ag.gray.gate

Happy Birthday, Baby!

2012-02-21T18:11:00.001-08:00

This is a sort of reverse ag.gray.gate post wherein I created a cake pop collage for the blog, forgot to post it here, and this past week posted it to Pinterest instead! Sacrilege, I know. What can I say? Pinterest has swept me away...for the moment at least!

For Jack's birthday we made Ice Cream Cake Pops as per his request. They turned out fantastic and were really simple. The poppets were thrilled!

A little about the pops...
-The pics don't show us mixing the buttercream icing into the crumbled cake. The texture should be that of raw cookie dough. Roll and chill.
-Having access to american style Almond candy bark makes all the difference in the world. Anything else will ruin your day. Trust me.
-Melt the bark in a double boiler. Dip cones and place on chilled balls. Chill again before final coating.
-I was lucky enough to find mini cones with flat bottoms, which meant I didn't have to fashion or find some sort of mini ice cream cone holder.
-Sophie Wong took the gorgeous inset photo. Mad skillz, that woman.

Ta da. Birthday magic.

A Poultry Life…

2011-11-10T16:33:00.001-08:00

My family and I are part of a growing trend. We havebackyard chickens. It all started as a good idea last spring as we took part inRossland’s 2^nd annual ‘Chicken Crawl’. At every house along the Walkchicken owners professed how easy and inexpensive constructing coops and runswith found goods could be. They all built their structures in a weekend. ThePoppets really dug the hens and I was surprised just how much Mike seemed tolike the idea as well.

Then a girlfriend called with actual chicks to give andsuddenly there was a very real deadline looming in front of us. We began to gather‘inexpensive found material’. Insert reality check #1 here. Not cheap. Even with afree metal roof and free siding.

We had ourselves a good old-fashioned Amish style barnbuilding. Check #2 - it took more way more than a weekend to finish. Family came in from Ontario one week. We sent them out to the yardand didn’t let them in till the ground was cleared, foundation level, runframed in and a roof went up. Jack’s God Parents visited the next week andtogether we stained, sided, and put up the hardware cloth. It really lookedlike a real chicken coop now! In fact so much so, that we had never seen a raccoon in our yard before and that night two came to inspect the coop that now resembled a coop! Smartlittle buggars. The bandits found it empty though as chicks were still inside our house. Whew!

Then there was Velma. Who quickly decided, despite her Terrier-ness, she was themamma. Thank goodness, I thought for sure she was going toeat the little yellow fluff balls.

Last, but not least, Mike’s dad dropped by and gave the coop a onceover…and a few more cross supports. Then it was time for the chick–e–boos tomove on in!

They love their coop! All it needs is a chandelier :)

The Truth About Peas and Carrots

2011-10-26T15:22:00.000-07:00

I make a lot of food from scratch for this little family. For lots of different reasons - mostly because I want my kids to ~~adore my cooking above all others~~ enjoy healthy food. But there are also times when I crumple under the pressure of requests for "Cheesy Noodles", a catchall phrase used in my house to describe any pasta with cheese. This phrase saves me in restaurants where a variation might be offered. They mean macaroni and cheese.

Recently I have found a shortcut. A way to make Cheesy Noodles a little healthier, and give already great food a little boost. Frozen peas and carrots. In everything. Instead of ice in hot soup I throw in a handful of the frozen veg. In the final minutes of boiling pasta I throw a cup or two into the pot. When I make hearty fall and winter dishes, like stews and pot pies and I have slaved over a handmade crust the ease of carrots and peas thrills me!

The perfect crime. They are organic, inexpensive, washed, cut, raw, and FULL of all things good.

Appalachian Mojito

2011-03-14T10:46:00.000-07:00

This is the first time I have ever blogged from the iPad. Michael took the Mac to Vancouver out of necessity so I am left to be judged by autocorrect. Sometimes super helpful but most of the time not. I also find myself sans streaming video and switching to the web version of everything. I am too much of a luddite to store my photos offsite so this will be a pretty bland week in terms of delicious photos. Perhaps I will cheat and add them later :)

Anyhoo, I recently came across an article in my April 2011 subscription of Style at Home magazine with a mouthwatering recipe that I immediately tore out and instructed the husband to make for me. Fast forward a few days to when we had the actual ingredients and make it he did!Soooooo delicious! A little bourbon, mint, Limonata, sugar and crushed ice felt like heaven after the week we had and it has turned my thoughts to spring.

The drink itself had some blasé name that I cannot remember and when I dig out the recipe I'll add it along with pics so we have dubbed it the "Appalachian Mojito". Much better. I think I'll go have one now and try to forget how lackluster this post is versus how offing long it took to write.

Pucker Up from Style at Home :
Crushed ice, 1 1/2 oz Bourbon,
1tsp granulated sugar (I also used simple syrup),
2tsp Freshly Squeezed Lemon Juice,
2 Sprigs Fresh Mint, Pinch Orange Zest,
3oz San Pellegrino Limonata
Half fill a tall glass with crushed ice. Pour in bourbon, sugar and lemon juice; add mint and orange zest. Use a muddled or a honey dripper to mash ingredients together to blend. Fill the glass with more crushed ice and top with Limonata. Stir gently before serving.

Happy Birthday

2011-03-10T10:10:00.000-08:00

Today is my Mom's birthday! Happy Birthday Woman!!!!! I wanted to take this time to share just how incredibly blessed I am to have this wonderful woman in my life. My mother is strong beyond compare, hysterically funny, humble, gorgeous, amazingly personable, spicy, selfless and brilliant.
Now as many things as I could say I found the following quotes, all of which made me a little verkelpt, to be so accurate and succinct I could do no better. These excerpts are so true about my Mom I think they really must have been written as an homage to her alone.

The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new. ~Rajneesh

A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts. ~Washington Irving

One good mother is worth a hundred schoolmasters. ~George Herbert

Who fed me from her gentle breast
And hushed me in her arms to rest,
And on my cheek sweet kisses prest?
My Mother.
~Anne Taylor

A daughter is a mother's gender partner, her closest ally in the family confederacy, an extension of her self. And mothers are their daughters' role model, their biological and emotional road map, the arbiter of all their relationships. ~Victoria Secunda

A mom reads you like a book, and wherever she goes, people read you like a glowing book review. ~Robert Brault

Most of all the other beautiful things in life come by twos and threes, by dozens and hundreds. Plenty of roses, stars, sunsets, rainbows, brothers and sisters, aunts and cousins, comrades and friends - but only one mother in the whole world. ~Kate Douglas Wiggin
I love you Mom - Happy Birthday xoxo.

Wordless Wednesday - Heaven

2011-03-09T09:03:00.000-08:00

Home Exchange

2011-03-08T07:44:00.000-08:00

One of the many HomeExchange sites.

I first heard about Home Exchange a few years ago and thought that it sounded like an incredibly fabulous idea! At the time though, we were living in Burnaby. Still Vancouver, but no one on the exchange boards was exactly chomping at the bit to head into the burbs. Or so I thought. In retrospect it might have been the exact place someone wanted and needed to be for a visit to the Lower Mainland for all kinds of reasons. I should not have put our little townhouse in a box.

Anyhoo. The time is here. I finally finished making a photo tour of our home and we are going to take the plunge into an international home exchange site. I have no idea which one. I am thinking the ones that you have to pay for are best after overhearing a girlfriend talking about her online dating experience. She described paying as being an incentive not to dick people around. Good advice.

One of the many reasons we love this little town is that living here affords us the ability to travel. We want to travel once a year. And, bonus, Rossland is the kind of place that other people will come around the globe to visit. I meet them on our streets everyday! What with worldclass skiing in the winter and being the mountain biking capitol of Canada in the summer, amongst other things. Huzzah :)

There are some pretty incredible destinations available in the exchange and it cuts the cost of travelling in half. Great, because we have two tiny bums that get charged full price for plane/train seats everywhere we go. Rossland is two hours from the Spokane airport and or we would drive to Vancouver to find the best - read cheapest - flights (leaving one car for the exchange family). Now enrolling does not mean we will find a match immediately but many of the sites do guarantee that you find an exchange within the first year, or the next years listing is free. Sounds good to me.

Have you tried a home exchange? Which one?

THAT Child...

2011-03-07T09:18:00.000-08:00

http://bit.ly/hXtgii

Jack pushed his best friend through a glass window the other day. There, I said it. And it could have been much worse...because the stairs were half a foot to the left. Every now and then I find I am the parent of THAT child and it is so embarrassing.

Now a few things that I know to be true about Jack; he is very intelligent and way handsome. He is kind, compassionate, patient and encourages those around him. He is empathetic to a fault, sometimes skiing away from us so he can check on that random guy who just fell over. Jack is the child who plays so inclusively I have to remind myself that he is four.

Crime Scene

But he IS four. And sometimes he looses his shit.

On this night, loosing a game of Mario Party proved too much, and he pushed the boy who won. Unfortunately they were on a pull out bed in our television room which sent his best friend flying (thank the lord above that it was not down the flight of stairs) off the bed and through the 75-year-old-original-to-the-house-glass-door.

First things first. He should NOT have pushed his bestie. Obvious. But why, when he loose his cool so rarely, does everything seem to conspire to make the event soooo epic?! I mean when Jack gets pushed, or bitten, or some brat pulls his hair I seem to be the only witness and life goes on. But when Jack pushes his friend it happens to be the day we let them play on the pull-out (usually they sit on the green table above), sending said friend off into the air, AND through a GLASS DOOR!!!!! What the what?! Seriously?!

When Gramma asked Jack why he had done it he answered through tears, "I just don't know what happened...I never do stuff like that.". Jack has apologized, and all has been forgiven. He does not really grasp what could have happened (killing your bff is a pretty heavy concept) but he is paying for the glass with money from his piggybank. THAT has made a huge impact with him.

And my girlfriend still lets her baby play with mine. So there's that. Oh, and the Wii has been moved back to the playroom.

Cuppy Cups...

2011-03-04T11:20:00.000-08:00

I rip all sorts of stuff out of magazines, but I think that this is actually one of the very first things I have ever actually followed through with. When I was racking my brain as to how best serve Aly's Vegetarian Chilli (from Aly Dahl Designs) at my and my husbands 8th Annual Oscar Party I thought I would give these a go. Of course by then I had lost the torn out page when I was cleaning. So this is what I best imagine the recipe would have gone like...and the best part was not having to wash or toss 24 dirty bowls!

1. I sprayed 24 Medium-sized flour Tortillas with Olive Oil. Next time I would also sprinkle with Garlic Salt at this point. Or Chipotle.
2. Put them into a warm frying pan on uber low and covered them briefly (so they would be more pliable)
3. Then I placed the warm and slimy rounds into large muffin tins and baked at 375 F till they became golden Cuppy Cups.
4. Fill with something delicious!
5. Enjoy your accolades :)

Teevee or Not Teevee ...Netflix and Cable

2011-03-03T08:57:00.000-08:00

Ughhhhh... so Netflix turned out to be a bust. Boo. Terrible selection at a great price. In Canada at least. And then there was that threatened bandwidth cap. Good gravy. If the selection improves on Netflix though, I am not entirely opposed to give it another go.

When our little family moved to Rossland last summer we made the big decision to get rid of our cable . It was only at the time the choice seemed so monumental. In retrospect it hasn't really been missed, really everything that we would watch on cable is available online. Even CBC Kids.

We ended up getting cable back though, so that we might host our annual Oscar Party. This Deal-with-the-Devil includes a 3 month promotion and HD channels at a low, low price. Which ends up still being ridiculously expensive. Ridiculously expensive. I thought, "man, it will be H to the ARD prying the PVR from my daily life schedule once again.". However, I find myself checking the calendar regularly to see if our cable promotion is over yet so we can get rid of it. I am frugal not stupid.

Shocking, I know. I never thought I would prefer a life sans television, but I do. I am amazed at how quickly it has turned the poppets into tiny marketing machines. Isla, who has never been to, or even seen, a Red Lobster, now professes her undying love for the company. Egads. Jack begs for all manner of toys and is quickly developing an unhealthy perspective about germs.

Just the other day I caught myself singing the five dollar footlong jingle. Isla shouts "skunk" whenever someone farts. Classy. Incorporating as always, and this might have been the straw that broke the cable's back, Isla called me a "five-dollar-skunk". A tidy, albeit unfortunate, amalgamation of pop culture.

The love affair is over.

Wordless Wednesday - Does This Count?

2011-03-02T06:28:00.000-08:00

A Cake for Isla

2011-03-01T07:59:00.000-08:00

I have not a clue as to how a little girl who has virtually no exposure to the Wonderful World of Disney has such an enormous affection for all things Tinkerbell, but she does. Isla's heart on for the tiny beast appeared one day out of the blue and here it has stayed.

So, of course, for Isla's birthday I endeavoured to make a Tinkerbell cake. I had seen the photos online. I might have shown them to Isla, and now her mind was made up. It looked really difficult. The combined potential brutal honesty of two preschoolers sent shivers up my spine. It was gonna have to not suck. I was scared.

Now being cable-less has left me at a disadvantage. As far as gleaning useless information from TLC to be recalled at convenient moments I am now at a loss. Internet to the rescue! I Googled how-to videos on 5 different kinds of fondant and how to apply it. The term 'crumb coat' kept coming up...so I Googled that too. Down the rabbit hole I went.

I really wanted to make marshmallow fondant from scratch. It tastes better and doesn't have as much crap in it...then went and bought Wilton pre-made and added food colouring. The Wilton site itself was a wealth of information and I used their butter cake recipe in the end. And despite cautionary cries in chat rooms everywhere, I used my Kitchen Aid mixing bowl as a cake pan. It worked like a chizzarm!!!!

Ice Cream Cake Pops by Bakerella

Long story short, the cake did not suck...it was all kinds of awesome, nowhere near as difficult as it looks, but every bit as pretentious! Fondant is absolutely my new favourite thing! Oh, and my three year old :)

For Jack's Birthday I plan on successfully trying my hand at these Cake Pops...

Ummm...awkward.

2011-02-28T09:00:00.000-08:00

So, it was has been a while. A few weeks ago (6 weeks ago to be exact) I received the following message on Facebook from a friend and avid ag.gray.gate reader:

"it's been 20 days since the last ag.gray.gate post... and 40+ days since the post before that! This trend cannot continue.".

But my absence has persisted. I feel as though I have fallen off the face of the planet. I am not sure exactly how it happened. I had no intention of my new endeavour into the small business realm completely kiboshing this blog. This blog that I love, and that I miss terribly. Truth be told, I would rather write here.

When I bumbled my way back to ag.gray.gate last night I realized I missed a couple important events.

Firstly, the designs I had used from Shabby Blogs was gone. They had sent out numerous messages, helpful hints and finally changed servers. Oops.

Secondly, ag.gray.gate passed the 10, 000 visitor mark. Wow. Thank you. I am humbled...and I am back.

I am excited - I have so much to tell you!

See you tomorrow. xo.

