Back in the saddle

We returned from our vacation in Mexico on Saturday night.  We had a great time, with a novel approach (for us): our three families (my two siblings and I plus our children) rented a seven-bedroom villa south of Puerto Vallarta, on a quiet stretch of beach, with a pool and...ahem...staff. 

We were a total of 13 people (plus one in utero).  Each room had it's own full bath so there was lots of privacy.  But being in the villa meant you could eat breakfast in your pyjamas, lunch in your bathing suit, and dinner however you felt!  The kitchen staff made breakfast and dinner and we fended for ourselves for lunch, eating leftovers or making sandwiches.  There was also a fellow who tended to the garden and pool and generally helped out.  The owner lived next door and his twenty-something son was around at the end of each day to make margaritas, serve dinner, and help with translation etc.  

I did very little during the week.  The first three nights were difficult because I got too much sun and had a blistering migraine that started in the evening each day.  I had my headache meds with me but only enough for three nights, so on Day 4 my sister scored me some more in town as they are sold over-the-counter down there.  But I had learned my lesson and tried to stay in the shade, with my hat and sunglasses, and I was fine for the remaining nights.

But I read some excellent books, napped, knit a bit, chatted, swam, and generally vegetated for a week and feel very refreshed.  

Others in the party went on various outings:  snorkeling, hiking, water park, shopping.  The only outing I went on was to mass at the beautiful Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe cathedral in town.  We dropped by a vegetarian buffet (Planeta Vegetariano) after mass and wandered around town a bit, but it was getting hot so I high-tailed it home.

I'll post some pics once I get them transferred/sorted.  It's great to be home (and I say that after doing six loads of laundry.)

 

Back in the saddle

We returned from our vacation in Mexico on Saturday night.  We had a great time, with a novel approach (for us): our three families (my two siblings and I plus our children) rented a seven-bedroom villa south of Puerto Vallarta, on a quiet stretch of beach, with a pool and...ahem...staff. 

We were a total of 13 people (plus one in utero).  Each room had it's own full bath so there was lots of privacy.  But being in the villa meant you could eat breakfast in your pyjamas, lunch in your bathing suit, and dinner however you felt!  The kitchen staff made breakfast and dinner and we fended for ourselves for lunch, eating leftovers or making sandwiches.  There was also a fellow who tended to the garden and pool and generally helped out.  The owner lived next door and his twenty-something son was around at the end of each day to make margaritas, serve dinner, and help with translation etc.  

I did very little during the week.  The first three nights were difficult because I got too much sun and had a blistering migraine that started in the evening each day.  I had my headache meds with me but only enough for three nights, so on Day 4 my sister scored me some more in town as they are sold over-the-counter down there.  But I had learned my lesson and tried to stay in the shade, with my hat and sunglasses, and I was fine for the remaining nights.

But I read some excellent books, napped, knit a bit, chatted, swam, and generally vegetated for a week and feel very refreshed.  

Others in the party went on various outings:  snorkeling, hiking, water park, shopping.  The only outing I went on was to mass at the beautiful Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe cathedral in town.  We dropped by a vegetarian buffet (Planeta Vegetariano) after mass and wandered around town a bit, but it was getting hot so I high-tailed it home.

I'll post some pics once I get them transferred/sorted.  It's great to be home (and I say that after doing six loads of laundry.)

 

Reason #432 to love Lost (and Sawyer) (and Winston Churchill)

We're leaving on vacation, with suitcases full of books and sunscreen (and a little knitting for me).  Lots of stress units today...Z and Mike both have sore throats and couldn't get to see a doctor this morning due to timing issues.  We'll have two docs with us on the trip, so can get assistance if necessary.    

Peace.

Reason #432 to love Lost (and Sawyer) (and Winston Churchill)

We're leaving on vacation, with suitcases full of books and sunscreen (and a little knitting for me).  Lots of stress units today...Z and Mike both have sore throats and couldn't get to see a doctor this morning due to timing issues.  We'll have two docs with us on the trip, so can get assistance if necessary.    

Peace.

Deep question....

Why did I decide three weeks before vacation to grow out my hair? 

Hair management now requires a hair dryer, two different styles of brush, hair spray on top of paste on top of defrizzing cream, bobby pins, and velcro rollers.  And a whole lot of fussing.

How did I get here from defrizz cream, blast with dryer (no brush required), and a finger comb through with paste?  My three minute hair routine (from soaking wet to good-to-go) is a thing of the past.

And it all still looks like....well...someone growing out their hair.  You know. Wings over the ears, flat slides, bangs that are too long to let hang but too short to sweep/pin back.  No middle ground between flat head and puffy head.   Plus, I'm constantly taking my glasses on and off as I style because, well, they get in the way of my efforts to manage the hair winging out the sides.

