Cheap & Cheerful

I love wine, and since I've worked in the restaurant business for years, I've come to see that I'm not alone.  We (Canadians) are consuming more wine than ever, even though beer has long been our drink of choice. "Canada is projected to be the fifth fastest-growing wine market in the next five years".   Full article

I'm always looking for good value.  Finding a cheap wine that doesn't taste or feel cheap the next day is hard.  And I've searched for it - with many hangovers to prove it. That's why I was so pleased to come across this little green gem.

I don't doubt that KWV is big business in South Africa and would be the Canadian equivalent of recommending Jackson-Triggs, but for the price I am so impressed with their Chenin Blanc. It's priced nicely at $9.45, and since it's on the LCBO's General List, it's always available.

I'm so glad this came across my lips. It's now my go to white that I can keep a healthy stock of in my fridge. Great to keep on hand for Summer BBQs or just plain sipping. It's easier to ignore the flaws in white wine since we drink it cold but this one even passed a lukewarm test when I couldn't wait for it to chill one thirsty afternoon. Peach and apricot on the nose and green apple in the mouth, good acid and crisp finish. This wine works perfectly for my wallet and my taste buds. When those two are happy, so am I.

These are not Resolutions

Resolutions are hard to follow so I have a list of Intentions to share instead.  Let's hope my word trickery works and these intentions have some staying power.

Intentions for 2014

Be good to yourself. You’re the most important person in your life. Love every part and you’ll be well equipped to love and accept others.  Apparently we have 2000 parts, that’s a lot of love.

Accept when shitty things happen to you, they are out of your control. Accept them and find something valuable in those moments.  Like getting fired - you hated that job anyway, and now you can sleep in.

Stop judging. It’s easy to find fault in people, try finding the best in them, even if it is the tiniest minutest part of that person.

Read more than 140 characters. There is a wealth of knowledge and inspiration out there that can’t be summed up.  Read a book by an author who spent years as a starving artist to bring you their story. Think of how hungry they must have been.

Laugh at yourself because you’re ridiculous. We're all ridiculous, with our crazy thoughts and emotional reactions. It’s pretty funny even when you’re trying to be serious.

Stop criticizing your every move. Perfection doesn’t exist.  Embrace your mistakes and accomplishments equally.  Plus mistakes make for great stories.

Write everyday. It doesn’t matter if it’s good; chances are it’s not.  All that matters is that you show up. Keep your pen to page or fingers to keyboard. (this one’s mostly for me)

Do more of what you love. Whether it's reading, running, skipping or jumping - do more of it. 

Don’t eat or go to sleep angry. Neither of these things are good for you. Find a way to calm down before you dive in to that meal or before you hit the pillow. Maybe hit the pillow a few times, that might calm you down.

Get outside everyday. Unless you live in Canada and it’s -30 C, or if there’s a Master Chef marathon on – also an excuse to stay in.

      

Don’t look for happiness in other people. They can share it but they can’t give it to you.  Find it within yourself.  Even if it is buried by pain and disappointment, it’s still there.  Dig deep, it’s in there, I saw it once.

It's pronounced Haitch

My father doesn't pronounce his h's. He thinks the names Helen and Ellen are the same. My sister and I would try to correct him through our lives, especially when he called his own sister Ellen, when her name was Helene (I’ve left out the accents for English effect). "What's the difference" he'd say, "I said (H)elene". The reason it probably bothered us so much was that besides that one little letter, my father, who's native tongue is French, spoke perfect English. He's fluently bilingual in both French and English, yet the letter 'h' escapes his reach.

It is true that the letter 'h' is silent in French so it makes sense that it's difficult to pronounce for some Francophones. I guess I could compare it to my pronunciation of the letter 'r'. I can't roll my r's like most French speakers do so well. But then that's not the only reason people know I'm Anglophone, there are many slips of my English tongue that give it away.

I wish I could speak French better than I do. I remember as a child a mean little French girl made fun of me for saying something incorrectly. I must have been traumatised by the little witch because for most of my childhood I became shy when spoken to in french. I spoke in school when I had to, otherwise I avoided it as much as possible, which is why I never became as bilingual as the rest of my family.

Later on, when I entered the workplace, my bilingualism improved but I still wished that I had learned French first. English seemed so easy to me and French was this cryptic code of conjugated verbs, and an impossibly long list of masculine and feminine nouns. Do I know this person well enough to use 'tu', which way does the accent grave point? And should I be using the subjunctive right now?  

