I've neglected you over the last week or so, but today I went out to get my new book on baking bread, and do you believe it, forgot to get it. Well I have an excuse I was pleasantly distracted, by the Antique fair. You know me, I just need to look. I picked up this little ashtray. It occurred to me how far we have come. You just don't see ashtrays for sale any more, I was really looking for egg cups. I don't have any one smoking in my house but I thought this would look really attractive in a shadow box on the wall with some black and white pieces, that Nancy, and Susan Williamson had done, and one of my son's pieces. I've painted the room red, so the black and white looks MARVELOUS. Beyond that I'd have loved a few more pieces but held back knowing my house is full. I guess I'll be buying Bunnykins egg cups for the four of us. And I'll have to get my book another day.
I few weeks ago one of the blogs I read had a whole post on one of your husband's baking bread. I can't remember which one, if it's you please comment. I suddenly have a craving for home baked bread, and a gift certificate for a book. Thanks a bunch. Found it. on Cottage Days... see side bar for full title. I'm off to the bookstore. O.k. the book is called Artisan Bread in Five Minutes.
I don't know if any of you are old enough to remember this commercial, it had something to do with some kind of quick lunches. I always thought that was a great way describe feelings about some major disappointment. I'm not disappointed but I just feel like I have the worst case of lunch bag let down, probably this very long winter. I got up this morning and had all kinds of plans to clean my house. Monday is downstairs day, and laundry. It's always laundry day. I got as far as the chair my book was sitting on, and thought "oh I'll just read till my water boils," well I finished the book and three kettles of boiling water later. I haven't done that in a great many years. I even rushed my niece off the phone, because I wanted to see what happened, in the book that is, she called at a crucial part. It's been a long time since a book captured my attention for that long. Usually I just read a bit and fall asleep. I read through the Oscars, and well into the night. Well I guess I didn't get much sleep, no wonder the lunch bag let down. Anyway well into the day, as I was making supper, I did a very little bit of house cleaning. I still have a bunch of stuff sitting there needing refinishing or painting or something, I know if I put things away "they will be out of sight out of mind" so here they sit. I have old sewing machine table I'd really like to use it as a cutting system spot, with my score -it board and all my blades and stuff,it has a drawer and everything for my blades(the cat is always running off with my blades) but it has a gross arborite top which has large holes in it. I'd just like to put a huge cutting mat on top, or cork. I've checked out cork by the foot, and all the instructions say use a cork suitable glue, what the H_ _ L is that? Why not just tell me what it is. Anyway, when I scrubbed up the legs and saw that lovely S in an oval and Singer brace it kinda said to me just leave it here, and you'll think of something fabulous to do with it. Nothing yet! Got any ideas? I'm not even watching Antiques Road Show tonight, I'm afraid they'll have someone come in with a sewing machine table that has been altered and give them bad news.
I had to try this, even though my camera is not great, I think I did o.k. Brenda's Photo challenge this month is signs of Spring. Well here in Ontario, Canada, we have very little signs of spring. We've just been pelted with yet another snow storm. But I managed to get my frog again. He hibernates I guess and comes out as soon as the water in the pond melts enough. And that's it I could not find ANYTHING ELSE.
I had to laugh this morning when I looked at ...just Annette's... blog she said blah blah blah, I was thinking yada yada yada. Yes we indeed went to dinner and dancing on Valentine's Day. Everyone in the room was in LOVE, except for maybe a couple of priests. There were a couple of paper hearts by our place setting, the minute the MC started to explain what to do with these hearts, panic set in. My poor husband, he had to write something endearing about me. I'd like to say he couldn't decide I have so many endearing qualities, but no such luck, he just sucks at writing things down. Needless to say we were laughing so hard that we couldn't look into each others eyes and express these feelings. I'm sure our companions around the table thought we had lost our marbles. Who knew there was going to be a pop quiz. Any way dinner was good, drinks were tasty, and the music was quite enjoyable. We danced for awhile, and then by 11:30p.m. we were done, and just as Annette and her hubby we came home put our p.j.s on and watched Saturday Night Live.
The first year we were married I got all excited about Valentine's Day. My husband was working afternoons so he would be coming home at 11p.m. and as I was in this mode that dinner was served whenever he came home. I got all scoobied up and was waiting with candle light dinner for two and champagne. (The centre piece was one of those bottles of wine, covered in raffia and wax drips all over). Well I waited in my red negligee and long flowing hair and waited and waited till I couldn't stay awake anymore. And no he wasn't out solving some earth-shattering crime, he went out for drinks with his friends. The wait stopped there. Now I take action. This year for Valentine's Day, I bought myself a little something, bought tickets to a dinner dance with people we don't know. We'll see how that turns out. But 29 years of nothing has to change.
