Something to make you smile…
Something to make you laugh… Baby trashes bar in La Palma
It’s Friday
March 4, 2011 – 7:00 am
Reading
March 3, 2011 – 7:00 am
Last week was a week off from University, normally called a reading week. I have a very light load this semester, and so did reading that had nothing to do with my courses. I picked up My Life in Paris by Julia Child and defended its choice as Life List material (read 100 biographies). It was a fun read! Here are some of my favorite quotes.
I made sure not to apologize for it. This was a rule of mine.
I don’t believe in twisting yourself into knots of excuses and explanations over the food you make. When one’s hostesse starts in with self-deprecations as “Oh, I don’t know how to cook…,” or “Poor little me…,” or “This may taste awful…,” it is so dreadful to have to reassure her that everything is delicious and fine, whether it is or not. Besides, such admissions only draw attention to one’s shortcomings (or self-perceived shortcomings), and make the other person think, “Yes, you’re right, this really is an awful meal!” Maybe the cat has fallen into the stew, or the lettuce has frozen, or the cake has collapsed – eh bien, tant pis!
Usually one’s cooking is better than one thinks it is. And if the food is truly vile, as my ersatz eggs Florentine surely were, then the cook must simply grit her teeth and bear it with a smile – and learn from her mistakes.
Jasmina, this one made me think of you!
…we looked at each other and repeated a favorite phrase from our diplomatic days: “Remember, ‘No one’s more important than people!’” In other words, friendship is the most important thing – not career or housework, or one’s fatigue – and it needs to be tended and nurtured.
The book ended with a characteristic flourish:
This is my invariable advice to people: Learn how to cook – try new recipes, learn from your mistakes, be fearless, and above all have fun!
Cooking inspiration at its best! Have a delicious day!
Closet space
March 2, 2011 – 7:00 am
We have this closet at the end of the hall, and its always bugged me. I dreamed that someday I’d find a pretty antique dresser to replace the closet and top it with a painting and a vase. Twice, Marie-Hélène pinched her finger in the doors… doors which never worked all that well. They creaked so loud they would wake Marie-Hélène, and were strictly off limits as soon as she was in bed. Naturally, things never quite stayed in order, no matter how well we followed Martha Stewart’s folding techniques.
Then, a few weeks ago, on a typical night out with Christian (involving Starbuck’s and book browsing at Chapter’s) I skimmed through Lotta Jansdotter’s book and it inspired me to work with the shelves we had. Marie-Hélène and I teamed up and hit the stores for pretty baskets. At almost two, she’s becoming an independent little shopper. She’d rather not sit in the cart, she wants to walk, thank-you-very-much. She finds the stuffed toys and surprises ladies when they look for the squeaks, to find a thirty inch blondie making her way through the forest of legs and carts.
We came home and set up the closet as an experiment. I hauled the door out to the garage and tried to have it blend in to the wall, in order to surprise him. Unlike John who would need to run into something to notice it, Christian picks up the little details and put two and two together before he stepped in the door.
We both love it, and Christian now scolds me for not having thought of this years ago. I added some finishing touches, then we stood in the hallway and stared at it far too long! (I’m sorry, I can’t stand putting vertical pictures on the blog… To see the progression click on the links and check the notes on Flickr!)
Papa takes a picture of his sweeties
March 1, 2011 – 7:00 am
Marie-Hélène caught a cold and now sneezes everywhere. She likes taking her bottle in the living room, in the middle of all the action, and occasionally she wants Mama beside her. I cherish the request.
Sunday evening
February 28, 2011 – 7:00 am
It’s Sunday evening and Christian and I are wrapped up in blankets catching the Academy Awards. We’re freezing because the windows were open most of the afternoon downstairs, as I was “frosting” glass for our new entryway light. John comes and goes and eventually appears without his beard and it looks like he just hit puberty. Then we lose track of how many dresses the co-hostess is at.
There is a memorial of Hollywood characters, then there is this quote on the screen, and among all the superficiality, Christian and I read it, and declare that it is indeed a lovely quote!
It’s not the load that breaks you down,
it’s the way you carry it.
Lorna Hooper
Have a lovely week!
Dressing up
February 25, 2011 – 7:00 am
Being the girly-girl our daughter is, she loves piling elastics on to her wrists as bracelets. Lately, inspired by one of her books, she’s asked us to put her sandals on. The she walks around rather awkwardly, since she is used to soft soles.
She’ll also empty her bottom dresser drawer and pull clothes over her head. Here, she is wearing two skirts and two dresses, as well as a sweater and necklaces (on TOP of her normal clothes!).
This is some of her button collection.
And here we are playing with legos.
Happy weekend to everyone!
Snowsculptures
February 24, 2011 – 4:16 pm
At Fort Gibraltar, the heart of the Festival du Voyageur, there are the most impressive snow sculptures.