Toby goes for a Ride

2010-12-20T05:31:00.000-08:00

Well, that was quite a hiatus! Thank you for all the kind words and support over these past few weeks as I worked, studied and researched. I loved hearing that ag.gray.gate's daily offerings were missed. For those of you who have been waiting...I handed in my completed business plan for the Boomtown Brewing Company last Monday and by Friday I had the news. It was accepted. Yay, for this Mompreneur and for this little family!!!! 2011 is gonna be a BIG year. I am equal parts excited and scared.
Other than me being fully engrossed in the brewing world, it has been life as usual. Since moving to Rossland six months ago my husband Mike commutes quite a bit back to Vancouver. On a good trip he goes to film something, on all the other trips he goes so that there is food on the table. Sometimes he crashes with friends and at other times he sleeps in the Cavallac. When he is able to take Toby (the Chihuahua) with him I am so grateful. Toby, our first baby, gets some serious one on one time with Mike, and I have only three beasts to take care of here at home.

One of Mike's most recent trips was for the explicit purpose of an audition. The audition was at 3pm. It takes roughly 7 and a half hours to get to Vancouver. Afterward, he would turn around and drive back to Rossland. He wore his costume in the car and didn't think to bring a change of clothing. Why would he? The trip was there and back again in 16 hours.

One of the things we have most enjoyed about life here in Rossland is the lack of traffic. Life here is super chill despite Forbes Magazine repeatedly giving us a spot on their top ten ski resort list. In fact, an article was written about our sleepy little town, labelling us the most laid back ski town in North America. Oh, and the Lonely Planet warns visitors about our erratic jaywalkers. Like I said, there is no traffic.

Anyhoo, 7 hours and 25 minutes into Mike's Vancouver trip, he was stopped in traffic two blocks from the studio. Suddenly, Toby begins to panic. Like, PANIC! He runs in tiny panicky circles in Mike's lap, pausing only briefly to put his paws on the window ledge and peer longingly outside, then resuming this frantic cycle. Michael barely has time to process that all three pounds of dog is in the throes of a man sized emergency. He says, "Just a sec Tobes and I'll find a place to pull over". Apparently Michael's reassurance was too little too late, for it was then that Toby placed his paws on the window ledge once more and shat helplessly all down the front of the only outfit Mike had.

Gagging, he found an ever elusive parking spot, and he struggled to figure out how to make this shituation better all the while managing to not strangle Toby. Mike went straight for the washroom inside. He washed out as much as he could which left little time for his still rank clothing to dry. Now he was wet and smelled like poop. Upon entering the audition room he says to the director, "Now, I know what this looks like, but it isn't pee. It's shit...but it's not mine". What an ice breaker.

Homage Monday - Nicole Maas

2010-11-29T10:03:00.000-08:00

Nickie is a certain kinda someone - like a legend. She works and plays fields traditionally dominated by men and, well, dominates :) She is pretty awesome! Usually I will use selected portions of what an artist sends for this article but with Nickie there is sooooo much and it is all soooo good! Inside industry information, espionage, babies, passion...it's all here for the reading, thanks Nickie:

Ok, so... bio. Present to past? Past to present?

Past to present...

I slogged away in design school at Emily Carr for 5 years and graduated from the Graphic Design dept. Took a co-op role with Electronic Arts in 1996 and fell in love with the video game industry. After a year at EA I went back to Emily Carr and finished my program in 1997, and then took at job at Radical Entertainment. Worked as the studio front end (interface design) lead for 3 years and left in 2000 to delve into the up and coming world of web design in Austin, TX. In 2001 the dot com crash hit hard and I found myself pining away for games again. Headed back to Vancouver and fell back into a spot as the interface design lead for NHL on the PC. Worked on the NHL franchise from 2002 to 2006 before moving over to work on a little known console called the Nintendo Revolution. The Revolution is now commonly know as the Wii and I helped to create Madden 07, a launch title for the Wii. It was the number three rated Wii game that year.

During Madden Wii I was hungry to move into art direction, territory previously un-touched by interface designers within EA. I worked my way through the position of Art Lead (which was overseeing and directing all aspects of game art; concept, animation, environments, characters, effects and front end) for a couple of Nintendo DS titles, and got a shot at art directing a short-cycle title called FIFA Street 3 for the Nintendo DS. After FS3 I led Celebrity Sports Showdown for the Wii, which was a fantastic but little known title that fell victim to poor timing and no marketing dollars for launch, so we found ourselves prey to the dust bunnies on the bottom shelves of the game stores :( . Coincidentally Nintendo - who gets a behind the scenes look at all the Wii games in production across the globe - came out with a game called Wii Sports Resort which was virtually identical to our game, but much better marketed and featured the Nintendo Miis (instead of obscure celebrities like Keith Urban and Kristy Yamaguchi) canoeing and flying little jet planes on an island sports resort. Hmmm... coincidence? Anyway, I left near the end of that title to have my brilliant baby. After a year I came back from mat leave to mixed titles including EA Sports Active and FIFA Online. I'm now currently art directing two undisclosed FIFA titles that will ship in late 2011.

Amidst all that I purchased a small dog daycare business in 2004 which I worked with my husband to turn into Pup Culture Dog Daycare, which he proudly continues to operate.

Over the past 5 years I have worked with my vizsla, Zuzu, in competition obedience and agility as well as tracking, field and conformation. This past summer we competed at the 2010 Canadian National Agility Championships and she recently earned her Master Agility Dog of Canada title. I also have a beagle whom I trial at Masters level in agility. In addition I have been providing obedience training through the daycare in my (ha ha) spare time. I've played Ultimate (frisbee) recreationally and competitively for the past 14 years (US Regionals 2001, World Ultimate Club Championships 2002, Canadian Nationals 2004) and continue to captain and participate in rec leagues to get my weekly cardio.

I am a mother (now single) who also bakes, draws, reads, writes, cooks, and most of all... LEARNS. I love to be challenged and I'm inspired by passion. Passion for pretty much anything turns my crank. I am addicted to "busy", and I am fired by gorgeous and innovative design.

My role models have been many, but most importantly, my mother who always said "Only boring people are bored." and taught me that we are responsible for our own happiness, and when we feel our spark burning out we need to "do something constructive!" And so, I go, I do, I love, I learn. That's me. :)

Doggy in the Window

2010-11-19T05:32:00.000-08:00

The other day my Facebook status read as follows:

ag.gray.gate ‎(Alicia) wishes I didn't wear my slippers outside and step in dookie. In other news... Free: one Velma. I'd say to a good home but we're not picky.

No offers. Not one.

Later that afternoon Jack and Isla were commiserating about their strong desire for a cat. Previous conversations with me about this impending arrival have alluded to the demise of one of the dogs. As in another animal entering our home requires the exit of a current resident beast, either Velma the Griffon or Tobias the Chihuahua.

"But I will be so sad if Velma goes away," says Jack. Then he continues "and Mommy and Daddy will be so sad if Toby dies.".

Burn. It's gonna be a long time till we get that cat.

Again with the Hair?

2010-11-12T11:56:00.000-08:00

I have this little precious vial of cream. As you may remember I am having an ongoing facial acne crisis where my zits think I am 16 and my wrinkles think I am 70. Awesomesauce. A fugly, humiliating combination. But there are people starving so get some perspective right?! Ughhhhhhhh....

Just so you know who we are dealing with here.

Anyhoo this precious little vial has silver in it. Whatever that means. So every night I have been putting the concoction onto my face and it seems to be helping. Or I respond well to sugar pills. I am easily persuaded and have a penchant for carpet baggers and psychosomatic tendencies.

I digress, the silver potion is working. That is, it was working until my almost three year old daughter found it and squeezed the entire contents of the precious little vial into her hair. My only precious little vial. That was a gift. So its not like I can just run out and grab another. It has to be shipped from Never-Never Land.

After having a ridiculous ugly-cry overreaction to the situation I snuggled my gross, cream-covered, sticky-headed little Bean till she slept. And in the morning I brushed her dry, matted little mess. I could have washed it out I suppose, but I brushed it anyway. And it felt good.

Wordless Wednesday - First Real Skiff

2010-11-10T10:25:00.000-08:00

Photo by www.tourismrossland.com

Somethings Gotta Give...

2010-11-08T10:28:00.000-08:00

I have some fantastic news...wait for it...wait for it... I am officially enrolled in the Self-Employment Program here in Rossland (well, Greater Trail I guess)! Now I have kept fairly mum on this whole subject but with this latest development the cat is out of the bag. This is the news we have been waiting for!

Both my husband and myself have long dreamt of owning our own business, we just never knew what that was going to look like. Then just over six months ago, in the few days between putting an offer on a house here in town, but before listing/selling our Vancouver home, we decided to start a brewery in Rossland. Then we packed up our old life in Vancouver and began our new life here.

Here is how the idyllic dream looks: We (me funded through Community Futures and Michael as my unpaid man servant) establish Rossland's first brewery since prohibition put the Le Roi Brewery out of business at the turn of the century. Then we are on our own. We have a smallish store-front, on-site craft-brewing, retail and tasting room on Columbia (Main Street). Our little Company begins to support and sponsor all the fabulous events that the wonderful people of Rossland create, host and attend. Investors come out of the woodwork to throw money at such a fabulous idea enabling us to grow and prosper. We build an entirely green, zero waste, incredibly efficient brewery which truly reflects Rossland and our communal values. We even employ some local farmers to grow our hops which is mutually beneficial. The Brewery garnishes heaps of local support, and because it is easily one of the best beers anyone has tasted word spreads like wildfire and our Brewery becomes a tourist attraction as well. From there it is all up.

Currently I find myself writing, researching and developing a business plan under the tutelage of the Program. Michael is in Vancouver again this week, (hopefully he'll have and audition and book a another part before Christmas!) which means in addition to business planning I am the sole parent here for a week. YAY! Sarcasm, that was sarcasm. Which brings me to the point where I ask your understanding and allegiance. Please bear with me if I miss a day here and there over the next few months, keep coming back - I will not be going anywhere!

Thank you all so much for your love and support, for your readership and comments. Oh, and if you have a half million kicking around, I know just the place for you to invest it :)

Kettle Corn...Sort of.

2010-11-04T06:48:00.000-07:00

It has been four years since there was a microwave in our home and surprisingly it really was not a very difficult adjustment to make. In fact the only thing I found myself missing was the popcorn.

I dug out the air popper that we had been given for our wedding. Air popped corn can be delicious, it is low in fat, has a fraction of the salt and none of the chemicals that are put into microwave popcorn. But it lacks that je ne sais quoi of its microwavable cousin.
It was only recently that I discovered just how remarkable popcorn over the stove can be. I have two wonderful girlfriends whose wonderful husbands make incredible popcorn over the stove. It is far quieter than air popped (which is important after putting poppets to bed)and I find it is in fact easier as well. And my house smells like a movie theatre.

Here is my recipe for Kettle Corn...sort of:

-In a large pot over high-ish heat melt 3-4 Tbls. Coconut Oil (high flashpoint and heaps of good for you stuff).

-After a minute or two add 1/2 cup kernels.

-K, so here for an optional treat, I will add 1/4 cup of sugar for more of a "kettle corn" kinda feel.

-Stir well and cover.

-Lower heat a titch.

-Shake often until popping stops.

-Dump into a large bowl, or leave it in the pot and just protect the surface where the pot will sit.

-If sugar has been added, salt to taste. If no sugar has been added I will add 1tsp. now as well as a few Tbls. melted butter. Sometimes.

(not so) Wordless Wednesday - Awesome

2010-11-03T06:42:00.000-07:00

Dreaming...

2010-11-02T00:42:00.000-07:00

As an actor I volunteered to play the rejection game. I'm sadistic that way I guess. I walk into an audition room full of the knowledge that the people on the other side of the desk have made up their mind before I have even hit my mark. These are my choices and my experiences as an adult, so it is completely different to watch my children experience the rejection of not being chosen.

Stare.ca

I know this is a life lesson and that it will serve a child well in the future. There will be teams Jack and Isla won't make, or friends who do not want to play with them. She might not get a speaking part in the school play and his poem might not be picked for publication. Then again, they might.

We started making trips to Science World beginning when Jack was just a baby. It really is a great place to wile away a rainy day in Van. The kids love the familiarity of the static exhibits, anticipate things like Lego or Body World coming to town, and always there is the excitement of 'making' things work. My little scientists.

Anyhoo, in the four years we had been going, Jack had never been chosen to be a helper on the Science Stage at a live show. Granted for the first year he was a spitty lump, then I guess he was still pretty little for a while to play with Hydrogen and such - but he didn't know that. Jack always wanted to be picked and every time he was not, he was crest fallen. I tried my best to use these moments as empathetic teaching tools. "Maybe that little girl had never been picked either", "They were using big kids today", "It will be your turn one day, it just wasn't today". But still, baby Jack really had no frame of reference.

Too soon it seemed, our final trip to Science World arrived. In between experiments and tactile experience I tried to impress upon Jack and Isla both that this was our last visit before we moved to Rossland. We went to a Science Show, it was great as always, except that you-know-who never got to go up on stage. Still, we stayed for many hours, and then it was time for the last show of the day.

It was a weekday, so after about 2pm all the school kids had gone. As we sat down, there were maybe 5 or 6 other audience members. Isla was sleeping in her stroller. I had a good feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Jack," I said "I think that you are going to get picked today! Make sure you hold your hand up high." He held his little hand up so high and this wonderful staff member called Jack onto the stage! After what seemed a lifetime of waiting to a little person, he was finally chosen.

I could not have been more proud. Afterward I approached my new favourite staff member and explained Jack's circumstances. He told me I could always come and make a special request, but somehow that would have felt like cheating. Jack had made a wish with his whole heart and that day the lesson he learned was that dreams do come true...and he has the video to prove it!

Quiche-tastic!

2010-10-28T09:02:00.000-07:00

I have no idea when I started to like quiche. I never did as a child, there was always something about the dish that never seemed to sit right. Isla, on the other hand, will eat three man-sized pieces! It wasn't until I headed to a pot luck and wanted to A: try my hand at pie crust from scratch and B: make a large vegetarian dish for a friend who would be in attendance. It was a huge hit, inexpensive, and my previous aversion to quiche had apparently gone the way of the dodo. My personal verdict; delicious!

Now that we have had our first snow fall of the year here in Rossland I am starting to break out the good ole comfort foods once more- cause they are splendid I can use the oven to heat the house!

I follow the recipe for fresh pie crust on the box of the Crisco all-vegetable shortening. Sometimes I will use butter, even though the pros recommend against it, since the shortening is hydrogenated. The crust will be more brown and flavourful with butter, and I still cannot decide which way I prefer. Oh I do substitute some of the regular unbleached flour with whole wheat or better yet, Spelt. Some, not all, no more than a quarter.

