Plant based week

 Jonathan has been a strict vegan for about a year and a half now. Since we still eat together as a family, that means Tim and I are mostly vegetarian, cooking plant based family meals, although Tim and I have been putting dairy milk on cereal and dairy cheese on our sandwiches, and when we eat out we occasionally get a hamburger or fish and chips. But we've also tried many varieties of plant based recipes with Jonathan, so we know which vegan foods we like the best, and work the best, and make the most sense. 

For fun, I decided to go completely vegan for a week, to see what it would be like. 

Given the first paragraph of this post, it wasn't really life changing. Meh. Not a big deal. 

I just put Jonathan's soy milk on my granola in the morning and opted to have pizza without cheese, and vegan butter on my toast rather than regular butter. Otherwise, it was pretty much the same. 

Which makes me think that perhaps I should do this more often. 

A plant based diet is well-known to be better for health, better for the climate. It also makes a lot of practical sense: plant based foods can be cheaper, last longer in the pantry, and are more filling (oats, grains, seeds, nuts, oils... even the soy milk stores in the cupboard much longer than dairy). At first I found it harder to cook, but not so much anymore with practice. And finally, I usually think the vegetarian option looks better! More colour and flavour.

I like to be flexible. I like to try everything rather than restrict myself. Is there a label for someone who is almost exclusively vegan but will occasionally try a special dish with meat or fish?

Some favourite meals that are easily veganisable:  vegetable chili, pasta primavera, stir fries in all their forms. Japanese curry rice. Shanghai noodles. Thai green curry (that is, buy a jar of pre-made Thai green curry sauce, and check carefully that you're getting the version without added fish sauce. Add your own vegan fish sauce and follow their directions for cooking). For breakfast, toast and granola. For lunches, sandwiches with vegetables and avacados. Salads with canned beans for protein. Pancakes, waffles (use flax or chia seeds to replace the eggs -- gives it a delightful texture!). 

And many / most? snacks are vegan: Potato chips. Corn chips. Dark chocolate. Many types of cookies and candies. Nuts. Just check that you are avoiding snacks with added butter or cheese -- the cheaper ones will be vegan!

We like to use a plant-based mince to replace ground beef in tacos. Tofu is boring, but we found that the pre-marinated chili tofu is really good, and pretty much replaces most everything that used to be chicken in our meals.

And I've been making my own vegetarian granola for breakfast for nearly two decades, when I found that it made me feel good, and kept me from being hungry before lunch.

I have never really liked cooking, but eating is necessary. So we will continue to plan dinner every single day for the rest of our lives. Now more plant based. 

Risk taking at the end of the year

The omicron variant of covid-19 is running rampant over Australia, particularly the state of New South Wales (NSW) to the north, with Sydney as its capital city. But it is also here in Victoria. 

...

Melbourne adjusted its New Year's Eve celebration. In the past, the world was invited to the city, with fireworks shot from every skyscraper and in hubs around the Central Business District (CBD). Last year, all fireworks were cancelled. This year, they would be shooting fireworks once again from a few hubs, but nothing centrally, and the hubs would be carefully regulated: A ticket lottery, proof of full vaccination required for entry. 

Tim entered the lottery and won eight tickets. Jonathan invited a couple of friends and their parents. 

And then on the morning of 30 December, there were over 10,000 new covid cases in NSW. 5000 in Victoria. Yikes! Should we go?

...

The weather was forecast to be hot. Hot HOT! Our first really hot day of the year, complete with warnings to stay out of the sun, hydrate, watch for signs of heat exhaustion, with temperatures cooling from the high 30s (around 100 degrees F) to the high 20s (around 80 degrees F) between 6pm and midnight. In my mind, perfect PERFECT weather for a summer event outdoors.

But 31 December dawned, and NSW had over 20,000 new covid cases, Victoria nearly 6000. 

...

Should we go?

...

Jonathan made rice paper rolls, enough to feed the army that is Jonathan's stomach, plus a few extras for me and Tim, and packed them up for a dinner in the park.

The heat was brutal. With no air conditioning, Tim and I had already been arguing over the windows in our apartment all morning. When to open? When to close? How to keep the sun out?

Tim found an empty 2 liter water bottle to take to the park with us, to fill when we arrived, so we could both stay hydrated, but also avoid carrying a heavy water jug up to the city.

The event would be outdoors. Everyone fully vaccinated. Distanced on the grass. 

