Defense, and empowerment

In the wake of the #MeToo movement and learning about some of the experiences of friends and family, I decided to take a self-defense course. I did a bit of research and learned that martial arts wasn't what I wanted: many people said I'd need to take years of classes to get what I needed.

Instead, I found an empowerment self-defense class. For 10 weeks, I learned skills to limit or stop harassment, set boundaries, intervene with bystanders, AND physically defend myself. I could talk all day about what I now know- that when I know how to set boundaries with strangers, friends, or loved ones, I limit the opportunity they have to take advantage of me, whether that might result in emotional abuse, harassment, or sexual assault. I learned (a bit) about how gender based violence and racism interact. I also learned how to defend myself when attacked from front or behind, if my arms and legs are pinned, and or if someone is choking me. As an aside, it's a bit odd to let a stranger to choke each week.

I'm pretty proud of myself for doing it, because sometimes it was hard. At the end of the class, we all wrote down what idea we were breaking on a 3/4" board, and then broke it with our fists. So now I have proof that I'm better prepared.

Happiness

Once a month I attend a Vespers service at the Unitarian church downtown (which I describe as the "church without God" in halting Spanish, to the amusement of my Spanish tutor). Their vespers is a solid hour of repetitive singing and silence, in the Taize style.  This is one of my favorite parts of the month, and I've been going religiously (hah!) since I discovered it a few years ago.

Last night, I attended and while I was singing I realized I was happy. It felt good, and odd, and was something I haven't felt in a few months. I don't know if it was the passage of time, or my parents' recent visit, or the spring time, but probably it was all of it put together. I'm feeling better.

R.I.P., Ada

I am deeply saddened to report that Ada the dog has breathed her last. Since Christmas she had been leaky, a condition that old lady dogs are wont to suffer from.  But then she started drinking two or three times her normal amount, and had to wear diapers. Multiple medicines didn't help, and then the vet ran of out tests to suggest. Our best guess was cancer. Ada was happy most the time, but also starting to be uncomfortable, and I was exhausted from trying to be home, every four hours day and night, to let her out and change her diaper. I spent a final week trying to cram every day with hikes, treats, and visit to her favorite friends, and on Friday we put her to sleep.

We adopted Ada seven years ago, pretty much the day after Andrew agreed to get a dog. At first her time with us was nerve wracking, as she showed signs of tracing the cat (a precursor to attacking) and fought with a neighbor dog. But intensive training turned her into a well-mannered, quiet dog who seemed to be really happy. She loved to swim and hike, and conned every roommate I've had into becoming her best friend. Several neighbors kept treats just for her, and she could recognize their cars when they drove by during our walks. One of her dog sitters included her in the acknowledgements of his doctoral dissertation, and at least one small child afraid of dogs found the first dog that she didn't fear. She was a beloved companion for me in the years after Andrew died, but she was really his dog.

I'll admit that having both of my pets die in the last month has pretty much gutted me. Add the death of my maternal uncle, and I can only hope that I won't repeat the past few weeks any time soon.

Winter retreat

We had a long weekend recently, and I used it as an excuse to schedule one of my weekend getaways. These are pretty easy to organize now - I just look for an Airbnb within driving distance of the city. They need to have a kitchen and accept dogs, and then I'm all set.  It doesn't really matter where I go, because there are always parks nearby far hiking. And since too many restaurants are a disappointment, I self-catered the trip. I've realized that I'm really just paying for the excuse to ignore all my household chores.

At the last minute, I learned that Shenandoah National Park was closed due to a recent storm.  I found a state park with a long trail following a river, which make it beautiful in spite of the lack of green and warmth. The dog had a great time as well. She does not understand the purpose stepping stones, and we had to ford of number of tributaries, but swimming in near-freezing water didn't seem to faze her.

I spent half my time reading and half my time reflecting. I've done enough retreats now that I'm just doing tune-ups, checking on whether I'm still living my life the way I want to. The rest of the time I can spend enjoying my Victorian detective fiction and whiskey.

R.I.P., Molly

Molly the Cat came to live with me two years ago, after spending most of her life on my parent's Ohio farm. She was a great farm cat, catching mice, avoiding being eaten by hawks, and making a cozy home in the shop. My parents named her Molydenum, but called her Moly for short.

