Plotters Plot

Ugh.  Autumn is definitely here.  It's chilly and damp outside, and I'm glad to not need to go out.  Instead, I made my fellow "plotters" come to me!  We had tea, devised a plan, assigned duties... things are taking shape. 

Paul comes up to visit, but mostly stays away until dinner.  And then it was all, "Stop saying kolrabi!"  But that's what's in the dish...

Lise, Puppy, and Vitasoy

A day of digging (in the garden) was capped off with a barbeque at Erik's.  The occasion?  Lise's debut!  Erik's sister had plenty to talk about (possibly including embarrassing stories -- if only we had asked?)

However for me, it was Sharon and Mike's puppy that stole the show.  How could you say no to that face?

Either way, Erik had a special drink treat.  A toast with quinoa Vitasoy!  Unfortunately, it's a far cry from the malted and original versions I drank (and loved) in childhood.  Paul downed a shot and made a face.  Steph sipped it and made a similar (if less intense) one.   We passed on seconds.

Bacon Marmalade

Weird.

Understated Surprises

Phone calls from Mom and Mum, pictures of Benny C from Steph... it was shaping up to be a pretty nice birthday. 

And then there were Paul's plans.  They were a secret, a surprise... until he gave me some clues.  No to my tutu and tiara and, again, I didn't need any scuba gear... And between travelling there and connecting the dots I guessed right!  Zen for dinner!  Oh, so delicious. 


It is better to not know and then to guess because it makes me feel smart!

Our bellies full of sushi, we walked back to bus stop.  Would you know it?  We pass a laundromat!  Yes, I started singing. 

Back at home, there were also surprise presents.   

Hidden behind Bessie Tuba's case was a terracotta strawberry planter.  How the heck did he get it home?!  Regardless, I immediately started thinking it would make a great House Hippo play centre (with water features...)  Or, you know, just a really cool planter with tall grass right in the top. 

There were chocolates from Sweet Lollapallooza Confectionery. 

And then, something that looked a bit like rolls of toonies... but they were weighted at one end... nail polish?  And it was!  It was all Pretty in Pink.  (Pretty sure if they ever sold a "House Hippo" pink I'd buy it, even if it didn't work for my skin tone - even better, that could be the first colour I create!) 

The last I could tell was a memory stick, but what was on it?  Oh, hip hop music!  Just what I needed to practice dancing.  Um... but did you listen to lyrics?  

"In fairness, a bunch of misogynistic and racist songs makes a great gift." 
"In fairness?  Maybe "in furnace"? 

They do have a great beat.  I pop some moves and immediately hear my joints crack (the original popping).  But really, it's Coconut who has the best "Hard Knock Life" moves!

I always feel a little sad and anxious about birthdays, but this one has been really nice in a quiet way.  (Last year was really nice in a loud way.)  And just in case I was worried about getting older / looking older, Paul tells me a story: When he went to make some prints of our photo shoot, the clerk asked, "Is that your daughter?"  Maybe a bit creepy for Paul, but silly me was happy! 

More Plants

I arrived right at 11 a.m. and people were already digging.  So this is what you get when "Free Plants" on kijiji is involved. 

Turns out the people who posted the advert and confirmed with an email ('Come at 11 a.m.') were Chris and Sarah!  What a small world. 

Their was to move East, though no they don't have jobs set up yet.  The house has sold and was going to be knocked down - hence free plants for anyone who wants to recover them. 

I try to keep my eye on what's available while I chat and get updates.  Dang people, you move fast.  The super lush "horticultural" front and "natural / native" back was definitely holey.  Years and years had gone into the making and in minutes...



Me: "Can you eat that?"  How about that?" 
Chris: "Why do you keep on trying to eat everything?" 


Sarah's stopped TAing, but they're still taking pre-bronze dance classes.  She said I was one of their favourite instructors.  Aw!  Though really, was it because I would pick on Chris?  :P 




I wish them all the luck and thank them for sharing their plants.  I don't expect to recreate their spectacular garden, but hopefully, some of it will survive since I got them in the ground right away. 

I now have:
- Astible
- Saskatoon
- Wild Bergamot (bee balm!)
- Wild Mint
- Wild Strawberries
- Gaillardia
- A purple coneflower 
- A bench!   

I now need:
- Some rest.

The moon, beautiful.

