had a thick wetsuit with hood and booties and a lifejacket so I was warm enough, it was just slow swimming in all that getup and the strong current was pulling me down the beach into a bay. After a while I saw emergency vehicles go by with their sirens on in the direction of the beach I had set sail from. I thought, "Oh crap, I hope that's not for me." And I kept swimming. There were people on shore who were keeping pace with my drifting down the beach so I thought I was in sight. I came to a sand bar at one point and could run towards shore in waist deep water between waves, then was in deeper water again. I was so close to shore at this point but progress towards shore was very slow because of the current at the entrance to the bay. A couple jet skis sped past me but I couldn't see if they were coast guard or not. They didn't seem to notice me; I thought of waving to them but was so close to shore at this point and I didn't want to bother them if they were just touring around or coast guard off to save a drowning person.

Someone jumped in a kayak and came out to meet me but by the time he got to me I was able to touch the ground so just walked in. He seemed disappointed that I didn't need a tow. Then there was a bit of a commotion on the beach and people told me that there was a windsurfer missing in Oceanside. I told them that it might be me. There was no cell reception so we went into a little store to use the phone and I talked to the coast guard and confirmed that I was okay. A guy who lived in Oceanside offered to drive me back (he had been kiting earlier but had stopped because the wind was so unusual. He does polar expeditions! http://www.polarcircles.com/) and a few minutes later we pulled into the parking lot where Randy was waiting with a bunch of emergency workers. I knew he was so worried about me that he wouldn't care that I didn't know where all the windsurfing gear was!

The other good news is that the nice guy in the kayak (friend of the guy who drove me back) found my gear bobbing along in the bay! It was pretty far out so he apparently asked the coast guard people to get it with their jet ski. It was waiting for us beside the boat ramp in the bay. I guess they can add that to our bill?!

My only injury was this. I'll let you guess what body part this is.


We're going to get radios before my next coastal sail!

In the next blog: a goat encounter!

Goatmilkinggirl is a master of science

I successfully defended my master's thesis! Sadly my master's is not in goat milking; it's in biomechanics. <sigh> At the defense I gave a 20-minute presentation and then audience members had the opportunity to ask questions before the examiners began their questioning. Randy raised his hand. My supervisor said afterwards that he had never seen a spouse ask a question before. I was able to answer the question; we are still married.

As well as writing and defending my thesis, I thought it would be fun to sew a dress to wear to my defense. I admit now that it turned into a slightly bigger project than I had thought it would be... but I finished the dress with several days to spare. During the project the kitchen table looked like this for several weeks and so we ate on the couch:

Here I am, post-defense, enjoying a well-earned beer in my dress in the sunshine. The pattern is from a local pattern-maker and seamstress and it's called the Cambie dress after the Cambie street that we live on.


Enjoying a beer in front of our building.

My Cambie dress.



















After finishing the dress I sewed book bags as thank you gifts for my supervisor and another researcher who was incredibly helpful. I used lining fabric with little whales on it because they both study whales (unfortunately the straps hide them in the photo). The bags have a subtle geekiness - the dividing line between the two fabrics is the shape of the curve on one of the plots in my thesis.

Masculine version (whale lining is there, just not visible).

Book bag with whale lining.

The inspiration for the bag design.

 

And then I promised Randy no more projects for the rest of the summer. Well, maybe just a little one; he won't even notice.

 

My biking mojo

I've got my biking mojo back! I had lost it for a while but I've got it back now.

When I first starting mountain biking in Vancouver I had to really push myself. The trails seemed full of big, slippery roots waiting to stop my front tire while I sailed over the handlebars and rocks with drops to certain death on the other side. Yes, I exaggerate. I don't do anything extreme I'm just a bit of a chicken.

I had been steadily improving over the years and then I met Randy, who was not a mountain biker at the time (but he was a skier so was acceptable). After he got a mountain bike I went back to the more beginner-ish trails with him and settled happily into my comfort zone.  But I noticed that there were certain things he could do, seemingly naturally, that I had had to learn. When I commented on this he said, "Didn't you jump your bike off the curb when you were a kid?" No, I did not. That might have upset my basket or dislodged my streamers.

Randy steadily improved and quickly passed me in ability, except for the uphill technical parts - I still had him there. Granted my bike is lighter and made more for climbing than his, but let's not over-analyze the situation.

Then last year I lost my mojo. I stopped riding over things I'd been riding for years. I took it easy before our wedding because I didn't want to be hobbling down the aisle on crutches and after the wedding I just never got it back. I was getting worse while Randy was getting better; he even had me on the uphills. He must have stolen my mojo!

At the beginning of this year it was still gone but there was the Maui trip to think about. It would have been a shame to get injured just before the trip.

Now it's finally back!

I had been starting to wonder if my mojo was gone because I'm approaching (just approaching, not quite there yet) that age where I consider more thoroughly the consequences of my actions and start to take things easy. No, can't be that. It's much better to blame it on Randy.

