At home, in my city (I'm practicing saying I'm from Montreal - I hope I'm allowed?), it is already Canada Day as I write this. I usually don't do much to celebrate (it's a day that's mostly known as Moving Day to that city I love).
But July 1, a birthday of sorts, seems a good day to start things. Which just happens to be my plan.
1. The clothing pledge. I read, and now I forget where, about the clothing pledge: No new, manufactured articles of clothing for 4 months. I like the "new, manufactured" bit best as it leaves the fabric store's ever-loving arms open for when I need a cotton hug. I'm also going to let myself have 1 day a month - which doesn't have to be pre-planned, but is gone once it's gone - to maybe buy some new stuff. Oh, and must I mention that July is one of those days?
2. Let's just say that I'll be doing something that I don't strictly approve of for two weeks. A "challenge" of sorts. Don't plan to discuss it extensively here.
3. Green (red) worms! My new year's resolution this year involved a nix on the purchase of animal-tested products. I'm still doing okay on that one (although I have to say, I don't mean ANIMAL products - wool, milk, eggs are all part of my life), I have compact fluorescent or halogen in all the lamps (are those the same thing?). But I need to keep moving forward on it. Vermicompost is something that I need to explore more fully. Yes, that's living with worms. I think I'm okay with that. But where do I get them? And their home?
And a quick crafty update: I got a parcel from home (again) with sewing things and marble magnet things. And sat and cut and glued, and loved it again. The sewing continues to hold (need iron - have paycheck!), but will be on the move shortly? Please?
Friday, June 30, 2006
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Summer!
Walking home the block-and-a-half from the bus at 6 this evening (picking up parcels), I was thinking two things: I'm heartbroken, and I'm in love.
Heartbreak is no surprise at the moment, my world seems to be swinging around to face something new, that is, turning its back on something old, something I rather loved, and I'm feeling it.
But am I in love? It made me stop for a minute, literally turning in a circle on the sidewalk. I'm in love? Because, oh god, do I mean Edmonton? (There's no person this feeling belongs with).
The sky was glowing at me again, and it was the first day of summer (I didn't know it at the time).
The boxes contained wonders: a stack of my cds, and some cookbooks, sent from home. Old friends, basically. Sam Roberts is singing in my house right now.
And the cookbooks? One, appropriately enough, was my stained, creased, and smudged copy of Forever Summer. Love.
Heartbreak is no surprise at the moment, my world seems to be swinging around to face something new, that is, turning its back on something old, something I rather loved, and I'm feeling it.
But am I in love? It made me stop for a minute, literally turning in a circle on the sidewalk. I'm in love? Because, oh god, do I mean Edmonton? (There's no person this feeling belongs with).
The sky was glowing at me again, and it was the first day of summer (I didn't know it at the time).
The boxes contained wonders: a stack of my cds, and some cookbooks, sent from home. Old friends, basically. Sam Roberts is singing in my house right now.
And the cookbooks? One, appropriately enough, was my stained, creased, and smudged copy of Forever Summer. Love.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Me. Sorta
I went into the library on a beautiful day and came out into a crazy windstorm. The saying is something like: If you live on the prairies, always bring a sweater. And sunglasses. And a scarf and mittens. And shorts. The weather here, she cannot be tay-med. It rained briefly, but I could see beautiful blue sky up ahead (towards home!), and after a few minutes the worst of it had passed.
The sky was beautiful and alive (yes, I GET that phrase, I don't think it needs to be on license plates everywhere), and crazy and huge. And blue. My friend, in a meme, named light blue as a colour that reminds her of me. Sky blue? If so, I'm flattered.
[E.T.A.(06/21/06): Yup, a second friend, same meme, sky blue.]
I am a prairie girl at heart. I seem to be stuck with this condition, despite having fallen in love with Montreal, with Edinburgh, with Greece.
I live in Edmonton at the moment, which is like my hometown SUPASIZED. I work a meh job at a nice place. I come home to two cats (one of whom climbs up into my lap and purrs if he thinks I've forgotten to feed them) in a little basement apartment in a certain kind of area (many people, having heard where I live, offer the phrase "isn't it a little...uh..." I assume they mean sketchy. Research supports the idea that they might mean something else).
I bake. I knit. I am trying to keep plants alive, trying to sew again, trying to put down roots (yup, I said it).
The sky was beautiful and alive (yes, I GET that phrase, I don't think it needs to be on license plates everywhere), and crazy and huge. And blue. My friend, in a meme, named light blue as a colour that reminds her of me. Sky blue? If so, I'm flattered.
[E.T.A.(06/21/06): Yup, a second friend, same meme, sky blue.]
I am a prairie girl at heart. I seem to be stuck with this condition, despite having fallen in love with Montreal, with Edinburgh, with Greece.
I live in Edmonton at the moment, which is like my hometown SUPASIZED. I work a meh job at a nice place. I come home to two cats (one of whom climbs up into my lap and purrs if he thinks I've forgotten to feed them) in a little basement apartment in a certain kind of area (many people, having heard where I live, offer the phrase "isn't it a little...uh..." I assume they mean sketchy. Research supports the idea that they might mean something else).
