Half Of What I Say Is Meaningless

A Lobster Tale

This officially marks my fifth Halloween as a parent, as a mother responsible for ensuring the Halloween festivities are memorable, are photographed and the children adorned appropriately for the holiday. It seems the rules have changed somewhat this year, leaving me slightly perplexed and unprepared. For it seems that I no longer have a say, with William at the very least. And thus starts the cycle of costumes that I don't find particularly adorable. Boys you know, err on the side of scary, or powerful or monsterish, or in this year's case, combative. Not the costume I would have chosen myself, William is adorned today as a black Power Ranger. This morning he donned his cosutme for school, thrilled at the prospect of the costume parade.  To be honest, he's tried on the cosutme everyday for the past month and exercised his wild Power Ranger moves. This seems to involve a signficant amount of running, jumping and kicking. I cringe at the thought of what he may wear next year. Although he has stated on numerous occasions. "Mommy, I want to wear the 00 Power Ranger Costume, forever And when I grow too big I want to buy the same costume in a bigger size". Sigh.

Thankfully I have Thomas, who is still captive to my powers of persuasion. Thomas is the cutest version of Peter Pan that you ever did see. I will post photos tomorrow. The hat barely covers his giant head, one boot has already been lost, and he wields the dagger with abandon. Still uncertain about how I feel mixing two year olds and fake weapons, but he sure makes me smile. They have both been hyped up on candy for the last four days. Note to self, next year, do not buy any candy until the last possible moment. SHould make for an interesting evening.

But now I'm left thinking back to that first Halloween when William was a baby. I was full of motivation, and ideas (obviously energy as well). Hell bent I was on creating a masterful costume, for you know, my children would only ever wear homemade costumes. Ha. What happened was another baby, scrapbooking, people that didn't notice whether a cosutme was handmade or not, and a child that certainly could not care less. But it was indeed an even that I documented here for all posterity. And is this not the custest baby lobster that you ever did see?

I had envisioned it for years, the perfect homemade Halloween costume. I fondly remembered the handmade costumes I had donned as a child, and now I had my own baby to outfit. No matter that I had not sewn since eight grade Home Economics, nor did I own a sewing machine. In anticipation of the event, I thought nothing of purchasing an expensive sewing machine. I peered into my own future, sewing homemade costumes for numerous children, mending, perhaps I would even sew their clothes. How naive I was. I poured over issues Martha Stewart Baby in search of the perfect costume. Babies and toddlers dressed as various sea creatures captured my attention. You William, would be the most adorable baby lobster imaginable, far more fetching than the well behaved baby in the magazine.

With my rudimentary sewing skills I managed to piece together some semblance of a lobster costume by October 31st. With a Halloween party quickly approaching it was time for you to be clad in the now infamous costume. First was the inevitable escape, with you bolting directly up the stairs. It quickly became apparent that you were unwilling to cooperate. Next came extensive wriggling, and wailing. As we like to say you were spitting mad, perfect for a little red lobster. Finally we achieved resignation and a few photos were taken. You soon realized that if you could somehow pry the claws off your little hands, the lobster hat could be removed in short order.

In all, you stayed fully dressed in your outfit for approximately five minutes total. But you were certainly the hit of the Halloween party, to your parents anyway. The following year you proudly wore a fireman costume we purchased at the BabyGap.

Bon Appetit

I still remember the first blog I had ever come across, The Julie/Julia Project. Now at that point, not nearly as computer savvy as I am today, didn't even know the technical term "blog". Nor were they near as pervasive as they are today.  Sidenote: Did you know that if people continue starting blogs at the current  rate, there would theoretically be one blog for each person worldwide by the year 2009.  Just a little statistic I ran across, cannot confirm its authenticity but regardless it demonstrates something about the medium.

Anyway, this blog was the documentation of one woman's (Julie's) journey through the cook book "Mastering The Art of French Cooking" by the illustrious Julia Child. Julie set out to cook every single recipe, all 524 of them, as per Julia's specific instructions, no substitutions, in her little New York apartment kitchen. And she recounted the process along the way. This is no small feat, the recipes are challenging, the ingredients are crazy, the book is forty years old. Julie by the way is hilarious, a stellar writer. The archives of the blog are a wonderful and engaging read if you ever have a bunch of spare hours.