The day after Mid-Autumn Festival, Paul gives me a moon cake for my Chinese birthday.   Oh, yeah!

Reckless at Audrey's

The basement was standing room only - not what I expected for a poetry book launch.  I snuck into the back quietly, hoping to create less of a disturbance than the official photographer's outfit (whoa, bright floral print!).  

The 2013 Quartet from Frontenac House

A Bitter Mood of Clouds, by Vivian Hansen (Calgary)

Reckless Toward Blossoming, by Deborah Lawson (Edmonton)

Music Garden, by Jim Nason (Toronto)

Incarnate, by Juleta Severson-Baker (Calgary)

It had taken a little longer to get from hip hip class (supposedly easier than the demo, but still had me aching and sweaty) to Audrey's Books, but thankfully Deborah's portion had not started yet.  Deborah was the reason I was there.  Deborah, part of the Editors Association, had invited Paul (who was seated, listening intently). 

Anyway, I was glad when Deborah started.  Her voice and delivery were lovely.  Hers were short pieces that quickly painted feelings and images before ending / wrapping up with wit.  I was surprised by the topics, some so intimate I could imagine only reading or writing about them - not speaking them aloud. 

After the readings, we ventured upstairs for snacks.  I had some wine.  Paul stuck mostly with the cheese.  We both looked at the cool books and calendars.



















I met Deborah and other editors and we headed over to BP's for drinks (though obviously, I'd had enough).

I listened and chuckled as Anita expressed herself.  She says she's a country girl (despite not liking the music and living in the city) and will never change.  She thinks it's ridiculous that people are going back to doing things for themselves and making a big fuss about it (e.g. making bread and jam, growing your own vegetables) - she did all that as a child and was glad to be rid of it!


Whereas, Eva, an extremely friendly ex-American-now-Canadian, was very interested in cooking from scratch and such, and assured me souffles are easy.  Carrie, who has gone through the professional writing course at Grant MacEwan, was into zombie novels (and blue drinks).

They are a fun and funny group.  I can see why Paul likes hanging out with them. 

Skirt Chasing

What is my style?  Seems like such a stupid question, but really need to pare down the closet (and the overflow boxes).  But I really don't know what I want.

The fashion show that is commute to work (yes, I'm looking school girls' clothes) and I'm drawn to the cute and quirky:

1. Pale green chiffon skirt with tiny Scottie dog print
2. Hobbit map skirt
3. Asymmetrical (hi-low) hems - sexy despite the shortest part being knee length
4.  Tiered layers of crochet

Reminds me the cow printed fabric I bought with Catherine at that garage sale!  Which box is that even in? 

Anyway, they are mostly (all?) hardly work appropriate...

Brendan and Cristen's House Warmed

A dungeon basement... but also an upstairs bathroom with two taps - the ability to control amount of hot or cold water coming out of the faucet! Brendan and Cristen's 1920s house was certainly something.  Also on the plus was a garden that had lots of growing potential! 

As the house filled with a different group of Mathies (one I wasn't so familiar with) for their housewarming, it became standing room only in the kitchen / dining area. 

Cristen was friendly, and before long I found myself sitting in the "sitting room" with her and majority of the other ladies. 

Paul and I had to skip out early.  Whyte Ave certainly wasn't so convenient as it used to be.  But on the train ride back, Paul found something "mildly" interesting to keep us awake.

Malcolm's Feast

Arrived a late for Malcolm's Feast, but in Malcolm's regular fashion, cooking was still very much in progress.  Paella was simmered in a large covered wok (when opened, revealed huge shrimp) over a fire pit.  People were sitting, talking, and having drinks.

The garden around us seemed even more incredible now I know a little more about the plants and what it takes to keep a yard.  Those 4' planters with begonias - petals tasting like apple (Malcolm pulled some for us sample) - would need overwintering, and maybe even the plants would need to be dug out and specially stored...


Met Louise, a Quebecois who has a wonderful laugh.  She was so charismatic and charming - magnetic!  I found out she studied Arctic fish and heading out soon for more field work. 

Spoke to Mr. Anderson.  No surprise that he appreciates mechanical (self-winding) watches.  Perhaps no surprise either that my fake Phillipe Patek would die while we talked about the craftsmanship and technology of timepieces.  (His and Paul's self-winders, however, continued to go strong.)

