It is beautiful in Bordeaux right now: the temperatures are comfortably in the teens – Celsius, that is! Lest you think my cold-blooded Canadian genes allow me to survive in frigid conditions (they do… but that’s a secret superpower we don’t talk about…sorry!) – and even the 20s. While I, I am taking the road less travelled by – not travelling at all. By that I mean locking myself in my apartment to work on the big year-end audit, spinning the threads of our analysis into gold for the final report.
I’m following the “down the rabbithole” scientific method.
The benefit of my corporate experience, particularly my Procurement role where I had to sort through mountains of sometimes incomplete data to create solutions, is that I have become very comfortable with scaling said mountains of data quickly, and sketching out assumptions and insights . The downside is that it has not prepared me well for scientific research, which requires a more methodical approach, building insights and conclusions step-by-step from complete and verifiable data. Leaps of insight need to be documented, vectors calculated, rough sketches need to be fully coloured in and referenced. Each attempt to fill in the details leads me down rabbit hole after rabbit hole. Hmmm… this gets curiouser and curiouser…
Hours, or maybe days later… Read More
My mother used to make the best icing. Like many of her tried and true recipes, it came from the Joy of Cooking (to this day my first and only cooking bible), and called for confectioner’s sugar, butter, vanilla and cream (and of course food colouring). There were two things that made it so special; the first was that it was only ever made to top birthday cakes (there are 8 in my family, so many opportunities in a year). The second was it was hard icing, unlike the soft butter cream icings that everyone else seemed to prefer. It was the hours-long (!) wait in the fridge between the time the cake got iced and the time it got served, which made it harden. And then when you ate it, the first bite or two of cake was framed with a stiff sugary crust, but then the third bite (assuming you could slow down and make the slice last more than 30 seconds) was when the icing would start to soften and even melt in your mouth if you let it linger on your tongue. That’s what made it sublime.
Vanilla beans, vanilla extract, vanilla flavoured icing. I come by this memory honestly!
The end is nigh! Sort of… it’s rapidly dawning on me that I’m in what feels like the final stretch of this program. At the time of writing, I have only two months left of school, followed by a month of travel and wrapping up in Bordeaux, then a summer-long internship in Canada (more on that later) and then a thesis defence back in France to finish the final year. Even though there’s technically 10 months to go, being able to go home in three months makes the program feel much shorter, even though it’s getting very busy. Read More
The official story is that I was waiting for the list of ingredients from our wine pairing dinner in Halifax over the holidays; but a slightly more true reason is that I’ve been enjoying the down time a little bit too much. Between the…. erm.. let’s call it ‘steady’ pace of work at Unilever, and the equally intense pace of what I expect entrepreneurial vineyard development to look like post-Master, I can’t help enjoying being a little lazy now and then, while I can. You got me, I was catching up on sleep! (An alternative fact of the matter is that the pairing portion of the story started getting too long, so I’m separating it into its own blog post, and also I got distracted making some pretty charts and graphs for the audit I’m working on. You know how it goes.) Read More
No, I blame YOU. (Dammit…he has a point.)
It must have been a case of wild optimism to expect to finish a blog post while in the home of a toddler over the holidays. I had every intention (for the first three days or so) of writing – had actually sat down to write, taking advantage of the time zone change and resulting lag in my own circadian rhythms and the fact that I was waking up 2-3 hours before everyone else in the house. Only to realize that said toddler was ALSO waking up 2-3 hours before everyone else and instead of writing, I was busy playing lullabye versions of rock songs (it’s never too soon to start a musical education), tearing up various food stuffs into tiny hand-sized portions, making faces at said toddler, and wiping aforementioned food stuffs off various and sundry surfaces. (Were those writer’s blocks that I just stepped on?). Read More