Her retirement home, aka my house, was a place she loved even more. She happily slept in a bed directly under a heater vent, and won over even my non-cat-loving roommates. She mellowed in her old age, which made children love her. The could pick her up, carry her around, and basically pet her forever, and she reveled in it. In fact, she has a fan club spanning the globe, and was not infrequently the subject of fan mail portraits colored in markers.

She loved all people, was afraid of nothing except hawks, and hated all dogs with a passion. She filled a cat-shaped hole in my life, but she was in her late teens and I knew her time was coming to and end.

On Sunday night I let her out for a quick tour of the backyard, but she found a hole in the fence and never came back. I very much suspect that she curled up in a cozy place under a neighbor's shed and never woke up. She had a good life, and she will be missed.

Ottawa

Until I planned this trip, I'm not sure I could have identified Ottawa as the capital of Canada. But now I have learned about 1000% more about the Canadian government.

I tacked on a one-day vacation to my work trip, reasoning that it might be decades before I came to Ottawa again. Yesterday I toured Parliament, which is the building that houses the Members of Parliament and the Senate. There are very few tourists in Ottawa in January, so my tour group was given lots of time to poke around. One of the most surprising facts I learned (mainly from the tour guide's reaction to one of my questions) is that most Americans think we won the War of 1812 and most Canadian think they won the War of 1812. Upon later reading, I learned that the British don't waste any time thinking about that inconsequential war, and historians are divided.

View from the Peace Tower at Parliament Hill

My timing was fortuitous, because in about a week the building will close and will not reopen for at least ten years. This is part of an ambitious renovation plan, in which they will remove every stone, take it off-site, and clean it. They will then reconstruct everything, placing every stone in the original position, and replace all the wiring, plumbing, carpets, etc. This plan does not seem terribly efficient to me, but perhaps I am a cold, non-traditional American who does not value historic buildings enough.

And to be fair, I am a cold American. It didn't makes sense to to take a taxi or Uber when all the students were hiking. In addition, they are having trouble keeping up with the plowing and there aren't many cars on the road. When I travel, I like to walk to gain perspective on the city and to get exercise. But today I may splurge on one car trip, because dragging my suitcase in the snow yesterday was rough going.

My new-found government knowledge also helps me understand an event at the conference. These conferences are for undergraduate women physicists. Often, senior women in physics will make extra effort to attend and participate in these conferences, even though the audience is smaller and less influential than those they normally talk to, because these women want to support those following in their footsteps. The third woman to ever receive a Nobel Prize in Physics, which happened in 2018, spoke at the meeting. Just like the other participants, I was excited. However, I was puzzled at the gasps of delight when they played a recorded video greeting by a bilingual woman who welcomed us to tho conference and told us about the importance of physics. After my trip to Parliament, I realized the woman was Julie Payette, the Governor General of Canada, who is the Queen's representative in Canada; she also happens to be an astronaut who worked on the ISS. Now I feel just a little bit more culturally aware.

Cold

January in Canada. I work on a project that organizes a dozen conferences every MLK Jr. weekend, and I am always assigned to the Canada conference. Thus,  I am in Ottawa. I don't want to complain too much, because travel outside the US is rare in my job and I relish the chance to enjoy a different country. Canada isn't exactly terra incognita, but there are subtle differences in the culture.

However, this year I'm also dreading the weather. The forecast tomorrow is for a low of -23C (-9F) and my words just fail me when I consider it. Technically I am a native Minnesotan, but I have grown accustomed to the relatively balmy winters in DC. On top of that, the conference is hotel is a mile from the conference center, and we are expected to walk every day. This is one of those cultural differences - I simply couldn't ask Americans to walk a mile each way in professional clothing to a meeting. Although some Americans are athletic, ill health or inactivity or age would prevent a sizable number of meeting attendees from doing that kind of hike. When I was complaining to a colleague about this, she gave me good advice: "You're an American. Call an Uber." So I'm going to see if I can tough out the cold and walk, but I'll keep my phone with me just in case.