I love my house. I loved it the first moment I walked through the door. Having just seen 28 houses I did not love, the decision to buy came easily. Over the years it has given me many reasons to stay enamored.
Last week I was standing on the bed, opening a small, high window to invite some fresh air. "Let me see out the window," said three-year-old Charlie, and I scooped him up for a look.
Five years into fishing village life I've become a tad indifferent to the sight of the sea. It's nearly always there in the background and except for beach trips, doesn't garner too much of my attention.
It had been too long since I'd looked out this window.
Designed to catch the breeze coming in off the water, it faces straight out to the ocean. We are at the top of one of a pair of hills that contain the town, and we can see the whole of the Academy topping the other. The rise and slope of our hills remind me that we are on top of mountains. They begin deep beneath the sea, part of the northernmost extent of the Appalachian chain.
At this time of year we can see not just Front Harbour, which is visible year-round save for heavy fog days; we can also see Back Harbour through the still-bare trees across the street. The harbours glint two slighly different blues, while the sky makes it a trio.
The odd sailboat drifts by.
All this is fascinating to Charlie, although nothing more so than the neighbor's laundry drying on the line directly below us. I am braced for an interesting discussion one of these days with Herb Zinck about his stripey pyjamas.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Vocab
We invented a couple words this week.
Celeberate: v. ritual verbal abuse at a family celebration
and
Disnusted: adj. caught at the crossroads between Disney and disgusted; a frequent occurence in a house with young children
Celeberate: v. ritual verbal abuse at a family celebration
and
Disnusted: adj. caught at the crossroads between Disney and disgusted; a frequent occurence in a house with young children
Monday, April 21, 2008
A Garden Grows
Well, the scapey bits on the garlic are up now. Their springy greenness reaches across the yard and through my (dirty) office window, pinching my eyeballs with their urgent presence. Charlie and I nibbled on a few the other day--heaven for me, "Bleah! Too 'picy!" for Charlie.
Some seed distributor or other is clever enough to put a picture of a jack-o-lantern on their packets and display them at kid height, so... we put pumpkin seeds in jiffy pots yesterday. And thanks to our incomparable friend Naomi, whose seeds began most of last year's garden, we'll sow a wildflower patch at the end of the driveway this week.
The Honeycrisp apple tree is scheduled to go into the ground for our annual Cinco de Mayo celebration. I have my little eye on some cherry and pear trees, as well. Appleberry Farms has an entire quarter of their gardening section dedicated to fruit trees and rose bushes. It's like the "me" section.
We bought a bag of seed potatoes (purples ones). But then my husband John, whose family has been growing potatoes around these parts for 250 years, outlined the basics of potato growing for me. Which convinced me to say 'nuts to that'! Green Betty don't hoe.
Yet.
Some seed distributor or other is clever enough to put a picture of a jack-o-lantern on their packets and display them at kid height, so... we put pumpkin seeds in jiffy pots yesterday. And thanks to our incomparable friend Naomi, whose seeds began most of last year's garden, we'll sow a wildflower patch at the end of the driveway this week.
The Honeycrisp apple tree is scheduled to go into the ground for our annual Cinco de Mayo celebration. I have my little eye on some cherry and pear trees, as well. Appleberry Farms has an entire quarter of their gardening section dedicated to fruit trees and rose bushes. It's like the "me" section.
We bought a bag of seed potatoes (purples ones). But then my husband John, whose family has been growing potatoes around these parts for 250 years, outlined the basics of potato growing for me. Which convinced me to say 'nuts to that'! Green Betty don't hoe.
Yet.
Friday, April 4, 2008
About That Tobacco...
OK, so Cindy Bablitz wants to know "what gives?" on the tobacco we're growing in the garden this year. It's a good question.
First off, I am not a smoker--although I used to be. A long, long, time ago. Now I'm that super-anti-smoker crazy person who former smokers tend to turn into. Just ask the nurses blocking the sidewalk in front of the hospital down the street from my house with their cloud of cigarettte smoke about the nutso CFA. (CFA = "Comes From Away" in local parlance.)
Dh and I have toyed with the idea of ceremonially smoking tobacco for years, although I always get the former smoker wigguns about it. Our conversations, though, have gotten me pretty curious about the history of tobacco.
