"The mascot's 14th birthday party and the fabulous zebra cake that I baked in his honour."
~ OR ~
"The mascot's 14th birthday party and the cake fail of which we shall never speak."
Really, it could go either way.
Stay tuned!
September 30, 2011
September 13, 2011
Winnipeg Tweed Ride 2011
The Tweed Ride, despite its old-timey appearance, is a fairly new phenomenon. Started as the “Tweed Run” in jolly old England (London, to be exact) in 2009, Tweed Rides around the world have been quickly gaining in popularity.
While not as large as the London event, which numbers in the hundreds, the Winnipeg ride had itself a very good showing this past weekend. Approximately 40 riders of all ages and degrees of tweediness gathered at Assiniboine Park shortly before 2 pm this past Sunday to admire each other’s finery before setting off, en masse, for downtown.
For the occasion, I wore a fetching sleeveless brown knit dress (vintage), a jaunty beret (new), brown, black and gold diamond-patterned scarf (vintage), lady-like yellow gloves (vintage), argyle socks (new) and sensible brown oxfords (new). I had a cute little brown and camel houndstooth jacket with me, as well, but it stayed in my bike basket for the entire day, due to the unseasonably warm temps.
Photo: Leif Norman
The ride itself was quite leisurely and lots of fun. As this year’s ride was part of the “Cyclovia/Manyfest” celebrations, we had a marked route and, with the exception of one stretch of Wellington Crescent close to the park gates, we were free to amble along, waving and shouting such pithy statements as “Hip-hop cheerio!” “Jolly good show, Gov’ner!” and “F*ck prohibition!” (The latter of which I was later informed was historically inaccurate, to which I replied “F*ck accuracy!”)
Once we arrived downtown, we posed for a group shot on the steps of the Legislative Building, and then made our way to Danalvert for croquet and an impromptu picnic.
Plans for next year are already starting to brew, and include an earlier start time and a possible kick-off tea. I, for one, will be spending the next 12 months planning my outfit and searching for a suitable flask. For non-alcoholic refreshment, of course.
There are plenty of great photos of the Winnipeg Tweed Ride on Leif Norman’s site, as well as on the official WTR Facebook page.
While not as large as the London event, which numbers in the hundreds, the Winnipeg ride had itself a very good showing this past weekend. Approximately 40 riders of all ages and degrees of tweediness gathered at Assiniboine Park shortly before 2 pm this past Sunday to admire each other’s finery before setting off, en masse, for downtown.
For the occasion, I wore a fetching sleeveless brown knit dress (vintage), a jaunty beret (new), brown, black and gold diamond-patterned scarf (vintage), lady-like yellow gloves (vintage), argyle socks (new) and sensible brown oxfords (new). I had a cute little brown and camel houndstooth jacket with me, as well, but it stayed in my bike basket for the entire day, due to the unseasonably warm temps.
The ride itself was quite leisurely and lots of fun. As this year’s ride was part of the “Cyclovia/Manyfest” celebrations, we had a marked route and, with the exception of one stretch of Wellington Crescent close to the park gates, we were free to amble along, waving and shouting such pithy statements as “Hip-hop cheerio!” “Jolly good show, Gov’ner!” and “F*ck prohibition!” (The latter of which I was later informed was historically inaccurate, to which I replied “F*ck accuracy!”)
Once we arrived downtown, we posed for a group shot on the steps of the Legislative Building, and then made our way to Danalvert for croquet and an impromptu picnic.
Plans for next year are already starting to brew, and include an earlier start time and a possible kick-off tea. I, for one, will be spending the next 12 months planning my outfit and searching for a suitable flask. For non-alcoholic refreshment, of course.
There are plenty of great photos of the Winnipeg Tweed Ride on Leif Norman’s site, as well as on the official WTR Facebook page.
September 1, 2011
Toddlers, Tiaras and Tantrums
The mascot and I have a new little ritual. A couple of nights each week, we eat dinner on the couch and watch some of the ridiculous programming on TLC. It’s all pretty bad, but we’ve narrowed it down to a couple that we can stomach: Toddlers & Tiaras and Outrageous Kid Parties.
Toddlers and Tiaras is entertaining, but a little (ok, a lot) disturbing. I can’t believe the things that these parents do to their children, all in the interest of winning a giant, gaudy trophy and an oversized, gaudy crown. (Ironically, there are no “tiaras” to be won on Toddlers & Tiaras…just big, ugly headpieces that vaguely resemble a bejeweled version of Toronto’s city hall.)
The problems that I have with T&T are many, but it isn’t enough to get me to stop watching. Yet. Until that happens, I will continue to watch, holler at the ridiculous behavior of the parents, roll my eyes at the outfits and the “talent”, and congratulate myself for having the good sense not to get my own child involved in such a spectacle. For the most part, it’s harmless…in the same way that pet snakes are harmless.