Gah!

Deep question....

Why did I decide three weeks before vacation to grow out my hair? 

Hair management now requires a hair dryer, two different styles of brush, hair spray on top of paste on top of defrizzing cream, bobby pins, and velcro rollers.  And a whole lot of fussing.

How did I get here from defrizz cream, blast with dryer (no brush required), and a finger comb through with paste?  My three minute hair routine (from soaking wet to good-to-go) is a thing of the past.

And it all still looks like....well...someone growing out their hair.  You know. Wings over the ears, flat slides, bangs that are too long to let hang but too short to sweep/pin back.  No middle ground between flat head and puffy head.   Plus, I'm constantly taking my glasses on and off as I style because, well, they get in the way of my efforts to manage the hair winging out the sides.

Gah!

Who knew? He's Welsh!

Maybe I've been living under a rock or something...

I've been following ABC's Brothers and Sisters since it started, and it's a very interesting drama with a great cast, including Sally Field, Patricia Wettig, Calista Flockhart, and Rob Lowe.  It's been getting pretty tense this season, and so when I noticed that my Tivo had picked up an episode of The View with guests Sally Field and Calista Flockhart, I watched it while folding laundry.

As part of the segment, they did a tour of the B&S set, led by Matthew Rhys who plays brother Kevin Walker.  I had never noticed his (real) name before, and when he started speaking with a Welsh accent, I though he was putting it on.  And then it became apparent that it IS his real voice, and his Kevin Walker accent is put on!  Holy cow! Another Hugh Laurie/Gregory House thing (although he's a Brit, but you get my drift.)

I have a thing for accents.  Z initially won me over with his cute Lebanese-French accent.  And let me tell you, I could listen to Matthew Rhys lecture on particle physics and pay total attention.  Here's a clip from the YouTube, an interview with ABC News, talking about his role on Brothers and Sisters.

Who knew? He's Welsh!

Maybe I've been living under a rock or something...

I've been following ABC's Brothers and Sisters since it started, and it's a very interesting drama with a great cast, including Sally Field, Patricia Wettig, Calista Flockhart, and Rob Lowe.  It's been getting pretty tense this season, and so when I noticed that my Tivo had picked up an episode of The View with guests Sally Field and Calista Flockhart, I watched it while folding laundry.

As part of the segment, they did a tour of the B&S set, led by Matthew Rhys who plays brother Kevin Walker.  I had never noticed his (real) name before, and when he started speaking with a Welsh accent, I though he was putting it on.  And then it became apparent that it IS his real voice, and his Kevin Walker accent is put on!  Holy cow! Another Hugh Laurie/Gregory House thing (although he's a Brit, but you get my drift.)

I have a thing for accents.  Z initially won me over with his cute Lebanese-French accent.  And let me tell you, I could listen to Matthew Rhys lecture on particle physics and pay total attention.  Here's a clip from the YouTube, an interview with ABC News, talking about his role on Brothers and Sisters.

March Break Madness

Tonight, the boys are freed from their blazers and ties and homework for two full weeks.  Alex, in particular, has been working like a dog to keep his grades up and qualify for university scholarships.  He's been accepted at all three places he applied so he's a happy camper.  He's likely headed to Queen's next fall to do Math, like his mum and dad.  He must get the positive vibe that emanates from the two of us, young love in the math department, and all that.  But he's also a big fan of tradition and history, and the place simply exudes that from it's limestone walls.   But right now he's very tired of school and is looking forward to the break.

Tonight he's heading to Berkeley CA to hang with my brother/his uncle/godfather, aunt, and their two and a half charming children for a week.  He gets back next Thursday night, and Friday we all leave for Puerto Vallarta.  My sister, brother, their kids, and the four of us.  We've rented a villa on the beach, with a cook and houseman, a pool, seven bedrooms, right on the beach.  It sounds superluxe, but it's basically what it would have cost us to go to an all-inclusive, without all the March break madness.  And no fighing over lounge chairs around the pool.  Quiet, family-oriented, low-stress.  Six adults, two teens, three school-agers, and two under 4.  Plus one in utero.  (Not mine, in case you're wondering.  Whew!)  Z and my SIL will keep each other company with their booze-less vacation, and the rest of us will be sucking back the Dos Equis and margaritas, on our lounge chairs that did not require saving before breakfast, with our big stacks of library books, knitting, and magazines.  We might wander in to town a couple of times...on Sunday for sure for mass and meals as the "staff" are off.  (Why do I love typing that?)  

But eight days without cooking (me) and no dishes to wash (boys) plus some sun and sand promises to be rejuvenating.

Early results are in!