If cold weather is good for one thing, it is snow sculptures.
My Dad has always loved cement, and I bet I’m one of the few women at Festival who recognized the logo, and knew that this is a cement truck, and not some kind of cab hauling a boulder.
It was so cold, the dragon had no fire.
And, if I were tall enough to reach up and lift the mask off that knight, I’m sure I’d find Christian’s likeness.
A near accident
February 23, 2011 – 7:00 am
We were driving to do our shopping for the week on Saturday, Marie-Hélène was in the backseat and Christian sighed. “What?” I asked. “I still can’t believe that guy stopped to talk to you.” he answered. I laughed. “I knew it was coming. I was wrong and I figured I deserved it! Why, what would you have done?” Christian puts a finger up to the windshield. “That’s what accidents are! Everyone has moments of inattention!”
Last week, on Wednesday, I was driving down Saint Mary’s to drop Marie-Hélène off at Grandmama’s and Grandpapa’s for my History of Winnipeg class… (A course that makes John smirk derisively, because as far as he’s concerned, Canadian history isn’t worth learning.) Winnipeg was going through a false spring, much like novels have anti-climaxes. At a balmy 4 degrees above zero, the roads were beautiful and the cars were all dirty. I’d just made it through the construction zone, where four lanes of traffic are reduced to two, and I was tired of following this huge white SUV. The SUV slowed since the car in front of it was turning, and needed all two lanes to do so. I wasn’t particularly rushed, but decided to change lanes before the SUV came to a complete stop. I did a quick shoulder check and started turning to get into the other lane, when a black car with huge red lights squeezed by. We didn’t hit, and I braked hard, because that huge white SUV was still stopped in front of me. The car turned, the SUV continued, I changed lanes and followed the black car I nearly dented. It slowed down, and stopped, right there on the road. So I stopped too.
I was thinking a million things, like, are we allowed to stop like this on the road? Does he think I hit him? I don’t recall any noise. Do I need to give him information? Yup, it was definitely my fault… Geez, Jacinta, normally you’re a pretty good driver. And perhaps foremost on my mind was gratitude to everything good and holy that had prevented an actual accident.
The door on the black sedan opens, and a black-haired Grandpa with a Lafarge coat over his purple and grey sweater comes charging at me. I turn off the music, and roll down my window. My body is drained of feeling.
“Jimminey Cricket*, do you fudging realize you nearly fudging hit my car?”
“Yes.” I softly answer. No excuse comes to mind. All are quite pointless.
“I was just in a fudging accident last week and I had to pay 500 dollars deductible, after l had to fight my case with MPI. That car is a rental!”
“I’m sorry.” His sweater is no longer in style. It has leather V’s sewn down the front. He’s still angry.
“Look, I’m sorry for yelling at you. You probably had other things on your mind.” He glances into the back seat.
I wonder what Marie-Hélène is thinking. She’s quiet. She’d been upset most of the morning… crying and yelling. Apparently I’d had no right to take something out of her reach after telling her three times that I didn’t want her to touch it. I began to think that the terrible twos were precociously upon us, and that her feisty character was going to make the next period live up to its name.
“I still feel all this adrenaline.” Grandpa remarks, and I take off my sunglasses because I figure it was impolite to keep them on. “Be careful! You could have hit me, and an accident wouldn’t have been good for me and it wouldn’t have been good for you. Do your shoulder checks and watch that blind spot!” Grandpa is suddenly paternalistic, and now, I feel like crying.
“Yes, yes.” I answer softly.
“Okay. Please, please, be careful… Drive safely…” And finally, Grandpa leaves. He gets back into his car and drives on.
I follow, until he turns. I drive slowly, and that feeling comes back, and tears streak down my cheeks and gather at my chin. My child yells at me, and now this guy. I don’t want to appear at Grandmama and Grandpapa’s all red, so Marie-Hélène and I stop in at CRÉE (a french toy and resource library) to drop off toys and play a few minutes. The tears stop and I force myself to count my blessings. I drop Marie-Hélène off and only tell Christian of my near accident that evening.
“You shouldn’t have stopped!” he tells me. “You never know how crazy the person might be!”
“I didn’t want to be in another accident trying to pass him!” I say… I also think that we don’t live in Texas, but keep that to myself.
So, my dears, do you think I am crazy?
*All swears modified for my mom! (Cheers!)
Festival
February 22, 2011 – 7:00 am
John and Chantal are both working at Festival this year. My job with Travel Manitoba has given me the opportunity to have a media pass, and so I took a few hours yesterday to shoot a few hundred pictures around Fort Gibraltar. (The post will be up on Thursday.)
In the vendor’s tent, I passed this sweater and couldn’t help but think that it would suit Marie-Hélène’s taste.