Last night was the first time that I have had to walk out during one of our “tv dinners”, though. We were into our second episode of the evening of Outrageous Kid Parties and I simply could not take another second. The first episode had been about a woman who threw an all-out, Egyptian-themed backyard extravaganza for her 5 year old daughter. Besides the tens of thousands spent on décor, food and (ahem) entertainment, her gift to her mini Cleopatra was a necklace and earring set that cost the equivalent of what I would spend on 6 weeks of summer camp for my own child. But, if you wanna piss your own (or, your husband’s) money away on one afternoon of DJs, belly dancers, tarot card readers and a giant sandbox, then who am I to judge?
The second episode, however, really got me riled up. The woman, a single parent of a 10 year old boy, wanted to throw her son a Hawaiian-themed party, complete with a $5000 cake. Top prepare for the shin-dig, they took hula lessons (which he hated), spent an hour or so getting pwned by a surf-simulator (which he never fully grasped), went for detoxification treatments (what?) …and that’s where they lost me.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t the money being thrown around, even though they spent almost half a year’s grocery budget on CAKE. No, it was the fact that during all of these “fun” activities, the kid kept saying over and over “I don’t want this.” “I don’t need this.” “I am uncomfortable being the center of attention.” “I am shy.” But the mother didn’t hear a word of it. She just kept pushing and pushing and more, more, more. So, out of respect for the kid’s wishes, I bailed. I switched off, hugged my kid and did the dinner dishes.
It was, after all, the maid’s night off.
August 31, 2011
August 30, 2011
Spunky!
I know it's probably a good thing to be described as "full of spunk", but it always kinda grosses me out to hear it.
August 24, 2011
J’ai trente-huit ans.
I believe that with every birthday, we should all take a mo’ and list all of the significant things that have happened to us (or within us) since the last birthday. If we’re not learning, growing and gaining some wisdom from our experiences, then, really, why are we bothering?
In my 38th year:
I became stronger – physically, emotionally and mentally.
I missed my dad an awful lot.
I still cry from time-to-time (like right now), but I think I’ve done a pretty good job of holding it together. Or, maybe I haven’t really started dealing with his loss. I think this will require further exploration, but in the meantime, I will keep watching for Blue Jays.
I found a job that I love.
I spend my days surrounded by people that are kind and creative and clever, and every Monday morning, I can’t wait to see them all again. Well, most of them.
I climbed a mountain.
I took a trip to Vancouver in July to surprise the mascot and figured that since I was there and had an afternoon to kill, I might as well do the Grouse Grind. To make sure that I didn’t throw in the towel halfway up, I sent the Mascot and my mother up in the tram and told them I’d meet them at the top. An hour and change later, I popped out at the top of the trail and had something to cross off my bucket list.
I loved, almost lost, and loved some more.
I had the privilege of spending another year with the mascot, who suddenly became this confident, articulate, witty, TALL kid right before my eyes. I am so proud of him (and I can’t help but take a tiny bit of credit for his coolness. I mean, someone has to, right?)
I did a 30-day photo challenge that definitely lived up to its name. Sunsets on demand? Yeah, right.
I watched the election AND the Oscars in their entirety for the first time in my life. I may have things confused, but I think James Franco is our new Prime Minister.
I had my hair cut twice and my nails done once.
I definitely need to up the princess-factor next year.
I came to terms with turning 39.
Almost.
In my 38th year:
I became stronger – physically, emotionally and mentally.
I missed my dad an awful lot.
I still cry from time-to-time (like right now), but I think I’ve done a pretty good job of holding it together. Or, maybe I haven’t really started dealing with his loss. I think this will require further exploration, but in the meantime, I will keep watching for Blue Jays.
I found a job that I love.
I spend my days surrounded by people that are kind and creative and clever, and every Monday morning, I can’t wait to see them all again. Well, most of them.
I climbed a mountain.
I took a trip to Vancouver in July to surprise the mascot and figured that since I was there and had an afternoon to kill, I might as well do the Grouse Grind. To make sure that I didn’t throw in the towel halfway up, I sent the Mascot and my mother up in the tram and told them I’d meet them at the top. An hour and change later, I popped out at the top of the trail and had something to cross off my bucket list.
I loved, almost lost, and loved some more.
I had the privilege of spending another year with the mascot, who suddenly became this confident, articulate, witty, TALL kid right before my eyes. I am so proud of him (and I can’t help but take a tiny bit of credit for his coolness. I mean, someone has to, right?)
I did a 30-day photo challenge that definitely lived up to its name. Sunsets on demand? Yeah, right.
I watched the election AND the Oscars in their entirety for the first time in my life. I may have things confused, but I think James Franco is our new Prime Minister.
I had my hair cut twice and my nails done once.
I definitely need to up the princess-factor next year.
I came to terms with turning 39.
Almost.
August 23, 2011
Waters at the Walker
I have always wanted to visit the Walker Art Center and, as luck would have it, our first night in Minneapolis also turned out to be a “free Thursday”. It wasn’t until after we had decided to go, however, that I discovered that John Waters’ “Absentee Landlord” was showing at the Centre.
In a word: Squee!!