As soon as the new water service was installed, I rushed to the kitchen sink to check out the new pressure.  It showed no noticeable difference at individual taps/showerheads.  My heart sank at this.  Did we just blow over two grand for nuthin'?  I mean, it made sense to do it if the city is running a big fat pipe across the street to our house.  They were already in the ground, so it was the right time to extend the service to the house.

But this morning it became apparent that the big payoff is when multiple fixtures are working.  I ran the shower this morning, hopped out, flushed the toilet, and hopped back in.  No change in pressure!  Then I did the same thing, but ran the tap at the sink while running the shower.  No change!  Woohoo!

Next step will be to see if two people can take showers at the same time (in two separate bathrooms, I mean).  This could be the end of Michael's plaintiff cries from the boys' shower:  "Whoever is using the water, could you PLEASE STOP!" 

In a house with three full baths, it would be nice to be able to stop coordinating shower times, particularly during the morning rush, or when we have guests in the basement and need to tell them to ask before they have a shower!

Plus it just occurred to me this morning that our expenses quality for the new Canadian home renovation tax credit, so that's a little bonus.

Oh, and our lawn has frozen solid into a gnarly wreck.  Very unsightly.  But they will resod, once sod is available.  And that will only draw attention to the rest of the lawn, which was pretty pathetic to start with.  I actually asked the city contractor if we could pay him extra to sod our whole lawn, but sadly, no.  He contracts for the city and while they can do the plumbing work to extend the service to our home privately, they're not lawn contractors.  I'll see who comes to do the sod and find out if they could do the rest of the lawn.  Unfortunately, we are a corner lot in a neighborhood with a ton of dogs, so it may never look great, unless we fence it all in.

March Break Madness

Tonight, the boys are freed from their blazers and ties and homework for two full weeks.  Alex, in particular, has been working like a dog to keep his grades up and qualify for university scholarships.  He's been accepted at all three places he applied so he's a happy camper.  He's likely headed to Queen's next fall to do Math, like his mum and dad.  He must get the positive vibe that emanates from the two of us, young love in the math department, and all that.  But he's also a big fan of tradition and history, and the place simply exudes that from it's limestone walls.   But right now he's very tired of school and is looking forward to the break.

Tonight he's heading to Berkeley CA to hang with my brother/his uncle/godfather, aunt, and their two and a half charming children for a week.  He gets back next Thursday night, and Friday we all leave for Puerto Vallarta.  My sister, brother, their kids, and the four of us.  We've rented a villa on the beach, with a cook and houseman, a pool, seven bedrooms, right on the beach.  It sounds superluxe, but it's basically what it would have cost us to go to an all-inclusive, without all the March break madness.  And no fighing over lounge chairs around the pool.  Quiet, family-oriented, low-stress.  Six adults, two teens, three school-agers, and two under 4.  Plus one in utero.  (Not mine, in case you're wondering.  Whew!)  Z and my SIL will keep each other company with their booze-less vacation, and the rest of us will be sucking back the Dos Equis and margaritas, on our lounge chairs that did not require saving before breakfast, with our big stacks of library books, knitting, and magazines.  We might wander in to town a couple of times...on Sunday for sure for mass and meals as the "staff" are off.  (Why do I love typing that?)  

But eight days without cooking (me) and no dishes to wash (boys) plus some sun and sand promises to be rejuvenating.

Early results are in!

As soon as the new water service was installed, I rushed to the kitchen sink to check out the new pressure.  It showed no noticeable difference at individual taps/showerheads.  My heart sank at this.  Did we just blow over two grand for nuthin'?  I mean, it made sense to do it if the city is running a big fat pipe across the street to our house.  They were already in the ground, so it was the right time to extend the service to the house.

But this morning it became apparent that the big payoff is when multiple fixtures are working.  I ran the shower this morning, hopped out, flushed the toilet, and hopped back in.  No change in pressure!  Then I did the same thing, but ran the tap at the sink while running the shower.  No change!  Woohoo!

Next step will be to see if two people can take showers at the same time (in two separate bathrooms, I mean).  This could be the end of Michael's plaintiff cries from the boys' shower:  "Whoever is using the water, could you PLEASE STOP!" 

In a house with three full baths, it would be nice to be able to stop coordinating shower times, particularly during the morning rush, or when we have guests in the basement and need to tell them to ask before they have a shower!

Plus it just occurred to me this morning that our expenses quality for the new Canadian home renovation tax credit, so that's a little bonus.