The seeds we're growing are tobacco rusticana, which is quite a different strain than what goes into commercial cigarettes. For one thing, the nicotine content is several times higher. It's a mighty powerful plant, used for ritual purposes by all kinds of people for the past 4,000 years.
So, when I saw the seeds listed in the catalogue for $3, I couldn't resist joining the hordes of human history who have grown it. It's supposed to be a nice ornamental, too. I'm curious to watch it grow. I want to smell it, warm and fresh and musky on a summer day. I don't know whether I'll be able to bring myself to smoke any, but at the very least we'll give some to our smoker friend Jim. Jim, our own personal canary in the mineshaft. If he smokes it and is still tweeting... maybe we'll give it a shot.
First off, I am not a smoker--although I used to be. A long, long, time ago. Now I'm that super-anti-smoker crazy person who former smokers tend to turn into. Just ask the nurses blocking the sidewalk in front of the hospital down the street from my house with their cloud of cigarettte smoke about the nutso CFA. (CFA = "Comes From Away" in local parlance.)
Dh and I have toyed with the idea of ceremonially smoking tobacco for years, although I always get the former smoker wigguns about it. Our conversations, though, have gotten me pretty curious about the history of tobacco.
The seeds we're growing are tobacco rusticana, which is quite a different strain than what goes into commercial cigarettes. For one thing, the nicotine content is several times higher. It's a mighty powerful plant, used for ritual purposes by all kinds of people for the past 4,000 years.
So, when I saw the seeds listed in the catalogue for $3, I couldn't resist joining the hordes of human history who have grown it. It's supposed to be a nice ornamental, too. I'm curious to watch it grow. I want to smell it, warm and fresh and musky on a summer day. I don't know whether I'll be able to bring myself to smoke any, but at the very least we'll give some to our smoker friend Jim. Jim, our own personal canary in the mineshaft. If he smokes it and is still tweeting... maybe we'll give it a shot.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Eclectic Easter
To celebrate the holiday we made a great big Monster Cookie (Charlie alternates between saying "Monster Cookie" and "Cookie Monster") in the shape of an egg. All right, it wasn't a chicken's egg per se, but I'm sure it resembles some kind of animal's egg. Maybe a T. Rex.
This is our time of year to get ready for the garden (and damn the snow falling outside my office window as I type!) We let our "winter spinach" die and plan to use the pots to put mignionettes underneath the strawberry print kitchen curtains. They'll be "grabbing distance" from the cereal bowls.
The compost is looking like... compost! If you've followed us since the installation of Darth Vader, you'll understand how thrilled I am by this most ordinary of miracles. I haven't wanted to put our pesticide-laden winter produce compost in the old DV; everything has gone into our regular community compost.
I hate putting food in our bodies that I don't consider good enough for my compost. This summer, I plan to can (as in mason jar). Our food strategy is to cultivate mostly unique and heritage strains of veggies, herbs, and medicinals, while we stock up on basics at the market. We'll can and freeze as much local, organic produce as we can to try and make it through the winter. Many thanks to Cindy Bablitz for inspiring me to take the leap to canning!
So it'll be an eclectic garden. Here's our Easter order from Salt Spring Seeds:
Yellow Mortgage Lifter (tomato)
Russian Rose (tomato)
Gramma Walters (bean)
Triumfo Violetta (bean)
Friggitello Pepper
Georgescu Chocolate Pepper
Italian Sweet Pepper
Sue Senger's Chile Pepper
Nantes Carrot (Daucus carota)
Early Yellow Globe Onion
Parsley Giante d'Italia (Petroselinum crispum)
Greek Oregano (Origanum vulgare)
Horehound Green Pompon (Marrubium vulgare)
1000 Year Old Tobacco (Nicotiana rustica)
Evening Primrose (Oenothera biennis)
Marshmallow (Althea officianalis)
I imagine we'll add to this list as seeds tempt me throughout the spring. Plus we'll grow both varieties of pole beans from last year, our usual raspberries, the five varieties of garlic we put in last fall, and an apple tree--"wood" to celebrate me and John's fifth anniversary. I'm hoping for success with a Honeycrisp. Svenja and I are also planning to grow a flower playhouse for the boys.
