Oh Yeah...

We did actually get married (in case you were holding your breath on that)!

July 2, 2010. It was the most perfect of days. Two beautiful girls in blue, surrounded by family and friends, hanging at the 100 year old St. Albert Grain Elevator Park and Train Station, declaring their love for one another in a beautiful iris (Kay's favourite flower) ceremony.

I can still feel how my heart quickened when I walked up and stood in front of Kay; I had to get reminded by our officiant that there would be time for kissing later. As my mom used to say, it was only gorgeous.

Following the ceremony, we walked to the St. Albert Community Hall (which had been the site of many a night of debauchery for many of our guests) and entered as wife and wife to none other than the Buffy theme. In memory of those who could not be there (most notably, Kay's mom and dad and my mom), I sang Good Mother by Jann Arden with my wee brother Bri on the guitar. Then my brothers Conor and Sean came up with their guitars and we did 8 Days a Week by the Beatles (the first song I ever sang to Kay). My Faaather also sang us a lovely tune.

It truly was a grand night and we've been living in wedded bliss for just over three years now! There have been some wonderful travel adventures in those three years as well, so hopefully I'll do a little updating.

Engaged!!!

I had planned to ask on the 27^th. It would have been my parents’ 40^th wedding anniversary, so it held a lot of meaning for me. I bought the ring on December 6 (which incidentally, was the 5 month anniversary of the day we met). It is a white gold Claddagh and inside I had inscribed go deo which is Gaeilge for forever. Of course once I had the ring, I wanted to ask her every bleedin’ time I saw her! I had to seriously stop myself quite a few times by gentle internal reminders that a commercial break during Bones was probably not the most romantic time to ask the woman of your dreams to spend the rest of her life with you.

Yesterday morning I woke up and said to myself this is the day to do it! (Yes, I do partake in a lot of internal dialogue.) I kind of realised that although the 27^th has a lot of meaning for me, it would be better for Kay and I to have a day of our own to share. Winter Solstice is all about new beginnings and what better day to start this wicked journey. It was also—incidentally—the five month anniversary of our first kiss. I figured that if I asked before the holidays (and she said yes) then we could all celebrate her as a new Duffy together. Most of all, I had already waited 15 days and was coming very close to justifying the romanticism of Bones commercial breaks.

The day was just like any, with Christmas in the air as well as a heck of a lot of blowing snow! I had planned for us to go for a walk on the grounds of the Alberta Legislature and casually asked Kay if she would be up for that. She was but only after she went on her run. The crazy weather meant she got home from work late, so her run went until about 8:30. Meanwhile I was plan B-ing as much as I could. I thought about going up and asking her on her treadmill, making her come outside in the backyard, finding an episode of Bones to put on and simulating a commercial break... Luckily, she was still up for the walk!
So, we bundled up in long-johns and touques and went to see the lights and ice sculptures at the Leg. As I walked her around to the Centennial Flame, I took the opportunity (as any self-respecting Social Studies teacher is wont to do) to talk about Canadian Confederation. Of course as any self-respecting American is wont to do, Kay took the opportunity to dis my nation and the fact that Canada has “technically only been its own country since 1982.” It was a beautiful lead in to what I had planned! :)

As we approached the Flame, which is eternal, we had to sing a few bars of Eternal Flame by The Bangles. Then Kay asked me to teach her something else. I looked into her eyes and said “you are everything I want, you are everything I need.” I was trembling a little (not just because of the cold) as we hugged, and said “I want to be your everything, forever” then whispered “Will you marry me?” Kay said “Of course” but I don’t think she realised how serious I was until she saw the little velvet box in my mitt. Luckily she didn’t take her answer back!

Sure

Regrets are only useful if you learn from them. This is a sentiment I try to live by but am ignoring for today.