I was never a completely faithful reader of Julie's blog but I did peek in time to time right from nearly its inception in mid 2002. She did however post diligently until the project was finished sometime in 2003ish. She recounts the passing of Julia Child in this final blog entry - August 13, 2004. Kind of made me a little sad, for I too loved Julia Child. An except from Julie's blog:

"Julia Child began learning to cook when she was thirty-seven years
old.  She started because she wanted to feed her husband Paul.  She
started because though she?d fallen in love with great food late, when
she did she?d fallen hard.  She started because she was in Paris.  She
started because she didn?t know what else to do.   

Who knows how it happens, how you come upon your essential gift?  For
this was hers.  Not the cooking itself so much ? lots of people cook
better than Julia.  Not even the recipes ? others can write recipes. 
What was Julia?s true gift, then?  She certainly had enormous energy,
and that was a sort of gift, if a genetic one ? perhaps the one thing
about her you can pin down on the luck of the draw.  She was a great
teacher, certainly ? funny, and generous, and enthusiastic, with so
much overbrimming confidence that she had nothing to do with the
surplus but start doling it out to others.  But she also had a great
gift for learning.  Perhaps that was the talent she discovered in
herself at the age of 37, at the Cordon Bleu School in Paris ? the
thirst to keep finding out, the openness to experience that makes life
worth living."

That last bit is the one of the reasons I love Julia Child. The passion for learning, for the pursuit of new skills, knowledge. Seeing the value in that. And if there is one thing I could tell you about myself, it's that I have that zest as well. To learn, to know, to understand, the whys, the hows. Of everything, the mundane, the complex, the important and the not so important. I am an insatiable learner, an information seeker, always have been. Sometimes I enjoy the pursuit of information more than I do the actual doing. Case in point, I enjoy reading cookbooks more that I enjoy cooking. As I young child I loved to know how things were made, where they came from. I vividly remember how I watched with fascination the episode of Mr. Rogers where they visited the factory were erasers were made. And we (our family) watched Julia Child on PBS years ago, maybe the "French Chef", can't remember. But I loved it. Again to learn. I still remember her visiting the fig orchard, an episode all about figs. At that point in my life I don't think I had seen an actual whole fig, just semblance of figs in items such as fig newtons etc. Fascinated though with the knowledge, the information. To learn. This too is the quality I most admire in Martha Stewart, that undeniable love of knowledge and the pursuit to share that knowledge. Martha not only will show you how to plant a container of succulents, but she will be able to name every cactus in there. It's the inane, probably unimportant to most people. But wonderful for me. Constantly learning.

Later, (in my twenties) I watched Julia religiously every Saturday morning on PBS, "Baking With Julia", in the days before we had the Food Network. I own that cookbook, and I've tried my hand at bread as per her recipes on several occasion. I am a horrid baker, never able to perfect Julia's "gluten cloak". Sigh. Bread making will never be my forte. But it is indeed a lovely book. Fond memories, of Julia, of pretending to be able to bake.

Why do I bring this up, I will tell you. We were in Costco last night, I was there specifically for a new book. Did not find the one I had originally set out to buy. But I did spy this out of the corner of my eye - Julie & Julia (365 Days, 524 Recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen) by Julie Powell. I knew exactly what it was and I was officially thrilled. Snapped it up, started it last night. What started as a blog evolved into an actual book (in fact I had known that she was indeed writing one, somewhere in the back of my memory), full circle. I will let you know how it is when I am done, although I think it will be fantastic, she has a wonderful voice and the reviews on Amazon are glowing. A review from Publishers Weekly:

"Powell became an Internet celebrity with her 2004 blog chronicling her yearlong odyssey of cooking every recipe in Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. A frustrated secretary in New York City, Powell embarked on "the Julie/Julia project" to find a sense of direction, and both the cooking and the writing quickly became all-consuming. Some passages in the book are taken verbatim from the blog, but Powell expands on her experience and gives generous background about her personal life: her doting husband, wacky friends, evil co-workers. She also includes some comments from her "bleaders" (blog readers), who formed an enthusiastic support base. Powell never met Julia Child (who died last year), but the venerable chef's spirit is present throughout, and Powell imaginatively reconstructs episodes from Child's life in the 1940s. Her writing is feisty and unrestrained, especially as she details killing lobsters, tackling marrowbones and cooking late into the night. Occasionally the diarist instinct overwhelms the generally tight structure and Powell goes on unrelated tangents, but her voice is endearing enough that readers will quickly forgive such lapses. Both home cooks and devotees of Bridget Jones–style dishing will be caught up in Powell's funny, sharp-tongued but generous writing."

