Today's Challenge

I have: 9 hours, 3 kids with runny noses (1 that I'm going to ship out to Ramona's house), 2 dvd players (okay make that 1 dvd player-Gradie literally just double stuffed a dvd in the livingroom model), 400 family movies, 10 loads of laundry and 3 floors of solid untidyness and I have a goal. I am going to try to make this coin purse. I'm going to a birthday party tonight and so, I also need to squeeze in 2 meals (for children), the construction of a cheese ball, a shower, a blow dry, make up app., outfit choosing and wrap present. Go.

Cat Pee and the Couch

I love this couch. I love the colour, the design, the scale, the fabric, the buttons, the legs. I love everything about it. I think I love the people that have this couch, I love their floor, their lamp. I want to be them and live happily in the room where this couch is. The couch that is in our livingroom now is giant and very dark green and is covered in many spots which could make for a very entertaining game of Name that Stain. I took a course at the workroom recently to learn to make expert "box cushions". The course was excellent, the instructor-knowledgeable and lively, the participants were talented and enthusiastic sewers. It was an overall great experience. We needed to bring the cushion (foam, feather etc.) that we wanted to cover and the fabric that we wanted to use. Some time in the last 2 years I thought that this monstrosity of a couch was a good candidate for a makeover and bought 10 yards of white canvas. The morning of the class, I grabbed the cushion and the canvas. The cushion, it turns out, is badly mis-shapen and the canvas has a good bit of cat pee on it.Sidenote: most fabric surfaces in our house currently, recently or in the future have circles of cat pee on them. He sprays it to hit about twelve inches off the ground and thus things like laundry baskets and bed skirts are prime targets. As apparently are the many yards of fabric in my sewing room. As the class gets underway and everyone is cutting frantically I carelessly cut the ample fabric to include the yellow stains. I've since washed this cushion cover and restuffed the insides and have made peace with the outcome. The piping is well installed, the zipper looks pretty expert with it's posh little pocket (if I do say so myself!) and the canvas is more lovely than it was before it was given this new life. All of this goodness and all I can think about is my new life with the blue velvet button-back couch and all of the fun times we're going to have together. I can picture the cat pee on it now.

Bitch or not?

I got called a bitch yesterday. It was after I'd had a pretty good day. It was the end of the day and I was getting ready to pack it in and head home. The details about why don't matter so much and I read on a blog today that you shouldn't really blog about things to do with work because you could get fired. So let's just say that someone called me a bitch and it was work-related. The person didn't really call me a bitch to my face but rather a second after he/she was out of view. I had a witness and there was no questioning what was said or to whom he/she was referring. Now it's January and we're in a recession and it's friggin' cold outside and I don't know anyone that's having a great time right now. I know people who have lost someone close, people having dental surgery, people that are getting over strep throat, people that have just been laid off and people who are seeing the boots that they paid full price for in November, be reduced to ridiculously low prices. Yes, it's a tough time of year and most of us probably feel like calling someone something equally bad (or worse). But the problem with being called a bitch is that you stop and ask yourself if you actually are. The voice that speaks for the part of yourself that thinks you're a terrible person takes over and convinces you that this opinion, albeit rendered in a cowardly way, has some merit. To make matters worse, I feel bitchy right now. With no warm vacation on the horizon and several more weeks of winter ahead and having recently released the cleaning lady for financially responsible reasons. I do in fact, feel bitchy. The question is: What to do about it? The usual remedies don't seem to be working. I got my roots coloured, watched Larry King, puttered with a crossword from two Saturdays ago and still nothing. I'm betting on a good nights sleep and fingers crossed, no one will call me anything true tomorrow.

The Ice Rink and Simpler Things

We have an ice rink in our backyard right now. A team of people have worked tirelesslly for almost a month now, realizing the vision.At a time when technology and change are the only contstants, the rink is making me feel like a proud Canadian pioneer. Christmas eve we laid the tarp, nailed in the border and started the flooding. Since the installation, I've learned a lot about ice rinks from the multitude of people in my world that have an opinion on best techniques.There are a multitude of sites dedicated to this very art. We've had some significant setbacks including the double digit temperatures that closed December. But every night after dinner, the collaboration begins and the results speak for the themselves. Since no outdoor rink would be complete without some warmth, we light a fire in a barrel in the back corner of our yard and skaters take turns warming their hands the old fashioned way.
On Thursday night, while we were minding our own ice rink,the many blocks where our house sits, went black. We were without power for just over 24 hours. Candles, fireplace, games and colouring took over and everyone adjusted with the same enthusiasm that came with the ice rink.
I'm happy to be reminded that sometimes in order to speed up, we should just slow down. Here's to the low tech joys of life and as we celebrate the inauguration of Barack Obama we can all rest easier knowing that he too celebrates the simpler things like common sense.