Today is the second anniversary of the day my mom died. It is weird how time plays tricks; it seems so long ago that most of it is a blur and yet there are moments and visions so burned into the space behind my eyes that they could have happened five minutes ago. Moments I wish I had handled differently, visions I wish I could unsee, could wipe away. These memories often come unbidden and serve the sole function of depriving me of sleep or breath, but sometimes-on days such as today-I allow myself to explore them, explore the pain within those last few days in the hope of being sure. I know I loved my mom, wanted and needed her. But I need to be sure my mom knew she was loved. I need to be sure my mom knew she was wanted. I need to be sure my mom knew she was needed.

It is too late to be sure.

Feet on ground, heart in hand, facing forward, be yourself.

I left my heart in West Cork

If anyone can believe it, the last time I was in Ireland was in 1980! I was a rambunc-

tious 6 year old who managed to get her foot stuck in the spokes of a bike wheel and crack open her skull after falling off a door in the space of about two weeks, prompting my relatives to request that my mom take me home and never bring me back! So, I haven’t been back since and now I don’t know why I ever stayed away.

I know I went on about how Africa feels like home to me, but within just a few minutes of my arrival in West Cork, I knew my spirit was home. The quilted hills that look soft enough to bounce on, the low-lying clouds that really make you feel like heaven is only just out of reach, the colourfully painted storefronts alternating with enough pubs for every hour of the day... I know you’ve heard it all before, but it is all true! I guess I’ll have to live 6 months in Africa and 6 months in West Cork! Although it is possible that the Guarda (or cops) in Skibbereen might take objection to me living there if they realise I was the one belting out Hey Mickey right at them while they were trying to close an illegally open pub or that I, too, was the one dancing on the table to Summer of ‘69 (justifying it with ‘C’mon, he’s Canadian!) while my cousins and little brother Brian looked on in horror and concern (Brian was very concerned that my dismount off the table would be very dangerous). Long story short, if I can get past the cops, I will definitely be back in Skib!

Highlights for the rest of Ireland have included:

-Brian and I realising (a little too late, cuz we were in the middle of some wonderful tunes in a Limerick pub) that not all Irish people sing as much as we Duffys do.

-Inspiring mass hooliganism as my cousin and I hopped the fence (read: broke into) the most westerly point of Ireland.

-Sleeping in a hallway on Christmas Eve cuz there was literally no room in the Inn!

-Treating Aman (and most of the street) to another performance of the Duffy Family Singers during the Literary Pub Crawl in Dublin (the poor girl couldn’t get a word in).

-Going head to head (and losing) with my big brother Conor in a trivia contest at the end of the above mentioned Literary Tour. In my defence, he IS a literature teacher.

-Stepping into The Dragon on New Year’s Eve in Dublin and very quickly realising that Karen, Aman and I would have to keep a really close eye on Sean, because the boys were far too pretty and the music was way too good!

-A trip to Belfast where, despite the sobering effects of this beautiful and sometimes troubled city, Aman and I managed to take in 6 pubs in one day (including the test-your-Fate pint in the often bombed Europa Hotel). And just to show you how generous the Irish are: they ordered up a blizzard for us to drive home in, so I could get all prepped for frosty Edmonton!

-The culmination of a fantastic journey on Dec 31^st, 2007, as The Jacket of the Clan of the Travelling Black Gold returned home to The Guinness Brewery at St. James’ Gate in Dublin. It was a beautiful experience that would have brought tears to a glass eye. It was made even more beautiful as Aman was accosted by what she assumed were the kids from Angela’s Ashes. That pic (and others of The Jacket) coming soon on facebook.

Yesterday, the last day of my trip, me Faaather and I decided to take in a little archaeology (in a desperate attempt to balance all the heretofore debauchery) and headed to Newgrange, a magnificent mound tomb built in 3200BC (that’s 500 years before the Pyramids, folks!) to align perfectly with the sunrise during the Winter Solstice. Then on to the Hill of Tara, the magical Druid seat of Irish power until St. Paddy came in a screwed them all over. It was a fantastic end to a fantastic journey, and we managed to find a pint anyway!