Oh, and our lawn has frozen solid into a gnarly wreck.  Very unsightly.  But they will resod, once sod is available.  And that will only draw attention to the rest of the lawn, which was pretty pathetic to start with.  I actually asked the city contractor if we could pay him extra to sod our whole lawn, but sadly, no.  He contracts for the city and while they can do the plumbing work to extend the service to our home privately, they're not lawn contractors.  I'll see who comes to do the sod and find out if they could do the rest of the lawn.  Unfortunately, we are a corner lot in a neighborhood with a ton of dogs, so it may never look great, unless we fence it all in.

Water water everywhere but not a drop to drink.

Today is the day our water service is getting upgraded.  The crew was here in the dark at 7 am, warming up the excavator.  And they're still here at 1:40 pm, with lots of dirt piles, water running down the street, but none coming into the house yet.

The city has a huge project to increase the diameter of the pipes that come from the city water mains, and we are also paying to have the upgrade continued into our house so that we get the full effect (more water pressure - yay!).  This also takes care of the dirty little secret here in Toronto - lead pipes.  

By 1:00 pm today, this was the scene from my bedroom window.  Note the three large, deep, holes in my lawn. (Well, one is actually in the neighbours bit of lawn next to her driveway.)

The plumber, who came to do the work inside the house, mentioned that the crew was "having a little trouble" getting the line across the street.  And that my water would be off for longer than the half hour that it usually takes when he arrives at the end of the process.  

On top of all this, at around 10 am this morning there was a strong gas smell in the house.  I stepped outside and it was there too.  I spotted an Enbridge truck (gas company) and a bunch of other white vehicles parked in the vicinity.

When I wandered out to talk to the crew, there was much hemming and hawing when I mentioned I smelled gas.  They said something to the effect that "it's all under control now" and so I went back inside.

I'm supposed to be cooking dinner for a friend tonight.  We typically meet for lunch once a month, visiting restaurants in the vicinity of her office, but I hadn't had her over for ages, so a few weeks ago,  I invited her up here after work tonight.  On Monday, I was informed that the water service upgrade would happen today...they are coordinating households that are on the same service (or whatever), so there was not much flexibility on that front.   The plan was to be done with the water stuff by noon at the lastest (so I was told) and then I'd do all my errands, shower, prep and cook.  Because of our nervous dog, I can't really leave the house while the crew needs access.  I need water.  I need cilantro.  I need limes.

I think we will be dining out.  

Water water everywhere but not a drop to drink.

Today is the day our water service is getting upgraded.  The crew was here in the dark at 7 am, warming up the excavator.  And they're still here at 1:40 pm, with lots of dirt piles, water running down the street, but none coming into the house yet.

The city has a huge project to increase the diameter of the pipes that come from the city water mains, and we are also paying to have the upgrade continued into our house so that we get the full effect (more water pressure - yay!).  This also takes care of the dirty little secret here in Toronto - lead pipes.  

By 1:00 pm today, this was the scene from my bedroom window.  Note the three large, deep, holes in my lawn. (Well, one is actually in the neighbours bit of lawn next to her driveway.)

The plumber, who came to do the work inside the house, mentioned that the crew was "having a little trouble" getting the line across the street.  And that my water would be off for longer than the half hour that it usually takes when he arrives at the end of the process.  

On top of all this, at around 10 am this morning there was a strong gas smell in the house.  I stepped outside and it was there too.  I spotted an Enbridge truck (gas company) and a bunch of other white vehicles parked in the vicinity.

When I wandered out to talk to the crew, there was much hemming and hawing when I mentioned I smelled gas.  They said something to the effect that "it's all under control now" and so I went back inside.

I'm supposed to be cooking dinner for a friend tonight.  We typically meet for lunch once a month, visiting restaurants in the vicinity of her office, but I hadn't had her over for ages, so a few weeks ago,  I invited her up here after work tonight.  On Monday, I was informed that the water service upgrade would happen today...they are coordinating households that are on the same service (or whatever), so there was not much flexibility on that front.   The plan was to be done with the water stuff by noon at the lastest (so I was told) and then I'd do all my errands, shower, prep and cook.  Because of our nervous dog, I can't really leave the house while the crew needs access.  I need water.  I need cilantro.  I need limes.

I think we will be dining out.  

In the library bag...

A couple of interesting items are heading back to the library this morning.

The first is Heritage:  A Romantic Look at Early Canadian Furniture, by Scott Symons (Photographs by John de Visser).   Symons died last month and I read a couple of obituaries of this interesting man:  David Warren's sympathetic piece, and the obit in the Globe and Mail by Sandra Martin.  Both pieces sent me to the TPL website to request a copy of some of his writing.

This book is a series of photographs of furniture from Ontario eastward.  The text is marvellous, almost stream-of-consciousness.   Of a chandelier in Chateau Ramezay (Montreal) he begins:

Floating you head-turvy, about five feet up -- multiple antennae.  Rotor.  Deep green and gold.  U.F.O.