O.k. yesterday's post resulted in at least two new suggestions. I had had yellow label wine before and while it's o.k., I'm ready for new adventures. The Raging Bull I tested this week gives me hot flashes, so that's not so good. I was eating dinner in my undergarments and at this weight that's not so good. But I had one comment that suggested any kind of "Pintal" so being the blonde I am (naturally) I wrote all these suggestions down and I was off to the liquor store, today.* and then I continued my house work, as Thursdays are designated laundry and cleaning days. As I was cleaning up the water after my washing machine began to leak, (my mind automatically goes to something more pleasant in these cases, and a glass of wine sounded pretty good, but it was only 9 a.m.)I thought "Pintal" of course I had put a french accent on this, and thought NO Peental. Pintal is the correct spelling but the sound is PEENtal. I thought it was one of my siblings being a smart ass. You see Steve Pintal was a man who my mother met when she was in the Santa Rosa Camp for Refugees. During the second world war my parent were separated by war for seven years, my mother was 22 when she arrived in Mexico. My father was off fighting in places like Monte Casino. Well many Canadian and American men (single or not) would come to the camp and want a bride. Pintal was one of them, as he married another woman in the camp, they got to be friends and he managed to assist my parents in coming to the Hamilton, Ontario area after the war. He was a man of many talents it seems. He made wine. Horrible wine. And sold it. Yes bootleg booze. You had to strain the fruit flies out as you poured into your glass. So my funny sibling thought that might be a nice bottle to choose. I think not my sweet.
* for readers outside of Ontario, our liquor is sold by the Ontario Liquor License Board. These are government owned liquor stores. They make a bundle in taxes on us winos. In Pintal's days the hours were very limited so bootlegers made great profits by selling illegally at their doorstep. Big jail terms if you got caught, sadly Pintal went out of this world wealthy on the bucks he made on his wine.
I'd like to buy a special bottle of wine for a secret Valentine, and I'm totally at a loss. I went to the liquor store and just stood there. Haven't had that task for a great many years. I sent my husband but he came home with Raging Bull, a little red and more than a little dry. I remember buying a nice bottle of rose, but can't remember the name of it. What a cheap date eh! Any suggestions? I know I should look in the booze book, but they always seems so complex. HELP!
I feel like a newby when it comes to wine, I know what I like, but is it o.k. for a gift? I'd think maybe a winery tour is in order here. Any suggestions?
I had to edit this post, Remember when we use to buy those bottles of wine with the rafia around it so you could then melt candles all over it. I don't think the wine was particularly good, but it was the "thing" to do.
I don't have a daughter, but I wish I did. I have had the pleasure of taking part in the planning of weddings over the last few years,my nieces, and my friends. Today was such a day. I absolutely love the planning process, the flowers, the invitations, the food, the music everything. Let's hope the bride loves all of it.
Let me tell you about Karolina's. Karolina's is a little hole in the wall in mid-town Hamilton, on of all streets, Barton. If you didn't know it was there you would keep on driving with your windows rolled up, for fear of the "wrong part of town". As I grew up in Hamilton, that part of town does not intimidate me. And Karolina's is worth the trip. The proprietor of Karolina's is Alice. Alice and her ladies of the kitchen are wicked cooks. At least one of them stands there all day long and makes pierogi. There is always at least three choices of soups, all homemade, and the potatoe pancakes mmmmmmmmmmmmmm! is all I can say. Now let me say this, I'm a pretty good cook, but Karolina's is a treat for me. Needless to say Janice and I had a great lunch, no Haute Cuisine, No Chef Ramsey, Just a nice glass of wine, some potatoe soup, pierogi, cabbage rolls, and potatoe pancakes. Some little man bakes for Karolina's so we ended up with a apple square as well. Karolina's is not elegant, it's not trendy, it's not nouveau. It's clean, and has great food. While we were in there Alice had a visitor from a representative of the mayor's office, asking if she would agree to be put on the brouchure for tourists. We all had a laugh about that, there is nothing on Barton St. worth visiting other than the deli two doors over, and Karolina's. So I think I must have gained what little weight I lost all in one lunch, Oh well I guess I'll walk an extra 40 min. tomorrow.
