Weekend in Winnipeg

When we toured all 30 hockey arenas from 2008 to 2010, Atlanta still had a team, so that's where we went when we were making our way around the NHL.  Since that time, the team has relocated from Atlanta to Winnipeg (which is in Manitoba, Canada) and the Thrashers became the Jets.  Of course, there already was a team called the Winnipeg Jets, but that franchise was relocated to Arizona in the 1990's and was renamed the Coyotes.  Confused yet?  I know. 

Regardless, this change took place in 2011, after we had visited the 30 arenas, so we kept telling ourselves we needed to take a trip to Winnipeg to see a game.  It would also serve the secondary purpose of adding to our list of provinces we have visited; C had been to Winnipeg for work, but I had never been to Manitoba, so now we are tied with eight of the ten provinces visited.  I am sure we’ll make it to Saskatchewan and Newfoundland someday.

There were two factors to consider when planning the trip: 1) tickets to Winnipeg Jets games are extremely hard to come by, meaning we had to go when we found tickets, regardless of who the opponent was (when we were going around the league, we tried to attend games where we rooted for at least one of the teams); and 2) the game needed to be early on in the season to avoid potential winter weather.

After much research, C found us tickets and flights for the last weekend in October.  We lucked out because one of the teams C likes is the Colorado Avalanche, so when he found game tickets for when they were in Winnipeg, he was pretty excited.

Our flight to Minneapolis was at 6 am on Saturday morning, and with it being so early, I was asleep before takeoff and did not wake until we were almost landing.  Upon our arrival, we picked up our rental car, grabbed some breakfast, and embarked on a seven-hour drive to Winnipeg.  C did all of the driving while I read in the car.  Not fun, leisurely, bestseller reading, mind you.  Pages and pages and pages of textbook and research article reading.  (You will quickly identify this as a theme of the weekend.  Occupational hazard.)  I have no problem reading in the car, but highlighting is a different story.  Case in point:

Our trip was only a few days after the tragedy in Ottawa, so when I spotted the Canadian flag at half-mast at the border, I made C pull over so I could snap a quick photo:

When we arrived in Winnipeg, we did some decidedly Canadian things that we can't do at home:  shopping at Roots, eating at Harvey's, and getting coffee at Tim Hortons.  We also found an awesome building with some of the elements of the periodic table on it - so naturally I tried to make the "Breaking Bad" logo.  Unfortunately, the lighting was terrible, I was using my phone's camera, and the two elements were on different levels and at different ends of the building, so the angles and lighting do not match.  However, this did not stop me from immediately texting it to my brother, a fellow rabid fan of the show!  After that, we had a quiet evening hanging out at the hotel, filled with several hours of homework (me) and hockey-watching (C).

The next morning, we checked out of the hotel and headed over to Assiniboine Park. 

Some of you may not know this, but "Pooh Bear" has been my nickname for my entire life.  On the day I was born, my grandma gave me a stuffed Winnie the Pooh.  That bear was my best friend.  He went on every adventure with me and we had grand conversations.  You know how people always say that if their house caught fire, they'd grab their photo albums?  Not me.  Once C and our dogs were safe, the only material possession I would run back in to save would be my Pooh Bear.  He is my Hobbes.

My Pooh Bear - ragged and matted from many baths - but so very loved!

So imagine my surprise and delight when C found this gem as he was planning the trip.  Assiniboine Park is home to the Pavilion Gallery Museum and housed in this museum is an exhibit about Winnie the Pooh.  It was so wonderful.  There is also a statue of the bear who was the inspiration for the A. A. Milne character.

From Wikipedia:

Winnipeg, or Winnie, (24 August 1914 – 12 May 1934) was the name given to a female black bear that lived at London Zoo from 1915 until her death in 1934.

She was bought as a small cub for $20 (probably from the hunter who had shot her mother) at a stop in White River, Ontario, by Lt. Harry Colebourn of The Fort Garry Horse, a Canadian cavalry regiment, en route to the Western Front during the First World War. The bear was smuggled into Britain as an unofficial regimental mascot. Lt. Colebourn, the regiment’s veterinarian, named her after his home city of Winnipeg, Manitoba. Before leaving for France, Colebourn left Winnie at the London Zoo.