The first misconception I had about quiche was that baking one would require heaps of eggs. The one I make only requires three. I pre-make several balls of dough and freeze or refrigerate them (depending on the weeks meal plan) then as I am combining the quiche innards I preheat the oven to 400 F and bake the empty crust. It takes about 7-10 minutes to mix the following ingredients:

In a mixing bowl beat 3 eggs with a fork. Stir in:
-half cup crumbled feta
-1-2 diced or chopped onion (depending on your texture preference)
-cup of full fat, plain yoghurt
-pack of defrosted and drained chopped spinach
-dash of nutmeg
-Salt and pepper to taste since some Feta is quite salty already
-Pour into crust.
-Top with fresh grated Asiago.
Turn the oven down and bake for 45 minutes at 375 F

Boom: quiche in under an hour!

Wordless Wednesday - Flying Steamshovel

2010-10-27T08:58:00.000-07:00

The Flying Steamshovel

This Little Piggie...

2010-10-26T06:15:00.000-07:00

Canadian Halloween, it is the same day as American Halloween but ones costume needs to be designed in such a way that it can be worn over a snowsuit. It is either that or you are forced to wear your snowsuit over top and then what was the point of even wearing a costume? Ughhhh...I hated that as a child...that daylight Trick or Treating scene from E.T. where the kids are running door to door in their tutus and tights always made me wicked jealous. That being said I still had my love on for Halloween till I was in my twenties, have I mentioned that I look like I am 12?!

For Jack's very first Halloween I wanted to be crafty and make his costume from scratch. I loved my costumes growing up and they were never store bought. My mom made them when I was little and later we would drag out our parents old clothes or hit Value Village and assemble wonderful outfits. One year I commissioned a poodle skirt, meaning I begged and my mother made it happen. I wore that poodle skirt for three years. It was wonderful. I cannot believe I have no idea where it is now.

Little Piggy Jack @5 months

As the 31st of October loomed large in front of me I realized I was waaaaaay too disorganized and unmotivated to buy the scratch materials, so I improvised - still well inbounds of my "must-make" parameters.

I bought the biggest stuffed animal I could find, gutted it, and cut its face off. I then hemmed the raw edges, sewed ties onto the back and glued the nose onto a piece of cardboard with a Dummy poking through. Genius!

I loved it so much that both of my not-so-chubby little piggies wore it! Some other families have even borrowed the piggy and provided their own stuffing! It was the best "Home-Made" costume EVER!

Little Piggy Isla @11months

Homage Monday - Matthew Erickson

2010-10-25T06:54:00.000-07:00

Matthew Erickson - IMBD

I have been writing these Homage Mondays for a few weeks now and with every article I feel increasingly blessed to have shared a moment of my life with these incredible artists. This is especially true of Matt. He is easily one of the most fascinating people I have ever met - and I cannot help but think that meeting him was a touch of serendipity.

When I was a knee-high my parents started the Castor Little Theatre company in Castor, Alberta. I loved the smells, sounds and spectacle of the theatre. I still do. After moving to Calgary I adored heading to the Rosebud Theatre for dinner and a show. It pulled on my heart in a special way. I would later discover it was Matt's parents who founded this iconic establishment in Rosebud, Alberta.

Charming, humble, funny and disarmingly handsome, Matthew Erickson was raised in this small arts community. He says that growing up in Rosebud made him an actor by default. He has performed theatre and opera, training in Canada and abroad.

Photo by Jesse Hutch

Seemingly random (cause that is how he rolls!) yet nonetheless a wicked important side note about the man: Matthew spent six months as a lay Franciscan monk. Trying to live a life of chastity, prayer, and poverty is pretty difficult in a modern setting. Since Franciscans cannot touch money, Matthew signed all his paychecks over to his roommate and lived simply off of prayer and charity. His Utopian life came to a crashing halt around tax season( <-- also the telltale sign one is an actor), when he was thrust back into the world of filthy lucre. When you ask him about this experience, he usually just mumbles quietly and looks into the distance.

Add to this that Matthew plays the banjo, is a Civil Engineer, amateur boxer, edited for Bodog Fight, directs for film and television, fences competitively - which is where he met his exceedingly lovely wife and future Olympian, Mona. They are Lovers AND Fighters!!!!!! He has spent many hours voicing over characters from the Dragonball and Gundam series for legions english speaking fans. I know that this might be the first time you are hearing about the man but, if you google Matthew or happen to hit an Anime Convention in Vancouver you will find he is already a legend.

A Sister Wife

2010-10-22T12:36:00.000-07:00

Deliverance shacks

Our new home is nestled in amongst some of the most breathtaking scenery I have ever had the pleasure of experiencing. That being said, there are still times when I pass through certain un-incorporated towns here in the Interior where I can't help but hum that little ditty from Deliverance. It is hot, dry, the lawns are spotted with vehicles and in my mind I see hillbillies rocking the day away on the front porch cleaning their Smith&Wesson whilst picking a banjo. I joke that we moved our little family so we might be closer to the cousins...for marrying purposes.

Ainsworth Hotsprings

We had visitors from the Big City the other day. We took them to Ainsworth Hot Springs. Chrissy is a legendary domestic engineer, mother of three and wife to one. She and I often share our husbands when one of them is working and we have plans to play. Well, not "share", but use interchangeably as an additional child chaperon. The Hot Springs was one such occasion. Chrissy's hubby stayed behind in Vancouver to work and Mike had the day off. Yay extra hands!

The Big Love Family

Very much occupied with five floating poppets in the pool our little gaggle did not really notice the stares that we were garnering. Then when we did start to reagard many of the patrons eyeballing our ragtag bunch we assumed it was due to too much splashing. We continued to pass our kids back and forth, parent to parent, taking turns bringing groups of mismatched siblings into the cave and basin with no regard for whose child belonged to whom. Then something occurred to me: Big Love - after all Bountiful is just around the corner. I wondered to myself if we were being gawked at because everyone assumed that we were polygamists.

My Beautiful Sister-Wife

K, so Chrissy and I are always being mistaken for sisters and now I was pretty sure we were being mistaken for sister-wives. Fast forward to the restaurant. More open gawking. I made a multiple-wife crack to Mike. A gentleman actually turned around and said, "I thought you were polygamists from Bountiful". I almost died, and so did my sister-wife. Mike just looked like he thought he was especially awesome. Good times.

With Mike away, the dishes piling up and my patience wearing down I sure could go for a sister-wife right now. I would totally get away with it here. I just want to specify that she be the female equivalent of a eunic and live in the carriage house out back.

Cook, Clean, Sleep Repeat...

2010-10-21T08:56:00.000-07:00

I am feeling a little under the weather and am calling in sick. So who do I call? There are no sick days for the 24 hour parent. The kids have music class, then they insist on being fed, despite their decries they REQUIRE a nap and then I have to feed them again. And clean up in between. I need an extra-long weekend.

Wordless Wednesday - Family Portrait

2010-10-20T08:32:00.000-07:00

Times (they are a) Changing

2010-10-19T09:49:00.000-07:00

Having kids has significantly altered the "road trip" for me. Aside from additional snacks and potty breaks I am now packing for three. My husband still packs for one - that hasn't changed at all. He often brings his one tiny, half-filled bag to the top of the stairs at the last minute and sets it next to my open, still being filled, melee of a pack job. Seemingly out of pity for my situation he then asks if I need to put anything into his bag. Ughhhhhhhh. Of course, the children's bags are packed, (BY ME!!!) waiting at the door and have been there since last night.

Thanks to Murphy's Law something gets left behind. More often than not it is my something. My shoes, my bathing suit, my mittens, my makeup, my hose, my snack, my gift certificate et cetera. It seems no matter how many lists I make, or how much attention I pay, my efforts are insufficient to get everything into the vehicle without fail one really important item sits at home awaiting my return. Awesomesauce.

Anyhoo we set off to a wedding this past weekend. Prep was particularly harried because Mike was home for roughly five minutes in between trips to Vancouver and the ~~cesspool~~ hot tub needed to be drained and refilled. This has to happen at above freezing temperatures, so we needed to wait till that happened. We had guess-timated the time for refilling and cleaning, but really underestimated the unbelievable amount of time it would take to drain it. Seriously, it took the better part of an hour.

The wedding ceremony was at 4. We were in the truck by 11:30, which would put us in town by 3:00 and we could check-in to the wonderful Cinnamon Bear Lodge, get dressed, figure out what I left behind, and get to the church on time. Fwhew. Then to the party. At least that's the plan.

As I wrestled Isla into her crinoline, straightened my hair and found my shoes it occurred to me that, possibly for the first time in 5 years everything I had meant to pack made it on the trip! Our picture perfect family rolled up in front of the church (where Mike and I had been married 7 years before!) into rockstar parking. We had 5 minutes to go...wait, why was there still rockstar parking? We pulled the poppets out of the truck. I re-checked the invitation. Right day? Check. Right location? Obvious. Ummm, what the crap was going on?

The church was empty except for one or two women. Seeing our faces they asked where we were going. "A wedding" I answered, then "what time is it?". "5 to 5" came the answer. Wheels began to turn, something familiar began to claw at my brain...then there it was - the time change. NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

How could we forget the time change?! I mean, by the time we were on the road it was already too late we had lost that extra hour, but everytime we drive past the Mountain Standard time change sign my husband is forced to point it out like he has Tourette's. But, for whatever reason, it didn't happen this trip and was so far off the radar I don't even know what to say.

I felt like such a heel. Still do. At least there was still the party, and we were right in time for that!

Technical Difficulties...

2010-10-18T11:16:00.000-07:00

It is Monday and I am feeling overwhelmed and under-researched. We were away all weekend (in the car mostly) and Mike has gone back to Vancouver to work for the next week and a half.

Not usually one to get a case of the Mondays I am finding this day particularly debilitating thus far. I have one baby to the left and one to the right - both are spewing a constant barrage of verbalization at an unreasonable volume, and being especially demanding... about EVERYTHING. I think they need some concentrated attention.

What I am saying is I will be back tomorrow guns blazing and my wits will be functioning at full capacity, so thanks for stopping by and I hope you'll be back in the morning! For now I have an arse to wipe and it is not mine.

Dummy Fairy - Part 2

2010-10-15T10:05:00.000-07:00

The Dummy Fairy that I had been telling you about last week arrived a few days ago. There had been a couple late nights in a row so I actually asked Isla one evening (we had been prepping her all day) if she wanted the Fairy to come that night. Exhausted, she shook her little piggy-tailed head no. Fine. Tomorrow then.

In the morning I spoke with her about how the Dummy Fairy knew she was tired and hadn't come out of respect, however there were babies waiting in need of a new Dummy. Isla decided the time was now - with one condition. She did want the Dummy Fairy to come and bring her her prezzies, however Isla also wanted for the Dummy itself to be left so she could pick the baby who needed it most. I agreed to relay the message, not fully knowing if it was the right decision or not.

The Dummy Fairy arrived around nap time. There was much excitement over the gifts, we read the letter the Fairy left congratulating Isla on her BIG GIRL decision, and showed her where ~~her~~ the baby's dummy was left so she could give it away to whomever she chose.

It was then Isla revealed to me more of what is inside her big sweet heart. She picked a two year old boy here in town (who I was sure did not use a Dummy nor had he ever). I bit my tongue and played along.

Then the wheels began to turn for me. This boy is younger than Isla, and we do refer to him as a "baby". Mostly, "leave him be/let him have the toy/stop bugging him, etc...he is just a baby!". Isla has never seen him with a Dummy, so he obviously is in need of one. There is more. This little boy whom Isla chose is in the tumultuous throes of receiving a new sibling, and moving house, and just being two. Because the Dummy is was her comfort, and now amidst all this upheaval it would be his as well. Her decision was so magnanimous, and gracious, and empathetic I am astounded. Wise in a way I never could have been in that moment, but am willing to learn. I am so proud.

That Itch

2010-10-14T13:27:00.000-07:00

That Itch

Bronze Dibatsu in Kamakura

I have that old familiar itch. So does my husband. It's not what you think, not that 7 year itch, but the kind one gets when you are bitten by the travel bug. Before we were married we had both travelled to places in and around Australia and Europe separately. The places we travelled after we were married you could count on one hand.

Then last year Mike and I stumbled upon a seat sale to Japan - $420 round trip/each + taxes for two weeks. It was an incredible deal - if I had not been on the trip myself, I would have said it was too good to believe! Add to this spectacular price the fact that Mike's brother lives in Tokyo and we had a place to stay I bought the tickets pretty much on the spot.

Our mothers graciously flew from Alberta to Vancouver and lived in our home with our kids for one week each. A huge blessing. Though, I was fairly reluctant to leave Isla. At the time she could have flown for free, but we weren't sure how easy or difficult travelling with a 22month old in Tokyo would have been. In the end it was really nice to spend two weeks of one on one time together, something we hadn't done as a couple in over 5 years!

Matsumoto Castle

Japan was AMAZING! We travelled as far and wide as was possible in two weeks. From Tokyo to the Sea of Japan, Osaka, Kyoto, Hiroshima, Nigata, Endoshima, Hakone and many more. The country and cities are breathtaking at the best of times, but it was fall, and especially beautiful. We saw Mt. Fuji twice in the distance on separate trips, apparently quite a feat. Ironically on the day we went to see the volcano it remained shrouded behind the cloud cover!

Now a year later I am dying to go back. My desire possibly exacerbated by the knowledge that I cannot go right now. I am actively resisting looking up seat sales on Flight Centre's website as my little family is on the cusp of a new adventure, (one I will tell you about later) and I know it will be a while before we can spend our time or our money in such a way again.

Tokyo Tower at Dusk

Wordless Wednesday - Menagerie

2010-10-13T07:45:00.000-07:00

The Stuff(ing) of Legends...

2010-10-08T07:17:00.000-07:00

Trace, this ones for you!

This coming Monday is Canadian Thanksgiving.

A few years ago I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. The rock being my L-O-V-E for the traditional family dressing that has been passed down through the generations. The hard place being my pregnant belly. You see, the preggo are advised NOT to eat stuffing cooked IN a bird. Salmonella or some shite. Anyhoo, the future Godparents of my fabulous daughter were hosting an expat-style Thanksgiving (ironic since most of the expats in attendance have no such thing in their home countries, but the idea is just so darn catchy!!!)

I was in charge of the bird. I knew that my Grandmother's dressing (a recipe I will NOT be giving out) needed to be prepped and cooked outside of the bird (insert dead relatives turning in their graves here). Then, inspired by a video I had seen for a "Man-Style BBQ Chicken" involving the insertion of a tallboy beer can into the cavity of a chicken thereby essentially steaming the bird from the inside whilst cooking, I had a revelation.

The Magnificent Martha Stewart Ladies and Gentleman!

I quartered a heap of apples and stuffed as many as I could into that big ol' organic turkey. The premise was the same (apples steaming the bird from inside) but here is where it differed; when basting draw juice from the apples inside the bird. The sugar from the apples effectively caramelizes the outside of the bird resulting the most beautiful golden brown turkey you have ever seen. And it is SOOOOOO moist. The gravy is both savoury and slightly sweet. Delightful!