I was right and you were wrong and I'm going to sing the I was right song. It seems like an eternity ago but: my son Sasha, yes he's the good one, you don't hear about him too often, because he doesn't ruffle my feathers, "or fizz me up" as they use to say when I would lose it, had some difficulties in learning. I use the term difficulties loosely, because I believe everyone is teachable, we all just learn in different ways. Anyway, by the time he was in grade three his teachers were sure he should be in a special school because he just was not fitting in to their mold, he had difficulty reading out loud, he had difficulty writing a paragraph etc. I was under the impression that that was why he was going to school. Silly me. Well I dug in my heals and said no he is going to go to a regular school, with regular kids, and I will help him. He's a worker. Well I know that just didn't make their day. I wish I could send this to the teacher that told me he would never be able to read or write, that he will be lucky to be functionally literate.
I thank the Lord for wonderful friends who were nosy, they suggested I talk to a Doctor of child development. I arrived at Dr. Kozner's office all shaky and expecting her to tell me to just do as the teachers had said. To my delight she said: "You know your child better than they, all you have to do is be honest with yourself, and you'll make the right decision, and I'll help you." Dr. Kozner, carried a "big stick" if I might phrase it that way. None of her patients or their parents were ever intimidated by "school officials". She stood all of 5 feet tall, weighed no more than 100pounds, couldn't yell if her life depended upon it, and yet when she walked into the IPRC* I knew everything would be O.K. while we were never angry, or loud, she taught me how to approach these matters. I can only say that anything that Sasha gained by my "approach" the other students benefited as well. So by the time we had reached grade eight, which here in Canada you are expected to make decisions about your career, the obvious thing for teachers was to recommend that Sasha go into the "trades". Here we go again, I thought. This is a young man with gross motor disfunction, "O'h sure give him and electric drill and let's seem how many fingers he comes home with." Again, no need for an advocate, I just said NO. Sasha needs to do what he wants to with his life, we cannot make that decision for him. We can advise him but... Well my son wants to write. I'm proud to say he has been published more than once. And you be the judge is this the article of a writer who will never be more than functionally literate. Here is a CD review he recently published, (and I thought he was just plugged into that IPod to avoid me).
* IPRC Identification, Placement and Review Committee, a group of "school officials" that don't necessarily know the student but decide his future, and how little they have to work to make that student a success.
TV on the Radio – Dear Science
TV on the Radio’s fourth album, Dear Science, a followup to the wonderfully haunting Return to Cookie Mountain, is a musical experiment of sorts. Each song has an independent logic that forms and builds it while still retaining the band’s atmospheric, moody and downright funky jazz formula. It’s their clearest album. Brass instruments command and echo throughout in the right places as the static walls of sound, a trademark of their early records, begin to erode. The band builds on this more authentic and nostalgic style of composition in the vein of Berlin- era Bowie and Prince.
TV on the Radio is Victor Frankenstein and this album is their monster. It simultaneously retains both beauty and ugliness in the interaction of lyrics and music while resurrecting nearly dead musical styles such as jazz and funk. The album is superbly stitched together, to the point where every song feels like it’s in the right place on the track list. There’s a good balance of sad, happy and haunting songs, and no song feels out of place. It’s perfect symmetry.I anticipate that although the album will do modestly on the charts, it will be a legendary template for bands of the future in the same way that Surfer Rosa (or any Pixies record for that matter) was for bands of the ’90s. And, unlike most records released last year, it will have a shelf life beyond 2008.
My friend Janice is celebrating a Birthday today. I won't get to see her until Friday, but it will be as though we just saw each other the other day. It seems it doesn't matter how much time goes by without being together we just click right in like we belong. We've been friends for 40 years. I plan on going to the same retirement home as she, just so we can get up and dance when we have the urge, forget about if you feel a song coming on and just start singing in the grocery store. We'll spend Friday together and have a great day.