I bake. I knit. I am trying to keep plants alive, trying to sew again, trying to put down roots (yup, I said it).
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Fallen into a fabric store
So, yeah, I hiked out (if by hiked you mean took a lovely bus), to this fabric store on the South Side of Edmonton, Marshalls.
Which, wowie. I was in there for two hours, and that was not nearly enough time. The irresponsible part of my brain is already planning a return trip. These are just about half the fabrics I picked up there, and I have plans for them. SECRET plans, for the moment.
I am sad that this blog is not more active and even if I have to post crappy flickr-ed photos for a while, I am going to work to change that.
Which, wowie. I was in there for two hours, and that was not nearly enough time. The irresponsible part of my brain is already planning a return trip. These are just about half the fabrics I picked up there, and I have plans for them. SECRET plans, for the moment.
I am sad that this blog is not more active and even if I have to post crappy flickr-ed photos for a while, I am going to work to change that.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Weekend
Having the Job from Helltm means that weekends (as well as evenings, lunch hours, that time before you get to work, bathroom breaks, and the few moments no one's ordering me around) take on a greater-than-normal importance. I come home on Friday night needing time to recuperate, time to languish, time to surf the internet (about the biggest problem with the Job from Hell is that they don't let me at the computers on a regular basis, even during lunch).
But I also need time to bake things; to sew up a bunny's head, to think about what I want to do with the pretty coloured paper I rescued from the recycling bin. This weekend was spent on strawberry shortcake casserole and peach iced tea (both from Katie Brown), and various knitting and crochet projects.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Baking eggs
A couple days ago I had the most confusing conversation with a coworker about eggs. I had run out of this most essential staple, and was running to the grocery store to pick some up. "Because I want to bake" I told her. "You want to bake eggs?!" "I want to bake cookies." "Oh, right."
At the time I wasn't really thinking about the kind of cookie I was planning for, which turned out to be a bonus because trying to explain that they do look rather like eggs would have added a level of confusion to my day that I am generally unprepared to deal with.
The egg-cookies were put on hold for 24 hours in any case as I am currently without microwave, and therefore lack a 30 second method of achieving softened butter. The truth is I love the little ritual of pulling out a bit of butter in the a.m. and knowing it'll be yummy baked goods by that night. It's a small promise to myself.
But they finally emerged this morning, warm and lemon-scented, from the oven. Being a kid who likes to follow the pattern, I stuck pretty closely to the recipe, with one small exception. The lemon curd is meant to be dolloped on after baking, while the cookies are still warm. I took the obvious step of baking some with curd already added, in deference to the jam-jam, a cookie loved by my mother (in honor of whom this whole experiment was originally undertaken). I have a definite preference for the gently baked jam, especially if you're gulping the cookies down still warm, standing by the oven.
At the time I wasn't really thinking about the kind of cookie I was planning for, which turned out to be a bonus because trying to explain that they do look rather like eggs would have added a level of confusion to my day that I am generally unprepared to deal with.
The egg-cookies were put on hold for 24 hours in any case as I am currently without microwave, and therefore lack a 30 second method of achieving softened butter. The truth is I love the little ritual of pulling out a bit of butter in the a.m. and knowing it'll be yummy baked goods by that night. It's a small promise to myself.
But they finally emerged this morning, warm and lemon-scented, from the oven. Being a kid who likes to follow the pattern, I stuck pretty closely to the recipe, with one small exception. The lemon curd is meant to be dolloped on after baking, while the cookies are still warm. I took the obvious step of baking some with curd already added, in deference to the jam-jam, a cookie loved by my mother (in honor of whom this whole experiment was originally undertaken). I have a definite preference for the gently baked jam, especially if you're gulping the cookies down still warm, standing by the oven.
The inevitable crafty blog
Having wandered in the back door via a knitting blog, I am becoming dissatisfied. My crafty life is all over the place right now, in baking and gardening, and I have a pile of beautiful coloured paper waiting to be transformed into something lovely.
I had a free morning at work a couple days ago, and I was immediately drawn into the crazy-creative lives of a number of bloggers who sew and paint and build, nary a knitter among them. Blogging for me is a constant search for an identity, who do I want to pretend to be? I keep remembering that I am not a knitter first, that I love embroidery and cross stitch, that knitting was the chosen outlet only because it was winter and cold and you have to have somewhere to set up the sewing machine (and it has to actually function).
There is a pile of quilting cotton hiding in the closet calling my name, my fingers itch for an embroidery hoop, and floss. And, even worse for a knitter, I've been at the crochet, which doesn't come easily but provides results I can't ignore.
I had a free morning at work a couple days ago, and I was immediately drawn into the crazy-creative lives of a number of bloggers who sew and paint and build, nary a knitter among them. Blogging for me is a constant search for an identity, who do I want to pretend to be? I keep remembering that I am not a knitter first, that I love embroidery and cross stitch, that knitting was the chosen outlet only because it was winter and cold and you have to have somewhere to set up the sewing machine (and it has to actually function).
There is a pile of quilting cotton hiding in the closet calling my name, my fingers itch for an embroidery hoop, and floss. And, even worse for a knitter, I've been at the crochet, which doesn't come easily but provides results I can't ignore.
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