And perhaps a butterfly flower garden under the apple tree.
And, er, some old world roses under the living room window.
I sure hope Charlie loves gardening...
This is our time of year to get ready for the garden (and damn the snow falling outside my office window as I type!) We let our "winter spinach" die and plan to use the pots to put mignionettes underneath the strawberry print kitchen curtains. They'll be "grabbing distance" from the cereal bowls.
The compost is looking like... compost! If you've followed us since the installation of Darth Vader, you'll understand how thrilled I am by this most ordinary of miracles. I haven't wanted to put our pesticide-laden winter produce compost in the old DV; everything has gone into our regular community compost.
I hate putting food in our bodies that I don't consider good enough for my compost. This summer, I plan to can (as in mason jar). Our food strategy is to cultivate mostly unique and heritage strains of veggies, herbs, and medicinals, while we stock up on basics at the market. We'll can and freeze as much local, organic produce as we can to try and make it through the winter. Many thanks to Cindy Bablitz for inspiring me to take the leap to canning!
So it'll be an eclectic garden. Here's our Easter order from Salt Spring Seeds:
Yellow Mortgage Lifter (tomato)
Russian Rose (tomato)
Gramma Walters (bean)
Triumfo Violetta (bean)
Friggitello Pepper
Georgescu Chocolate Pepper
Italian Sweet Pepper
Sue Senger's Chile Pepper
Nantes Carrot (Daucus carota)
Early Yellow Globe Onion
Parsley Giante d'Italia (Petroselinum crispum)
Greek Oregano (Origanum vulgare)
Horehound Green Pompon (Marrubium vulgare)
1000 Year Old Tobacco (Nicotiana rustica)
Evening Primrose (Oenothera biennis)
Marshmallow (Althea officianalis)
I imagine we'll add to this list as seeds tempt me throughout the spring. Plus we'll grow both varieties of pole beans from last year, our usual raspberries, the five varieties of garlic we put in last fall, and an apple tree--"wood" to celebrate me and John's fifth anniversary. I'm hoping for success with a Honeycrisp. Svenja and I are also planning to grow a flower playhouse for the boys.
And perhaps a butterfly flower garden under the apple tree.
And, er, some old world roses under the living room window.
I sure hope Charlie loves gardening...
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Propaganda
Here's a taste of what I'm working on now. Big thanks to the editor at grubstreet.
Randal Marlin: he’s an author, a philosopher, a teacher to thousands. An expert in the shady ins and outs of propaganda, he’s been called “Ottawa’s Orwell”. Marlin learned his first lessons about the nature of power—and its abuses-- from the most influential of teachers... his childhood peers. Of course. Didn’t we all?
Marlin’s colourful childhood saw him bounce from DC, to QC, to the UK. After some powerful Quebecois culture shock and a generous helping of what would be labelled “bullying” today, he graduated to yet more culture shock (and more bullying) in the class-centric world of British boarding schools. Orwellian, indeed! He overwhelmingly experienced how power over others can be a slippery slope for anyone, himself included.
As a young man Marlin experimented with exercising his personal power: on the student newspaper at Princeton, where he butted heads with the university administration; with his professors as he tested their tolerance for his late-night poker matches (and subsequent class absences); and as a new homeowner fighting to keep his neighbourhood a welcoming place for families to grow and play.
Now 70, Marlin shares the wisdom of someone who has pushed himself to learn and develop throughout all of his life. He’s not afraid to say when he’s goofed up—he owns up to his share of pain inflicted and opportunities missed. I wouldn’t like him otherwise. In this interview, he allows peeks into his personal make-up along with the basic principles behind his most recent book, Propaganda and the Ethics of Persuasion.
Alternately quoting cartoons and Plato, Marlin shows how the most pernicious falsehood is one that brims with truths told in a deceiving manner. His main thrust, however, is not purely philosophical, or concerned with purely academic matters of “truth” and “falsehood”. Instead, it is the very everyday ways that the media (and other interested parties) stir-fry facts like tofu and present them on a platter to look like, well, whatever they want them to look like--in the hopes that the public will eat them right up and ask for seconds.