I am a huge fan of Waters' films, so getting a chance to see a show that he curated was a huge treat. I had big expectations, and the show exceeded every one. There was everything from pop-art to video art to full-room installations to Waters’ own motion-activated squirting-flower picture (Hardy-Har, 2006). It was fascinating, funny, irreverent and surprising. Just like John Waters himself.
We stayed at Walker for about 2 hours which was *just* enough time to see pretty much everything. If we had more time, though, I would’ve lingered longer at the amazing Baby Marx exhibit and wandered through the entire sculpture garden (home of the "Spoonbridge", above). As it was, I had to limit my time gazing at the Mark Rothko painting and was forced to make some very quick decisions in the gift shop (which explains how I ended up with a bag of "John Waters approved" plastic cockroaches). Oh, well…I suppose that gives us all the more reason to return.
In a word: Squee!!
I am a huge fan of Waters' films, so getting a chance to see a show that he curated was a huge treat. I had big expectations, and the show exceeded every one. There was everything from pop-art to video art to full-room installations to Waters’ own motion-activated squirting-flower picture (Hardy-Har, 2006). It was fascinating, funny, irreverent and surprising. Just like John Waters himself.
We stayed at Walker for about 2 hours which was *just* enough time to see pretty much everything. If we had more time, though, I would’ve lingered longer at the amazing Baby Marx exhibit and wandered through the entire sculpture garden (home of the "Spoonbridge", above). As it was, I had to limit my time gazing at the Mark Rothko painting and was forced to make some very quick decisions in the gift shop (which explains how I ended up with a bag of "John Waters approved" plastic cockroaches). Oh, well…I suppose that gives us all the more reason to return.
August 12, 2011
Poppies!
I have always loved poppies, but the poppies grown by my fella's father are extra-special. Just ask this little guy:
Every time I have visited R's family farm in Saskatchewan, I am greeted by a riot of brilliantly coloured poppies in the garden behind the house. There are hundreds and hundreds of them in seemingly perpetual motion; even the slightest breeze seems to make them flutter and sway.
Legend has it that the current crop are descendants of poppies that were grown at R's childhood home in Winnipeg. When his parents moved out to the farm, they brought the seeds with them and scattered them in the garden. Every year since, the "Millikin Road Poppies" have bloomed and flourished in their adopted home.
The real magic to me, though, lies in their nonchalance. Once they have finished blooming, and just the stems and seed-pods remain, they are unceremoniously mown down and forgotten about. That is, until the following spring when they return to bask in the hot prairie sunshine and dance in the wind.
Every time I have visited R's family farm in Saskatchewan, I am greeted by a riot of brilliantly coloured poppies in the garden behind the house. There are hundreds and hundreds of them in seemingly perpetual motion; even the slightest breeze seems to make them flutter and sway.
Legend has it that the current crop are descendants of poppies that were grown at R's childhood home in Winnipeg. When his parents moved out to the farm, they brought the seeds with them and scattered them in the garden. Every year since, the "Millikin Road Poppies" have bloomed and flourished in their adopted home.
The real magic to me, though, lies in their nonchalance. Once they have finished blooming, and just the stems and seed-pods remain, they are unceremoniously mown down and forgotten about. That is, until the following spring when they return to bask in the hot prairie sunshine and dance in the wind.
August 10, 2011
August 8, 2011
Welcome to The Dollhouse
One of the things that I look forward to most every summer is visiting my fella's parents' farm in Saskatchewan and getting there via sleepy ol' Highway 2. The scenery is pretty typical for the prairies - wide open spaces, big sky and the occasional roadside attraction.
My favourite attraction (besides the Souris Subway) is the life-sized "dollhouse" which sits just off the highway, right before the Saskatchewan border. Oddly, although we've driven past it about a dozen times, we've only stopped once to take pictures. That much-anticipated (and long-awaited occasion) was just over a week ago...
I was so surprised (literally - blink and you'll miss it!) when my fella pulled over to give me a closer look. The house is cute from the highway, but the real magic is seen from the back side. It's a shame to think that most people will drive right by, many not noticing it there at all.
According to the artist, Heather Bennett, the house will remain standing for as long as it is safe. If you happen to find yourself travelling along Highway 2 in the near future, be sure to stop at the Souris Subway for a sandwich and then keep your eyes peeled for the Dollhouse. It really is a little unexpected roadside delight.
My favourite attraction (besides the Souris Subway) is the life-sized "dollhouse" which sits just off the highway, right before the Saskatchewan border. Oddly, although we've driven past it about a dozen times, we've only stopped once to take pictures. That much-anticipated (and long-awaited occasion) was just over a week ago...
I was so surprised (literally - blink and you'll miss it!) when my fella pulled over to give me a closer look. The house is cute from the highway, but the real magic is seen from the back side. It's a shame to think that most people will drive right by, many not noticing it there at all.
According to the artist, Heather Bennett, the house will remain standing for as long as it is safe. If you happen to find yourself travelling along Highway 2 in the near future, be sure to stop at the Souris Subway for a sandwich and then keep your eyes peeled for the Dollhouse. It really is a little unexpected roadside delight.
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