Hair Advice

I just applied for a new passport as my current one is about to expire, which meant getting passport photos taken. (I need the passport for travelling to the states – no exotic trips planned!) Let me first describe what happened when I got my last set of passport photos taken 5 years ago.  I had biked to the photographer’s on a warm, July day. At the shop I took off my helmet, ran my fingers through my hair and sat down on the stool. The photographer looked at me then said with a thick, Eastern European accent, “Fix your hair some more please.” I started to laugh and did as he requested. Then he said, “No smiling please.” Right, can’t be looking happy in a passport photo. And we ended up with this:

This time I planned ahead and even washed my hair the night before so it would be dry and nice-looking when I got the photos done in the morning. Yes, I do have a hairdryer but I rarely use it and, believe it or not, didn’t even think of just using it to dry my hair in the morning. I woke up with nice dry hair … that was going in every direction because of sleeping on it wet! Oops. I solved this problem by pulling half of my hair back away from my face, the way I’ve worn it at least 75% of the time all my life. I got to the photographer's (different photographer, different accent), gave my hair the pat down and sat on the stool. He looked at me and said, “Pull your hair in front more, over your ears.” I did, and he said, “That looks better.” That looks better?! I’ve been wearing my hair that way for years! I won’t need another passport for 5 years so now I’m going to have to wait 5 years to get more unsolicited hair advice!

Holiday Hangover

Randy and I are suffering from a holiday hangover now that we're back in the city and our view is of this:                                                instead of this:









The day after we arrived back from Maui was Randy's birthday - not a good day for a first day back in reality. Well, sort of back in reality. I went into school that morning, socialized at Friday morning doughnut and coffee-time, had a meeting about my thesis where I received my first set of reviews, then ... took off and went windsurfing in Squamish. (Good thing my supervisor doesn't read this.) Randy had been working from home and the wind was just too tempting on a sunny birthday afternoon. And of course I didn't want him to spend his birthday alone. But in Squamish I had to wrestle myself into my thick wetsuit to go in the cold, brownish water, and there were no turtles. I have a feeling I'm not getting any sympathy here...

The next day we just couldn't get motivated and didn't leave our apartment until 9 pm when we finally went out for a walk! The following week the hangover continued as we struggled to get into the swing of things at work and adjust to the time change. Still no sympathy?

Then in the middle of the week I got a migraine. How about a little bit of sympathy now? It wasn't a bad one - I get a visual migraine followed by a little bit of headache and nausea - but it knocked me out for the evening. I did manage to cook dinner that night (thought I should get that on record); we had mushrooms with sausage and gnocchi. I list the mushrooms first because they were the main ingredient. I meant to put some of them in the pan but I was distracted by not being able to see properly while I was chopping and managed to chop a whole bag of them. When I get a migraine everything in the centre of my vision looks pixelated and shifted around. During my first migraine I was only seeing in 2D! That was kind of neat. I was sitting on a bench outside during my lunch break watching people walk by and when they went behind a lamppost it looked like they were disappearing <poof> then reappearing on the other side. I was enjoying the show for a while then I started to get worried about what was wrong with me. Was I having a stroke? I went inside to google my symptoms, as you do when you think you're having a stroke, but I couldn't log into my computer because half of the screen was blank. What were the chances of my computer malfunctioning while I was having a stroke? Then I realized that I was just not aware of anything on my left side. With each migraine the fun, visual aura part seems to be decreasing and the pain and nausea increasing. Luckily I only get one or two a year.

The Friday of that first, long week back I went to school but forgot my computer at home. Some days that wouldn't be a big deal but my latest copy of my thesis was only on that computer so ... back home I went. (Note to self: back up files more often.) By that afternoon my productivity on my never-ending thesis had ground to a halt and my spirits were low. It was definitely time for a pick-me-up! No, not alcohol, something even better: cleaning while listening and singing along to Garth Brooks! I followed that up with some zumba in the living room (which I love - separate blog on that another day) and I was good to go. Randy came home from work while I was in the middle of a zumba dance - lucky for him the Garth Brooks was over.

Hawaii

I handed in a draft of my thesis to my supervisor on a Friday, finished sewing a bikini on the Saturday, and hopped on a plane to Hawaii on the Sunday! We spent 2.5 wonderful weeks in Maui for a windsurfing holiday with a honeymoon finale.

For the first two weeks we rented a house in the hippie beach town of Paia with 5 friends and travelled around in an increasingly sandy minivan. We managed to get 7 people, 6 windsurfing rigs and one set of kiting gear in/on the van thanks to an engineer's organizational planning.

I bought a new bikini for the trip but wanted a second one to wear under my wetsuit so I sewed one. The top part was a breeze after my bra experience but the bottoms were an experiment. They fit well enough to wear in public but were slightly diaper-like in the bum, especially when they got wet. I had joked with my friend Kelly about making thong bottoms without knowing that in Maui thongs (not quite string thongs but definitely thongs) are in. In style, that is. I was happy with my bikini but on our last day I bent over to pick something up and everything went sproing. Well, some things didn't exactly sproing (see previous post) but the plastic piece fastening the bikini top snapped. Luckily I was in our condo at the time so Randy was the only witness.

