Friday, November 30, 2012
Monday, October 22, 2012
I came here today to say that I would be completely overwhelmed by the not too distant future if I allowed myself to think about it. It requires an effort to divert my attention, which is something totally different than denial. You see, my husband and I are expecting in March and there are so many things that I don't know about how we will manage the huge responsibility that comes with that. Employment is perhaps biggest on my mind (I mean, apart from the fact that I will have a new human being to love and care for). I find myself in the situation where I won't qualify for maternity leave since I'm self employed and a bunch of other questions cascade down from that theme. Questions such as how long will I be able to stay home with the baby? Vs. How long do I want to stay home with the baby? From what I can see, the answers don't align. Can we afford daycare? What daycare? Where will we live? What work do I want to do in the next phase of my life? What will be challenging and enjoyable but will allow me to have that elusive work/life balance? You may have noticed I've been stuck on those last two for a bit.
In addition to the questions above, I, along with my siblings, need to deal with the reality of aging parents. One parent suffers from dementia with Lewy Bodies, which is a difficult and upsetting disease to witness, let alone suffer from. The other parent is completely stressed by the day-to-day reality of caring for someone with dementia and is on the verge of breakdown several times a week. Not everyone involved understands the full extent of the situation and some are in denial about how dire it is. Some are not thinking rationally. Much needs to happen in the next few months. Living arrangements need to change, finances need to be figured out, support systems need to be set up, etc. I want to help as much as I can but since I live 2 hours away there is only so much I can do. I know can't do the little things that would help on a daily basis but I am trying to get up to see them more often than I have in the past.
In the end, I need to keep a bit of emotional and mental distance from these big questions in order to minimize stress and be able to get the dishes done. The little belly bean (too cute?) needs me to stay sane and healthy. There is something grounding in the fact that there is no question about what one of my roles will be in the near future, that of mother. In moments of hormonal unbalance I sometimes worry that I'm not up to the task but on the flip side nothing seems more clear cut: I want to do, and will do, the best that I can. I need to trust that I will be able to put the rest of the pieces together because of that.
Friday, June 15, 2012
My dad's relationship to cooking is the antithesis of the kinds of stories found in the Apron Strings community and consequently I have no recipe to share. While my dad is known to have a generous appetite with an extreme bias towards starch, it was mom who did 99.999% of the cooking. He does claim to be able to make a mean spaghetti but we never saw any proof.
I do have one vivid memory of my dad's cooking. On one of the rare occasions that my mom was away, probably at a spiritual retreat or something like that, and there was not a casserole to heat up, my dad was left to his own devices. Usually in these rare cases my sister and I would beg to go to McDonald's and dad would cave. My adult self recoils in horror at the thought. So this one time we were unable to work our charm/pestering on the situation and dad was going to make boiled eggs for dinner. I knew that he liked his yolks runny and I did not so I requested a hard boiled egg. He must have been in a foul mood because he snapped back, "you'll get what you get." It may have something to do with the fact that I had been previously telling him that he was going about it all wrong; being nine or so I knew how to boil an egg. It was not a good scene and the mood was sombre.
When, minutes later, the three of us sat down I was the first to crack open my shell and was shocked when out came a completely raw egg! I think I said something like "it really isn't hard boiled" or I hope I did anyway. My sister and I cracked up (ba doom doom ching!). At least my dad was good-natured enough to see the humour in the situation as well. I don't remember what we ended up eating for dinner that night (my guess is McDonald's) but we still laugh about the time that dad couldn't even boil an egg.
Have a happy father's day this Sunday!
Friday, June 8, 2012
For, like, a decade or so I had the intention of spraying her a glossy bright, uniform white. She had some gold and green accents. I also wanted to get a new lampshade - nothing too curvy or traditional - something streamlined to tone down the so very not modern aesthetic of the thing. Well, I finally painted her last fall and managed to upset a neighbour with the fumes from the paint. I don't know why I mention that; upsetting him is no amazing feat. I hemmed and hawed about whether I wanted to do it white. Maybe neon pink would be awesome or chartreuse. But then how long would that be pleasing? Best to go with classic white. It was ridiculously simple and could have been done more than a WHOLE DECADE earlier.
