... and everything in its place.
I finally picked up all my old knitting projects squirrelled here and there in multitudinous RW&Co bags. Everything is now so neatly organized and ready for the next project.
Which is a sweater, by the way. For me.
And yes, the jayne hats.
Still though, organization and neatness are not characteristics that come naturally to me. I’m pretty proud of myself for organizing my drawing, painting and knitting supplies so tidily.
So I went to Sean and Jen’s wedding in Lachine this month. Once everyone got to the Montreal area, it was all quite lovely, actually.
Wedding-eve cocktail hour
Most folks were staying at the hotel, which was out by the airport. It was comfortable enough – modern, lots of concrete. I had gotten to Montreal on Thursday, so I watched all day Friday out of a window at UQÀM while the snow fell, wondering if everyone was going to make it on time. Fortunately, the delayed flights arrived eventually, the drivers were cautious in their approach and the train was fine (though the taxis somewhat adventuresome, from all accounts). But we all met up for cocktails, and it was great to see everyone if only briefly (I wanted to get back to where I was staying in Lachine and clean up before the next day).
Looking out at the Lachine Canal
The Saturday was crisp and clear.
Emphasis on the crisp, it was about minus 30 celsius with the wind chill. Brr!
We all piled into the Vielle Brasserie in Lachine, where mimosas were flowing, before heading upstairs to the wedding and reception area. It was the most unique wedding I have ever attended. They had a friend of theirs from Toronto as officiant and MC, and both Sean and Jen wrote their own vows. They were lovely, and sentimental, and just perfect.
Then, brunch.
What a great idea, to have a brunch wedding. We had a couple more cocktails while the bride and groom were getting some pictures done (caesars were on the menu!) then the brunch buffet began. It was a nice selection of food… egg cups, cold salmon, crêpes… all of it, so tasty.
There was a literary theme to the wedding: the bouquets and boutonnieres were handmade from books, and everyone sat at different tables representing different genres of literature, and were given a library card with their book. Unfortunately, our group of friends were split up and on opposite sides of the room for some reason – that was a bit dull. But all worked out in the end, because the food was fine and the caesars flowing.
Suspects at a wedding
So by the time I left with Jenn and Suzy, it was mid-afternoon, and we were all frankly kind of tipsy from all the inhabitual day-drinking, and it was time to lie down for a bit of a rest.
Later, the wedding party (and most of the wedding guests, as we’d mostly all come from away) went bowling. As one does.
The bowling was a really fun, lighthearted way to end the day. I was surprised Sean and Jen were still standing by this point – it’s exhausting, to be in a wedding.
Bowling and poutine!
You know, you’ll laugh about having poutine in a bowling alley, but I could see into the kitchen where a fellow was using a rocking knife to cut up a huge board of fromage en grains, so I suspected we’d be in good hands. The poutine was awesome. Delicious and fattening and the essence of Quebec in a bowl.
At the end of the evening, we met up and hung out for a little bit of usual suspects time, before we all had to go our separate ways. My flight was earlyish in the morning, so I had to turn in early as well. I had a devil of a time sleeping, my back was sore (which I know now was this pesky infection, boo-urns) and I kept waking up thinking I’d overslept and would miss my flight.
But of course I didn’t.
Ready for the flight home
Et voilà, I was back on my way home to NB.
And now I’m the last single Suspect. I did not think it would be me, and I’m having a bit of trouble with it. It’s most disheartening. Don’t get me wrong: I have an amazing life, and I have always been able to follow my dreams. I’ve had some incredible experiences, and I’m not begrudging my path because I really like who I am. I’m also not willing to compromise what I want to do in my life or who I am in order to be in a relationship. But there was some part of me that did not expect to be the last single person in our group of friends, and who is finding that reality a bitter pill to swallow.
But it is what it is, say I pragmatically. And I’m not writing this to be pitied, because I don’t feel bad about myself. I am just noting it because it’s my blog and I want to be honest. It’s not all raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens all the time, you know.
Doesn’t mean the wedding wasn’t lovely. It really, really was.
Time to change it up, I thought. Si?
Not much happening. I’m knitting, doing homework, watching BBC Robin Hood (which, as it happens, is really terrible… and yet I can’t look away. It’s because of Keith Allen and Richard Armitage, who play the baddies so far over the top they’re out in orbit somewhere) and letting antibiotics and cranberry juice work their magic.
I know, I still have to blog about the wedding, I’ll get to that.
Turns out one of my courses will also count as a minor field, I guess that’s new.
And it’s going to snow and sleet and rain tomorrow, I’m glad I won’t be on the road.
More when I have something to write…
You go, dragons.
Fellow rabbits, what a year, amirite?
(I know this is a day late, I was away at uni. And not getting chinese food. MAN I have a powerful hankering for Chinese food.)
So Sean’s wedding was last week in Lachine.
Aside: LACHINE in the middle of frakking January, WHO DOES THAT. Of COURSE it snowed, that’s what happens in Lachine in the middle of January. And I’m done.
I’ll have a post on that later, there’s some pix but they’re on my phone which is currently dead.
I enjoyed seeing Charles and Stéphane, my UQAM colleagues and fellow battlefield nerds. I mean, group leaders. People who are as excited by visiting Normandy as I am, with whom I can wax rhapsodic about the serenity that is Le Moulin Morin. My blood pressure is lowering just thinking of that place. Anyway, it was good to see them. And because I wanted to see those guys (and others who I did not get to see due to not having a vehicle and the weather being implement), I arrived in Montreal a day and a half before the wedding.
That was a good thing, because the day before the wedding was a giant snowstorm.
Actually, it had already started while I was on the runway waiting for my flight to Montreal to leave.
We got there eventually, landed in the snow, it was great. Until I left my lovely cashmere/merino beret on the plane. I made it a couple of years ago, over Christmas break. It’s really pretty, and soft like buttah. And now it probably belongs to a flight attendant, who probably washed it and made it shrink to a child size. HA SUCKA.
Good thing I can knit, right? I made myself a beanie to replace it. Lime green malabrigo! But it’s not the same.
Oh well, someone will love that hat.
And next time I go to Montreal in January, I’m packing a spare. And wearing Sorels.
Yes, six units means you have two AFTER unit four.
Dumbass.
[In related news, I can't wait for this Canadian Social History class to be done.]
So. Yeah. I’d like to say I did something cool, but I got sick the morning of the 31st and wound up staying in and drinking copious amounts of flat ginger ale. By midnight I was already in bed, snug as a bug in a rug.
But hey, at least I was cozy in my own house. That’s a big difference from last year, when I was still in an apartment. It’s mine.
I don’t really think of the turning of the calendar as the start of a new year anyway – I’m set to the school year, so I really review and reflect at the end of August/start of September. All that this week meant was that I got to put up a new calendar, and I owe more tuition.
But what the hey. Happy twenty-twelve. Twenty-eleven was a surprisingly eventful year, I wonder what twenty-twelve has in store.