So consider my own blog entry today a little celebration if you will. Of Julia, of great food (especially French food - my favourite), of blogs, of a good read, of public television (both PBS and the CBC). And learning, especially learning.

ps. I'm still laughing that Julie calls her blog readers "bleaders", that's a great one.

She Makes The Sign of A Teaspoon...

He makes the sign of a wave.

Just some random thoughts for today.

1. Grey is my new favourite colour. To create with, not to wear. Although I'm not opposed to wearing a dark grey. Medium, light dark. It's my new black.

2. A Million Little Pieces - Wow. I have four pages left to read. One of the most compelling books I've read in a while. Thanks for the recommendation Melissa. The author James Frey will be on Oprah this afternoon. I'm not a regular O viewer, but I am always drawn to her book choices. Some thoughts I had on this book that I shared with friends earlier:

It's his first hand account of his addiction and rehabilitation. One of the most memorable books I've ever read. He has perhaps the most real and honest voice I've ever encountered. He is cocky, arrogant. LIke he recounted so many times, "An alcoholic, a drug addict a criminal". But he is (or was) broken, fragile, authentic, self-aware, very smart. So many layers. I think that I was moved more by his voice than perhaps the actual story. Although the story is an interesting one. But I don't (sadly) think it is a unique one. For me though, the way he captured it, that he even had the presence of mind to remember the details. His style of prose was just very appealing. A brilliant writer. It is depressing, and graphic, and heartbreaking, and disturbing. But it is also hopeful, and honest. Uplifting. A story of love, of friendship, of the relationship between parents and child. Of the commonalities that all human beings share.

Thank you James Frey. For giving me a reason to look deeper into the reality of addiction. To not turn away because it is scary, ugly. For pushing me to engage with empathy. For now I shall be better prepared should my life be touched by an individual struggling with addiction.

3. UNICEF Boxes - When I was young we carried a UNICEF box each year we went trick-or-treating, those orange cardboard boxes that got weighed down with piles of change. I remember the films they showed at my elementary school about the UNICEF program, about poverty. Heavy stuff when you're in grade 1 or 2. Lessons that stayed with me. I was thrilled to find a form in William's backpack last week, a permission slip to receive a UNICEF box to carry this Halloween. We save change all year for this, it seems that the program is not as prominent now as it has been in years past. You can order your own free UNICEF box here.

4. Because Christmas is right around the corner. These cards by Cargo are just way too fun. Lipgloss, Christmas cards, an unbeatable combination. Who would have thought. Totally ordering some of these.

5. Post Secret - I've written about Post Secret before. An amazing idea, " an ongoing community art project where people mail-in their secrets anonymously on one side of a homemade postcard."  I got an email from Frank last week, his book is available for pre-order on Amazon: PostSecret : Extraordinary Confessions from Ordinary Lives. I look forward to picking it up. The concept, the art, and the words, are powerful.The book contains his favourite images and many never before seen postcards.

6. My new favourite song - Doesn't Remind Me by Audioslave - check out the video here. Love Chris Cornell.

Hockey Night In Canada

If by chance you happen to be Canadian, you'll know exactly what I mean (odds are you'll even be able to hum the Hockey Night In Canada theme song). And if you are not, you might find this post a touch curious coming from me. I don't profess to be a major sports fan by any stretch, although my interest is occasionally piqued. I do like some Grand Slam Tennis, the Golf Majors, Figure Skating, Formula 1. And don't bother trying to talk to me for those precious two weeks when the Olympics rolls around, I'm watching...intently.

But here in Canada, hockey is our birthright. It seems to permeate the culture, and is a source of national pride. I catch a game on TV now and then, a sorry excuse for a Canadian. It perhaps has something to do with the fact that I married an atypical man, whose interest in spectator sports is  even less that mine. He did in fact himself play hockey, up until a few years ago. His illustrious (not) career was cut short when he got a year long suspension for some offence I can't quite recall when he was on the Med. School Intramural team at the U of S. Think it was supposed to be a non checking league. I have to laugh because it was so out of character for my husband with the pacifist tendencies.