As it turns out, I should feel lucky to have English as my mother tongue. Because according to English the inescapable language by John Steele Gordon, while English is known to linguists as the "grammarless language",  it's hardly without it's difficulties for foreigners. English spelling and pronunciation are...not well coordinated. This made me realize that I am, as Gordon puts it, like most people; “oblivious to the oddities and weirdness of their native tongue-as well as its simplicities-for precisely the same reason that fish are oblivious to water.”

English is weird and often makes no sense at all. Why do we spell through with a silent gh? But pronounce those same letters in tough? 

Gordon’s article provides some insight in to the complexities of language. It’s an entertaining read for anyone who speaks multiple languages or is trying to learn a new one. And because English dominates the Internet and scientific language around the world, I should count my lucky stars that I can’t roll my r’s like my French friends do so effortlessly. But that doesn’t mean that I’ll ever stop trrrrrrying.

The Canadian Citizenship test - Revised

If you don't know, the Canadian citizenship test is a test that immigrants must pass in order to receive their Canadian citizenship.  Testing them on Canadian rights, responsibilities and history.  A test most Canadians would probably fail, including myself.  Now I don’t know what's in this test but I do know that they’re missing a big section; the Canadian Experience.  Because if you ask me, everything you need to know about being Canadian can be learned from my boyfriend Tyler's family.

Take my trip to Saskatchewan this Thanksgiving. We stayed at Tyler’s grandma’s house in a rural town an hour outside of Regina, population 1,035.

Mary's House

She has no Internet connection and her house sits beside a field that goes on forever.  We eat meals that are sourced from her garden, the butcher or the one grocery shop in town- if they don’t carry it, we don’t eat it. There is one chinese restaurant, one bar and one gas station.  I love the simplicity, its refreshing coming from a city full of useless choices.

The lawn that goes on forever

Mary’s yard is far too much for an 84 year old woman to handle so we took care of some of the yard work while we were there. I climbed a ladder to clean out the eaves troughs.  

Me and Tyler

I helped to chop down a tree with an axe, I pruned pine trees with an electric trimmer, and mowed a lawn the size of a small city block. I found out that hand sanitizer is the best thing to get tree sap out of clothing ( a good little tip for the memory bank).  It was hard labour but so worth it, especially when we were rewarded with ice cold beers after all the work was done.   

From Left - Jimi (Tyler's sis), Bev (Tyler's Uncle), Tyler himself & Ernie (Tyler's Dad)

We also spent some time at Tyler’s Uncle and Aunt’s farm.  Tyler’s Uncle Bev drove us through the acres of property that he tends to, while we kept our eyes peeled for wildlife.  Saskatchewan is truly a dream landscape to me, just frame after frame of wide-open spaces.

Sunset on the farm

Bev was disappointed when we came home only having seen deer, some foxes and an owl.  We, on the other hand, were giddy tourists bragging about everything we saw, comparing blurred photos on our iPhones.

 

Hunting Camp

On a second example of true Canadiana.  I spent a week this summer up at a hunting camp with Tyler’s Mom, Stepdad, sister and best bud. We dropped our vehicles off on a dirt road and took turns riding quads in to the camp.  We had to pull a trailer full of all the necessities for our stay, since it was a 2 hour trip along a dirt trail, up and down rocky hills to the middle of nowhere.  I’d never driven a quad before, it had a manual transmission and no power steering. After my first ride, covered in mud- I felt like my arms were going to fall off- it’s a serious workout to drive one of those things.  

The View

We arrived at the camp, a picturesque scene of tranquility. I took a deep breath and looked out over the hill at Beaver pond below, surrounded by trees. I wish I could explain in words what it felt like to be there, so tranquil and off the grid.

From camp we would drive the quads to the lake with our fishing gear in tow. We waded through waist deep water searching for the best spot to fish while looking out for snapping turtles.

We cooked tacos for lunch on an open fire before heading back to the camp. In the afternoons, we would relax on couches, reading or doing crosswords.

Sure shot

Some days we pulled out the guns, not to shoot animals ( I couldn't do that), but to practice our aim - hitting clay pigeons and balloon targets we’d placed in the trees.   I'd never fired a gun like that before, as it turns out I’m a pretty good shot.

Here little froggy

It’s a special feeling to leave urban life behind and get back to nature.  With our abundant forests, network of lakes and lush farmland, we’re so lucky to live here.  That’s what they need to teach new Canadians. That's why I'm proposing they add the Canadian Experience to their Citizenship test. Make newcomers take a trip out to the woods, visit a farm or stay in a small rural town, to experience the uniqueness this Country has to offer.

Because until you drink beers while laying out across a parked quad, inspect fresh animal tracks in the woods, or walk across a field of freshly cut wheat, then you have not experienced the country that makes me so darn proud to be Canadian.