So there is it: after taking the decidedly long way home, I return to Canada. For those of you still reading, thank you for sharing in these 8.5 weeks, 600 pounds of pasta, 1000’s of works of art, one pasty Jesus, 14 tonnes of chocolate, 1000’s of birds that might or might not retake the world, gallons of sangria, one Atlantic Ocean, one Sahara Desert, 1 million sheep, one absentee Muffin Man, one millilitre of Ewan McGregor spittle, 5 million gallons of Guinness, 732 potatoes, and the best cousins a girl can ask for.

Love,

Jen

December 27th, 2007

Today, December 27^th would have been my parents’ 38^th wedding anniversary. It is also the day my father, 3 brothers, cousins, aunts, and I spread my mom’s ashes on the land of her childhood farm in West Cork, Ireland. My mom always longed for Ireland, for home; she was West Cork and I don’t think she really ever left... and now she can rest here forever. For those of you who knew her, thank you for being a part of her life. For those of you who didn’t know her, pretty much all the good that I am stems from her, so you knew her through me. To all of you, thank you so much for your support. I could not have gotten through this without you. I miss my mom everyday but I am also grateful for the 32 years I was lucky enough to have her.

I love you all and hope you had a wonderful Christmas.

J

Le Petit Prince, The Muffin Man and Obi Wan Kenobi

This was my third trip on to the continent of Africa and although there is no way to lump the thousands of languages, tribes, and cultures into one, nor to assume to know anything after such a short time there, the whole place feels like home to me. Perhaps it is because people as a species came from Africa or perhaps it is because every country I have visited here has offered me a completely life-altering experience.

Senegal was no different. Now don’t get me wrong, there are some interesting aspects to a vacation in Senegal: sheep outnumbering people on buses and on the street, the constant need to pray to the Sphincter God to help you with control, the chihuahua-sized cockroaches. But there is also the oddly comforting call to prayer five times a day, the wonderfully bulbous baobabs making the place look like a young Fangorn forest or the dream home planet of the Little Prince, the fire of the sunrise over the ocean and the pastels of the sunset over the desert, the friendly and open nature of everyone you meet, the meticulous tea making ceremony designed not only to make good frothy tea but to ensure that there is time for good conversation while it is being made, the fact that waiters assume you are American if you get too excited about ordering a Long Island Iced Tea, the birds who are far more in tune with their magnificent dinosaur ancestry, and the colour everywhere as nobody is afraid to mix and match patterns!

Aman and I had possibly more fun than we deserved, realising that with all we have seen in our young lives we are, in fact, the luckiest (or most spoiled) gals in the world!

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It is surprising even to me that I have never been to London. After 35 countries or so, I suppose I can recognise the pattern that I tend to gravitate to non-English speaking countries and away from big cities. So, being the biggest English city, London was not at the top of my list. Man-o-man, does that list need to change as in one day I fell in love with London. It is seriously the world at your feet. My brothers Conor and Brian met me Saturday morning and we proceeded down to the theatre district to try to see either Ian McKellen in King Lear or Ewan McGregor in Othello (how are those for choices!). King Lear seemed futile, so we headed to the Dunmar to see if there were any tickets for Othello (surprisingly undaunted even after hearing that they were going on EBay for $2000!). During our wanderings, we came across a street called Drury Lane. So, I did what I am sure all of you would have: tried to find the Muffin Man. Sadly we were unsuccessful (even after strategically placing a Starbucks muffin as an offering), so we contented ourselves with some nice shots of the muffin, the Guinness Jacket, and the Drury Lane street sign.

Things looked futile as we reached the Dunmar, the show was sold out and it was unlikely that there would be any tickets returned on a Saturday afternoon. Feeling somewhat whimsical, however, we decided to wait and see. How lucky were we: three seats, pretty much on the stage (in a theatre which held only about 400 people)! I was so close that as the actors entered and exited the stage their cloaks and swords hit me in the knee! At one point, Ewan (who played Shakespeare’s villainous wordsmith Iago brilliantly) was standing right beside me and I could feel the spit as he emphatically delivered his line. Creepy and cool!!! The guy who played Othello, Chiwetel Ejiofor (Kiery Knightly’s husband in Love, Actually and, more importantly, the bad guy in Serenity) was also bloody brilliant! To have seen Shakespeare put on by such amazing players in such an intimate setting is one of the coolest things I have ever done!