Winnipeg's eventual destination was to have been the Assiniboine Park Zoo in Winnipeg, but at the end of the War, Colebourn decided to allow Winnie to remain at the London Zoo, where she was much loved for her playfulness and gentleness. Among her fans was A. A. Milne's son Christopher Robin, who consequently changed the name of his own teddy bear from "Edward Bear" to "Winnie the Pooh," providing the inspiration for his father's stories about Winnie-the-Pooh.

What a great story - except the part about the hunter killing Winnie's mother - that I didn't know before this trip!

After spending time at the park, we drove downtown and stopped at Hudson's Bay Company (another favorite Canadian must-do for us) before heading to the game.  The final score was 2-1 in overtime in favor of Winnipeg, but we did not stay to watch the overtime period because we had a seven-hour drive back to Minneapolis after the game.  The fans were very passionate and brought a great energy to the game.  As for me, I brought a textbook to the game and read/highlighted during every down moment.  I know some of the fans sitting near us were not impressed with me.

The drive was pretty uneventful.  I was annoyed with myself because I usually bring a book light with me on car trips so that I can read in the car, but I failed to do so this time.  So I had to use my phone's flashlight which was a challenge, trying to hold the phone and keep the textbook open with one hand, and trying to highlight as I read with the other hand.  On a very bumpy road.  I doubt I'll forget to pack a book light again any time soon.

sunset we witnessed on our drive back to Minnesota

We checked in to what was possibly our shortest hotel stay to date – it was less than seven hours from check in to check out.  Our flight home was great and we are proud to say we've now been to games in 31 NHL cities.  :-)

Minneapolis-St. Paul airport - couldn't pass up a photo of rainbow lighting

Happy Tails to you!

Hurdle #2

My doctoral program requires 54 credits of course work.  As a full-time student, this means 9 credits (3 classes) each semester, for three very long years.  In addition to this coursework, there are three hurdles to clear before I can begin writing my dissertation proposal.  These three portfolio review meetings are an opportunity to meet with my committee, which is comprised of three professors.

Students spend MONTHS crafting essays, collecting documentation, updating their portfolio websites, and designing a presentation for the day of the review.  During the meeting, the professors ask tough questions and students must be knowledgeable about the research in their area of interest and also able to make connections between the research and their own work.

As one might imagine, this is a daunting process.  Sitting alone in a room with three brilliant people you respect and admire is intimidating as it is, but if you combine that with the fact that you are the one doing the majority of the talking while the professors evaluate you, it's easy to see how stressful this is.

I am very proud to report that I passed Portfolio #2 today!

My committee members are amazing. Their support and encouragement knows no bounds and I left the meeting today feeling reassured that I am on the right path for where I want to be at the end of this journey.  I could not have selected more phenomenal committee members to guide me through this program.  I am feeling immense gratitude for each of them today and I know their influence and direction will continue to shape me as a researcher as I work through the home stretch of the portfolio process.

EDIT/UPDATE:  I had a few people ask about "Hurdle #1"...I passed Portfolio #1 in July.  :-)

Happy Tails to you!

Thirty Years

This photo is my birth certificate.

Thirty years ago today, it was finally official – the long process of my dad adopting me was complete.

Although I had already considered this man my dad for more than three years at this point, some things take time.  It’s funny how one small piece of paper can represent something so monumental in my life and bring closure to a complicated process.

This birth certificate, with my new name printed on it, signified a new beginning for me – a life in which I knew where I belonged.  My dad choosing to make me his daughter was loving and selfless and amazing, and reflected the respect he had for my mom, of whom I was an extension.

So I got a new birth certificate to reflect this new life.

I was so thrilled to have this new name – immensely proud of the story behind how it came to be and what it meant for all the days of my life that would follow.

Those of you who know me know how much I love my last name.  I don’t just love it, I LOVE IT.  Sooooooooo much.  I think is a fabulous name!  (Don’t ask me how many monogrammed tote bags I have!)

But more than that, this name is a gift.  The greatest gift I can imagine receiving.

And that is why when C and I got married, I did not change my name.  This name means everything to me – it is my family’s name, my dad’s name, MY name – and I never once ever considered changing it after getting married.

Let me be perfectly clear:  I utterly adore my in-laws.  I hate the term “in-laws” because C’s mom and dad are so much more to me than that.  I could not love them more if I tried.  They are truly my second set of parents who love and support us in every sense of the word.  My parents and brothers love them, too – as cliché or cheesy as it may sound, we really are two families that have grown into one.