I managed to be beat Steph to the chocolate spoon! 

Erik had broken his bike on the way to Malcolm's, which meant I actually could offer him a ride home!  It was a great turn of tables (or perhaps revenge?).  I got to tell him not to be afraid. 

In all that though, it turns out I forgot my back pack.  Just like last time...

The Kindness of Neighbours

or _A Car Spray You Desire_ 

Aimed and sprayed.  And it wasn't pretty, but perhaps it would do.  The weather gods finally cooperated with a dry and not too hot or too cold day when I was free, so the car spray paint (the real reason we went to Canadian Tire) could be put to use.

Dad had scraped the car quite badly in a parking lot on a concrete divider .  Both right side doors and frame were scraped. And a part of me felt glad: it's not just me who's dinged the car!  And, this is much worse than anything I've done!  But of course, a bit worried too: was this just bad luck or an indication of something bigger?  I know I shouldn't be the one to talk. Jack and Jeff thinks Dad shouldn't be allowed to drive any more... and they say the same for me. 

I waited for the paint to dry and neighbour Sukh comes by.  Who knew?  Sukh's worked in a auto body garage!  He immediately showed me what I should have been doing:

1. Properly clean off the area
2. Tape off areas that don't need paint
3. A steady and light touch on the spray can button - many light coats
4. Keep moving! 

The first step, I tried again.  The second, I found I didn't have masking tape.  But that didn't matter, because I fully surrendered the spray can to Sukh, and he took care of steps three and 4, gently blending in the painted edges.  Like a man with no knee pain, he crouched low and evenly transferred his weight from side to side, while applying a fine mist of paint.  Wow.  The motion was hypnotic.

He used the whole can and it was a far cry from my blotchy job.  He added if I had a gloss paint we (he) could make it match the rest of the car even more.  But already it was so impressive!  I thanked him profusely.  There's no way Dad's going to mistake the work for mine - and that's good.  A big yay for helpful and handy neighbours!

Dirk Gently and Carry a Big Shtick

Paul has always defended the short British comedy series.  Green Wing (his favourite): 18 episodes.  The Office (British version, of course): 14 episodes.  Things don't get stale.  There's no jumping the shark.  But even he thinks Dirk Gently was just too short: 4 episodes, 1 series.  There was still plenty to explore!  But that was that. 

We watched the 4 episodes over the week after discovering the DVD while browsing at the library.  It was silly, it looked great, and it was just enough like what we remembered the books to be (though apparently - not exactly). 

It got us talking about comedy again.  I'd like to think I've developed "some thing" since my Lessons in Humour, but still, I don't do a lot of analysing.  I wanted to call this series comedy.  But Paul countered comedies are about the gags, so what are these things that are about plot, but happen to have comedic element?  "Romantic Comedy", I suggested?  But that seems to only cover romance stories... so maybe "Comedic Drama"?  Is there something called "Light Comedy"? 

Wikipedia helps a little with articles on both Film Genre and Comedic Genres.  But I'm still going with "if it makes me laugh it's comedy".  (Unless it's tragedy...)

Consider the Energy

Reading Consider the Fork: How Technology Transforms the Way We Cook and Eat and thinking about waste.  Well, wasteful behaviours. 

In Chapter Two -- Knife -- and Chapter Three -- Fire -- Bee Wilson writes about how Chinese cooking maximizes what is available: 

'The [minimax] idea is a frugal one: the best Chinese kitchen would extract the maximum cooking potential form the minimum number of utensils.  The tou fits the bill... A tou could reduce ingredients to small enough pieces that the flavors of all the ingredients in a dish melded together and the pieces could cook very quickly... It was a thrifty tool that could make the most of scarce fuel: cut everything small, cook it fast, waste nothing."

"Bread, beer, and roast meat were all greedy consumers of firewood; it has been calculated that simply keeping up with London's appetite for bread and beer would have taken around 30,000 tons of firewood in the year 1300, but this was no problem because there was a plenty of well-stocked -- and largely renewable -- woodland in the surrounding counties... The difference with China is stark.  It is true that the Chinese have their own tradition of roast meats... But work frying remains the basic Chinese cooking technique, a cuisine born of fuel poverty.  Every meal had to be founded on frugal calculations about how to extract the maximum taste from the minimum input of energy."