We didn't have quite as many windy days as we wanted but happily filled the non-windy days with snorkelling, stand up paddling (SUP), surfing and hiking to waterfalls and a volcano. SUPing in waves (like surfing, but standing and with a paddle) was especially fun - if only we had waves in Vancouver! The water was so warm and it was such a treat to windsurf without a thick wetsuit! And instead of seeing seals we saw sea turtles!

The local creatures caused some excitement (besides the girls in thongs). We had some big, nasty cane spiders (aka harvestman) in the house that had left the sugarcane fields looking for a new home. There were a lot of geckos around and one ended up in our van. First it ran up Heather's arm then got flung onto me in the excitement and ran up my arm. His little feet felt pretty neat when he was running. Randy and one of our friends both had a run-in with a sea urchin. Randy's was minor; I picked some spine tips out of his foot with a needle and it was a little bit itchy. Our friend swiped the urchin with his hand and broke off a lot of spines. An antidote for the pain from its poison is vinegar but who has vinegar with them at the beach? His girlfriend was kind enough to supply some nice, warm acidic substance (since he was out) to stop the pain.

Then there are the green sea turtles. We saw so many of them! They really are gentle giants and they let you get quite close to them when you're snorkelling. We had a quite a few close encounters and watched them eating in the water. On our last day, Randy and I were snorkelling and I was looking at a big rock on the bottom that had some shells on it such that it looked like a giant flat fish that was looking right at me. I had been imagining this rock/fish coming to life then had just started to swim on when a giant creature moved into my field of view from down behind me. I screamed. Then I realized it was a turtle right below me and laughed at my jumpiness. Randy heard my snorkel scream then saw the turtle. I gave the poor turtle a fright too - when I screamed it flinched and swam away.


And saving the best for last, we saw wild goats on one of our drives!

We ate lots of fresh fruit, freshly-baked banana bread, and had happy-hour mai tais. The guys harvested some coconuts so we had fresh coconut too. They didn't use the mainstream technique for harvesting but instead developed their own which involved a tree branch as a battering ram, brute force and a windsurfing helmet for safety.

We topped off our holiday with our honeymoon in sunny West Maui at Kahana. We stayed in a condo that was 20 feet from the ocean with a lanai (balcony) overlooking the water where we could watch the turtles and the sunset. We left the lanai door open at night so we could hear the surf. It wasn't windy during those last days so we SUPed, snorkelled, swam, went to a luau, ate gelato and shaved ice, and enjoyed the view from our lanai. And we started plotting our return.

Proud of my little boobies bra

I wasn't going to write another blog until I finished my thesis (well, the first draft anyway) but .... I made my own bra! ... and I wanted to share.

I like to joke that when I finish my MSc I'm going to start a company making bras for the not-so-well-endowed called "Proud of my Little Boobies Bras". Maybe PomLiBoB for short. I'm not even finished my degree yet and now I already have a prototype!

I imagine most women reading this, no matter what size or shape, will be able to relate to the difficulty of finding a bra that fits well. Those of us on the smaller end of the spectrum are no different. When I do find a bra in a store that fits me, they often have 1" of padding. No, that's not an exaggeration. I don't want to look bigger than I am, I just want a bra that will provide a teeny, tiny bit of support and stop my n--- (I don't want to get caught by the pornography filters by using the 'n' word in this blog so I'll use goatmilkinggirl code) - stop my teats from poking through a t-shirt.

My parents are some of my few readers and this may not be what my dad was hoping to read about, but his genes did contribute to my predicament.

I learned how to use a new stitch on my sewing machine while making this. It's a straight stitch that has some stretch to it for sewing elastic. The machine does two stitches forward then one back - which I was loving until it took me ages to rip a seam out. It's amazing how much the machine can do with cams (it's from the 70s and not electronic). In case Santa Claus is reading, a serger would also be useful and would add that professional touch.

So here's my bra. It's not pretty but I wanted something to wear under light-coloured t-shirts in the summer. Bra #2 will be prettier. I did find a black bra like this in the store and it was called a 'bralette'. I thought this was a new type of bra but it may just be a re-branded training bra. Oh well, whatever works.

What is a goatmilkinggirl?

Les chèvres me manque! (Translation: I miss goats!) That's what happens when you're a goatmilkinggirl stuck in the city.

I set up this blog in 2007 with the intention of writing about goatmilkinggirl's adventures in online dating but I decided instead to use old-fashioned email for my stories. Now here I am six years later (married) writing my first blog post. I'm finishing an MSc degree and busy writing my thesis so what better time to start a blog?!

I've loved animals as long as I can remember but my love affair with goats began in 2006 while spending several months milking goats in France. That's when I became the goatmilkinggirl. I returned home with strong wrists, one stitch in my buttocks (not goat related), new French vocabulary and a special spot in my heart for goats.

A short time later I moved from the small ski town where I had been living to the city in the hopes of getting a real job (in my field). The real job didn't exactly work out but here I am still in the city. How is that possible six years later? This city has been good for one thing at least: There's now another big, hairy mammal who has a special spot in my heart and it rivals the goats' in size!

goatmilkinggirl noun A female who is adept at milking goats (even though she may live in the city and may not have had quality goat time in ages).