A while back someone very bright asked what do women really want? Well the answer undoubtly was SHOES. Well as I get older and continue to walk around the world I'm feeling my feet. A good shoe is just so hard to find. Each week when I'm in downtown Hamilton, I sort of fly through, it's become so unfriendly. Days gone by we would walk on "payday" from James Street to Wentworth and not be able to decide on what pair of shoes we would like that week. The Villager was one of the "in" places to shop. I decided to stay home this morning to do a bit of clear out, part of my mess is the overwhelming amount of stuff I brought from my mother's home. I just couldn't sort through stuff in a hurry, so I packed it all up and brought it home. Today's adventure was all that embroidery ribbon we brought back from Poland some 35 years ago. Yes 35 years ago. My aunt was trying desperately to give us a gift we could not get here in Canada, I guess the thought was, what do you buy someone who has everything, and yes, that's what we were, two ladies who have everything. I'm not sure about all that, but we certainly were thrilled with all that ribbon. We did use a great deal of it in our suits designs, but then we got so busy, I just didn't have the opportunity to embroider. Well now that I'm looking for something to do when I visit with my mom, I thought this would be the ticket. What does this have to do with shoes you ask? Well all this ribbon was in these "Villager" shoe bags. It was quite the thing to keep these plastic bags. So if you for one minute think that all this hupla about bags being in landfills for long periods of time, is not true, forget it" it's true." This bag is as bright and strong as 35years ago when we put those ribbons in it. So while I desperately miss going into a shoe store and having a virtual smorgasbord of shoes to choose from, it reinforces the fact that we are polluting our planet. So take one of those recycling bags with you the next time you shop. Yesterday I did that and the salesclerks were snickering when I handed them back their plastic bag. Imagine a old broad like me being environmentally friendly, I didn't tell them I was walking another 3km. to my destination they just would not appreciate it.
Now about all that ribbon, I guess I'll have to sit and watch a soap opera or two and sort. One of my favourite pass times. It's pretty bad when you hustle all morning to find something to do while you sit. I never give myself permission to just sit and watch, I'm usually doing something. Usually it's laundry. But today it will be laundry, and sorting ribbon, and watching, only one hour. Really...
I got this as an email, and perhaps you've read it, but I've been thinking of hauling out my knitting needles just so I can make it through a TV show and all the channel changes without stomping out angry. Take last Saturday night not much on but we have a full cabinet of movies, well, I don't want to watch blood and guts, so off I stomped to wash floors. Imagine being so ticked you need the catharsis of a wet cloth and a bucket of water. Well after all that I went to sleep. My sister and I are starting a scraping challenge so I'm setting up a room for myself. Watch for the score keeping of our challenge in upcoming posts. In the mean time I need to have a laugh and a little prayer, and I'm finding myself a shoebox.
Shoe Box
A man and woman had been married for more than 60 years.
They had shared everything. They had talked about everything.
They had kept no secrets from each other except that the little
old woman had a shoe box in the top of her closet that she had
cautioned her husband never to open or ask her about.
For all of these years, he had never thought about the box, but
one day the little old woman got very sick and the doctor said
She would not recover.
In trying to sort out their affairs, the little old man took
down the shoe box and took it to his wife's bedside.
She agreed that it was time that he should know what was
in the box. When he opened it, he found two crocheted dolls
and a stack of money totaling $95,000.
He asked her about the contents. 'When we were to be married,'
she said, 'my grandmother told me the secret of a happy marriage
was to never argue. She told me that if I ever got angry with you,
I should just keep quiet and crochet a doll.'
The little old man was so moved; he had to fight back tears. Only two
precious dolls were in the box. She had only been angry with him two
times in all those years of living and loving He almost burst with
happiness.
'Honey,' he said, 'that explains the doll, but what about all of this money?
Where did it come from?'
'Oh,' she said, 'that's the money I made from selling the dolls.'
A Prayer.......
Dear Lord, I pray for Wisdom to understand my man;
Love to forgive him, and Patience for his moods.
Because Lord, if I pray for Strength,
I'll beat him to death, because I don't have time to crochet.
I get a newsletter from Quietfire Design (see side bar for link) on a regular basis. Love it! Today's journal prompt was, What would you say to your younger self? I had to laugh out loud when I got it. Moisturize? Dump that Loser? were only two of the suggestions. What would you say to yourself? Hmmmm. I think many of us would not have used baby oil to sun bathe or fry with when we were younger. We would certainly moisturize. Now about those losers. I always tell my husband I wouldn't marry him again, now. But, I could not have had my kids out of wedlock. I still would love to have my children, only at least one more. Should have started earlier. Would have gone to University, in spite of the cost. Never would have quit my job, even if only part-time. Keep driving after I got my license. Moisturize. Bake till the cows came home when I didn't gain weight so quickly. Learn to swim. Learn to ski. Never give up my sewing room. I would have tried harder to keep in touch with friends from college. Moisturize. Would have bought a bigger home, one with a sunroom, for a studio. There is one on sale on 20hwy. that I always loved. Wrong city. Moisturize. Well can't think of anything else right now...