Since then she has lived shadeless on my desk. You see, I had a shade that I scored for free - a reject from some design show. It was a drum shade and it was sloppily covered in cheap black fabric with satiny hem tape used for a ribbon trim. I removed the fabric and was left with a linty, sticky mess on the styrene so I removed the plastic as well. So now I was left with the two separate rings from the drum shade. I've been trying to source the styrene so I can build the shade again and have only found UK sources thus far. I'm not paying shipping on that. So I gave up.
I also looked for tutorials on how to sew a lined fabric shade but all I came up with were tutorials on how to glue fabric to an existing shade but remember that all I had were two independent rings that could become a shade. I saw a video on how to make a drum shade out of poster board but that seemed like it could be flammable.
|Naked lady lamp in all her tacky glory: the before picture|
Today when I was about to go down the Internet search rabbit hole I got so frustrated with myself; I can figure this out without losing hours to slightly helpful hints online. You can go from one site to the next and think, but is there a better way? and you go around in circles and the next thing you know your day is gone and the million and one projects that you have in mind never get done, am I right? Don't get me wrong, I think it's brilliant that there are all those free tutorial and ideas online but sometimes the Internet comes up short. What happened to tinkering? What happened to attempting to do something, having it fail, and then figuring out a better way from a place of true understanding? And besides, ENOUGH ALREADY! HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE ONE PERSON TO UPDATE A FREAKING LAMP?
So I've just told you this extremely boring story to tell you that I'm going to figure this shit out even though I fear that the result is bound to be monumentally anticlimactic. I'm going to rely on my own wits and ingenuity. I had originally intended to build my shade with some Mylar that I've had kicking around for ages but it's not firm enough. I'm going to see if I can make it work anyway. So take that, Internet.
While I'm updating my tacky lamp have a lovely weekend, all you lovelies out there.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
I had a bunch of rhubarb I'd recently picked at my in-laws' cottage and decided to see what others had to say about it so I picked up the Beard. Though Beard "would not describe it as a champion among spring fruit" he does offer up a trio of recipes. I love old cookbooks more for the writer's voice than the recipes but I will consult the recipes usually as a starting point. Inspired by Mr. Beard's recipe for rhubarb fool, I set to work.
I cut up the 11/2 lbs of rhubarb into 2-inch lengths, combined with 1 cup of sugar and 1/4 cup of water in a saucepan, covered, and simmered until tender as per the recipe. I wanted to play around a bit though so I took about a one inch piece of ginger, peeled and cut into rounds, and included that in the saucepan. The sugar was vanilla sugar and I tossed the nearly exhausted vanilla beans in the pot too since that couldn't hurt (and it didn't). Once the rhubarb was a stringy sauce like my mom use to make I let it cool. From there I strained off some of the pretty pink syrupy liquid into a 250ml jar and then passed the rest of the rhubarb through a food mill and filled a 500ml jar with the sauce. The food mill was part of Beard's recipe. It's not a complicated idea - just hadn't thought to do it myself before.