I've half-jokingly said before Chinese people don't mind eating all parts of an animals and what some call weeds because they've had to live through famine, but never thought about fuel scarcity and how that reflected on the food. 

Anyway, it's making me think on how I cook.  My methods are mostly based on time - I avoid things that go into the oven and cook them stove top instead (with expected results...)  But, energy-wise, is this the best way?  Should I learn more Chinese dishes or cook with the microwave?  (Paul cringes at the latter.) 

So many articles online seem to focus on the cost of cooking - comparing electric to gas as well as methods.  But what closest to what I'm looking is at michalbluejay.com, an article on Energy Used By Cooking. It's a bit rambling, but sources a quoted. 

The list "Tips to save on energy and costs when cooking" is pretty enlightening (i.e. Use a crockpot or a microwave oven for baking, use glass and ceramic pans when baking...), but the whole site reiterates again and again that changing what we eat (from meat to vegetables / legumes) would make a much bigger energy difference. 

Garlic time!

Dinner was going to be late.  But how late? 

Peeling the (approximately) 40 cloves was going to take the bulk of the prep time and could be the deciding factor.

Why not then try out Angela's video forward she called "The right way to peel garlic"?  The kitchen hack from Martha Stewart looked miraculous: In goes one head of garlic, shake-shake-shake, and out comes perfectly peeled garlic cloves. 

I'd already pulled the heads apart into cloves, so in my version: In goes (approximately) 40 cloves of unpeeled garlic... 





Shake-shake-shake... and shake-shake-shake some more... and out came...








 

... (approximately) 40 cloves of unpeeled garlic. 

Dang.  I'd really hoped for a big ta-dah moment that would make dinner only slightly later than I'd wanted.  Oh, well.  I got on with it, finished off (started / continued?) peeling the "wrong" way and cooked as regular. 

Looking back on the experiment, I now wonder if keeping the whole garlic head together may have made it work better... and maybe just less of them in the shaker at a time... Though the biggest factor is probably garlic type.  My purple skinned gems had survived intact all the way from China, and were probably of a tougher breed (so I tell myself).

Anyway, I'll try this all again and follow the method to the letter and then we'll see. 

Have you tried upped your garlic-peeling game using this trick?

Do it anyway.

I knew I was going to hurt the next day, but I was so happy to have done them anyway:

1. Hip Hop Class "demo": Which turned out to be all-the-things-that-would-be-taught-in-the-first-4-classes crammed into 50 minutes.  It was way more intense and athletic than I expected for a demo.  I was all flailing arms and kicking feet.  But, oh my, that swagger!  It would be the coolest thing if I ever manage to pull it off. 

2. Put plants into the ground: Dig, dig, dig.  Not sure if I waited too late.  Will the my plants be as hardy as the weeds? 

Plant Memories

It was gardening talk with Catherine Saturday.  As she painstakingly picked out quack grass roots from day lilies, she suggested I grow a labyrinth.  Me pull a Larry's Party on our front yard?  What would Paul say?! (Or do... like Larry's wife?)  Hm... but it would be so cool!  It's certainly one way for me to get rid of the lawn!

This planning though it just open fantasizing.  It's nothing like the real stuff that Catherine's been doing for Oma.  She's made a shelf and created new raised beds (easier on the knees) all the while amassing so much gardening knowledge.

I ask for the tour and learn Oma has never had to pay for any of her plants - they're all collected from other people!  She also remembers where every plant came and from who.  The 10 ft tall tree just inside the fence was once a cutting she put into her wallet and brought over from Germany.  It's all so impressive.  (Though admittedly, the cross border exchange is potentially dangerous for invasive species etc.)

Would I remember each of my plants?  Some I bought, but the majority have been things that were here when we moved in and a few "shares".  Of the latter, a couple are from Catherine, the rest are from Jeannie.  This was the woman who helped me dig in the dark even though she was sick (a tumour she told me).  She didn't have the energy to do that much work on her rock garden so instead of digging things up and throwing out the overgrown bits decided to post "free plants" on kijiji.  People dug out the plants they wanted and her garden would be back to a more manageable / manicured state.