Anyway, it's nice to not have to live and die by the schedule, and the laboriously long playoff season. As you may know the NHL was on strike last year, and I didn't really think much of it. Until it started up a few weeks back. This just our second year in Ottawa, and I hadn't experienced hockey fever here. Things pretty much just whipped into a frenzy with the onset of the season, this city loves their Senators, they love hockey. Much to everyone's excitement to Sens are one of two (correct me if I'm wrong) undefeated teams this season (6-0). They are contenders, that's cool. Hoping they bring the Stanley Cup home to Canada where it belongs. ;) And it reminds me that I love living in a city with NHL hockey, kind of electrifies everyone. Reminds me of my years in Edmonton, went to university there in the early nineties. Now that is a hockey city, "The City of Champions", although by the time I arrived the glory days had evaporated. In 1988 the collective heart of a country broke as Wayne Gretzkey was traded to Los Angeles. I'm telling you, people here take this hockey stuff seriously.  In those years we went to see quite a few games. The battle of Alberta raged then and I took great pleasure in watching the Oilers decimate my most hated team, the Calgary Flames. And it was there for the first time I watched my Canadiens play (well in person).

Now this is where the story begins. I was born and shall always be a Montreal Canadiens fan. Even if I never watch another televised hockey game for as long as I live (which is not outside the realm of possibility), my loyalty runs deep. Try explaining this one to my husband who still does not have a problem with cheering for either Calgary or Edmonton (blasphemy I explain, you must choose one or the other). Like I said, he's not really a sports fan. Now if you know anything about hockey, you know the glorious saga that is the legacy of the Montreal Canadiens. The winning-est team in NHL with 24 Stanley Cups, the last in 1993. My father a Habs fan from way back indoctrinated me from a young age. Some of my earliest memories, and a significant quantity of my knowledge of the French language, were garnered watching the French CBC every Saturday night. To watch the Canadiens, year in, year out. Sure I was playing with girl toys, doing kid stuff, but it was there a backdrop, that love of a team, a country's love of a game. It imprints on you. And I remember the stories from my Dad (because I remember most everything, I'm rare that way), about Jean Beliveau, about the Rocket,Maurice Richard. Long before my time, yet beloved. I even collected hockey cards in Grade Two, I was the proud owner of a Wayne Gretzky rookie card.  We used to whip those things against the wall in a game only known to me as "playing hockey cards", boys and girls both trying for topsies or leansies. Please tell me I was not the only one who remembers this strange phenomenon.

I remember as a young child my favourite players, Guy Lafleur, Steve Shutt, Larry Robinson, Bob Gainey, all Canadiens of course. I remember (being a BC girl) when Vancouver made a run for the cup in 1982, Kind Richard. Patrick Roy and the 1986 Canadien's cup win over the Calgary Flames, still love that one. Watched with bitterness as they finals resulted in an opposite outcome in 1989. I understand the significance of 9 (Richard) and 99 (Gretzkey) and 66 (Lemieux) and 4 (Orr),  remember too much likely, but it's fond mostly. Like I said, a backdrop to growing up Canadian.

Which brings me to today. As I debate about my own sons playing hockey themselves. I lean towards no, the game is far too rough, violent. I mean, in what other sport is fighting a hallmark of the game. We were sitting in the living room last Saturday night and I flipped past a Sens game on the TV. Stopped briefly. Thomas started shouting, "I want to do that, I want to play hockey". He's 28 months, quite bizarre. I've never particularly prompted it, nor has his father. But he ran right up to the television and was shouting, seemingly frustrated that he wasn't doing it that exact minute. The child was built to play the sport though 40+ pounds, 40+ inches at just over two years old, solid as a freaking house. And it's what little boys (and even little girls) do in Canada. Sigh. Hoping to get both of them up on skates this winter. We will hold off decisions for now.