If we couldn't enjoy this sort of event, what could we do except lock ourselves into our homes for years?

We went. 

There were a lot fewer people than in previous years at the Flinders Street Station while we waited to meet up with one of Jonathan's friends. The heat and the pandemic made a great crowd-thinning combination. 

 

When we arrived at the park, first we were screened for vaccination status. Then our bags were searched. And finally our tickets were scanned. We were the only people in the line. But they were clearly ready for a lot more.

We were one of basically only two groups in the entire park. 

 But more people slowly trickled in. 

The sky was beautiful. The sunset pretty. 

It was nice to spend some time with Jonathan's friends and their parents. Because of Jonathan, we have basically been in their covid bubble for months anyway, so it was nice to put faces to the names. 

 Jonathan came with me for some crazy dancing closer to the stage -- but still meters away from other people. 

And then at 9:30pm, fireworks! And then all the families with little kids left. 

And then at midnight, fireworks!

Happy new year, everyone. 

My guess: This year we will have to make a lot of decisions about the kind of life we want to live in a pandemic, and the risks and mitigations we are willing to take. 

I resolve to think upon it. 

Merry Christmas Moving

 For Christmas this year, we got a new apartment. Here on Christmas morning, we have moved about 90% of the things we really need, and we are probably only about 40% finished with moving. 

The new place looks really really great. 

Kitchen:

Living room

Entryway

Dining room

Assorted bedrooms and bathrooms

There is still a lot to do and to decorate, but it is so nice being in our own place for Christmas this year. 

Note: The tree is still assembled in the other apartment. We asked Jonathan if he would disassemble it and reassemble it here, and he said no. So we'll go over there later for Christmas tree photos.

Melbourne's Royal Exhibition Building

On the 23 of December, the family and I went to get booster vaccinations. Tim and I were eligible for our third dose. And the state was running a walk-in vaccination clinic at Melbourne's Royal Exhibition Building, a gorgeous 19th century building built to host fairs and exhibitions. While the building's website says you can book a tour daily, I had never been inside. I had never managed to be around when the tours were running. It always seemed to be closed due to ... something. 

The state would be running the vaccination clinic there right up until close of business the day before Christmas Eve. So I embraced the option to finally see the inside of this beautiful building. Oh. And get another vaccine with the massive surge in covid-19 cases. I convinced the family to come along.

The building did not disappoint. 

I was the crazy lady taking all the photos in the line.

Jonathan, though not eligible for his third shot, came as my support person. So he could see the building too.

It was well worth the migraine and vomiting the following morning for the chance to both (1) see the Royal Exhibition Building, and (2) prepare myself from the incoming apocalypse that is omicron.

Bittersweet endings

Jonathan graduated from high school. Because of Covid, density rules or something, they rented out a movie theatre for the ceremony. But the only theatre available was in a city south of Melbourne, about a 45 minute drive away with no traffic.

We took the train and a bus, and it took us 90 minutes to get there.

I admit it was nice to go. Jonathan earned a special award for extracurricular activities: School council, Earth Science Olympiad, even co-founder of the gardening club way back before the pandemic hit, before the school garden space was taken away. 

Tim and I were sitting at the back of the huge theatre, so of course our pictures pretty much involve tiny specs on the huge stage. But here they are anyway for posterity. 

Principal's introduction. 

 

Jonathan.  

The graduating students in Doherty house, including Jonathan, named after the Australian immunologist. 

All the graduates.

All the graduates singing the school song at the end.

Jonathan and friend M after the ceremony.

We took a taxi home. 45 minutes.

A week later, exam results were released for the entire state. Jonathan's overall mark qualified him for another nice award. He and Tim went up to the University of Melbourne to celebrate.

Last year, Jonathan's individual exam scores were the best he could have hoped for. This year, they were lower than he had expected, in all three classes. He still did really well, and he knows he did really well, and when people ask him, he smiles and says he is very happy with his results. And he is. 

But why did they take extra marks off in English? Weren't his essays just as strong as his practice essays? Did his conscious choice not to write with as many five-syllable words as possible (word vomit, it is called) hurt him in the end, even though he knew it was better writing? And if only he had worked faster through the mathematics exam! 

I hate getting back exam results. I hated it for me, and now I get to hate it all over for Jonathan, as I feel like I experience all the pain all over again (probably worse than he does), and there is even less that I can do about it this time through, because it is not my exam! It is his!

So there is a bit of the bitterness, and it's all coming from me. He's happy, and over it already. And life is good. 