Carpool Conversation

It's been a big week which partially explains why I've been thin on the posts. Early January means a lot of things. Snow, cold temperatures, people talking about skiing, others talking about the Caribbean, company's engaged in Strategic planning activities, viruses, ear infections and street parking becoming scarce. The crunch on street parking and access on the street impacts me specifically because I carpool. Which is to say that I am courteously retrieved every morning from my front door by one of two people. Ramona or Stephen (pictured here together). Carpooling reminds me first and foremost of Fred and Barney of the Flintstones. It seems like such a happy, community activity and since I work for a company with a strong environmental identity and green policies, we are rewarded with premium parking for commuting together and doing our part. I am the advantaged party here. Stephen and Ramona do the driving. Because Stephen has been away this week and he's the usual ride, I've had a chance to reflect on the differences in the two experiences. With Stephen: He arrives precisely at 8:20am. In the winter he's highly annoyed if I don't come out right away because he will have to circle the block as there is nowhere to stop. (street parking/snow removal effect). I do most of the talking. He makes up things that he did the night before because it annoys him that I always ask. I bring a ceramic, lidless coffee cup that I attempt to leave in his car every night and if I do, he throws it out the window as he drives away. We talk a little bit about work but mostly we listen to the CBC until The Current comes on, then we are so irritated with the intro that we quickly switch and if we time it just right we get over to Virgin Radio's Billie's biz and hear the celebrity gossip that we both already seem to know about. He hates Eglinton Avenue. He swears at drivers and calls them names. We see some characters along the way that we have named(Crazy Legs and The Twins) to amuse ourselves and we arrive at the office mostly in a good mood ready to start the day.

With Ramona: She has two kids and a longer morning ritual so the timing is a bit looser. She calls me when she's "around the corner". She has heated seats. Mmmmm. She doesn't have a radio. We both bring ceramic, lidless cups that eventually accumulate in the back of her car so that every few days there is a symphony of clanging when you go around a corner. This annoys her. She hates Eglinton Avenue. We talk about the summer and crafts and work and projects and the blog and we arrive at work delighted to be so close to the front door. Tomorrow she'll be glad to go back to her silent morning drive and I'll miss her a little while I'm listening to Stephen tell me about his business trip to Montreal and how he didn't speak a word of English while he was there and that he bumped into Justin Trudeau who asked him where he got his hat.

What's in a name?

This is the puppy. That's his name right now too. The puppy. Working in HR, you look at a lot of resumes and you certainly glean something from looking at the name. So knowing that this puppy's success and happiness might be hinged on him having the right name. Scout, Walter and Otis are leading the charge. Suggestions anyone?

On another note, I am happy to say that it's Sunday morning and I'm sitting amid a huge amount of debris, sunlight streaming in from all 5 glorious windows, looking out over the snow covered rink, typing on my laptop, sewing machine and serger set up next to me on a long table feeling very close to content about my own "studio" starting to take shape. Lucky am I!

What I'm going to do today.

Sidenote:Blogging might look easy. To most it probably is. But for me it's taking some patience. Take this morning, I wrote the content and promptly translated the text to hindi. Don't get me wrong the page looked exotic, my writing may have even been more interesting but it got me swearing nonetheless.

So it's a Saturday. My delight/my dilemna. How to spend these next hours away from the responsibilities of the workweek. Let's look at it in two categories: 1.What I should do (I can feel a New Year's resolution being broken for having said "should") and 2.What I want to do.

In the "Should"category I have the tree dismantleing overall Christmas removal (yes, it's late), piles of laundry, decluttering (understatement) my front entranceway where the boots and mitts and coats and backpacks and artwork all lie together in solidarity, work on HR strategic plan presentation (okay, it's work related but it is a big "should"because the draft was actually due yesterday).