In the meantime, I have two little boys who are prime to be indoctrinated as lifelong fans of the Habs. I have been meaning for age to pick them up most the wonderful story The Hockey Sweater. The same book I had read as a child, and we often viewed at school, the animated version of the story by the National Film Board of Canada. You can listen to it read by the author Roch Carrier (with the most wonderful French Canadian accent) here - CBC archives. It's a lovely story, well about a sweater. The sweater you can see William wearing above, specifically #9 (I guess they call them jerseys nowadays ;) ). A Maurice Richard sweater. The Rocket he was called, a legend, Canadian royalty. Long before the Great One, long before I was born. But I've heard the stories. He passed away in 2000, and the country mourned. No word of a lie, Richard was given something akin to a state funeral. Last summer there was a exhibit at the Canadian Museum of Civilization, well more like a shrine, a large one. Celebrating all things Richard and all things Canadiens. The boys will likely not remember with the exception of the few (bad) photos I snapped, trying on the sweaters, listening to the play-by play in a booth. It was cool. But hopefully they will look back at the photos and smile, remembering that connection to me, to their grandpa, to their Canadian-ness. Another little piece of what makes us unique.

The Sweetest Thing - List #5

Apparently I was on a list hiatus. I had an awesome suggestion from someone though to keep my lists going. I enjoy the randomness of well random lists, and pretty much all things list-ish, so I intend to do just that. When a list comes to mind, I will list (OK Tina, enough with the word list - consulting thesaurus) and count up from here, this being #5 and all (my original goal).

OK, I got some, list being both verb and noun complicates matters slightly. But for my future reference:

List (noun) - account, agenda, archive, arrangement, ballot, bill, brief, bulletin, calendar, canon, catalogue, catalogue, census, checklist, contents, dictionary, directory, docket, draft, enumeration, file, gazette, index, inventory, invoice, lexicon, lineup, listing, loop, manifest, memorandum, menu, outline, panel, poll, program, prospectus, register, roll, roll call, row, schedule, screed, scroll, series, slate, statistics, syllabus, table, tabulation, tally, thesaurus, ticket, timetable, vocabulary

List (verb) - arrange, bill, book, button down, calendar, catalogue, census, chart, chronicle, classify, detail, docket, enroll, enter, enumerate, file, index, inscribe, insert, inventory, invoice, itemize, keep count, manifest, note, numerate, particularize, peg, place, poll, post, record, register, run down, schedule, set down, specialize, specify, spell out, tab, tabulate, tally, tick off, write down

List #5 - My Favourite U2 Songs

Notice how I highlighted that so you could skip past all that other nonsense. If you've been privy to my past lists, you will know that I can't proceed to the actual listing part before spouting off all sorts of relevant, or irrelevant as the case may be, background information. Couple things inspired this list. Yesterday's post about Fontwerks, I mentioned that I love Beautiful Day by U2. Last night I was out driving to Starbucks at 9:30 pm, we were out of coffee and there was no way I was going to suffer through another morning of the "Pride of Arabia" brand beans which have served as our backup. Notice we never run out of those, because the coffee they make is so disgusting that it forces you to remedy the situation as quickly as possible. Anyway, when driving listening to the radio (I'm a radio listener in the car) U2's "One came on. The station I listen to always has U2 in the rotation, but it's pretty much reaching a frenzied pitch seeing as U2 will be in town (Ottawa being town) in November. Sadly, so sadly, I am not going. Should have been more organized on that one, have never seen them in concert.

Some background on that. U2 is a pretty big score for Ottawa (although we've seen more than our fair share of cool concerts here this fall - well not me personally), Green Day, The Stones, Pearl Jam and more. But U2 has never played here and we weren't on the original schedule. But there's this guy, well a pretty important guy, Paul Martin, our Prime Minister, lives here in Ottawa, the capital. Ya I'm a Liberal (well probably even further left leaning than that, but I digress), I like him for the most part, although he's not exactly the coolest guy in the universe, kind of your typical sixty-ish year old. But guess who convinced Bono to play Ottawa, yes it was Prime Minister Martin himself. Because he and Bono are friends, apparently having done extensive work together in causes/talks aimed at eliminating global poverty/decreasing third world debt, in the nineties while Martin was Canada's finance minister. I think Martin kind of revels in the friendship, definitely ups the cool quotient, but it's not one without its turmoil. Bono's insistence that Canada increase its commitment of foreign aid to .7% GDP by 2015 (a stance which I firmly believe in), has caused some recent divisiveness. You can bet that Bono played the friendship card at the G-8 this summer, and Paul Martin stepped up, along with other world leaders. But we have a ways to go. Apparently the men reconciled over a pint.