Last year I insisted we abandon carving the turkey in the old fashion for a new style. I know, how Victorian of me, right?! About my discoveries: the internet is awfully humbling and I have realized roughly several gagillion-million people also stuff their birds with apples. Even more carve in the "new fashion" so here it is - I am sure your way is great, but this way is better: How to carve a Turkey

K, so since I have had a few glasses of wine I'll give you one last of my Thanksgiving secrets: a dram of Grand Marnier in homemade cranberry sauce is TO DIE FOR!
Happy Thanksgiving everyone :)

To All the Rossland Ladies

2010-10-07T08:52:00.000-07:00

Heather Good - www.heathergoodfineart.com

I have been so inspired by the women that populate this town since I have moved here. They are entrepreneurs, teachers, nurses, mothers, artists, adventurers, and more. Last night a new found friend brought me to Glee Club. Yes. Glee Club. And do you know who was there? Everyone, see above.

Michelle Tanguay

A few weeks ago another wonderful new friend, pictured right *gulp*, took me mountain biking (real mountain biking) for the first time since before I had popped out poppets. And do you know who we saw on the trails hiking, biking and berry picking? Other women. Again, see above.

There is a women's Roller Derby Team (Gnarlie's Angels), Women's Shuttle Night (a van takes/pulls women/bikes to the top of Red Mountain and they bike down) and on select evenings there is wine and chocolate at Mountain Nugget which is owned and operated by one of the towns Womentrepreneurs Trish Dyer whom I featured in last weeks Artist Homage after the ride. The town is home to Stephanie Gauvin who is a a world class artist, and skier...and I am dying to meet her. There is even a town-wide ladies night out on occasion!

www.bettygohard.com

When all is said and done I am stoked to raise my daughter here surrounded by strong, compassionate, artistic, cultured, talented, athletic, self-sufficient women! The candy on the apple is really that the men of Rossland support the women and patronize (the good way!) our business endeavours. I always joke that the boys in town are ruined for life outside Rossland, the girls they were raised with could do anything they could do - and lots of times better :)

Wordless Wednesday - Last Chance

2010-10-06T07:30:00.000-07:00

Before your garden fresh tomatoes are gone...

Dummy Fairy

2010-10-05T09:02:00.000-07:00

Have you heard of the Dummy Fairy? The Dummy Fairy has been to our house once before, she will soon be visiting us once again. I am gonna go ahead and humble myself right now and confess it is not my fabulous idea but that of the Super Nanny. There I said it - but it is one hell of a notion and I have adopted it fully into my parenting arsenal.

When Jack was almost three our house had a visit from the Dummy Fairy. The Fairy came in the middle of the night (just like her cousin the Tooth Fairy will) and took away his dummy to give to a baby who needed it. In place of his beloved she left a rechargeable night light and a puzzle. That was me - I thought something for the night and something for the day would help a little man out.

Isla will be three this fall. The time is fast approaching for our next visit from the Dummy Fairy. Isla is in her "big girl" bed, she is potty trained (day and night), has slept through the night for forever, and she is already sort of weaned from her dummy. I guess it just comes down to her parents.

For all of the reasons listed above, I am the one having a hard time with the Fairy arriving presently. She is growing so fast, in so many ways but, when she is using her dummy she still makes baby noises. Those noises stopped as soon as the Fairy came to Jack. Sigh. Her prezzies are even waiting in the closet. I am going to have to suck it up, I know, I know. I think I'll go for a snuggle.

Homage Monday - Meg Sholdice

2010-10-04T10:37:00.000-07:00

Meg Sholdice. Meg's Youtube channel.
I met Meg in Theatre School and have had the pleasure of sharing the stage with her on several occacsions, but what I really loved was getting a chance to sit back and enjoy her as an audience member. She is just so interesting - and funny. Like Catherine O'Hara funny...and I would be remiss if I failed to mention she is also Marilyn Monroe sexy! What Meg brings to the stage, or into a room which is rare and admiral is the power of her presence. She is very easy to watch.

After graduating from Mount Royal University Meg went south to pursue a 'real' career, "...the story goes like this, I was an actor but I was scared so I became a teacher..." At the University of Lethbridge Meg acquired both a Bachelor of Fine Arts AND a Bachelor of Education in 2005.

Teaching did two things for Meg. First it helped her realize that she didn't want to give up acting entirely. In 2005 she started a improv theatre troupe for a hobby on the side. Then secondly, "...working with children, who have infinite potential, magnified my desire to follow my own dreams, so once again I am an actor."

Meg quit teaching to risk it all as a starving artist, and her courage has paid off. She now bears the prestigious and highly coveted title of "Working Actor". In 08/09 she was even the Artistic Director of Alberta High School of Fine Arts.

Currently Meg is the Box Office Manager and heads the Educational Programming at the Pumphouse Theatre in Calgary, Alberta. She is an Artistic Director, Producer and Actor for Late Late Brakfast Show, and most recently she can be seen in the Shakespeare Company's latest production of the Scottish Play as one of the three witches. I highly recommend you get a ticket!

Honestly?!

2010-10-01T11:17:00.000-07:00

There is nothing more moving than the glaring honesty of a child. It is not filtered, or manicured, manufactured or checked. It is akin to verbal diarrhea. The brain sends an impulse and the mouth lays it out for all to hear.

A few years ago I was in the grocery store with Jack. When we got to the till I confess I let some air escape, from my behind. The store was very busy (read loud) and in my defence I was probably pregnant. Anyhoo, no one heard. Except for an arse high Jack. With his new found language skills he declared, "Mommy fart. Mommy fart." to the cashier/anyone within earshot, over and over with increasing persistence as I attempted to ignore him and get the heck out of there. Awesome.

When one of my children says to another, "you talk funny" or refers to the neighbour as "the grumpy man who lives next door" I am mortified more often than not. Sometimes it is hard to remember they are not judging, but stating what they perceive to be fact, and I receive the comment coloured by my own experience and/or embarrassment. They are not saying these things to be mean. The neighbour next door looks like a grumpy character from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, but also like Santa, so I was able to suggest as much - and as everyone knows Santa is never grumpy. I told them stories about when they mispronounced words because they too were little once and learning. Yet, despite knowing this, it still stings when a two year old makes a comment about my spotty face.

We bring them books, teach them songs, play stacking and sorting games all geared towards differentiation and separation and then we are shocked when they bring their astute observations into the real world. Because you cannot un-ring a bell, and words can hurt, especially when they come out of an innocent face. But we are all different. My children adore being told they are special and unique, so I need to seize the opportunity when they notice that others are different from themselves. To help them acknowledge and appreciate the difference rather than fear and judge. If I wait until they are in the schoolyard it will be too late. Again I am reminded of the steep learning curve that is teaching empathy without loosing individuality.

All this being said, I could have a million dinner guests singing glowing praise for my fare, but it will never mean as much as when Jack starts in about how amazing my cooking is because he is incapable of insincerity. This morning as I was pulling my hair back, Isla announced as if she could no longer contain herself, "Mommy, you are soooooo beautiful!". I have never ben more flattered.

Thursday Throwback

2010-09-30T08:40:00.000-07:00

After meeting some pretty incredible women here in Rossland due entirely to having two wonderful poppets, I thought I would re post this article from June. I wrote it with my heart open, and expectation high, a few weeks before the actual move itself.

Baby Mommas

There are always been those BIG moments in life when one worries about making new friends. For example changing schools or, ahem, moving.

Making new friends is something I have taken for granted in the past. Always being in one form of institution or another, the same people day after day, has its advantages. In retrospect school is sort of a give in the friend-making department. Thrust amongst a thousand peers for years one is bound to find at least one like-minded individual. Extra-curricular activities from K-12 are the proverbial friend-making icing, being a concentrated pool of similarities and shared interest.

After graduating from University and moving out of the city where I grew up I found myself, for the first time, with no real friend generating systems. I had to pursue friend-making. It was hard. There was more baggage. Ugh. But then something miraculous happened. I pushed out a baby!!!

Having children have afforded me that coveted "in". Babies are like an institution in and of themselves. I find spending hours on playgrounds and in playdates fosters discussion and openness with my new peers. Suddenly making friends seemed easy again. We swapped poop stories and labour tales, shared laughter and tears. The walls came down and I have become friends with some incredible women. Women whom I will miss dearly, but are the special kind of friends that no time nor distance seems to pass between.

I am banking on Jack and Isla to get me through the Mommy-door in Rossland! They really are great little icebreakers and the kids are still at that invaluable age when my friends children are their best friends as well. I know this luxury will end one day soon when Jack and Isla begin making their own friends, but by then I should be well imbibed in Rossland mommy-culture!

Wordless Wednesday - Dream House

2010-09-29T08:00:00.000-07:00

8 Minutes

2010-09-28T08:00:00.000-07:00

Saturday morning. The imminent trip to the Pumpkin Patch looms in the near future.

8:00am: Kids have been up for an hour (inherently I have been as well!)

8:30am: Dogs have been fed, watered and relieved.

8:50am: Kids have been fed, watered, dressed and mostly brushed.

8:55am: I duck away to Twitter quickly about the name, location and other pertinent info regarding the day trip we have planned.

9:00am: The ladies we will be carpooling with arrive on our doorstep with wonderfully appreciated punctuality.

9:01am: I can hear my husband offering coffee to our guests as he returns inside from puttering somewhere outside.

9:02am: Michael exclaims, "what is that smell?". I logout and head downstairs.

9:03am: I round the corner into the hallway to discover on my right; my son stripped naked in the washroom, and on my left; that Velma has shat all over the living room rug. Two things are apparent:
1. Clothing hinders ones progress on the pot and 2. Velma still is not feeling well.

Eight minutes. It took a grand total of eight minutes for the household to self-destruct. I hear myself saying, "Remember 10 minutes ago when we were all ready to go?!" I get the sinking feeling our ride-mates are regretting their timeliness.

The wonderful thing about beginning your day on a low note is that there is no where to go but up!

Homage Monday - Trish Dyer

2010-09-27T08:00:00.000-07:00

Trish Dyer - Mountain Nugget Chocolate Company

London Fog

Trish Dyer is a Chocolatier. The sheer declaration that you are a chocolatier is weighty one. Upon hearing this fantastical word my heart quickens and the corners of my mouth turn upward. I must admit I feel a bit like I am in a fairy tale to say I know a real Chocolatier! It is no small feat to harness the magic and potential that chocolate carries within itself - for many cannot. As an artist Trish boasts the uncanny ability to take a good thing and make it better. To take a dark shapeless mass and transform it into an exquisite, whimsical delicacy.

Starry Night

Here in the picturesque Monashee Mountains Trish is inspired to create. She is rooted here and draws from the land where she herself has grown. Among the local organic ingredients she uses are Rossland garlic, Oso Negro Coffee roasted in Nelson, and honey from the Creston valley. Trish is a local artist who actively supports other local industry. She is an avid gardener who is passionate about real-food and a believer in the roles of the baker, the butcher, and the candlestick maker. Her creations are really an extension of her person; lively, exciting, complex, mischievous and fun.
Most recently Les Dames d'Escoffier awarded their prestigious scholarship to Trish in recognition of her work and a fellow blogger and foodie The Well-Tempered Chocolatier sought out the Nugget on a trip to Rossland.
If you happen through our happy little town the shop is a MUST! And if you are unable to make it to Rossland then you are in luck because Trish is making the rounds, peddling her rich morsels at fairs and festivals around BC.
Be sure to Follow the Mountain Nugget on Facebook so you don't miss a thing!

Joe

Mountain Nugget Chocolate Company
2076 Columbia Avenue
Rossland, BC
250.362.3338

Harvest Moon...

2010-09-24T09:49:00.000-07:00

This years Fall Equinox and the Harvest moon happily converged. It really was stunning if you got a chance to see it. I mean, it looked like daylight outside despite the setting of the sun hours before, and it is not going to happen again until 2029.

The leaves here are turning. Bright red, yellow and orange - and I have crocuses blooming in the garden, is that normal?! Anyhoo, it really has put me into an Autumn state of mind. I am presently digging out my fall wreath and tomorrow we are headed to the Spencer Hill Orchard and Gallery in Grand Forks for the Apple Festival to grab some pumpkins and homemade apple juice. Mmm pumpkin patchy apple juice :)

Buying pumpkins now and trying to keep them through the month can be difficult. Last year my friend Jo (who carries the Martha Stewart gene) passed along a super trick, that I am now passing along to you!

Preserving Your Pumpkin:
Fill you kitchen sink (or another deep basin) with cold water.
Add 1 cup of Bleach
Submerge Pumpkin (or other lovely gourd-licious decoration) fully.
Let soak for 1 hour.
Pumpkin can be resoaked closer to carving time to ensure no mildew or mold!

It worked like gangbusters! The pumpkins I had last year lasted so long I was beginning to wonder if they had cured all the way through. I thought, "Great, I won't have to do this again! I'll just store these and reuse them every year!" But when I started decorating for Christmas in the first week of November (I know, I know, but it is a season people!) I put them outside and a squirrel ate them. Oops. Obviously I am starting from scratch this year, but it is too much fun to skip!

On the Road Again...

2010-09-23T12:32:00.000-07:00

For the past ten years my husband and I have shuttled back and forth from the Coast of BC to visit our loved ones in Calgary. From Vancouver, the journey always begins in the wee hours of the morning, travels through several majestic ranges, up and down passes hemmed in by picturesque mountains, then we are finally pushed out into the breathtaking Big Sky Country that is Alberta.

It is a remarkable trip that we have down to an unremarkable science. He drives, we sleep (which is a nice change from "Isla screams"). We drive from full to fumes, sometimes rolling into gas stations just to make the very best time we can. Before kids the trip took around ten hours. After, it could take upwards of twelve. Rossland is smack in the middle, almost a perfect 600km bisector between Vancouver and Calgary. It now, in theory, takes half as long to get to either end.

I always envy my dear friend who stops. She stops in Osoyoos and lets the kids play a round at the mini golf. She stops at parks and she lets the kids out to play, completely disregarding how this effects the "time" she is making from point A to point B. As much as I "know" life is about the journey and not the destination somehow I never was able to make the literal jump! We decided to stop and smell the proverbial roses.

Frank Slide sits at the foot of Turtle Mountain and neither Mike or I had visited the site for the better part of two decades. We left the dogs in the truck and went in with the kids to the lovely new interpretive centre. It was a wonderful digression. We watched documentary films, played with touchable exhibits, read heaps of first hand accounts and relearned about this historic, and preventable tragedy.

90 minutes later we returned to the vehicle ready and eager to get back on the road. Mike opened the door and was met with a terrible stench. Velma had unleashed an epic and entirely preventable tragedy of her own. We had left her out of her kennel. It was all over Isla's car seat and everything surrounding it. Not unlike most trips into the city we were returning at capacity and the kennel needed to be collapsed to fit Santa's booty into the wayback. That was a mistake. The mess only seemed to have hit porous, absorbant surfaces. Ughhh. I think we used an entire box of baby wipes to little or no avail. We lamented the remaining hours in the reek. As it turns out, nothing gets rid of that new car smell like a dog with diarrhea.

Wordless Wednesday - And the Nominee...

2010-09-22T07:46:00.000-07:00

...is me!!!!!

