There were other birthdays that really seemed like milestones. I remember when my daughter was in her first month of life someone made reference to her first birthday. I laughed inside; she’s wasn’t ever going to have a first birthday! She was going to be small and cuddly and beautiful forever! What an absurd idea that she would grow up and have birthdays. I now objectively understand that this is part of the brain chemistry and psychology that allows a newborn and caregivers to bond and exist through this fourth trimester. Yet the subjective experience of it was so real at the time.

The second birthday seemed to come upon me quickly. I guess that first year has so many changes and adjustments it can seem like a long time. As I settled into a flow and enjoyed my darling toddler, the summer approached and with it her little friends’ invitations to second birthday celebrations began. Whoa! Slow down! Two? Where did that come from? Can everyone just stop growing for a minute so I can catch up?

Mixed memories

I remember hearing a quote that the days are long and the years are short. I think this is such a good description about childhood. The moments when I wonder just how long it will be until my husband walks back in the door from work and how I’ll make it through those next 45 minutes. Thinking that maybe I’ll put her in the tub again to get through the afternoon, although that’s how we spent the morning. Driving and driving and driving and praying and praying and praying that the nap will happen. My heart sinking when another mom calls to say she won’t be coming over with her little one to play, while I wonder how on earth we’ll spend the afternoon now.

I remember planning a trip to the mall with a friend who has three children who were under the age of three at the time. Two of them are twins three months older than my daughter. It was March. And the weather on the day in question was quite horrid. Freezing rain and wind if I remember correctly. It was a Thursday. I called her to ask if she still wanted to go. She laughed at me incredulously. Of course we were! An outing? Out of the house? With real live people? You bet we were going out! Unless the mall had burned down… no? It hadn’t? Then, yes! We are going out! I think we even changed out of our pyjamas, had showers and put on make up. Well, maybe not make up. Let’s not get crazy. But you get the idea.

…there will always be another thing to do. But we’ll only have today together. We only get to raise our children once.

But these are the very moments of our children’s childhoods. The moments on the floor with the blocks surrounded by dirty laundry. The dripping paint that stays on the floor until the next time the floor gets washed, which in my house might be sometime this spring. Reading the same book for the one hundred and ninety seventh time may make me want to pull my hair out. But she will not remember the dirty laundry or floor or dishes. She will remember how much she loved that book and painting. And that every time she cried out in the night, I was there. This creates the safety and security our children need to grow and move out into the world.

Which is what I remind myself at 5:30am.

We only get to raise our children once

One morning I was particularly cranky and tired and so was my little darling. When we got to pre-school she stepped in front of me so I couldn’t take another step without tripping over her, and asked me to come up. She’s “almost four”! And we’re late! I took a deep sigh. Do I really have to carry her in every day? Will I be doing this forever?! But of course I won’t. The dirty fingerprints on the walls get higher and higher until they disappear. So I picked her up. She curled her little fingers around the back of my neck and I could smell her sweet breath. And I walked really, really slowly into pre-school that day.

I may not be good at it, but I pledge to look around for these moments more. To stop and just be with her instead of rushing to the next thing. Because there will always be another thing to do. But we’ll only have today together. We only get to raise our children once.

Fast forward to her fourth birthday. She has a little friend we met at the breastfeeding group who is about 30 hours older than she is. They have literally been friends their whole lives. We are going to the friend’s swimming party and are walking down the hall together to the change room when they take each other’s hands.

“We’re four, aren’t we!” my daughter says with joy.

“Yeah! We’re four!” her friend responds with pride.

My heart breaks and rejoices simultaneously. And from what I understand, I’d better get used to that.

Two bags of small, round, magenta-on-the-inside beets have been sitting in a dark cupboard in the kitchen of this apartment since the final day of the St. John’s Farmers’ Market in 2011, waiting for special occasions and right moments to meet the light of dinner.

I must admit, at first glance in February, the remaining portions in the final bag looked dull. Cloaked in a dusted colour somewhere between soft brown and decaying grey, if I did not know their taste I might have passed them by. Gross old beets, some (but not this one) might say. They’re a root vegetable. What could be so exciting? Folate, vitamin C, and potassium, hello! Nah, for me, it’s the way they melt in my mouth after their earthly clothes are traded in for olive oil, sea salt, and savoury. When they are dressed and receive an hour’s roast in the oven, they transform into bright, delectable fall and winter treats.