An Unidentified Flying Object, this chandelier that is anything but crystal.  Because crystal, with its glittering translucency, has some right to float.  But this chandelier, with its solid mass of carved wood painted such deep green it feels black -- this massive chandelier has no right to float.  But float it does...at once substantial and at the same time lighter than air.  Inexplicable.

And once you accept its presence it has become (again inexplicable) the centre of the room, with all other object suspended from it.  As though it were the sun and the other pieces of furniture in full-bodied orbit around it whorling...

Simply breathtaking writing!

The second quite thrilling book is Perfumes by Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez.  I had read about this somewhere, and popped it onto my hold list at the library, one of hundreds of people interested in getting a copy.   Once again, the writing is terrific.  The authors opine on perfume criticism as an art, different categories of perfumes and the blend of science and art used in their creation, and then get down to the business of classifying and rating perfumes.  Some top ten lists round out the book.

I'm not really a big perfume connaisseur, although I definitely connect certain scents to certain times in my life.  Z is quite opinionated about scent, has a couple of signature ones that he wears regularly, and was pleased to read of the book's high opinions of some of his favourites (Dior's Eau Sauvage made a Top Ten list, Habit Rouge by Guerlain had the highest (5 star) rating, as did Azzaro Pour Homme).  

Here's a example of the entry for Azzaro Pour Homme, written by Luca Turin:

The monotheists among us believe that there is only one proper genre of masculine fragrance, the fougere, and that its apex was reached with the aromatic fougeres of the late 1970s.  Some, I among them, believe that the finest aromatic ever was Azzaro Pour Homme (1978).  You can tell it was a perfume for smart guys:  the slogan "Un parfum pour les hommes qui aiment les femmes qui aiment les hommes" is not for the slow-witted.  I wore it today for the first time in twenty years, and it felt just as it always did:  affable, slightly vulgar, completely unpretentious, and overall just delicious.  This fragrance is so good and historically so important that I have met to date six perfumers who claim to have composed it (Gerard Anthony is officially credited), which puts it in the same league as Giorgio and a few others for multiple attribution.  Azzaro's other fragrances have mostly been disappointments, but all is forgiven.  Just keep making this one. 

One of my faves from my early adulthood was Cacharel's Anais Anais.  Here's a snippet of Mr. Turin's comments on that one:

...The idea was girls in quantity, a sort of harem steam bath spruced up to seventies health-and-safety standards.  Hence the double name, the groups of indistinguishable pretty, pale blondes in the photos, the bathroomy porcelain bottle. Taken together, the image was designed to appeal both to a vaguely dykey camaraderie and to the voyeur instincts of the opposite sex. ... The fragrance was devoid of all attempts at seductive warmth, and was instead bright, slightly chrysanthemum-bitter, squeaky clean, soapy, and utterly memorable....

Well now!

This is a book that I'd like to own, not so much because I'm planning to invest in a lot of scent, or need their "approval" for my choices, but simply because it's so entertaining and informative.

In the library bag...

A couple of interesting items are heading back to the library this morning.

The first is Heritage:  A Romantic Look at Early Canadian Furniture, by Scott Symons (Photographs by John de Visser).   Symons died last month and I read a couple of obituaries of this interesting man:  David Warren's sympathetic piece, and the obit in the Globe and Mail by Sandra Martin.  Both pieces sent me to the TPL website to request a copy of some of his writing.

This book is a series of photographs of furniture from Ontario eastward.  The text is marvellous, almost stream-of-consciousness.   Of a chandelier in Chateau Ramezay (Montreal) he begins:

Floating you head-turvy, about five feet up -- multiple antennae.  Rotor.  Deep green and gold.  U.F.O.

An Unidentified Flying Object, this chandelier that is anything but crystal.  Because crystal, with its glittering translucency, has some right to float.  But this chandelier, with its solid mass of carved wood painted such deep green it feels black -- this massive chandelier has no right to float.  But float it does...at once substantial and at the same time lighter than air.  Inexplicable.

And once you accept its presence it has become (again inexplicable) the centre of the room, with all other object suspended from it.  As though it were the sun and the other pieces of furniture in full-bodied orbit around it whorling...

Simply breathtaking writing!

The second quite thrilling book is Perfumes

 by Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez.  I had read about this somewhere, and popped it onto my hold list at the library, one of hundreds of people interested in getting a copy.   Once again, the writing is terrific.  The authors opine on perfume criticism as an art, different categories of perfumes and the blend of science and art used in their creation, and then get down to the business of classifying and rating perfumes.  Some top ten lists round out the book.