I'm not a mad U2 fan (although considering the 86 previous paragraphs I've written you may be wondering), but they are a perennial favourite. I believe that U2 will be known as the best band of my generation. There are few others who have displayed the longevity, the talent, the innovation, the wide appeal. And I admire them (well Bono in particular), perhaps more for his international social activism. He is a celebrity who does more than talk. I won't be surprised if he eventually wins the Nobel Peace Price. Brilliant man, check out this site which expounds on the meaning of U2 lyrics. The music is great (and the musicians), and it spans well back into the days when I bought cassette tapes to play on my tape recorder, then ghetto blaster. And today they can definitely still rock as evidenced by their recent album which is certainly among the best. But here is no particular order are my favourite U2 songs. LIke I said I'm no connoisseur, don't expect any obscure picks from me. ;)

#1 - One

#2 - Beautiful Day - few songs fill me with hope as this one does.

#3 - New Year's Day - had to go with something older

#4 - Vertigo - and something new, because they can definitely still rock

#5 - Rattle And Hum - I'm pretty much going to have to go with the whole album here, because I can't pick a fav. I don't even think that it's their best album. But it's the one I listened to the most, probably because I was in Grade 10 (a lot of music was listened to back in the day). Desire, Pride (In the Name of Love), Still Haven't Found. I think it was a bit slammed back then, but I like me a live album. I think right at the beginning of the album, if I remember correctly, Bono starts off Helter Skelter with "Charles Manson stole this song from the Beatles, we're stealing it back"...I LOVE THAT. And here's a little something for my Dad, who I know reads my blog (hoping he made it this far). I think I forced him to listen to this album, and I believe he liked it. He always used to imitate Bono and say "Edge...play the blues". My Dad is cool.

#6 - The Sweetest Thing - My lists are generally going to be five only. But there is an exception to every rule. See the layout above (for Autumn Leaves), love that song maybe my very favourite. And love that little baby, my sweet Thomas.

If you've made it this far, I'm impressed. Wishing I had more room on the list (I can tell you that "Grace" would be #7), and there are more very worthy songs. I would love it if you would let me know your favourite U2 song (or songs). I wonder if there is a consensus. Now I'm off to supervise some boys and hopefully sneak in a little bit of work if someone deems that they may need a nap today.

 

Made In Canada

I was (made in Canada) that is, but I'm not talking about myself for once. Fontwerks, the super cool company owned by my friend Kah-Mei. She has inspired me with her amazing vision to create a successful business with gorgeous products. Started with rubber stamps, now paper, and rub-ons (be still my beating heart). Absolutely cannot wait to see with what she comes up with next. She asked me to participate in a collaborative effort - Friends of Fontwerks, for the Memory Trends show in Las Vegas. My little 6x6 pager made the trip with Kah-mei. Twenty-six of us were each assigned one letter of the alphabet. You can see a picture of the entire alphabet from MT on Kah-Mei's Blog. Super cool artists, love them all.

Fun to share a page, because I don't seem to have much to share nowadays. But I've been working hard on various projects in any case (you will see soon). But this one is a 6x6, which I've only done once before. I was a little bit room impaired, considering I like the larger canvas. As you can see I was assigned the letter "B". I went with the U2 lyrics for Beautiful Day - just adore that song. I did my favourite trick (or perhaps I should say - obsession) - transparent something or other. I cut the b right out from the background and placed a clear transparency behind. The white part is just the image from my scanner, the b is there in all its clear glory. I then used the Fontwerks dot rub-ons on top of the transparency to fill the centre of the letter. Notice the cool line rub-ons around the edges. Those things have officially broken into my all-time top five favourite SB products.  They truly are the epitome of cool. And those white letters, I need more.

So yay for rub-ons and rubber stamps and paper and SBing friends and things made in Canada and little pieces of art and photos and colour, and this amazing hobby. And especially for women who believe, who dream, who risk, who inspire us, like Kah-Mei. Thank you my friend. :)

It's Friday I'm In Love

Some cool links to enjoy over the weekend. Love me some fun stuff for inspiration.

Orla Kiely - Awesome Irish designer (they always refer to her in the British Chick Lit). Her clothes, bags, so very cool, awesome colour combinations. I've never seen it for sale over here. But the website too, so fun, love the interactivity. Click on "I want a surprise". Will give you a smile. Guaranteed.

Typographic Illustration - this is amazing. Take a look and a listen.They describe it as classic typefaces animated to classic songs. Love all of them, especially the Beatles and Dylan. Makes me remember how I so loved Nirvana, still do in fact. And I'm surprisingly drawn to the Notorious B.I.G. song. Sad that so many brilliant artists die tragically and young. Super cool site. Hoping they add more.