Then there are the things I want to do today like: A puzzle with my kids, go for a maiden family skate on the bumpy but beautiful rink in our backyard, read the Style and Review sections of the Globe and Mail and start to tinker with the crossword, call Karyn from the Workroom to find out the details on tomorrow's "box cushion" class because I got in off the waiting list and try to make the fantastic, Ramona inspired accessory that I might never wear but will really enjoy conceiving and looking at "the feather hairband" like the one pictured. Happy Saturday everyone. I sure hope that while you're all knocking off some "shoulds" you get to a few "wants".

Coveting a Capelet

I'm not sure how or why you wear a capelet but I keep visiting this one (twice in the past month) at Urban Outfitters, trying to rationalize buying it. The store has them merchandised with chandeliers and champagne glasses. I love chandeliers and champagne glasses. The visual display people at this large hip American retailer must know how I should live my life.I must need a capelet to achieve certain happiness. In times of fiscal conservatism it seems extravagant to me to buy an accessory so spirited. Decadence may seem gauche at the moment with the increasing unemployment rate and reduced consumer confidence. While I don't see myself stimulating the economy with mesh, beaded sequin, shimmery purchases at the moment, I am starting to think that maybe what our recession wardrobe needs a few throw-on, tie-up sparkly toppers to distract us all from any grey days ahead.

Ode to a Purse

I thought I owed it to myself to blog about my favourite purse. I made it. I put it away every spring in a plastic crate with the wool turtlenecks and cords and pull in out again every fall.  Happy to be reunited. Happy to face another fall/winter together.
I have the debate every fall. Is it time to retire it? Is it over (from a fashion perspective-not the relationship way)? Yet, when I’m feeling dowdy and badly assembled, I pull it out, put it on my shoulder and I feel dressed. The real reason that I haven’t retired it is that I keep getting compliments. I’m a sucker for the compliment even if they are actually just reactions to the fact that I'm wearing some feathers over my shoulder. I owe this purse such a debt of gratitude that I felt compelled to pay it proper homage. It also photographs well and I'm discovering that blogs are a lot about the pictures. Also, my good friend Stephen only likes blogs with lots of  pictures and I'm still trying to make up with him for not mentioning him in my first entry (see comments on "All I wanted for Christmas").I made this purse out of an existing bag that I bought on an autumn trip to the Aberfoyle Antique Market. The bag had a piece of rope as a handle and was exactly the wrong size. I made it smaller (to match the Fendi bag proportion of the moment). It was these Fendi bags that woke me up to the notion of the fashion purse. The expensive covetous accessory of the moment. I hadn’t really thought much of bags before then. Before kids, marriage, mortgage and real career trajectory. There was drinking, manicures and dreaming about the future. The future is here and so is the bag. For another season at least.

The Purple Heart

Happy 2009. Until Monday (when it's time for back to work after a much needed break) it will still feel like the old year. Soon we'll have to start dating things and we'll scratch out 2008 or '08 and write 2009. Then it will feel like a New Year is here. Colleagues will say Happy New Year and ask about the holidays. Yes, the New Year is really still a couple of days away. 

So before 2009 really gets underway let's agree that 2008 held surprises for all of us. I am hard pressed to think of someone who didn't have a challenging year in some fashion. I suspect that most of us are looking forward to turning the page on 2008. I congratulate all of us on having navigated to 2009. The best is ahead. 

I had the informal goal of increased crafting in 2009 and with this blog, sharing that experience. Needle felting was on my list of "learn to dos" and I'm happy to report that I have completed my first item. Needle felting takes patience, the needles are finicky, fragile and you poke yourself a lot. The woman at the Knit Cafe told me it hurt but I laughed in my head at my incredible pain tolerance. It turns out she was more right than me.  Karyn from the Workroom told me I was going to need patience and she was right but it's a therapeutic craft and I totally get why people are into it. I left my last 2 needles at my girlfriend Ginger's house (we broke the rest in sophomoric abandon) and I've been regretting it all night.I wanted to get back at it. What I did make was without any intention of a real sense of where I was going.  The end result happens to be a purple heart.  The Purple Heart is an award given to those killed or wounded in battle. For anyone who feels a little beaten up by 2008, this Purple Heart is for you. A reward for your courage and a symbol of your ability to overcome. Happy New Year to us all.