I'm not really a big perfume connaisseur, although I definitely connect certain scents to certain times in my life.  Z is quite opinionated about scent, has a couple of signature ones that he wears regularly, and was pleased to read of the book's high opinions of some of his favourites (Dior's Eau Sauvage made a Top Ten list, Habit Rouge by Guerlain had the highest (5 star) rating, as did Azzaro Pour Homme).  

Here's a example of the entry for Azzaro Pour Homme, written by Luca Turin:

The monotheists among us believe that there is only one proper genre of masculine fragrance, the fougere, and that its apex was reached with the aromatic fougeres of the late 1970s.  Some, I among them, believe that the finest aromatic ever was Azzaro Pour Homme (1978).  You can tell it was a perfume for smart guys:  the slogan "Un parfum pour les hommes qui aiment les femmes qui aiment les hommes" is not for the slow-witted.  I wore it today for the first time in twenty years, and it felt just as it always did:  affable, slightly vulgar, completely unpretentious, and overall just delicious.  This fragrance is so good and historically so important that I have met to date six perfumers who claim to have composed it (Gerard Anthony is officially credited), which puts it in the same league as Giorgio and a few others for multiple attribution.  Azzaro's other fragrances have mostly been disappointments, but all is forgiven.  Just keep making this one. 

One of my faves from my early adulthood was Cacharel's Anais Anais.  Here's a snippet of Mr. Turin's comments on that one:

...The idea was girls in quantity, a sort of harem steam bath spruced up to seventies health-and-safety standards.  Hence the double name, the groups of indistinguishable pretty, pale blondes in the photos, the bathroomy porcelain bottle. Taken together, the image was designed to appeal both to a vaguely dykey camaraderie and to the voyeur instincts of the opposite sex. ... The fragrance was devoid of all attempts at seductive warmth, and was instead bright, slightly chrysanthemum-bitter, squeaky clean, soapy, and utterly memorable....

Well now!

This is a book that I'd like to own, not so much because I'm planning to invest in a lot of scent, or need their "approval" for my choices, but simply because it's so entertaining and informative.

The Search: Brett McCracken

Wandered over to The Search from Vox Nova to read Are You a Christian Hipster?  Funny and intriguing.  

Kept reading.  

Love his eclectic list of 100 Greatest Worship Songs of All Time. 

Thoughtful post on Ash Wednesday.

Lots of interesting stuff there.  Must read more.

The Search: Brett McCracken

Wandered over to The Search from Vox Nova to read Are You a Christian Hipster?  Funny and intriguing.  

Kept reading.  

Love his eclectic list of 100 Greatest Worship Songs of All Time. 

Thoughtful post on Ash Wednesday.

Lots of interesting stuff there.  Must read more.

First impressions

We have decided to move Michael from the private Catholic school he is currently attending for a number of reasons that could be summarized as "not a good fit."  (Alex is graduating from that school this year and it has served his needs very well, but it's not been so great for Michael.)  Today, I dropped by the high school that he will (likely) be attending next year to pick up a registration package.

A couple of observations.  The school is aged.  But it has a cozy feel to its decrepitude.  Much like my elementary school back in the 60s.  High ceilings, huge windows and doors, multiple layers of paint on the woodwork, and clutter everywhere.  But I can deal.

A sign on each door that I tried before I found one that was unlocked said something like "Welcome to --school--.  Please visit the main office first."   There was nothing that said "Main Office" so I stopped by the Principal's office, and a harried woman looked up at me.  No greeting. That "whaddya want" look on her face.  I stated that I needed to visit the Guidance department, and did I need to sign in?  Nope.  Wandered down the hall to Guidance.

The guidance secretary greets me without making eye contact.  I state what I need, she asks for my tax bill and drivers license.  Takes a phone call.  Chats with an adult female who walks into the office.  Then stands up and walks out with my documents without saying anything to me.  Unsure if I was supposed to follow her, I wander out into the hallway.  She is talking with someone else.  I wait outside the office.  She returns, having photocopied my documents, and proceeds to log onto the school board website to check my address and confirm that we are within the school boundaries.  Prints off "proof" and staples it to my documents.  She asks my sons name, misspells his surname (even though she has the documents in front of her), and then asks what school he's coming from.  I state the name of the school and she says "What's going on over there at St. -name-'s?  We have a lot of students transferring from there. "  I reply that it's a great school, that my older son is graduating from there this year, but it's not a great fit for my younger son.  She says "A lot of people are finding that."  I note, "It could be the economic climate as well...".  D'oh.  Then she says "We're going to be busting at the seams in the fall.  Don't be surprised if the classes have 35 students in them.  Who knows, they could even shut us down."

Simply bizarre.