Beets (pickled beets, to be exact) were holiday meal items while I was growing up, which may explain the whimsical tone. Since moving to Newfoundland, they have become a more regular component of my meals. The vegetable grows well here, and can be planted in May or June. Beets will grow in containers with a depth of 15cm, or in the ground. According to Ian Senciall’s Avalon Vegetable Gardener, “Beets grow best in very well drained fertile soil that is free of rocks and has not been recently manured. A high level of potassium, as in a tomato fertilizer or wood ashes, is also beneficial when given as a side dressing.” Beets are often sold for planting in “seed balls”, which contain 2-3 seeds. These should be soaked in water overnight, then planted the following day. Although I have referred to them rather generally here, there are actually a few varieties of beets on the market. For instance, the dangerous sounding “Bull’s Blood” will produce red leaves that are great in salads. “Pablo” beets are smaller, and their round shape makes them good for canning. “Cylindra” beets are longer in shape, which makes them perfect for slicing. If you are looking to store beets over winter, “Detroit Dark Red” would be a good choice to grow or purchase from area farmers.

Raw or cooked, beets are gaining a reputation as a colourful, versatile, and delicious root vegetable.

So, give them a scrub and remove the tops, should you purchase them fresh, with greens attached. Beet greens can be steamed or used in salads, so don’t be too quick to cast them off completely. If you haven’t written beets off just yet, try out the following recipe. You might find yourself saving them in a dark, cold place for your meals next winter when they’re back at farmers’ markets, farm stands, local sections of produce aisles, and maybe even your garden in fall 2012.

This recipe (which I have slightly adjusted) is taken from Canadian Living Magazine. It calls for them to be cooked in tin foil, but I have also found that roasting them in a covered pan works just as well. In the spirit of local flavours, I have also suggested using savoury, but the original recipe calls for rosemary. This quick and simple dish has become a personal favourite. Here’s hoping it livens up your dinner plate at some point as well.

Ingredients

6 beets, (about 1-1/2 lb/750 g)
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 tbsp/15 mL dried savoury
2 tbsp (30 mL) extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 tsp (2 mL) each salt and pepper
1 tbsp (15 mL) parsley

Preparation

Cut beet tops to leave 1 inch (2.5 cm) attached; leave tails. Place on 16-inch (40 cm) piece of foil. Sprinkle with garlic, savoury, 1 tbsp (15 mL) of the oil, salt and pepper. Fold to form packet. Place on rimmed baking sheet; roast in 400°F (200°C) oven until fork-tender, 1 hour.

Wearing rubber gloves, peel and trim beets; cut into 1/4-inch (5 mm) thick slices. Arrange on warmed platter; drizzle with remaining oil. Sprinkle with parsley.

Source : Canadian Living Magazine: November 2004

The reason we ended up with a four legged member in our motorcycle gang has been five years in the making (or, ever since I moved to Germany and began begging for one). I come from a dog family; the German from a no-pet-period!-family. The German claims they did once have rabbits as pets, but given that they were subsequently eaten, I do not think we share the same definition of ‘pets’ (mind you, these rabbits were not fluffy pet store rabbits, they were rabbits that were meant for food from the beginning. All the more reason to argue they were not ‘pets’). He could barely fathom why anyone would want 20 pounds of fur that you needed to feed and clean up after (and for no other purpose than…well…love).

I, on the other hand, could not comprehend how anyone would want to live without one.

The German claims they did once have rabbits as pets, but given that they were subsequently eaten, I do not think we share the same definition of ‘pets’…

Friends recommended that I just show up one day with a dog. As tempting as that was, I do believe that whoever you share your living space with should agree to pets (even if you warn them ahead of time that a no-pet-stance will be considered incomprehensible and perhaps a sign that they are borderline evil). Yet, Christmas of this year he completely surprised me. He had done the research on taking a dog from Thailand into Canada and Germany. It’s surprisingly easy. It proved even more so when I found out the costs for microchipping and rabies vaccinations. In fact, it cost less than walking into the clinic in Canada or Germany.

As overjoyed as I was, there was just one problem. If we got a dog during our journey, the dog would need to go through a very long and horrible flight at some point. Could I be so cruel? I thought not. And so I decided to wait until we were back in Germany before getting a dog.

Fortuitously, a tropical island paradise intervenes

And then the German and his brother decided they wanted to do their rescue diving course on the island of Koh Tao. I do not dive. That did not mean that a week on an island that styled itself as a slice of paradise did not appeal to me. I could sunbathe, write, and volunteer at the local animal shelter.

However, upon arrival I discovered that the animal shelter did not need volunteers. The dogs were free to roam as they wished. The vet was there to neuter them, keep a door open should the dogs want to come inside, and try to convince local businesses to feed them rather than try to poison them.