So not really a Wordless Wednesday at all, but instead, after my extended weekend I was thrilled to find the following message in my inbox:

"I just wanted to let you know that ag.gray.gate has been nominated in the Best New Weblog, Best Written, and Life categories of the 2010 Canadian Weblog Awards!"

YAY!!!! Great news, right?! How fun! Thank you soooooooooooooo much!

Who Me?

2010-09-17T08:00:00.000-07:00

I know that there are a million of these that float around in the Blogging sphere, but I must admit it feels pretty darn special when someone passed one along to me. Because, despite there being a gazillion Blog Awards out there, there are even more blogs that they could be given to. So thank you to Jamie at Avant Garde Parenting for gifting me, whom you have never met, based solely on the content here at ag.gray.gate. I am glad I was able to make you smile!

Here are the 5 blogs that I choose to pass this award forward to:

Jessa@ La Belle Vie : This talented designer, surrounding herself with pretty things on her journey into motherhood, bares soul as she her invites you into her home, her hopes and her dreams.

Leah@ Keepin' it Leal : Also an immensely talented designer is dangerously hysterical puts the best face possible on the "women are funny too" campaign that we are unfortunately fighting (I know that you could never post this award on your blog, but I am giving it to you anyway. You more than deserve it!)

Marzena@ Babies and Bruschetta : This brave Momma, for having the courage to move your family half way around the world and share it all with us!

Wendy@ Give Love Create Happiness : Because you inspired me to write this blog in the first place.

The Ladies of 'R' Town@ 'R' Town Stories & Blogs : A communal blog by the wonderful moms living in community. Thanks for your candour. Keep writing ladies!

Please take a minute to stop by one or all of these fabulous blogs - you will not be disappointed!

Now, last but not least, I the final part of winning this award is to answer the question:
If you could go back and change one thing what would it be?

There have been times when I would have been hard pressed to choose just one thing. But I have come to realize the answer is nothing. I would not change a thing. I am my choices. I am my experiences. So yes there is embarrassment, guilt, loss, anger, and (gulp) unforgiveness, but I am still learning. I am the best me I can be. I am the sum of my parts, even the ugly ones - and I am not finished.

Thank you so very much for being here, I appreciate it more than words can say. Have a wonderful weekend.

A Public Shaming...

2010-09-16T08:00:00.000-07:00

About a week ago I was reading a wonderful post on Avant Garde Parenting about unsolicited parenting advice. I was immediately reminded of a terrible, awful, no good very bad experience I had before having even pushed the first baby out. Unsolicited indeed.

When I was pregnant with my firstborn, despite my advancedage of 27 ;), I looked about 18. I was almost two weeks overdue, cranky,uncomfortable and trying to walk that kid out of me. I passed by a patioteeming with peeps. A lady literally stood up, pointed at me, and declared toher audience, "Look at this young one...PREGNANT!"

I was shocked. Hurt. Embarrassed. Although I needn't havebeen any of these. I thought, what if I was 16, husbandless and pregnant? What was a publicshaming going to help? When has a public shaming ever been the catalyst for a heart-warming life-altering experience for either the shamer or the shamee?!!

Well, all decorum flew out the window. My mother, having been in town for 3 weeks awaiting the imminent arrival of this grandchild (who was now without a doubt taking some sort of long distance learning course from the comfort of my uterus because he sure as shooting was NOT COMING OUT!) had to hold meback because I wanted to physically damage this woman.

The rest is just a blur. Though I do know there was no melee. No throw down. To this day I wonder what inspires people to publicly shame others. I don't mean a roast or a well meaning albeit inebriated wedding guest, but a stranger. I don't think I'll ever get it.

Jack eventually did come out by the way, and he was well worth the wait.

Wordless Wednesday - The Wedding

2010-09-15T08:00:00.000-07:00

Falling...

2010-09-14T10:01:00.000-07:00

Apparently I have been living under a rock. It took a trend on Twitter for me to Google a term that I have never heard before - Shana Tova. I must confess I feel a bit of a fool writing this for all to see, I mean how does something like this slip through one's radar? Millions of people celebrate Rosh Hashana wishing one another blessings for the New Year with "Shana Tova". How have I known about Rosh Hashana (which according to Jewish faith, they have only been celebrating since the creation of man!) but not, not ever, Shana Tova. Good grief. Like I said, a rock, a big one I guess.

Anyhoo. The revelation of Shana Tova coincided with my usual Fall reverie. Every fall I wonder why this is not the "new year". If I am honest I have never been exactly thrilled by the festivities of Dec. 31. I am a terrible homebody and I find the traditional New Year night on the town dinner, dancing and drinking overpriced and underwhelming. January 1st looks and feels exactly the same as the day before, except I didn't go to bed early enough to get in a good ski day! But the Fall - I feel differently about the Fall.

Here in Canada, Summer is falling off giving way to a New Season. A great preparation gets under way. Farmers and gardeners make ready the harvest as the earth goes dormant. Fall sounds different. The crunching of leaves beneath my feet. Storm windows go up (I know, I know, but our house was built in 1940 and we haven't put in new windows as of yet :S) there are fall fairs, canning, a new wardrobe, and new routines. I find it difficult not to make resolutions now.

Just as the Spring smells like rebirth, the Fall is scented with expectation. The Summer scatters us to play, and the Fall gathers us together again. The days grow shorter and we, as a family and a community, draw closer once more. We prepare for the season of celebration Winter brings.

L' shana tova everyone.

Homage Monday - Alyson Johnson

2010-09-13T11:27:00.000-07:00

Alyson Johnson - www.alydahl.com

When you see me bombing around town wearing this stunning piece of art around my neck and you ask where I got it, I'll tell you that my friend made it, and this is to whom I am referring.

Aly Johnson has what it takes to make it in the financial world: smarts, grace, and mucho patience for man-babies parading around in business suits. The very skills, as it turns out, that are required to raise her two beautiful mensa-esque children, not that they are man babies, but they do parade around in their birthday suits! Having children changed Aly. Despite her prowess with the man-babies she discovered she would much rather teach her children well. This meant they needed to see her pursuing her dream not chasing her tail. Just like many of us Aly has had a few, "when one door closes, another is opened" moments, however what makes this dear friend exceptional is her Dorothy-like courage to move from monochrome into Technicolor.

But Dorothy was only dreaming and Aly is living her dream out loud. She has taken a hobby of 11 years and for the first time this past year, through her perseverance and strength of spirit, she has made it into her full time job. In fact her burgeoning home-based industry is bursting at the seams and is in the process of branching out, maybe even in to your home!
Aly has been featured in Island Child Magazine, as well as being listed as a designer to watch by Portobello West in Vancouver. If you are lucky enough to find yourself in Victoria you can witness the mouthwatering glamour in person by visiting Brandi Wein for Hair and there is even a coupon (have I mentioned my L-O-V-E of coupons!) in Mamma Mia's Coupon Book

Aly's designs are at once inspired and inspirational, flirtatious and sophisticated, lively and feminine - they are breathtakingly beautiful. Visit www.alydahl.com.

Photography by Ashely Devaney and Alyson Johnson and is not to be used without prior permission

Guest Post - Brandie Weikle

2010-09-09T08:10:00.000-07:00

I am thrilled to present the first guest post on ag.gray.gate! Brandie Weikle was featured earlier this week in the Artist Homage and without further adieu here is her article itself:

The kids are heading back to school this week, and I can’thelp but yearn for some of that same newness that September brings when you’reyoung. Nervous tummies aside, who can forget the sense of possibility that camewith that backpack of empty duo-tangs?

I took each of my boys, Cameron, 7, and little Alister, 3,on separate walks down to the little stationary shop on Bloor this weekend. Mylittle guy is bound for Montessori school and in need of his first pencil case.And my first-born, now a “Grade Two-er,” needed the ritual purchase of newpencils, sharpener and glue stick, almost as much as he needed the reassurancethat he was tall enough for second grade.

I’d love some new school supplies almost as much as a pairof nude platform pumps to complement my fall wardrobe. But while I don’t need anew binder (or, I guess, even the shoes - drat) I can satisfy that yearningwith art supplies. So, I got a few new drawing pencils this weekend.

Because I’ve spent my whole career in journalism, andconsider myself the most beginner of visual artists, it was a surprise when mysister wanted to feature me on her blog’s new weekly artist homage (secretlyI’m thinking she was running out of people) and have me guest post the nextday.

But then I got to thinking that maybe the subject of artdoesn’t have to be that far off my usually parenting beat (I edit two websitesfor the Toronto Star, and write about a blog about parenting). All kids make art andall parents are capable of making art with their children.

When I was a little girl I was apparently quite easy toentertain with paper and crayons. I was forever trying to make snow globes outof jam jars and tiny bits of crumpled-up tin foil. I entered earnest littleportraits of my best friend in the country fair. I painted posters to announcethe rec-room premieres of my most recent plays.

Paintings by two grandparents decorated the walls of myhomes growing up. In addition, we were also cottage neighbours (though we callthem cabins no matter what their size out west) with artist/activist Wallis Kendal

My most vivid memories of his artwork are of the canvassesthat depicted what he saw on his trips to some of the most underdeveloped partsof the world. But artistically he’s now best known for his collaboration withSandra Bromley on the Gun Sculpture http://www.gunsculpture.com/, an anti-violence installationmade of 7,000 decommissioned weapons that has been exhibited around the world,including at the UN headquarters in New York and at the Centennial Exhibitionof the Nobel Peace Prize in Seoul, South Korea.

Wallis would occupy us on rainy days with papier macheprojects, kept up an elaborate fantasy that there were elves in the forestsurrounding the lake who we just missedmeeting because it was bedtime, and let us make banana peel ice cream for a“gross-out” party. (Everyone should have an eccentric artist or two in theirupbringing.)

When I was a teenager Wallis took me to buy my first propercamera, a second-hand Pentax K-1000. Then we tromped around Edmonton’s FringeFestival so I could photograph all the colourful buskers and artists. I feltlike SUCH a serious photo-journalist.

I can’t bring his artistic ability to the table, but I docover mine in newsprint and bring the kids and their friends there to work withpaint brushes, acrylic paints and canvasses that make them feel like real-dealartists.

We have kind of an awesome time.

No matter how big you are, you get to create.

We’re working on a gallery in our basement stairwell.

Doesn’t just looking at these supplies make you want to giveit a go yourself?

I’m quite sure that the kid in you will look at a blankcanvass and appreciate the possibilities.

Not a bad metaphor for life, really.

-Brandie Weikle

Wordless Wednesday - Our First Sick Days

2010-09-08T10:45:00.000-07:00

Homage Monday - Brandie Weikle

2010-09-07T09:03:00.000-07:00

via parentcentral.ca

Today I have the honour of featuring one of my favourite artists, Brandie Weikle. Brandie is an immensely talented and ambitious writer, the fantastic mother of two young boys, helplessly beautiful, a gifted painter, foodie, design guru, and brilliant as all get out. Brandie is also my sister, I simply adore her.

In Brandie's own words,"I am an online and print journalist with specialties in parenting and health. Currently I'm the editor of two of the Toronto Star's specialty websites, parentcentral.ca and healthzone.ca. I decided to be a journalist in about grade 10 or 11, after I started writing for my school newspaper. But the very first thing I ever wanted to be when I was a wee girl was "an artist." In high school I discovered that I didn't have the drawing skills for art or architecture as a profession, but I continued to have an aesthetic yearning for the whole paint and canvass experience. I think it runs in the family. As you know my Grandpa Weikle painted landscapes. So did my mom's mom, Edna, who died before I was born. I started buying canvasses and painting them as what I'd call "decor art" about 10 years ago and then in the last few years, started dabbling in abstract landscape and realism, particularly as I became interested in birds.".

Regarding the yellow bird image: Birds are my current favourite thing to draw and paint. I guess it was my interest in birds that interested me in spending time drawing and painting for the first time since childhood. This image is the other kind of multimedia in my life. The branch the bird sits on is created using cutouts from a magazine. The pieces are from a picture of a long full skirt by Coach. The iconic print is kind of deconstructed here and - if you blur your eyes - it kinda mimics the black and white colour contrast of a birch branch.

I selected the colours of this picture so I can hang it next to this landscape, which is painted from a photo I took on a drive from Calgary to Drumheller, on the way to the dinosaur museum, of course! People go all the way to Provence to photograph the sunflowers against the blue sky, but the same colour combination is available right on the Canadian prairies every summer with fields of canola against all that big sky. It was a windy day, and I liked the way the grasses in the ditch were moving in the foreground.

Later, I got the idea to paint a bird cage with the door open, over two canvasses, to hint at the idea that this might have been someone's domesticated canary gone free.
-Brandie Weike

Brandie lives and works in the Greater Toronto area. You can read her insightful and informative online blog at the Toronto Star.

Labour Day Weekend...

2010-09-06T09:15:00.000-07:00

Happy Labour Day! To celebrate I turned on the heat.

18 degrees never felt so good, but holy hell the 30 year old furnace is LOUD!

Come back tomorrow for Holiday Homage Monday - which means it is being posted on a Tuesday :)

Canadian translation: Honour Labour :)

Learning To Fly

2010-09-03T13:18:00.000-07:00

This morning Jack came out of his room smiling from ear to ear. He had had a dream that he was Astro Boy. I am pretty sure that this was a direct result of his younger sister having declared she is Astro Boy and introducing herself as such. All day, everyday. Which is a change from when she decided a few months back that her name was Missy Pie. When we ask about "Missy Pie" she says that it is still her name but that she is now "Isla AstroBoy MissyPie..." "What about Meat-a-saurus" I ask. When Isla started solids we began to call her Meat-a-saurus at mealtimes because of her affinity for all things flesh. "Meat-a-saurus" she says pointing to her temple, "lives in my brain". I almost peed.

Now Jack is dreaming he is Astro, he hears about him a lot! I wondered if that meant he had dreamt his first flying dream. It hadn't. Too bad, I cannot wait to hear about these. I used to dream so vividly and flying dreams were by far my favourite. I scarcely remember my dreams now, unless they are guilt-filled and at that point I would rather not since I have a hard enough time forgiving myself during the day. Anyhoo.

Jack had another first today though. A wonderful neighbour and friend passed along a bike to us. Now Jack has been riding a Strider for the past 6 months and he was ready to make the move. In less than 10 minutes he was up and riding! No training wheels or anything. His dad and I were pretty much elated! 15 minutes in he has mastered his new ride and tomorrow is his first bike race at the Rubberhead - we are in Rossland after all!

Magnificent Magenta...

2010-09-02T08:00:00.000-07:00

....or Purple Soup as it is known at our house!

Despite the date, it is fall here and this quick and uber nutritious soup is a staple here in my home. So I thought I would share - I never set out to have one of "those" kinds of blogs! I love the naturally vibrant colour of this thick and hearty soup and feel good serving it to the hungry people who live in my house - I made it yesterday much to the delight of my kids who have be requesting this vegan, wheat, and gluten free dish!