She hands me a sheaf of forms to fill out, including a course selection sheet that needs to be signed by someone at his current school.  It all needs to be back at the school next Monday (that is, in five days).  For September enrollment.

The school is a Toronto landmark.  Great history, excellent test scores, engaged parents, lots of AP classes and Latin (which Michael wants to take, thank you homeschooling.)   I guess I've been spoiled by my time spent in the South with fawning teachers and staff (in both public and private schools) and in the boys' current private school.  Or maybe I just caught everyone on a bad day.

First impressions

We have decided to move Michael from the private Catholic school he is currently attending for a number of reasons that could be summarized as "not a good fit."  (Alex is graduating from that school this year and it has served his needs very well, but it's not been so great for Michael.)  Today, I dropped by the high school that he will (likely) be attending next year to pick up a registration package.

A couple of observations.  The school is aged.  But it has a cozy feel to its decrepitude.  Much like my elementary school back in the 60s.  High ceilings, huge windows and doors, multiple layers of paint on the woodwork, and clutter everywhere.  But I can deal.

A sign on each door that I tried before I found one that was unlocked said something like "Welcome to --school--.  Please visit the main office first."   There was nothing that said "Main Office" so I stopped by the Principal's office, and a harried woman looked up at me.  No greeting. That "whaddya want" look on her face.  I stated that I needed to visit the Guidance department, and did I need to sign in?  Nope.  Wandered down the hall to Guidance.

The guidance secretary greets me without making eye contact.  I state what I need, she asks for my tax bill and drivers license.  Takes a phone call.  Chats with an adult female who walks into the office.  Then stands up and walks out with my documents without saying anything to me.  Unsure if I was supposed to follow her, I wander out into the hallway.  She is talking with someone else.  I wait outside the office.  She returns, having photocopied my documents, and proceeds to log onto the school board website to check my address and confirm that we are within the school boundaries.  Prints off "proof" and staples it to my documents.  She asks my sons name, misspells his surname (even though she has the documents in front of her), and then asks what school he's coming from.  I state the name of the school and she says "What's going on over there at St. -name-'s?  We have a lot of students transferring from there. "  I reply that it's a great school, that my older son is graduating from there this year, but it's not a great fit for my younger son.  She says "A lot of people are finding that."  I note, "It could be the economic climate as well...".  D'oh.  Then she says "We're going to be busting at the seams in the fall.  Don't be surprised if the classes have 35 students in them.  Who knows, they could even shut us down."

Simply bizarre.

She hands me a sheaf of forms to fill out, including a course selection sheet that needs to be signed by someone at his current school.  It all needs to be back at the school next Monday (that is, in five days).  For September enrollment.

The school is a Toronto landmark.  Great history, excellent test scores, engaged parents, lots of AP classes and Latin (which Michael wants to take, thank you homeschooling.)   I guess I've been spoiled by my time spent in the South with fawning teachers and staff (in both public and private schools) and in the boys' current private school.  Or maybe I just caught everyone on a bad day.

Reading:  Just finished Blackouts by Craig Boyko and The School Of Essential Ingredients by Erica Bauermeister.  The first is terrific collection of short-stories, very astute, some rather dark.  The second was a light set of interrelated stories, or maybe a novel, set around a cooking school.  Each chapter gives the back story for one of the students (or couples).  It was moderately moving at times, but not hugely engaging.  Am now reading Country Girls Trilogy by Edna O'Brien.  I picked this up after listening to an interview with O'Brien on the BBC World Book Club podcast. 

Listening:  I've been catching up on a few Vinyl Cafe podcasts, the Two Edge Talk series on education, BBC Thinking Allowed, and the last few episodes of King Leary on CBC's Between the Covers.  

Watching:  The two hour episode of Brothers and Sisters last night.  Sheesh!  What a roller coaster.  Wild Roses is also moving along.  Saw the season finale of (spoiler link) Top Chef  and, well, felt so sad for the person who was essentially out before the food was even plated.  

Cooking:  Nothing much new in the kitchen these days.  Tried this Southwestern Flank Steak in the crock pot to raves.  Very piquante, and great leftovers.

Knitting: I needed to darn a navy wool sweater belonging to Z...it had a hole right on the chest so I needed a good colour match.  I ended up buying a ball of sock yarn, so once I used the 10" of wool required to darn the hole, I decided to start a pair of matching socks using this pattern.  Unfortunately, it's using more wool than I thought, so I will need to buy another ball, which will require a drive all the way out to Michael's in Mississauga (if I want to try to get the same dye lot on this inexpensive brand of wool.)