She had directed other who arrived during the day.  For me though, she picked up a trowel, saying I was cute and that some of the plants would actually grow to my size.  She'd given me mint ("I'm Greek, we use a lot of mint but this is too much!"), delphiniums, monkshood, and some small irises... And I was grateful for the bounty, for her sharing.  Her stories though turned these plants into living versions of the things I described in Possession.  But somehow there is less guilt.  All she wanted was a prayer for her to get well.  I could do that.  And I would keep the plants alive to the best of my ability, reminding me of her kindness whenever they sprouted and bloomed.

Analogous Pains

It started out with one of us noticing we both had problems with our left foot...

Then, after falling on the escalator and getting the tetanus shot, my left arm hurts when I try to raise it (just like Paul's).

My scrap right foot scrape seemed minor... until Paul matched it yesterday: a rather random stub managed to break his toe. 

"Are you sure it's broken?"
"It's swelling up and turning purple!"

Mom's often says "My heart hurts when you're hurt" -- but the two of us, we're on a whole new level.

New goal: Stop getting injured.

(Unfortunately, I think this is one of those things that spirals into getting worse and worse... Fingers crossed.)

Ready? Steady? New-school-year-go!

Oh, I am so graceful.  I managed to fall while walking up the escalators (again) and (because I can't remember the last one) was sent for a tetanus shot.  Ouch and ouch some more. 

The plus side of all this: I got to see campus on its first day.

So many people!  And cookies!  I snacked on one of the later while checking out the display for classes at St. Joseph's College.  I'd mistakenly thought they only offered religious studies.  Among their fall line up: Business Ethics, Tolkein, and The Ethics of Hunting ("The professor is really cool, he's over there in the armour").

I made it back to work with another surprise: People (well, a specific person) aren't back from vacation!  Meaning I'd have to do their month end stuff on top of my own.  Ugh, that's just the way things work sometimes...

I'm glad once I'm back at home.  Paul chose one of Bill Bailey's shows to watch and I laughed and forgot for a while about being tired and injured.  I guess we're back to the (fall term) "normal".

Funny Face (and Body)

Encouraged by the nice photos from our March shoot, Paul suggested we do another... outside.

The weather forecast was in our favour... I had some ideas up my sleeve... But the fact we weren't going to be in the house made me anxious: What the heck should I bring? Clothing... props... make-up? I couldn't bring all my stuff (though I could try).

Backpack and one duffel bag full, on campus and quiet spot* found: Here I go!

Jump!  Cartwheel!  Eyes wide awake!  In my head I was Audrey Hepburn in the Funny Face photos (really should see the actual movie...).  But, unfortunately, my energy didn't last. 

It's hard channeling someone I clearly was not / did not look like.  The preliminaries showed me how disappointingly far from the mark I was. 

A change of clothes later, I was completely out of the mood.  We tried some things with scarfs... changed locations... Frustrated and tired, I changed back into my most comfortable outfit and let my hair down.  There was some potential in those last ones before we called it a day.  And then there was the long bus ride home.  I think Paul was still hopeful there were good ones.  I'm not sure. 

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* It was all pretty quiet, but Mr. Anderson and Shannon happened to be there.  He's back in school this term! 

The J Boys Are Back in Town

Canadian Tire -- The place for belt buckles. 

Paul models a musical one (unfortunately, no tubas), but then we find one even more fitting (see 2nd photo).
















After our errand, the whole bunch of us head home - to our house!  I was so excited to show it off to Jack and Jeff (while it was still relatively clean from the house warming).

They seemed to think it was o.k. if a bit boring (no television or game system?!) and were a bit skeptical of our snacks ("It looks... healthy..."). 

The latter wasn't really that big of a concern: They'd bought Kevin and Celina contraband snacks (snuck past parents in their jackets) so had plenty to nosh on while we waited.  My thought: We're going eat dinner in soon!  

Anyway, Dad's birthday dinner was the main feature Jack and Jeff were in town for. 

Though I was glad to see them (alive and in regular spirits) and to play dancing games with them at Celina and Kevin's, I also resented them for pushing me out of the kids' "favourites" rankings -- less than two weeks ago they thought I was great. 

But who can compete with exciting and indulgent cousins?  Certainly not "hipster*" auntie. 

Well, I'm still not going to buy them junk food... at least not large quantities when it's not their birthday.  Take that!



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* Their definition is a mash up of "tree hugging hippy" and "so un-mainstream it wraps around to be almost cool again".