Marlin is a big proponent of each person having a unique contribution to make to the world. Clearly, part of his own gift is to discern, to dissemble, to say, “Hey! That’s tofu under there! Didn’t we order steak in the last election?” (No offense to tofu. We love us some delicious stir-fried tofu—we just want to know what it is we’re putting in our mouths!)
From the rugby field to the office of the US “president”, Marlin notes well the ways in which people relate to one another with genuine intention, or complete lack thereof. His faith in humanity is endearing. His work is elucidating. His personal example is powerful.
Randal Marlin: he’s an author, a philosopher, a teacher to thousands. An expert in the shady ins and outs of propaganda, he’s been called “Ottawa’s Orwell”. Marlin learned his first lessons about the nature of power—and its abuses-- from the most influential of teachers... his childhood peers. Of course. Didn’t we all?
Marlin’s colourful childhood saw him bounce from DC, to QC, to the UK. After some powerful Quebecois culture shock and a generous helping of what would be labelled “bullying” today, he graduated to yet more culture shock (and more bullying) in the class-centric world of British boarding schools. Orwellian, indeed! He overwhelmingly experienced how power over others can be a slippery slope for anyone, himself included.
As a young man Marlin experimented with exercising his personal power: on the student newspaper at Princeton, where he butted heads with the university administration; with his professors as he tested their tolerance for his late-night poker matches (and subsequent class absences); and as a new homeowner fighting to keep his neighbourhood a welcoming place for families to grow and play.
Now 70, Marlin shares the wisdom of someone who has pushed himself to learn and develop throughout all of his life. He’s not afraid to say when he’s goofed up—he owns up to his share of pain inflicted and opportunities missed. I wouldn’t like him otherwise. In this interview, he allows peeks into his personal make-up along with the basic principles behind his most recent book, Propaganda and the Ethics of Persuasion.
Alternately quoting cartoons and Plato, Marlin shows how the most pernicious falsehood is one that brims with truths told in a deceiving manner. His main thrust, however, is not purely philosophical, or concerned with purely academic matters of “truth” and “falsehood”. Instead, it is the very everyday ways that the media (and other interested parties) stir-fry facts like tofu and present them on a platter to look like, well, whatever they want them to look like--in the hopes that the public will eat them right up and ask for seconds.
Marlin is a big proponent of each person having a unique contribution to make to the world. Clearly, part of his own gift is to discern, to dissemble, to say, “Hey! That’s tofu under there! Didn’t we order steak in the last election?” (No offense to tofu. We love us some delicious stir-fried tofu—we just want to know what it is we’re putting in our mouths!)
From the rugby field to the office of the US “president”, Marlin notes well the ways in which people relate to one another with genuine intention, or complete lack thereof. His faith in humanity is endearing. His work is elucidating. His personal example is powerful.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Things I Learned in School
1. How to tell a universally believable lie.
2. How to clean my hands really, really well through the fastidious application of Elmer's glue.
3. How to stay awake by writing in backwards script.
4. How to stay awake by self-administering a slow series of pinches.
5. How to sleep sitting up.
6. How to endure being closely surrounded by people I loathe and who loathe me--all day, every day (this may be the most useful skill yet, especially if I ever end up in prison).
7. How to store vast quantities of information in short-term memory without allowing any of it to seep into the permanent files.
8. How to make a sub cry.
9. How to hold in-well, any bodily fluid--for up to 55 minutes at a time.
10. How to wait years upon years without (much) protest for "real life" to begin.
2. How to clean my hands really, really well through the fastidious application of Elmer's glue.
3. How to stay awake by writing in backwards script.
4. How to stay awake by self-administering a slow series of pinches.
5. How to sleep sitting up.
6. How to endure being closely surrounded by people I loathe and who loathe me--all day, every day (this may be the most useful skill yet, especially if I ever end up in prison).
7. How to store vast quantities of information in short-term memory without allowing any of it to seep into the permanent files.
8. How to make a sub cry.
9. How to hold in-well, any bodily fluid--for up to 55 minutes at a time.
10. How to wait years upon years without (much) protest for "real life" to begin.
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