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My first day in Ireland consisted of this: me faaather picked me up from the airport, took me to a pub he was banned from as a young lad (we couldn’t actually get in so I am pretty sure the bouncer recognised my dad and quickly locked the doors), then to the baptism of my newest cousin, after which we watched Man U beat Liverpool 1-nil in a dreadful game and then Arsenal beat Chelsea 1-nil in a beautiful match whilst drinking Guinness, followed by trips to two separate pubs to drink...wait for it...more Guinness (I figure I’ll drown whichever stomach parasite I contracted in Senegal with Guinness). So, within three hours I had had three Guinness, been to church and watched football; the quintessential Irish experience!

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The Jacket has made appearances at the Atlantic Ocean; in the Sahara Desert; at the two major tourist destinations in London: Big Ben and Drury Lane; and has now made it home to Ireland. I did think very seriously about having my brother take a picture while I tackled Ewan McGregor and forced the Jacket on him, but thought that might be a bit over the top... But you do get to see the Jacket worn by someone other than me on this trip: Aman, my very wee cousin Jessica (who proves that the thing does not actually fit everyone!) and my wee brother Brian. So, enjoy that nice change of scenery on facebook.

I hope this finds you all well and happily getting ready for Christmas.

Love,

Jen

Flying Solo

Barcelona is a city that inspired two men who saw the world from a completely different perspective than that of the rest of us. Who saw the world in fluid, undulating lines rather than straight ones. Who saw the world from all angles possible.

Antoni Gaudi was an architect in the late 19^th early 20^th centuries who did not build or design structures, but rather seemed to grow them from rock. Sure, I can be awed by a magnificent church or a beautiful theatre, but to be honest, I am generally much more excited by ruins of modern buildings. However, I was absolutely blown away by what Gaudi has done. Every building he created is an organic experience, from buildings that looks like waves swelling on the sea or skeletal complexes filled with oblique and curved angles, to a whole park designed with Hansel and Gretel in mind, to a massive cathedral that seems to breathe and surge with life, with glowing stained glass, columns that look like insect legs, and tangled spires that that heave above the skyline. It was truly awe-inspiring.

And then there is Pablo Picasso, who turned the world of art on its axis by realizing that a painting, while beautiful, is only representing a single snapshot of time; a single snapshot of the subject’s being. Instead, why not try to portray all aspects of your subject at once by looking at them from all angles? Sure, it looks kinda funky, with eyes and noses all over the place and of all shapes and sizes, but if you look at it realising that you are seeing that subject not just from the front, but from the back, the side, below, above… all at once, it truly blows your mind. My immense thanks to EB, a wonderful art guide, for helping me to actually see it all and for putting up with questions like: “Now, why is this art?”

What is most wonderful is that these two geniuses in turn inspired the city, as Barcelona seethes with passion and culture. If you have never been, I recommend it highly!!! If you have been, go back!

On Thursday, EB went back to Korea (I won’t go into how difficult that was for me, but if you’ve seen the penultimate scene in There's Something About Mary, when Ben Stiller is leaving Mary’s house, you’ll have an idea of how I was in the Rome airport) and I have found my way to Dakar, Senegal to hang with Aman (my intrepid and perennial travelling companion who is saving the world one West African city at a time through the Red Cross).

I find my mind awash in languages; Korean, Italian, Spanish, and now French. I invariably say ‘si’ for yes and ‘aniyo’ for no. I am worried that come crunch time, sentences like Dove est el hwajanshil? or Aniyo, je non habla Francais. or Vorrei deux cervasas, juseyo. will come spilling from my mouth. It is all a very exciting and welcome side-effect of being a nomad!

Love you all and hope you're well!

J