What about next year? High school is over. Summer is upon us. 

It looks like the boy will choose to live with us for now, and attend the University of Melbourne. 

In the past, he was considering moving out and attending Australian National University in Canberra, living in the dorms. But it has been a brutal couple of years for students living in dorms. He has decided to weather out what still seems to be an uncertain pandemic future with his family. Again part of me is sad that he won't have that dorm experience (yet). Still, I cannot deny that it will be nice to have him at home.

Me, I chose to live at home in my university days, and I regretted it. There were too many people at home, who didn't understand university schedules, university studying, university social needs. But there aren't all those extra children in Jonathan's home. His mom is not my mom: the elementary school PTA president who completely freaked out when I finally started dating in college and staying out late, and for the first time in my life, age 20, decided I'd better have a curfew. Good times. 

I hope I will not be that mom.

And here we are, at the end of a post that is purported to be all about Jonathan, when in fact again it is really all about me. 

 

Maybe moving soon. Maybe.

When we began this blog, way back in the dark ages, we were renovating a house as we moved from one continent to another with a small child. We're moving again. This time from one apartment to another in the same building, and with a very tall young adult. Pretty much the opposite in all respects of that first move. Except we are renovating again. 

We bought the apartment two years ago, rented it back to the couple who owned it while they took a short time to finish renovating the apartment they were moving into. Then there were delays, lockdowns, covid, and delays. And we are finally renovating our apartment with the hope of moving there by Christmas. 

The last time we redid a home, we stripped out a dark kitchen and replaced it with light wood and white countertops. This time, we stripped out a dark kitchen and replaced it with white. So far just white. There will be black accents, because we are modern. (?) And the black looked good.

But today, we just have kitchen cabinets:

The countertop will be black engineered stone, to match the black double oven. 

We are still choosing tile, but it is looking like a matte white subway tile. For a very bright white kitchen. With modern black accents. 

There have been other choices. Ceiling fans. Carpet (gray). A mantle for the fireplace (black stone).

We also chose a light for the entry way. The entry was designed in the 1930s for a 1930s light.

We went out and found a 1930s glass light to hang there. 

Still coming: Paint, carpet. Finished flooring.

It looks really good, and we are excited to maybe be moving soon.

 Maybe.

Endings

When given the opportunity to take on a new, challenging task, you stare deep into the future and imagine how it will change your life while it is going. There will be times when you don't know enough. How will you learn? There will be times when you aren't strong enough. How will you grow? You cannot guess at all the challenges, but you can envision the struggle, and you can decide whether the struggle is worth it. 

And if the struggle is worth it, you step in, and you wade through, and you lose face when you are stupid, and you lose sleep when you are worried, and you grow in ways you did not imagine, for years and years....

And then the task ends. 

The end. 

Walk away. We're finished here. 

What? Just like that? 

But what about all those years!?

In 2016, newly arrived in Australia, a supervisor suggested I apply for a research fellowship. I thought it was a stretch, but I took it on. And won it! Starting in mid-2017, I received four years of funding and opportunities to grow my research in ways it had not grown before. I worked hard for four years, learned a lot, took on students and postdocs and really became more of a research leader. 

And quietly in July, the fellowship ended. The end! Walk away. 

What? But what about all the lingering ideas?

In 2017, I was asked to step in as Chair of the national Women in Mathematics group in Australia. What, me? Surely I don't know enough about advocacy, media engagement, leadership, for that? But I was assured that I knew enough, and someone was needed, and I would be enough, and pretty please? So I stepped in. I had to learn. I became a face for equity. I did what I could to help, through unexpected crises. I learned to do fancy management buzzwords, like "pivot" in a pandemic. I survived.

And then, quietly, the position ends. All that fear, all that work, and I'll step down in January. The end. Walk away. Someone else can lose sleep over it now. 

What? Just like that?

Here's a really big one. In 2003, I chose to get pregnant. There was no way to see the monumental shifts this would create in life. The sleepless nights. The worries over childcare. Tears over scraped knees, fights with friends, the elation at the child's successes! The devastation at the failures. Carving out spaces for another new human over three different continents. 

And quietly, Tuesday is his last day of high school. 

 Just like that!

All grown up, and a more brilliant human than I ever could have imagined, and ever could have foreseen. 

Somehow, the endings are not as evident from the beginnings as I suppose they should be. When facing the huge task, it never really seemed we would every get here, to the end. And yet here we are.

What?