And so the decision to not change my name had nothing to do with C’s parents – I happen to love their last name – and if I am being honest, it really had very little to do with my family, either.  It was simply a deeply personal decision that was right for me.

When C and I talked about getting married, I told him that I wasn’t going to change my name.  He didn’t even blink.  He knew exactly why I was so attached to my name and how the history of my life was tied up with it.  This was not surprising to me – he is an awesome human being and an even more awesome husband.

What WAS surprising to me was that he offered to change his last name.  This possibility was not even on my radar – I hadn’t considered asking him to do so and I certainly did not expect him to suggest it.  While it may be a tiny bit more commonplace now, twenty years ago, we had never even heard of anyone doing such a thing.

And so C gave me the second greatest gift I can imagine and he legally changed his last name so that it would be the same as mine.

Unconventional?  Yes.

Grand romantic gesture?  YES.

We’ve gotten our share of weird looks, ignorant comments, and ridiculous questions when people find out what we did, and many, many, many people think my brothers are C's brothers and that I am the one who married into the family.  Which is fine by me, since they were 5 and 6 years old when C and I started dating and so C really IS their big brother and for all intents and purposes, always has been.

It’s been thirty years since I received my new birth certificate declaring me an official member of my newly-defined family.  If it’s possible, I love my name even more now than I did back then…I love hearing students call me by it, decorating my classrooms with items related to it, and dreaming of the day when it will be partnered with the prefix “Dr.”

Happy Tails to you!

Sweetest Day

Sweetest Day is typically thought of as a “Hallmark holiday,” but according to Wikipedia, it was actually established in 1921 by a candy company.  Regardless of its origin, I am a fan.  It’s like a mini-Valentine’s Day in the fall!

I had no plans to write a blog post about Sweetest Day, but then this happened:

Sleeping Beauty was finally released on blu-ray this week, and I could not wait to add it to my collection.  I remember seeing it for the first time at a drive-in with my mom when I was very young, and I absolutely loved the movie, even though Maleficent became the villain I was most terrified of growing up.  The music is awesome (I featured the lyrics to Once Upon a Dream a few months ago when my brother and sister-in-law got married) and I love the style of animation.

The fact that C bought the movie for me for Sweetest Day was very kind of him.  But it was the sunglasses that put the gift over the top because of the thoughtfulness behind them.

For those of you who aren’t fans of Sleeping Beauty, two of the three good fairies, Flora and Merryweather argue about the color Aurora’s dress should be, saying “Make it pink!” and “Make it blue!” while using their magic wands to change the color.

One pair of sunglasses is pink and the other is blue…so sweet.

Happy Tails to you!

And Then There Were FOUR!

Most of the FB pages I follow are related to dog rescue – Hendrick & Co., Hope for Paws, WagAware – and animal causes in general – ASPCA, PETA, HSUS – to name a few, but my favorite is Dachshund Rescue of North America.  This is the organization that is nearest and dearest to my heart.  As a result of following all these pages, I see a ton of animal stories day after day in my newsfeed and cry when I read the horrendous stories of abuse, neglect, and abandonment.  I am so thankful there are people working tirelessly against animal cruelty and also for organizations who take in unwanted pets, heal and foster them, and find them loving homes.

And I wish I could save them all.

We have adopted five Dachshunds through DRNA and doing so has proven to be the most rewarding and fulfilling thing we’ve ever done.  Our first foray into rescue was in 2009 and our dogs have brought immense joy, craziness, barking, and love into our lives!

However, when we lost our sweet Molly in 2010, I was so heartbroken that I swore I would never get another dog because I didn’t think I would ever get over it.  And of course, I never have gotten over it…that loss will always and forever be with me.  But the sadness slowly ebbed and was replaced by happy memories that we reminisce about all the time.

After months of seeing dogs every day in my newsfeed, Duchess appeared one day and I somehow knew she was meant to be ours.  We adopted her in August 2011.

Fast forward to November 2013, and we lost Gunni.  This almost killed me.  I was so attached to her that I really thought I would never recover.  As with Molly (who was Gunni’s mom), I swore to myself:  no more dogs.  Losing them just hurt too much.

Five months later, we lost Duchess.  Two dogs in five months.  People toss around the word “devastated” in a way to explain an exaggerated sense of disappointment.  When I say I was devastated, I mean that my heart felt as though it had been shattered into a million pieces.  And again, the promise:  no more dogs.