Organic Blue Potato

Ingredients:
1 onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 Tbsp ginger minced
2 stalks celery, chopped
1 Tbsp organic olive oil
4 Beets, peeled and quartered
3-4 blue potatoes, (washed and scrubbed, not peeled) halved, substitute with nugget if you can't find blue or are too boring to try ;)
1 litre organic Vegetable broth (or Homemade)
1 can organic chickpeas, drained and rinsed
Pinch of salt and pepper
1 tsp rosemary (reserve sprig for garnish)

Method:
Purple Soup begins the same way most great soups do:

In a large soup pot saute the onion, garlic, celery, and beets in heated oil until onion is opaque.
Add remaining ingredients, cover, and bring to a boil.
Reduce heat and simmer till potatoes and beets are easily pierced with a fork (like you are making mashed pots).
Remove from heat and blend smooth with an immersion blender.

Garnish with croutons and rosemary then serve!

Wordless Wednesday - PlayLand Adventure

2010-09-01T08:29:00.000-07:00

Little House on the Mountain...

2010-08-31T10:01:00.000-07:00

Slippers are definitely in order today. And a hoodie. And maybe some mittens. But, under no circumstances am I going to turn on the furnace.

Today is the last day of August and there is frost on my (over-turned-but-at-least-it-is-still-tied-to-the-tree) composter. Ouch - I forgot to cover my tomatoes. Well, maybe not forgot, but I procrastinated because I could not believe that fall has come so quickly. It literally has fallen on us here in Rossland. I hope that maybe this observation is premature, due to my living in Vancouver for almost 10 years I am prone to complain about the weather as soon as it happens, so maybe I shouldn't worry about covering the tomats tonight because it might warm up again right?! Did I mention the forecast is calling for snow showers on Red Mountain (located slightly up the hill and to the left of our house) tonight?

Ughhhhhhhh, sometimes I wish I was gifted with a disgusting amount of "go get 'um". I didn't dry any of my herbs, nor do I know how, I have no idea when I should be planting bulbs for next year, the garden is still mayhem after the last few windstorms and there is a never ending list of to-do's inside as well. Some of these include: a new furnace, a hood over stove, a new water tank, replacing single pane windows...then there are the wants (like a garage) that I will not even get into!

So I guess I'll take the poppets to the park before I need a sled...I'll be the one in my Uggs complaining about the weather!

Homage Monday - Artists in Training

2010-08-30T09:30:00.000-07:00

Children have an astounding capacity for art. It seems as though the world itself, this huge learning experience, is tangible to them through artistic endeavour. They are like tiny walking musicals. The rules that seem to bind a society into propriety do not apply and as much as children are sticklers for black and white, right and wrong, the idea that being covered in paint (or any media for that matter) from head to toe then breaking into song (and dance) would be abnormal does not occur to them. Yet. Thank goodness.

In this brief moment when we as parents, friends and pundits are training them to live inside the box (to keep them happy and safe) they are blessedly on the fringes, balancing on the threshold of total freedom. Therein lies the rub. Teaching them to follow their bliss, but not into traffic. To nurture their artistic being, while shaping their social responsibility. To instill in them empathy, while maintaining self-worth. To teach a child to give of them self freely, without giving them self away.

My Tiny Moose

2010-08-27T14:15:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago we had a house guest. This guest was not entirely unexpected, but had been somewhat waylaid, so when they finally snuck in unannounced it took me a little by surprise. My husband was out of town for work and so I was forced to host the guest alone. The visit was fiery, tumultuous, and although it seemed like they would never leave, just as stealthily as this guest had come they were gone.

I am a firm believer in the notion that a child never misses a stage, so I have no idea why I thought that my beautiful intelligent daughter would somehow escape the developmental stage known as the terrible two's. Or terrific two's. Whatever the euphemism you choose to use at some point this guest arrives. At two and a half, Mussolini's arrival should not have shocked me, but it did. She was stretching her new found independence and it is reminiscent of a baby bird upon hatching. Fugly. My tiny Moose stomped around shaking her fist, barking orders, screaming, pitching herself, accepting nothing less than complete submission and just being an all around tyrant. The fact that she responded to "Moose" as a nickname is probably what enabled both her and I to survive!

Our house guest.

When Moose was visiting I had an epiphany of sorts. It is often those who are most similar to us that rub us the wrong way. It is easier to see their shortcomings reflected back at us since we know these flaws so intimately. All this I knew (in my head!) but the revelation was this: this knowledge should be giving me a leg up! Isla was going through something. It was new and scary and no more enjoyable for her than it was for me or Jack. If I knew how she felt, what would I have liked the response to be? Easier said than done, but sharing this life with her is my practicum.

Anyhoo, Isla kicked Moose to the curb and a modicum of decorum has returned to our home. Thank goodness.

The Art of Fear

2010-08-26T12:18:00.000-07:00

Ohthe art of fear, it is a delicate balance. Fear is designed to keep one safe.We inherently come with a fear of heights and/or falling. Oprah encourages us to follow our fear,meaning that this primal instinct is ~~king~~ queen when it comes toself preservation.

ButFear can be a wily creature that, when left unfettered, has a tendency to growwild and spread pervasively. Having its root in rational fear is what can make irrational fear especially tricky. I have rationalfears but growing children has exacerbated my penchant for irrational fear. My imagination has taken what was meant to keep me and mine safe and run amuck: how could I possibly get two small children out their carseats and to safety should our truck carreen into an icy river, I no longersleep naked since I don't fancy rescuing the kids and taking them to safety inthe nude, I don't like flying or travelling long distances with both kids orjust me and my husband for fear I would orphan the kids or desert my spouse ifthere were a terrible accident, and I am terrified by the idea of my belovedstoppling off some precipice. Oh, and deep dark bodies of water freak the crapout of me, that one is new.

Knowingthese fears are irrational is half the battle I think (the other half being the art of discerning what is a rational fear or intuition) and I have developedmethods of mitigating them. Sometimes it is as simple as saying to myself,"that is silly, drop it." when we walk across a bridge. I chooseto focus on my joy and not an imaginary loss. Still there are other times, whenthe fear is more nagging and persistent, that I allow myself to move through thefear. I imagine the worst that could happen, and the limits that I have tocontrol it. What is out of my control is out of my control. Acknowledgingthat I have done my part to reduce the likelihood of a tragedy befalling myhousehold before dawn brings a sense of peace. I unplug things, I wear clothesto bed, and I say a prayer. I give away the fear. C'est la vie.

Wordless Wednesday - Toby

2010-08-25T08:55:00.000-07:00

Homage Monday - Jed Burdick

2010-08-23T09:15:00.000-07:00

Jed Burdick:

Filmaker
Owner/Creator of Votary Films
Director
Writer
Storyteller
Father to five enthusiastic boys
Husband to one charming and beautiful wife

Here is an homage that Jed created for his wife of 10 years, whom he adores endlessly. It was so unbelievably romantic I simply could not resist sharing!

10 years from jedidiah burdick on Vimeo.

The first time I had the pleasure of meeting Jed he was one of Michael's best men at our wedding. Years earlier Mike and Jed were drawn together by their similar humours and affinity for film. Jed is one of the nicest people you will ever meet. You are at once disarmed by his humility and charisma, he is all heart. His talent is undeniable. Coupled with passion and perseverance, these are the things that make him an extraordinary filmmaker. Here is the man himself:

The Legend of Oak Swamp - The Craft from Mikel J. Wisler on Vimeo.

In 2007 he invited Michael and myself to join him and his family in Indiana for the making of his inaugural feature length film, here is the fantastic trailer for Silk Trees. It is a film that Jed wrote, directed and edited and we were greatly blessed to be counted as a part of this chapter in his journey. Currently Jed has embarked on a new adventure. His next production is The Legend of Oak Swamp and the Mysteries of Ironwood. It is the first instalment in a trilogy and he has filmed a concept trailer (to give investors a rough idea of his vision and direction) in order to raise funds to finance the making of the film with him at the helm. This innovative grassroots campaign even offers donors a credit in the film itself.

Legend of Oak Swamp Concept Trailer from jedidiah burdick on Vimeo.

The Legend of Oak Swamp - The Story from Mikel J. Wisler on Vimeo.

Jed is quickly assembling an incredibly talented team, and you can be a part of it all too! Join the Facebook Fan Page, spread the word, donate, and become part of "The Legend"!

Freaky Friday

2010-08-20T12:04:00.000-07:00

I spent the entirety of yesterday driving to Vancouver. For whatever reason I was feeling a little car sick. Being carsick as a backseat passenger is something I have never really been able to grow out of, but it usually seems to be abated by sitting in the front seat. Anyway, Thursdays all day ride sent me reeling down memory lane.

I have always had a heightened sense of smell. I am not allergic to anything per se but I am often at the whims of my nose. I must choose my perfume (which I use sparingly and only on occasion) not only based on whether or not I enjoy the fragrance, but whether or not the scent gives me a migraine and makes me violently ill.

When I was pregnant with Jack I had the perma-heaves. It was gross. I was tossing my cookies up to twelve times a day. I constantly craved whatever, but when I had secured the whatever in my chubby pregnant hands, two bites in, I found the whatever wholly unsatisfying and promptly suffered through whatever being ejected from my body. I was miserable. Despite having reservations I resorted to medication. To my dismay/delight the tiny pills simply dulled the constant nausea and did little in the way of preventing chunder, making the decision not to take them easier.

Now some smells were worse than others and even thinking about onions or coffee brought on a bought of the barfs, which lasted well beyond the "normal" 16 week mark. In fact it took months after Jack was born for my onion aversion to ebb. The strangest thing (or so I thought at the time) was that it wasn't just the smell of food that made me ill, but the smell of places. The office where I worked was one such place, which, at the time, made me think this affliction was purely psychosomatic.

Round two: Isla. Second verse, same as the first. SOOOOO sick, but now I have a curious toddler pawing at me as I hang over the commode. Oh, and this time around I manage to break blood vessels around my eyes whenever I retch. We are in a small rented apartment in Indiana while we film a movie and the smell of our living quarters makes me ill. Then a new, unexpected side effect takes hold. This is the actual strangest thing - I develop a visual/aural aversion. Not just to a food commercial, which was old hat, but to jingles. The Elder Beerman ads were the worst. They ran frequently and muting the catchy/annoying tune wasn't enough (due to my aforementioned phonic aversion having intertwined itself with the images of insidious plug) bringing me to my knees.

Fast forward three years to yesterdays motion sickness. I am rarely sick, which is why I probably haven't noticed the kryptonite to my lingering pregnancy super powers. Aside from wider feet and heightened sense of smell and mommy intuition, it would appear that when under the weather I am still affronted by musical compositions. Good to know I guess.

Wordless Wednesday - Muscle Beach

2010-08-18T08:54:00.000-07:00

To Whom It May Concern...

2010-08-17T08:54:00.000-07:00

This blog began as an experiment. I have never been a journal keeper, though I have always had much admiration for those who keep regular thorough account of their lives. My husband maintains the most wonderful travel journals. The last trip Mike and I took together I did make a point of sending the kids a postcard everyday. Almost all of the cards arrived after we returned but it really felt like some sort of accomplishment for me, they catalogued where and when we were and the minutia I surely would have forgotten otherwise. Apparently, for me, being culpable keeps me focused.

Despite my inability to reliably keep a journal, I have always loved to write. My family has imbued me with a legacy of actors, teachers and story tellers. In my youth I wrote prolifically, I have no idea how good it was or not because when I wrote I never kept it. Young and passionate, I wrote very personally, and the thought of someone else reading my stories, plays and poems sent me running script in hand to the bin.

ag.gray.gate is actually my second blog. A few years ago I posted my first and last entry on a blog entitled "The Everygirl". It went a little something like, "Well we'll see how this goes". It didn't. My former Twitter account also mirrored this lack of zest and is now defunct. These two failures hung heavy over me whenever I thought about starting a new blog. A few of my friends had started writing blogs of their own and I wondered if, maybe this time, I could do it too.

A little unexpected and unsolicited encouragement from a family friend set me in the direction. I put the idea of ag.gray.gate (and myself) out there, guns blazing and both feet in, actively telling people that I was writing and risking rejection every time I asked a friend to follow. Amongst fantastic family and friends who follow this blog, I am also blessed with patronage from those whom I have never met. They follow because they support others in this blogging community or better yet simply because ag.gray.gate is an enjoyable read!! Somehow, it never ceases to amaze me that I meet with resistance about reading or following after having known someone for years. It is as though for some it is giving away too much to participate in another's journey toward success. Life lessons I remind myself.

The process of keeping this blog has been full of lessons for me. First: I have really come to love it and 3 months in am taking it quite seriously. Blogging has been a wonderful outlet. When I sit down to write I am disembarking from the mundane while at the same time drawing upon it and focusing in on it in order to find the humour and my gratefulness. I look forward to writing. I keep an idea log in my new moleskin journal just like Hemingway would. I ordered business cards for pete sake! Second: I have slim to no tech prowess so this has been a steep learning curve (despite how relatively easy it has become over the past few years with designers creating forms, tutorials, and free stuff) what with buttons and banners and headers and layering. Third: Albeit not entirely unexpectedly (apparently being a blogger makes me an inherent comment whore) I love hearing what you have to say!

So thank you for all of your love, thank you for your auspcie, and thank you for taking time from your day to escape with me! Until tomorrow...

Homage Monday - Sara Bynoe

2010-08-16T11:15:00.000-07:00

This Monday marks a new feature on ag.gray.gate. It is the start of my weekly homage to the artists I know. These artists appear in no particular order but have touched my life in one way or another, I love and admire these people and the capacity they have to follow their passion.

Sara Bynoe - www.sarabynoe.com:

I first met Sara-without-an-H when we began theatre school together in Calgary. She has a killer smile, beautiful bright eyes, a laugh that makes you feel better about the world and enough talent to knock you right on your ass. Oh, and she has a Master's Degree. She has been featured in news and magazine articles across the country, from BC' s own Tyee to The Globe and Mail (not at all for the same thing) and nominated for a literary award in New York. Sara is truly an ecclectic artist and her passions have served her well. She is an actor, a writer, a painter, a singer, a dancer, a comedian, and a producer.

After graduating from Mount Royal, Sara attended/graduated from the presitgious Studio 58 in Vancouver, then it was off to merry old England and when she came home to Canada she sported an MA in Creative and Life Writing from Goldsmiths, University of London. Yeowzah!!! Those are the broad strokes. In there somewhere she also wrote and performed her own pieces at The Fringe (Vancouver/Victoria), The High Performance Rodeo (Calgary), and had Teen Angst (a collective of contributions from those courageous enough to go digging through the recesses of their painful, terrible teenage repetoire) published, hosting readings both nationally and internationally.

More recently Sara has brought the popular phenomenon known as Dance, Dance, Party, Party to Vancouver.

Currently Sara is hosting "Say Wha?! - Readings of Deliciously Rotten Writing"

From her website:

EVENT INFO

Upcoming shows: Wed Sept 22, Wed Oct 13,

Wed Nov 17 and Wed Dec 15.