Menu Plan Monday

I have a migraine today, although it has been tempered by my current best friend, Maxalt, consumed at 4 am this morning.  I don't currently have head pain, but the muscle tension and brain fluff are still there, and I feel queasy.   Given my knowledge of headache patterns, I'm in for a less than productive week.  Menu planning has been a chore this morning and I have gone for easy food prep this week.  The laundry baskets are overflowing and the boys are whining about the lack of school shirts.  I've gotta get SOME things done.

Monday:  Shrimp tikka masala (thank you President's Choice), rice (make extra for tomorrow's meal)

Tuesday:  Beans and rice with fresh pico de gallo and guacamole.

Wednesday:  Steehead trout, mashed potatoes, green beans

Thursday:  Pan fried chicken fillets, oven-baked fries, salad

Friday:  Homemade pizza and salad

Saturday:  Chicken spaghetti casserole to take to my aunt's 80th birthday party

Sunday:  Someone take me out or cook for me, please!

Untitled

Reading:  Just finished Blackouts

 by Craig Boyko and The School Of Essential Ingredients

 by Erica Bauermeister.  The first is terrific collection of short-stories, very astute, some rather dark.  The second was a light set of interrelated stories, or maybe a novel, set around a cooking school.  Each chapter gives the back story for one of the students (or couples).  It was moderately moving at times, but not hugely engaging.  Am now reading Country Girls Trilogy

 by Edna O'Brien.  I picked this up after listening to an interview with O'Brien on the BBC World Book Club podcast. 

Listening:  I've been catching up on a few Vinyl Cafe podcasts, the Two Edge Talk series on education, BBC Thinking Allowed, and the last few episodes of King Leary on CBC's Between the Covers.  

Watching:  The two hour episode of Brothers and Sisters last night.  Sheesh!  What a roller coaster.  Wild Roses is also moving along.  Saw the season finale of (spoiler link) Top Chef  and, well, felt so sad for the person who was essentially out before the food was even plated.  

Cooking:  Nothing much new in the kitchen these days.  Tried this Southwestern Flank Steak in the crock pot to raves.  Very piquante, and great leftovers.

Knitting: I needed to darn a navy wool sweater belonging to Z...it had a hole right on the chest so I needed a good colour match.  I ended up buying a ball of sock yarn, so once I used the 10" of wool required to darn the hole, I decided to start a pair of matching socks using this pattern.  Unfortunately, it's using more wool than I thought, so I will need to buy another ball, which will require a drive all the way out to Michael's in Mississauga (if I want to try to get the same dye lot on this inexpensive brand of wool.)

Sunday Choral Report

First Sunday of Lent

Processional: Lord, Who Throughout These Forty Days (CBW 367)
Offertory:  Lass Dich Nur Nichts Nicht Dauren (Let Not Your Heart Be Troubled) Brahms (pdf)

Communion:  Ave Verum (Elgar) (pdf)

Recessional:  Lift High the Cross (CBW 435)

In rehearsal:

Audivi, Media Nocte (Tallis)

	The Saint Dominic Choir - Audivi media nocte (Thomas Tallis)
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

Ave Maria (N. Dett)

How Lovely is they Dwelling Place (Brahms) (pdf - choir parts only)

Menu Plan Monday

I have a migraine today, although it has been tempered by my current best friend, Maxalt, consumed at 4 am this morning.  I don't currently have head pain, but the muscle tension and brain fluff are still there, and I feel queasy.   Given my knowledge of headache patterns, I'm in for a less than productive week.  Menu planning has been a chore this morning and I have gone for easy food prep this week.  The laundry baskets are overflowing and the boys are whining about the lack of school shirts.  I've gotta get SOME things done.

Monday:  Shrimp tikka masala (thank you President's Choice), rice (make extra for tomorrow's meal)

Tuesday:  Beans and rice with fresh pico de gallo and guacamole.

Wednesday:  Steehead trout, mashed potatoes, green beans

Thursday:  Pan fried chicken fillets, oven-baked fries, salad

Friday:  Homemade pizza and salad

Saturday:  Chicken spaghetti casserole to take to my aunt's 80th birthday party

Sunday:  Someone take me out or cook for me, please!

Sunday Choral Report

First Sunday of Lent

Processional: Lord, Who Throughout These Forty Days (CBW 367)
Offertory:  Lass Dich Nur Nichts Nicht Dauren (Let Not Your Heart Be Troubled) Brahms (pdf)

Communion:  Ave Verum (Elgar) (pdf)

Recessional:  Lift High the Cross (CBW 435)

In rehearsal:

Audivi, Media Nocte (Tallis)

	The Saint Dominic Choir - Audivi media nocte (Thomas Tallis)
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

Ave Maria (N. Dett)

How Lovely is they Dwelling Place (Brahms) (pdf - choir parts only)