Life continued with our three little gals, who never fail to amuse us with their antics.  I continued to cry daily about all of the dogs who need homes.  I continued to donate to my favorite animal organizations, because even though I felt I could not help out in terms of taking in a homeless dog, I could give money in support of medical care and fostering.  And I told myself, I’ll never get another dog.

Until I came across this a few months ago:

A Dog’s Last Will & Testament

Before humans die,

they write their last will and testament,

giving their home and all they have

to those they leave behind.

If, with my paws, I could do the same,

this is what I’d ask…

To a poor and lonely stray,

I’d give my happy home;

my bowl and cozy bed, soft pillow and all my toys;

the lap, which I loved so much;

the hand that stroked my fur;

and the sweet voice that spoke my name.

I’d will to the sad, scared shelter dog

the place I had in my human’s loving heart,

of which there seemed no bounds.

So, when I die, please do not say,

“I will never have a pet again,

for the loss and the pain is more than I can stand.”

Instead, go find an unloved dog,

one whose life has held no joy or hope,

and give my place to her.

This is the only thing I can give…

The love I left behind.

- Author Unknown

My attitude quickly changed as I realized that I was actually being incredibly selfish.  I had decided to never get another dog because it hurt too much?  Pathetic.

Thousands upon thousands of dogs are euthanized at shelters in this country every year just because they exist.  Because people are too idiotic and irresponsible to spay and neuter their dogs.  Because people have children or move or come up with some other lame excuse for dumping their dog at a shelter with no regard for their fate.  Because breeding dogs is big business.  Because people think shelter dogs must have something wrong with them – when the truth is that the only thing “wrong” with them is the despicable humans who tortured, neglected, and abandoned them.

I realized that I am in a position to help.  Even though I can’t save every dog, I can save one dog.

Last week, a dog popped up in my newsfeed.  Sadie, 12.  And somehow, I just knew.

On Thursday, I emailed the DRNA contact person to ask if we would even be considered as adopters because Sadie was in South Carolina and we were two states away.  A string of emails with DRNA and Sadie’s foster dad followed, and on Friday, we were approved and made arrangements to pick her up.  Her foster dad agreed to drive three and a half hours, as did we, to meet in the middle so we could make her ours.  This all transpired very quickly and we are extremely grateful for everyone who played a role in making this happen – the foster families of both Molly & Gunni and Duchess were contacted to vouch for us; Sadie’s foster dad was willing to drive so far with her to make sure she went to a loving home; Jane, the DRNA rep chatted with me on the phone and took care of the paperwork so swiftly – what a phenomenal organization!

With Sadie being 12, we don’t know how much time we will have with her, but we do know it will be fabulous.  We got Molly at age 14 and only had her a little more than a year.  We got Gunni at 12 and had her for four years.  And we got Duchess at age 15 and had her for almost three years.  So you never know.  The reality is that you never, ever know how much time you will have with a dog, regardless of their age at the time they are adopted.  So we are going to enjoy every minute.

I’ve said it before, but senior dogs are amazing and rescue dogs are amazing.  So a senior rescue dog?  So fantastic.  They appreciate every moment with you – so happy to have a warm blanket to snuggle in, a lap to sleep on, and a home to call their own where they will never have to be afraid or alone again.

As I type this in the car, we are about 15 minutes from meeting our new girl.  We cannot wait.

A little while later...

AND NOW SHE’S OURS!!!!!!

I sat in the backseat with her for the ride home and I don't want to jinx us, but she is the most calm and relaxed Dachshund we've ever seen.  She snoozed beside me snuggled in a blanket and did not make a peep.  She has a tail that wags happily and it is clear that she was loved deeply at her foster home.

When we arrived home, we weren't sure how to introduce her to the other girls...we didn't want all three of them excitedly running at her and scaring or overwhelming her.  So I held Sadie while C lifted up Ginny, Maddy, and Chelsea one at a time so they could sniff each other.  It wasn't long before Maddy was kissing her in the face and Ginny was following her everywhere she went.

Chelsea seems pretty indifferent at this point.  We figure she's just thinking, "Great. Another one."  :-)

Here's Sadie!!!

This was waiting for us when we got home:

Have I ever happened to mention how AWESOME my mom is?  <3

Happy Tails to you!