The purée is a really lovely sauce and the ginger and rhubarb play well together. The vanilla gives it all a rounder flavour. I've been using it judiciously spooned into granola and yogurt in the morning and over vanilla ice cream in the evening. Perhaps I should try it with whipped cream and actually make a fool. The syrup I've mixed with water and added ice for a late afternoon treat. So pretty in pink. It's hard to use the word pink and not say pretty too. I've also mixed it with rum and soda with the lime and mint remains of an earlier mojito and that was equally good. I long for a rhubarb patch to call my own.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Even though I was doing my cleanse diet and I believe one should make food that all people can partake in at a meal I decided to make homemade mac and cheese. I mean, how can one go wrong with all those carbs doused in a cheesy sauce, right? Wrong. My feelings of self-worth plummeted, I jest - sort of, as one plate of food remained virtually untouched. The reason: it was too cheesy! At least there was one ravenous eater who had second helpings. There is a strange rule that the more you try to ensure that everyone loves what you prepare the more chances that you will make mistakes you wouldn't normally make. When I put the mac and cheese under the broiler to brown the top I moved on to frying sprouted tofu for myself and the next thing I knew the smoke alarm was going off and the parmesan-bread crumb topping was black. I picked it off and tasted to see that all was still fine. It was but I have to say that it wasn't the best mac and cheese I'd ever made - I think it has something to do with not tasting it enough because of the cleanse diet. It needed more dijon and salt. So where am I at now? Right, strike two.
I knew it was time to bring in a pinch hitter: sugar. Oh yeah, and peanut butter and his good friend milk chocolate. I decided to make the Salted Peanut Butter Cookies from Orangette's blog. I'd made them before and had confidence in the recipe. I did the trick where you scoop out the cookie dough onto a parchment-lined baking sheet and stuck them in the freezer so that I had 30+ cookies ready to bake into small batches over the next few weeks. It's a practice in restraint. I baked up the first batch the morning of our guests' last day and offered them at lunch. My confidence in the cookie wavered as I thought of the salt. What if they think it's too salty, too different? Will the youngest think it's weird? I let them know that it is supposed to be a bit salty on purpose and crossed my fingers. My S-I-L, a knowing mother, let my niece try a bite of her cookie to see if she liked it before she got her own. My niece said, "I like it. I don't think it's salty." Then as we were loading up their car I handed over a cookbook for them to borrow and my niece looked up at me and asked, "Is the cookie recipe in there?" Her shoulders and her mouth drooped in the most dramatic way when I said no. Home Run.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Today is a gorgeous day in Toronto and is supposed to reach a high of 14C, which is the same temperature that Firenze is supposed to reach. I know this because I keep a few foreign city profiles on my iphone weather app just because they are places I wish I could just be •snap• like that. And boy oh boy do I have itchy feet right now.
But I’m most definitely still here so I’ve been researching what kind of jobs are available and reading up on career reinvention because I feel a different kind of energy (one that doesn’t come from caffeine or sugar since they are verboten for a few more weeks) than I have been feeling. I quit my last job-job in 2010 and have been doing some freelance work that I do from home, which technically is a job but one that has always felt like a temporary one. The thing is, until recently, and lack of work might have something to do with it, I’ve had this urge to do something more.
So I’m researching jobs and seeing what’s out there and since I have itchy feet I can’t resist looking up international opportunities. I’ve learned that I’m not too old to get work/travel visas to at least a couple of countries. I’ve come across house sitting websites (here’s one) and seen postings for long term engagements at houses in the remote hills of an Italian village and others in the south of France. The idea of living rent free, especially in a foreign villa, is very appealing to one who has a tight cash flow and is trying to pay off debt. It makes me happy to just know that these opportunities are out there. It gets the creative juices flowing in a think about alternative routes kind of way – even if I don’t leave Canadian soil for a while.
While I haven’t gone anywhere new and done anything different I am in a new place, a very different place than I was a year ago. I’m feeling, I almost dare not say it, an optimism; the slim edge of confidence has wedged itself into my mind. I know I’ve still got a long way to go but when it comes to personal growth I hope that I never stop traveling.
Tisane for pondering career reinvention and international travel
One doesn't need caffeinated drinks to have a nice hot cuppa to accompany all this pondering and searching. I’ve started quite the collection of herbs, roots, and flowers to keep the taste buds tantalized and the caffeine cravings at bay. Recently I made a particularly tasty one and I wanted to share.
Dried ginger root
Let steep longer than you would a normal tea (8-10 mins) to give the roots more time to infuse the water. Eyeball it, play around with the proportions to your liking, and, most of all, enjoy!