SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Giving Notice - Friday, Sept. 29, 2017
Accepting Offers - Tuesday, Sept. 26, 2017
Indian/Polish Wedding - Thursday, Sept. 21, 2017
The Builder - Wednesday, Sept. 13, 2017
Rupert Part II - Sunday, Sept. 10, 2017


Friday, Nov. 06, 2015 @ 1:57 pm
Autumn with Julia



Sunday night in the kitchen. My hair's a mess, and I'm attempting to flip a whole chicken onto its side in the sizzling butter in the dutch oven. I'm holding mismatched long handled utensils, and the tarragon-scented steam dampens my face. Don't break the skin. Don't break the skin. Butter spatters onto the pages of my borrowed copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking.

Eventually, I pull the chicken out of the oven. I run around the kitchen like mad, a whisk in the gravy, a masher in the yams, and pot holders to grab the stuffing from the oven. I spread it out on the table, and realize that I've created a proper Thanksgiving-style meal single-handedly in 2.5 hrs on a non-holiday Sunday. Cranberry sauce from scratch and everything.

Daniel sits down and surveys the table. Hrmph... he says. Impressive!

I go to the annual staff appreciation party, riding my bike there to clear my head and prepare my introvert brain for a social marathon. I develop a social strategy en route, to select a handful of people to get to know better. A mission for the night.

At the quarter-way mark, I stand off to the side and look around the room. My heart starts to pound, knowing that I'll have to break back into a circle of people to get back into the conversation. I look at my watch and consider high tailing it to a yoga class. I look back up and brace myself, telling myself that there is greater reward to be had here, investing in these people.

Before I know it, three hours have passed, and I've engaged with several key people at the company, won a $100 gift certificate to a fancy restaurant, and survived embarrassing myself in front of the entire room.

I ride the remaining 6 blocks home, the chill air freezing my cheeks and nose.

This is life, either flushed and rosy in the kitchen, or electric with cold on the vacant bike route. The fall leaves fading to tans and browns, the rainy days outnumbering the sunny days. This is fall in Vancouver, and it's better than I ever remembered.


Roots | Shoots