Cottage Bistro – 4470 Main Street @ 29 Ave

Cost: $5 minimum suggested $10

FACEBOOK GROUP PAGE HERE

VANCOUVER COURIER ARTICLE HERE

Want to read at Say Wha?! READ THIS

I am sure I am missing a heap, the girl is busy! So there it is my first artist homage; celebrating a woman who has an incredible knack for taking "fun" and turning it into a career!

****If you are an artist and I know you I will most likely be contacting you to ask your permission for a Monday Homage. However if you want to be featured sooner than later or that you have fallen through the cracks email me: aggraygate@gmail.com There is no shame in self promotion!

Olympic Sized Adventure - Part 2

2010-08-09T12:41:00.000-07:00

Olympic Sized Adventure - Part Two: The Adventure becomes Legend.

Where was I? Oh yes, lineup one was winding towards the gate and we were about to head into lineup two for the Coca-Cola Pavilion. It was all downhill from there. As my girlfriend Chrissy and I rolled two strollers and 5 children into the breach once more Jack spilled his hot chocolate into his seat. All of it. Into the seat of a stroller with a cover that cannot be removed because the manufacturers maintain that its surface can be easily cleaned with a brush and a damp cloth, of which I had neither. Awesome. I have yet to remove these stains by the way and it is not for a lack of trying. I digress.

Lineup two heads inside, finally, I thought. But no, we are herded into lineup three. This is when I discover Isla had silently, without affect, filled her seat with her hot chocolate. So now we are in very close quarters with hundreds of people and I am all, "Look on the bright side Alicia, at least you are not claustrophobic! Her back will be to the wall in the picture. I know it looks like she shat her pants but at least it doesn't smell! Think about the picture with the torch, Jack and Isla will tell their children about this day."

It was then one of them darted, I still can't remember who, half disappearing in to the multitudes and it all gets a little blurry. In this tiny room teeming with goodness knows who my MommaBear kicked in and I frantically grabbed for my child and fumbled my camera. This is the camera that Michael and I had gifted each other for our 5th wedding anniversary and this was by no means the first time it had been fumbled, but this was the day that it broke. Moments before I would use our too-expensive-to-replace-right-now camera to take once in a lifetime family heirloom photographs of my precious hot chocolate soaked children with the Olympic Torch. To say that my heart sank would be to downplay my sentiment enormously.

The meandering line pushed forward. Queue-mates proffered words of kindness and condolence, my face having told the tale, my wonderful friend said that she would be more than happy to take pictures of my kids too. Crestfallen I wandered on, into yet another room, then another still. Three hours in this day was feeling old and so was I.

This last room was where the coveted torch was kept. We ushered the kids into the appropriate lane (there were heaps of activities I had neither the energy nor the desire to take the kids to) and felt my heavy heart lift. Coke had provided professional photographers and individualized links to your picture online. Granted it would be flanked in advertising but I was stoked. Until, at the front of the line after HOURS of waiting, Miss Isla decided she was NOT, under any circumstances going to have her picture taken. ARE YOU KIDDING ME??!!!!

Jack had his taken. Then Mommy. Then Isla relinquished begrudgingly, but not without conditions!

I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I just wanted to go home. I changed Isla (who was still in the throes of potty training) into the dry clothes I had brought, searched the grounds for something to sop up the now cold/congealing chocolate mess in the stroller and got ahold of my husband. He wasn't coming. Work was hectic and he wouldn't be able to get downtown before 5, which meant I still had as many hours to kill. Awesome again.

Chrissy graciously offered to stay for lunch and so we squeezed our party of 7 into Subway. Then she (insert pang of jealousy here) took her tired babies home. I needed to get a birthday present so I walked from Gastown into downtown amid throngs of our cities guests all the way down Robson. My children had fallen asleep when I ran into Jack's godfather. I saw his camera and asked where he had been. The Cauldron. Great. I would take the kids when they woke and steal his photos, his would be better anyway! I told him about the adventure our day had been, and yet again in an attempt to be optimistic I spouted, "Well, at least she didn't pee, right?!"

Fast forward to the GAP. Browsing through the racks of clothing I can hear my precious cargo stirring in the stroller. I notice a puddle under Isla's seat. A trifecta of AWESOME!!! I am out of dry clothes so I buy her an uber cute pair of purple skinny jeans on sale. They in no way go with her outfit and I practically have to wrestle them onto her.

It is now 5 o'clock, we sit outside the Gap on Robson, leaning against the window, awaiting Michael's imminent arrival. Isla is digging the tunes. She has a sizing sticker half hanging off her cheek. It looks like a microphone. She dances, like no one is watching, hands on her hips, her recent skullet still shorn close, wearing her new jeans and a terribly mismatched olympic sweater, and begins to scoop at the air. Big grasping scoops as though she is wafting some unnoticed scent towards her torso, then over her face. It was hysterical and very much to the amusement of prolific amounts of tourists passing by. She honestly looked like a tiny crazy person and her innocence washed away the stress of the day.

I wish I could have taken a picture to share with you, but the latter half of this day will have to be passed down through the good old fashioned art of story telling alone.

Olympic Sized Adventure - Part 1

2010-08-05T13:16:00.000-07:00

Both my husband and myself have had the pleasure of living in two Olympic host cities. In 1988 we were elementary school students in Calgary and in 2010 we were lucky enough to be living on the Left Coast when the opportunity came around again.

Like many Vancouverites we contemplated renting out our home to turn a tidy profit and take off somewhere, anywhere, for the duration of the 2010 games. But I caught some sort of procrastination bug and so we stayed. Truth be told we were REALLY excited the closer February got, both for the kids and ourselves!

Despite the ill-timed arrival of the Pineapple Express, the kids and I braved a virtual squall to greet the torch as it ran by. We stood expectantly, brimming with pride and excitement, amid the masses for a moment that, although it came and went in the blink of an eye, has lingered with us. It was then I decided what I would really like was for the kids to have their picture taken with the torch. Yes, I thought, a picture with the torch would be epic.

The Vancouver Organizing Committee held a lottery for Olympic tickets and we were delighted to secure 4 reasonably priced tickets to Women's Hockey. The women slaughtered the other team and our little family had a blast. We were officially swept up in Olympic fever!

My desire to have a photo of my children was only fuelled by the fervour. We picked a day that Michael would head off to work early then meet us downtown (in the heart of Olympic mayhem) by 11am so that I would be able to get back on Skytrain with my enormous stroller. Ridership was up by dizzying proportions during the Olympics, which was great, but commuting with two knee-highs really had become a two man job at this point.

Once Jack, Isla and myself made it to Gastown we met up with some great friends and headed to Starbucks for sustenance. I bought the kids their own reusable mugs, filled with hot chocolate, and we headed into the breach joining the first of 3 hour long lineups by 9am.

Everything was going swimmingly, I could practically see the pictures of my children's smiling faces proudly clutching the torch, but that was all about to change.

To Be Continued...

Wordless Wednesday - Gold Fever Follies

2010-08-04T09:00:00.000-07:00

Gold Fever Follies 2010 Program

CBC

2010-08-03T13:53:00.000-07:00

I have a longstanding love affair with CBC Radio 1. It began innocently enough as a young girl in my grandparents home where it was a constant not-so-white-noise in the background. On hot summer days the sounds from my grandmothers antique 35 watt Motorola radio could be heard drifting out of the kitchen. The wonderful cadence and vocal tones of their hosts and story tellers, every half hour the regular musical cues aloft in the house. The sound of the 10 o'clock count takes me back there everyday. To Jintie's garden and afternoon tea in the seat that was my mother's when she was young.

On road trips with my parents we would listen to Radio 1 as long as we could get a signal. A signal was good, it meant postponing the inevitable Glen and Jeanie duet to Blue Rodeo/Conway Twitty/Johnny Cash/... or the like that I dreaded as a teenager. Life is funny that way. I would give almost anything to sit in that backseat and give an audience once more.

Later, at my husband's family cabin, the summer CBC found me all over again, rekindling the passion. My grandmother had since passed away and the infamous radio had been bequeathed to me. It sat patiently and quietly in my basement room at my parents house. Years passed and I finally brought the 6X12U to Vancouver where it found its new home on my kitchen counter. The radio became my young family's morning ritual with Jack and Isla chiming in excitedly, "he/she said Canada lives here, we live in Canada too!".

Now in Rossland, on the living room side table, my beloved radio sits silent once more. There are no AM signals here nestled between the mountains. Instead I have added an app to the iphone. Streaming FM radio live over the internet ushers in the old tradition of a radio-coloured backdrop in a new way, ensuring our home is filled with story telling and music from across the land.

Return of the Rainy Day

2010-08-02T13:19:00.000-07:00

When I was a girl growing up in Alberta rain was always so romantic. First there was this amazing smell. Then smell of ozone my parents would always say. Giant towers of cumulus clouds would roll in, usually with a breathtaking thunderstorm in tow, and the sky would open up in a spectacular fashion to unload its heavy burden. Then as quickly as the storm came it would be gone. Making Rainy Day plans is a tradition I have cherished since childhood. Saving up ideas for rainy day art and games, staying inside to snuggle up with a snacks and a movie. Bliss.

I travelled to Europe as a teenager and in France I was thrilled to feel truly warm rain for the first time. Later I visited Bali in the rainy season (at 99% humidity being dry was a relative concept) and the sudden rain would fill the streets, careening between raised sidewalks designed to channel the deluge. And despite its coastal perch, Perth Australia reminded me of my Alberta home, hot and dry with spectacular summer storms.

In the fantastically green, fertile and lush city of Vancouver rain is different still. There is, except on the rarest of occasions, a distinct lack of that fantastic rain smell. There is no fanfare to herald the arriving wet. Thick dark clouds crawl across the city lingering for hours, days and at times even weeks. The winter Isla was born I swear it was 6 months before she felt the sun on her face. A lifetime. As much as I adored the Rainy Day ritual from my childhood, implementing it in Vancouver would be a great way to become a fat hermit (instead, Vancouver grinds to a halt to celebrate the snow day!). There were mornings that Jack would wakeup in the looming darkness and wonder out loud at the breakfast table if it were night time already. It would seem that, despite being native Vancouverites, my poppets were never thrilled by the Pineapple Express.

Shortly after landing in Rossland there was a sun shower. A sun shower! It was brief, it smelled fantastic and the sun shone the whole time. Jack just about had a panic attack, "Mommy you told me it didn't rain in Rossland!". "Jack" I said, "I never said it wouldn't rain here, but the rain here is not like Vancouver and it'll be over soon." And like that it was gone. On Friday we had our first rainy day, and even that didn't last the whole day. I told the kids about why rain smells the way it does, just as it was explained to me by my parents, and I am so looking forward to finally passing along the legacy of the Rainy Day.

Wordless Wednesday

2010-07-28T09:00:00.000-07:00

Rossland

Netflix

2010-07-27T11:09:00.000-07:00

My husband and I are movie aficionados - some might say snobs - but we enjoy great films and then discussing them with equally snobby friends! Maybe it is a theatre thing. Stick us in a room with a screen or a stage as actors or audience and we are two immensely happy people!

In this season of our lives though we don't get out to see nearly as many plays or movies as we would like. In fact we have patronized far too many animated movies in the last two years then I would care to recount here! With one exception. The Fantastic Mr. Fox was one of the all time family faves of 2009. With great film snob friends in tow we went to the theatre for Isla's 2nd birthday and I was filled with pride knowing that my two small children enjoyed their first Wes Anderson film as much as I remember enjoying mine.

To remedy this situation in part, for Michael's last birthday I gifted him (and myself!) a mammoth plasma and surround sound system. We LOVE watching movies at home. Put the kids to bed, close the door, turn down the lights, turn up the volume and we are ready for our best viewing experience! In Vancouver I had recently discovered the $2 movie machine at Safeway. I think we are almost caught up on the new releases from the past few years - finally.

There is no such magical movie machine here in Rossland and I am having a hard time reconciling myself to spending $6 to rent. We are falling behind again. My computer lacks the room and I lack the computer prowess to procure movies any other way...until now.

Netflix is coming to Canada. I am so stoked!!!!!

Olde Fashioned (frugal) Girl

2010-07-26T11:49:00.000-07:00

Okay, maybe not frugal enough to make business cards from a cereal box, (however I reserve the right to change my mind!) but I do LOVE a deal.

In Vancouver I subscribed to all sorts of coupon and sample sale mailing lists; Groupon, I Love Sample Sales, Gap Sprize, amongst others. I collect Airmiles like a fiend. Because of my fiendishness, last year when money was tight at Christmas I was able to send out gift certificates for clothing and movies that otherwise we would not have been able to afford. I currently have my eye on a new espresso machine (that would retail for around $1000) since I have well-loved my current machine into a place where it no longer loves me back ;) and that doesn't help anyone make it through the day unscathed!

For all of the ways I thought moving to Rossland would save us money (having an herb garden has definitely saved me some coin) I was still worried that moving to a small town would hamper some of my frugality. My fears have been abated and I have found some great deals already in Rossland. They have a local coupon book filled with great frugal finds, everything from 2 for 1 golf rounds at Redstone to 2 for 1 lattes at the Alpine Grind, and at $20 it encourages buying local while having the potential to save a family hundreds of dollars on things we would be buying anyway.

After employing the uber frugal Menu Plan Monday method, I take my grocery list to our new grocery store, Ferraro Foods. They have a "Moo Card" and for every 10 jugs of milk we get one free. That is some cheap (as in inexpensive) milk, and being Island Farms it's not cheap (as in gross) milk either! Their Ferraro's websavers are great too.

The 11th item free seems to be a theme here in Rossland. At Tails, when we buy 10 bags we get the 11th free, and this makes getting great dog food for our beasts is a little less expensive now too!

Happy Saving!

Wordless Wednesday

2010-07-21T09:00:00.000-07:00

Bear Hair, Done That.

2010-07-20T14:57:00.000-07:00

There has been a bear in our yard almost everyday since I wrote about the bear a few weeks a go. One day I came around the side of the house to turn on the water spigot and there he was, 10 feet from me. I had startled him just as he had startled me and so he lumbered away which was nice given the alternative.

Barb had an open compost pit as many residents here in Rossland do. There seems to be some disagreement between Rosslanders as to what exactly attracts the bears, and other residents choose not to compost at all. I am a composter. I bought an easily turnable barrel style compost before we moved (since I am a beginner) and I have noticed a HUGE difference in the amount of garbage that we as a family put out since integrating it into our way of life. Garbage is collected once a week and recycling every other here in Rossland. When all the coffee grounds, fruit and veg peels, egg shells (rinsed and crushed of course) and such head into the compost it takes this family of four about a week and a half to fill one Safeway bag with garbage.

I digress, back to the bear. This composter frustrates the bear to no end and he resents having no access to what was once an once open pit for his perusal. The "animal proof" composter has been dragged all over our yard, has enormous teeth and muddy claw marks and, two nights ago after vigorously shaking and smashing the barrel the aggravated animal threw it into the street! Later that same morning, again when I was at the water spigot, I heard Jack shouting something. I rounded the corner admonishing him for shouting only to see that he was screaming "Mom, there's a bear!" while standing several feet from one feasting on the cherries from our cherry tree. This bear did not seem perturbed in any way by my loud child, in fact all we ever saw as I ushered the kids into the house was his bear bum.