Colour Lovers - their slogan is loving colour since 1981. How fun. I love colour too, even if it does challenge me on most days. Awesome palettes here, just sharing and discussion about colour. Super inspiration.

Area Home - Beautiful bedding here. Today is super chilly here in Ottawa. For the first time this year I sent WIlliam off to school in a hat and mitts. When it's cold, I just want to curl up under some blankets. Preferrably in bed.

That's all for now. Have a Fab Friday!!!

Do You Like Cauliflower?

Edit to Add: April gave this a try according to the recipe and found it very salty. I never measure salt (and rarely follow a recipe exactly), so it may be a little (or a lot on the salty side. Maybe half that amount. I use kosher or sea salt which seems to be more mild.

Well you will now. Although I enjoy raw cauliflower at the best of times, I was never a huge fan of it cooked. Unless of course it was slathered with cheese sauce. Well that makes anything taste good. But one Saturday morning quite a while back now, I was watching the CBS Saturday Morning Early Show. I rarely watch any morning TV, but for some reason I kind of got hooked on this one (only on Saturdays) because I love the Chef On A Shoestring segment. Not that I even worry about economizing when I cook, it's the whole challenge part that interests me. These fab chefs, push themselves to create yummy food on a budget. Very cool.

Anyway, ages ago there was an segment with Bob Blumer from the Food Network's Surreal Gourmet. He's kind of an odd one, I've only seen his show once. Anyway, on the Early Show he did a couple fun recipes. One caught my eye - Cauliflower Popcorn. Because the hosts were like shocked that anyone could make cauliflower taste so good, and Bob was throwing around the term - caramelized. Anytime the natural sugars in vegetables are released, think delicious - eg. caramelized onions, my favourite.

So I tried the recipe myself, better than I imagined. Delicious in fact. And fairly healthy, I only use about half the oil in the recipe. The cauliflower does indeed caramelize, turns a nice golden brown in parts, and is complimented perfectly by the salty, crunchy bits.  I will confess to eating an entire cauliflower myself in one sitting. An entire cauliflower!!! To my defense, it shrinks down a lot (you cut it up btw). Anyone I have ever served this too, has also raved about it. I have several caulifower converts. Even Thomas loves it, although he thinks it's chicken. Seriously I promise you, unless you are an avid vegetable hater, you will find this delish. Perfect for fall. Here's a link to the website with the recipe: Cauliflower. And I'll post it below as well for your cooking pleasure. Warning I generally don't cook it for the entire hour. Usually only about 45-50 minutes. Just watch it, you don't want to let it burn.

Cauliflower popcorn

1 head of cauliflower
4 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon of salt (or, for a salt-free alternative, Mrs. Dash table blend)

Preheat oven to 425 º F. Cut out and discard cauliflower core and thick stems. Trim remaining cauliflower into florets the size of golf balls. In a large bowl, add cauliflower, olive oil, and salt. Toss thoroughly. Spread cauliflower on a baking sheet (lined with parchment paper, if available for easy cleanup). Roast for 1 hour, or until much of each floret has become golden brown. (that's the caramelization process converting the dormant natural sugars into sweetness. The browner the florets, the sweeter they will taste.) Turn 3 or 4 times during roasting. Serve immediately.

A Question Of Belief

 I've been working terribly hard this last little while, not leaving me time for much anything else. But I wanted to pop in and say hi and share a fabulous new find. Well it wasn't new (new to me I guess) published in 2000, and it wasn't even technically for me. A board book, for my little boys (nothing better than a board book :) ). Called "A Question Of Belief", see at Amazon (although I think that one is not the board book version). It is so lovely though, and guess who it's by - David Butler and Amy Butler of Art Of The Midwest. Yes, same Amy Butler of fabric design fame. Check out her husband's website for some cool design and illustration as well. I scanned a few pages in to share.

A collection of quotes (some of my favourites), beautifully illustrated, on the concept of Belief. From a variety of great thinkers, different relgions, different cultures. With a focus on our commonalities as human beings. What draws us together is far more important than that which divides us. And that is truly my guiding principle in my personal journey, exploring my individual belief system.