The vet did have puppies however. Puppies who needed a home. When I told her my concerns about the flight she advised me to “take a look at the puppies. If you want one, take him. If he could, he would choose a flight that came with food and a loving home over regular kicks and death by rat poisoning. Trust me.”

And when I saw the little guy I knew he was mine. It was love at first sight.

Dogs on wheels?

Anyone who has traveled South East Asia knows why the motorcycle was not on my list of worries about the dog. Dogs ride bikes here all the time. And not just in the basket. Often times the dogs look like they are the ones doing the steering: two feet on the seat and two paws on the handle bars. I am not so brave with Mango. He was going in the basket. Even over long distances.

There are times when the fact that my German partner is an engineer makes me want to scratch my eyeballs out (have you ever tried arguing with an engineer over something that is completely illogical and entirely emotional? Now add to that equation an engineer bred in Germany). But there are other times when I am filled with glee. Like when he managed to make a new basket out of a plastic storage container, attach it to my bike, and with the use of a harness and a series of leads create a system that keeps Mango safely in the basket while still allowing him to move around.

And Mango’s take on motorcycle travel? At first we thought he hated it. Deep howls made us wonder whether this was such a good idea after all. And then we tried it with my bike taking the lead. It was magic: so long as the German was behind us, he was great. Not a peep. In other words, it turns out that Mango simply wants to be on the lead motorcycle. So long as he is first, it’s all ear-flapping bliss. His tongue lolls out and he will even curl up to nap if we’re on a longer ride. However, should his other owner overtake us – even when Mango is in the middle of a nap – I immediately have a rattling basket of emotional distress on my bike. How he knows it’s the German I have no idea: other bikes can pass me and all is well. Mango either wants to be top dog, or he has abandonment issues. Chances are it’s a bit of both.

But we can work on that!

Astonished that producers selected her to appear on the series, McCarthy had to keep her winnings secret for a month, until the show officially aired.

Source: VOCM

Source: CBC

Source: CBC

This week, after tense negotiations, the union representing Corner Brook’s firefighters and the city itself came to an agreement giving the firefighters a 16 per cent wage increase… only to fire 4 firefighters the next day. Corner Brook Mayor Neville Greeley insists that throughout the bargaining process the union would not entertain any negotiations outside of pay increases – despite the fact he made it clear the city could not afford to keep staffing levels where they were if significant pay increases were awarded. The CBC reports about 60 people attended Thursday afternoon’s rally calling for Greeley’s resignation, held just a day after council announced the cuts. With Greeley maintaining that the union was told job cuts would be necessary to cover the negotiated raise, shouldn’t at least half of the anger in this case be directed at union officials – who appear to have negotiated a pay raise at the expense of the jobs of 4 firefighters?

Source: CBC

Anatomy of a Boom | Part 2: “If the boom has not led to a marked increase in inequality, the same cannot be said for government policies. They markedly increased our levels of inequality.” Robert Sweeny continues his take on Newfoundland and Labrador’s growth here.

Waiting for the flowers to bloom: Erin Sharpe is a Newfoundlander living and working in Japan. In this week’s Stray Puffin, she describes the experience of living through the 2011 earthquake…and the amazing story of what came after. Click here to read.

In case you missed it… in our Just for Fun feature we’ve posted a free online Teenage Ninja Turtles arcade game. Seriously. Check it out. Keep an eye on that section for great ways to waste your Thursday afternoons.

OCI continues to get hammered in the public arena, and this latest accusation is a kick while the company is down. Why is OCI being treated as an enemy in every situation – when it has employed hundreds and hundreds of Newfoundlanders for years? With the NDP supporting the union at every turn, the governing PC’s rejecting every proposal the company has put forward, and now the Liberals attacking the family that runs the company, who can OCI turn to in order to make progress?

Source: CBC

Mouyal ran several operations in Canada between 1994-2001, receiving a $287,000 federal grant and provincial tax breaks to open his call centre in the capital city. In the midst of critical media fire, police raided his centres in Toronto, Montreal, and St. John’s, shutting down this centre in the early part of the last decade. By that point, Mouyal himself had accumulated more than $2.8 million dollars, in part because his employees pretended to represent other companies when speaking to clients, and were able to charge staggering mark-ups on products – as high as 700%.

In 2007, Mouyal was fined $1 million dollars and forbidden from selling business directories or commercial supplies for 10 years. However, NBC Miami has been following the story in conjunction with the CBC, and has alleged that Mouyal, along with his wife, are already up to the same tricks, and are still operating in the black. What do you think about that?

Source: CBC