The Bear Aware campaign has been really informative. The kids have been briefed on what to do when a bear is in the yard (talk, walk, leave the dog and go inside) and I never leave them alone outside. It is too late this year to ensure the trees do not bear (ha ha ha) fruit, next year we'll get rid of their flowers, but we do need to be more vigilant now that said fruit is ripening. After all, a fed bear is a dead bear.

Teevee or not TeeVee (continued)

2010-07-19T12:26:00.000-07:00

This is an anniversary of sorts - we have been in Rossland for one month today. Which has also meant that we have survived one whole month without television. The kids have been doing great, but I must admit I have watched more than my fair share of movies. Exhausted and alone I had been watching a movie almost every night. Which meant I was up too late and the kids are up with the sun, so things weren't getting any better.

My sister Brandie wrote a great article the other day (after reading Life's Too Short To Fold Fitted Sheets: Your Ultimate Guide to Domestic Liberation) about prioritizing kids vs. cleaning. I thought it was awesome and more than well timed as I have been fighting an uphill battle to feed, clean and unpack all by my lonesome. Coupled with the late night movies in a cluttered room I was feeling like I wasn't "doing" all that I could to finish unpacking. But it is hard enough to keep a home clean and tidy when I have been settled in for years let alone when I cannot remember if what I need right now is a box somewhere.

So, instead of doing EVERYTHING and killing myself in the heat of the day, what I have settled for is a neat and orderly living room. One room. If the kids have left toys in said room they are to remove them. Under no circumstances are toys stored here, but Jack and Isla are more than welcome to bring a book (or the Leapster) and read quietly. No food either.

A miraculous a-ha moment! Just myself and my cuppa in the evening, free from encroaching mess, feeling like I am making time for me and more importantly that I deserve it. The simple act helps me dial down the crazy!

The Garden...

2010-07-16T09:00:00.000-07:00

I have a garden. Finally. There is, with exception to the 5 tomato plants and 6 tiny miserable lettuce heads that I purchased, nothing in my garden that I planted myself. Barb planted everything else. As the season progresses it is increasingly clear she was quite the gardener, with a vision and strategy that comes only with practice. This dreamy English style garden is filled with BC wildflowers and succulents planted like a canon, the roses and lavender blooming as the peonies, poppies and Lupines fade. Thank God they are perennial.

Complaining to my mother that all of my inherited plants (of which I haven't the foggiest what most even are making weeding interesting) were wilting away prematurely, Mom informed me that I do indeed need to WATER them. Oh, right. We are not in moisture laden Vancouver anymore, Toto. Thankfully Brian Minter was back on the CBC B.C. Almanac this morning. I listened like I have never listened before gleaning some additional pertinent watering info - plants like to be watered in the early morning and preferably with a soaker hose. Good to know - I'm sure there was more but I don't intend to put the cart before the horse!

not my garden

Jack and Isla love heading out to the garden to pick things for our meals. We pull green onions, cut fresh chives, dill, sage and oregano and they are waiting with bated breath for the tomatoes to be ready. I am just trying not to kill it all.

also not my garden

PImply-faced teenager

2010-07-15T11:20:00.000-07:00

Day 4 of having the kids all to myself here in Rossland. Things have been a bit harried. I don't handle stress well. I tend to wear my emotions on my sleeve. When I was younger I fancied wrangling my wit and intellect and becoming a lawyer. I remember being a blubbering wreck at some point and thinking to myself, "Who am I kidding, breaking down in front of a judge on a regular basis is not a great way to be taken seriously.". Our high school theatre teacher, referencing the difficulty in making a career of acting, spouted "If you can do anything else - do it." I still chose acting. I would rather make an arse of myself on my own terms. I'll probably end up playing a lawyer at some point anyway!

It turns out I have been, despite my telling myself otherwise, very stressed. You could probably have guessed from my incoherent ramblings. Looking in the mirror I look like the pimply- faced teenager from the Simpsons. I also have a raging heat rash on my back to match, a delicious skin condition I had never had the pleasure of experiencing until after I pushed out two kids. Oh, and I got the MasterCard bill today. I will be heading out soon to do some returns.

I guess I'll be focusing my wit and intellect on de-cluttering and cleaning. Easier said than done with two knee-highs wanting to be fed and what-not on top of the mayhem. I know doing it myself goes a long way and costs so little, but I had been seriously considering a one time hiring of Cinderella House Cleaners to at least get the ball rolling. This must be a life lesson of some sort.

Wordless Wednesday

2010-07-14T23:59:00.000-07:00

G. Michael

2010-07-13T16:26:00.000-07:00

Michael has gone back to Vancouver again for two weeks in order to put food on the table. He is a worker that one - a fine combination of Italian workhorse, Scottish determination and Little House on the Prairie work ethic. He makes me proud.

In an earlier post I mentioned that in between dream jobs Mike works as a mover. Aside from owning a business with yours truly, Mike's other dream job is acting and he does it very well. He dons the more prestigious moniker G. Michael Gray and has quite the resume to show for himself.

G. Michael in the Feature 'Silk Trees'

In fact at the beginning of next week he will be adding to said resume as he tucks a Guest Star on 'Psych' under his belt. After a dry spell that felt as though it would never end this is very exciting news. I adore seeing Mr. Gray up there on screen - it never gets old, but then again he has never had to film a roll in the hay!

Baby Jack and his Poppa on 'Supernatural'.

It is awesome that moving here to Rossland has not meant the end of Mike's auditioning and acting for film and television. I guess the only real obstacle to the whole thing is when and how we will be able to watch the shows he is in given that we have successfully avoided resuming our cable tv subscription thus far!

S*#T Faced Grin

2010-07-12T17:01:00.000-07:00

Whoeversaid that girls were easier to potty train than boys simply didn't know whatthey were talking about. Just like anything regarding child rearing, everythingdepends on the individual child. Jack, for example, began potty trainingwhen he was 24 months. By the time he was 25 months he was finished (dayand night). Isla was quite interested in the potty when she was 15 months - Ithought SCORE!!! Nothing really came of that though and we really started trainingat 23 months. It took her until quite recently to stay dry through the nighttoo.

Tandem Potty Time! (Isla 15 months, Jack 2.5 years)

Twoand a half years old is a perfectly reasonable age to be trained by, but I must confessbecause I listened to the sweeping generalizations about girls vs. the potty Ithought she would have been finished earlier. And that was not fair toher. Conversely the same "they" who said a 15 month old Islashould be speaking in 2-3 word sentences would have been fairly shocked whenshe pulled her dummy from her mouth and confidently announced, "Jack, whenwe get out of this car, I'm gonna smash you right in the face.”. Not that wecondone that sort of thing, I'm just saying is all. Kids all have their ownrhythm.

Isla (15 months) Multitasks at Potty Time

Thetiny Bjorn Potty that Isla uses now I had purchased before Jack was even born.He never used it, preferring instead to climb onto the big toilet. Isla is theopposite. The two of them still enjoy pooping tandem though! Until today thatis because the tiny potty has henceforth been banished.

Thismorning I walked into the washroom to find Isla standing beside her full pottyand Velma devouring its contents. I lost it. I told Isla that that was the lasttime she would enjoy her tiny potty since it was now being donated. I cleaned thepoop out of Velma's beard effectively wiping the S@*T faced grin off her puppy face and locked her in her kennel. I am so over everyone else's poop!

Things We Lost In The Move...

2010-07-09T13:49:00.000-07:00

The unpacking has been slowly happening bit by bit. Michael has hung his guitars in just the right spot. We have fashioned an open concept style closet of sorts in the boudoir and the mess is receding. Huzzah!

Lost and Found:

~~one pink croc~~ (found in Daddy's shoe box)
~~DVD/BluRay shelves~~ (found in DVD box)
~~All 35 "Cars" cars~~ (found stuffed into Isla's Kitchenette)
~~Piece for hanging Blackout blind~~ (found on Jack's shelf)
Camera Case with 4 2Gb Memory cards full of Family videos dating back to October 2009

The most important things that we lost in the move were by far and away the Memory cards. Looking back it was unwise to have kept 4 full cards in same the portable case. We now have no video of the kids for almost a whole year. I have cried and prayed and cried some more. It does not get any less painful and I can imagine it feels something akin to loosing priceless family photos in a fire. Michael is still optimistic that the case will reappear, that maybe I didn't loose it at the park but that the knee-highs possibly helped by "packing" it. We have left our name and number in various locations around North Vancouver as well as with the places we donated heaping boxes of household items in Burnaby.

I would have happily bought someone a stack of memory cards (or just given them the money) in exchange for seeing Isla on her 2nd birthday, my kids opening their presents from Santa, visiting their grandparents and Jack skiing down the slopes for the very first time on his own. The thought of someone deleting these invaluable images makes me physically ill. I am crying as I write this and I can't write anymore today.

I Need a Vacation from this Vacation...

2010-07-07T22:29:00.000-07:00

Vacations are just not the same anymore. Seldom do I get a chance to kick back and relish a novel while basking in the sun...or rather from the shade of a large umbrella! Having two toddlers running amok, crazy high on their own vacation enjoyment significantly hinders my own.

In four years Michael and I have never even so much as hired a babysitter. Close friends or family have been called on occasion when we really let go! I am deeply afflicted and suffer terribly from a case of the "You will never be able to take care of my children as well as I can"s.

It might seem incredibly selfish and distrustful, and maybe it is overbearing and overprotective, but it turns out I have good reason. Last summer I indulged myself allowing my 3 year old to play under an other's "watchful" eye. Fully engrossed in my summer reading a strange gurgling sound caught my attention. I turned around to see Jack, his face a terrifying unbreathable inch below the waters surface, his hands helplessly grasping. The one who was watching him went for a dip and he followed. He had thought that he was wearing his life jacket. Since his father and I put it on him religiously, it was like a second skin he already took for granted, he didn't bat an eye as he waded into the deep. We pulled him from the water coughing, crying and scared. I can see it all as clearly as though it were happening now and a year later I am still having nightmares.

So who knows when family vacation is gonna stop feeling like the same laundry different beach?! Meals still need to be made, babies supervised, dishes washed, et cetera et cetera. Right now vacation feels like a bizarre summer time Christmas melee complete with every inch of what one dreads about the yuletide season. Ughhhh. I'd rather stab myself with a fork in the eye.

Swallowed

2010-07-06T21:44:00.000-07:00

In the eaves of our new home are nested a family of Swallows. At first I thought that they were cute, helpful even. This is apparently the year of the mosquito here in Rossland having been so perfectly cold and wet for so long this spring/summer. The Swallows come out in full force dawn and dusk to eat their fill which suits me fine.

Well their eggs must have hatched because these cute little beasties have quickly become vermin. The Swallows dive bomb the kids all day as they play outside around the house and they are pooping on everything. Including the hot tub lid. Which makes me anxious about being pooped on while taking a soak and then trying to figure out which chemicals eradicate bird droppings. Eww.

I began to inquire about how one disposes of a nest. I even fancied the notion I could be the one who evicted the over-stayed house guests, for a brief moment. Then I remembered who I am and blowing a nest full of Swallow-lings off my house with a hose to appease my sense of propriety is not something I could stomach. I resigned myself to a summer of sweeping shit off my deck.

Today I returned to the house and to what appeared to be a tiny swallow massacre. I am not entirely sure what went down, whether the chicks got too heavy or if a gale wind blew but the deck was littered with clumps of mud that were formerly a nest and three tiny featherless bodies laying still. They are so terribly sad looking I can't even bring myself to move them. Poor baby birds. I am so sad but thankful the slaughter was not at my hand.

Canada Day!!

2010-07-05T23:26:00.000-07:00

Our Canada Day was wonderfully uneventful. I am not sure I would have been able to muster the gumption to take my family to yet another mystery meat BBQ and lack luster celebration. The kids love them, but then they go napless and I am forced to feign interest in a host of "earth friendly" activities which usually amount to wasted paper and seedlings, ahem, growing in non-recyclable containers. The only thing different would have been the change in locale. We packed for a week at the Lake instead.

This is not the first Canada Day since my step-father passed away, but I have spent a lot of time thinking about the last few Canada celebrations we spent with him and my mother before he passed. These were different from all the rest.
First of all they are in soft focus, and they take place at the Bar U Ranch in southern Alberta.

Anyhoo - these are some photos from the Canada Day celebrations that meant the most to me in my entire life. 2007 and 2008 (5 months before Glen went home)

2007

2008

Run (in the) Forest, Run!

2010-07-02T09:40:00.000-07:00

I've want to start running again. My running career both began and ended last summer. Before that I always fancied myself a non-runner. I hated it in school, indulging every cramp and stitch to get out of my gym class torture. I have no idea why since I have always considered myself an athlete, enjoying individual sports over team, loving rock climbing, skiing, mountain biking and hiking.

Last year for my 30th birthday my mother gifted me a Boot Camp. It was a wonderful kick start in the right direction. We did sprints and drills. To my surprise I quite enjoyed running. Over the summer I began running 7km each day. I felt better - I looked better. My new found strength lent itself to wonderful wakeboard/surfing sessions and the kids felt lighter too! Then my knee started to hurt. I wasn't stretching nearly enough, or warming up or cooling down so of course I suffered an injury. Apparently I pronate something terrible to top it off. The summer passed away and took with it my running routine.

July is back. I have a pair of new runners calling my name and some extra pounds yearning to get lost in the woods. I should have read about running more, or joined a clinic. Argh. It is go time, the perfect time to get some retrospective so I can get out and stay out.

Who's Your Daddy?

2010-06-30T08:27:00.000-07:00

So today is my last day as a single mom and it could not come a moment too soon. This past week has been pretty uneventful (even with the bear in the yard!) yet thoroughly exhausting. Days and weeks such as these give me a new appreciation for one parent households, and I am not even working outside the home.

Slim to no unpacking happens during the day when it is just me here feeding, watering and walking the knee-highs. Then there are also the dogs. It is 8pm by the time they all are in bed, it takes an hour or so to tidy and then I am too burnt out to figure out the logistics of three wardrobe boxes and no closets to empty them into, so upstairs we are still living out of said boxes. Oh, and my mattress is on the floor since we could not fit the box spring up the stairwell built in 1940, and it is not in a good minimalist/bohemian way either.

It is time for Michael to come home. Jack is shouting, "Daddy" at random men across the street which is surprisingly embarrassing. Then Isla starts, "Is that my Daddy?". Umm, awkward. At the dinner table the other night Velma made a noise in the kitchen. "Is that Daddy?" Jack asks. "No Jack, Daddy isn't coming home for a few days" I answer. "But I hear a crappy sound." He means crackly. He continues "Do you hear it? Crap, crap, crap". The whole situation is heartbreakingly cute, but I am glad it is almost over - and yes I know how blessed I am to be able to say that.