A few more inspiring quotes from the book:

"What we think, we become." - Buddha

"The only Zen you find on the tops of mountains is the Zen you bring up there." = Robert M. Pirsig

"Faith is the daring of the soul to go farther than it can see" - William Newton Clark

"The best way to know God is to love many things." - Vincent Van Gogh

"To have any color prejudice is to discriminate against God, who is sitting in the hearts of all the red, white, yellow, olive and black peoples of the world." - Paramanhamsa Yogananda

Baby You Can Drive My Car - List #4

Happy Thanksgiving to all my Canadian friends and family. Just enjoying a long weekend here. Reflecting on my gratitudes.

But back to my lists.

List #4 - Cars I have loved (or not), more like cars I have driven

Well this won't exactly be comprehensive, as this does not encompass every single solitary car I've driven. But specifically the ones I've owned (or the ones I appropriated from my parents). Truth be told, I'm fairly utilitarian when it comes to cars. I view them as a means from point A to B, preferably in some semblance of a safe manner. I do kind of have a thing for the European styling, but it seems that my practical side always wins out.

1. Blue Toyota Truck (probably early '80s or even later '70s, can't remember, that's how old it was) - this was the illustrious vehicle in which I learned to drive. Lovingly known to all my friends the the "blue truck". You know, those very small ones, like the Taliban drove in Afghanistan. But I drove mine for good, not evil  It was my Dad's, it was a standard. Thankful that my parents had the foresight to teach me to drive on a standard. Because now, I can. And you never know when you are going to have to drive a manual (read: maybe I will be on the Amazing Race sometime - haha). But seriously, good skill to have. Anyway, this truck was driven until the very end. When it was on it's dying breaths it was driven directly to the garbage dump to live out it's final days.

2. 1986 - White Volvo Station Wagon - This was the car I was not allowed to drive until I had actually mastered the functioning of the clutch. My parents babied this vehicle, in it's later years it was even named the apropos, Sven (given its Swedish heritage and all). Super boxy, thought it was uncool when I was 13, today yes I have changed my tune. If we didn't need something bigger, a Volvo station wagon would be my next car. They had it for years and years. And just a few years back they replaced it with a new Volvo sedan.

3. 1987 - Grey Volkswagen Jetta - my Dad got it used in like 1990/1991 (to replace the blue truck). I thought it was fairly cool, I appropriated it for the most part. They finally broke down and gave it to me outright just a few years later. The poor car had to move from the warm climes of the west coast to endure the bitter cold winters on the Canadian prairies. It was never the same, it hated the cold. Made the most unwelcoming noises for a good four months of the year. If anyone has ever owned one of these, you well know that they have the worse door/door handle issues. That thing froze shut/broke/screwed up more times than I can count. As we learned from the salvage yard - all too common with these cards. The curious thing was that these cars seem to have somewhat of a cult following for some odd reason, particularly the two doors. At the import auto shop some guy offered me $6000 for it, when it all reality it was worth less than $1000. Weird. But I didn't part with it at the time. In fact I didn't part with it until 2004, although my poor husband actually was relegated to driving it for it's last tempestuous years. Believe it or not, it still had a surprising amount of life left when we donated it to my husband's brother before we moved out east. He crashed it two weeks later. He was fine, the car, not so much.

4. 2002 - Black Honda Accord - The first new car I ever bought (or we collectively bought). When you get so exasperated getting a car seat and/or infant into the backseat of a two door, you finally break down and buy a new one. Perhaps the most utilitarian vehicle ever, it has done a fine job for the past few years. It's the car I drive today. The car of fond memories. The car that brought Thomas home from the hospital, the car that drove William to his first day of preschool. I love to look at my boys in the back, buckled carefully into their car seats, chattering back and forth. We listen to the music loud, we talk about what we see. It's their car and mine. It sees lots of use these days transporting them to and from their activities.

5. 2000 Acura (something or other), kind of goldish - my husband's car. He got it used, over a year ago. Truth be told I've only driven it a handful of times. To make sure that I can still drive a standard. It's sporty, small. He likes it, and it's good on gas (relatively).

So there's the rundown. Likely we will be replacing my car next year. Particularly if we decide to have another baby. We will need the room.  Sigh, against all that is good in the world, we will have to resort to a minivan. I'm thinking a Honda Odyssey, not exactly the most stylish thing in the world. I'm hoping they come up with a hybrid soon. Then I will be inspired.