road trippin

I'm back from the Boat Show, and I had a complete and utter BLAST.

I intend to write about it more, but I'm about to head off to PEI for a long weekend with a girlfriend from college, who I haven't seen in four and a half years.

So, you can check out the photos on the marina's Facebook page. (For those of you who aren't on Facebook, you don't actually have to be a member to view these photos. It works just like any other website.) And when I get back, I'll be writing about all I saw at the boat show - and what it was like.

Also, I got the best line from a friend I saw while in Halifax. So simple, I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner. She said, when someone asks me what I do at the marina, I can say,

"I'm in sails."

Hitting the road! Hoping you're having a wonderful Valentine's Day week.

happy new year - 2011!

I think I may have an addiction to Boggle. Have you ever played? The old-school version was a tray with a removable lid. This new version that I got for my brother for Christmas is twistable, so the lid lifts but doesn't come off. You shake the letters, then twist it back down again. Then you have three minutes to make words out of the letters. You form lines to make the words, and letters have to be next to each other, or diagonal. You can't use the same letter twice in one word. Here, you could make POO, LOO, OPT, SLOE, SLOT - and many more. No proper nouns, no abbreviations. It's so addictive! My family and I have been playing for hours and hours. Time goes by super fast when you're playing - and each round is over quickly. "Oh, just one more," we say. Before we know it, hours have gone by.

It's time for some hope, some good news, some cheer. Yes, the holidays have been difficult for me this year, and I'm not entirely sure why. (Although I have some ideas.) But - although that's life - it's not fun to read about. At least, not all the time. (I try to write somewhat about mental health issues - because I really believe that we should all remove the stigma from it, as much as we can. But it's also very personal - so I work to strike a balance between what is interesting to readers, what I'm comfortable with sharing, and what's relevant.)

I've remembered a tattoo that a friend of mine got once - dum spiro spero. "While I breathe, I hope." While I am here, alive, while there is breath in my body to go forward with, I will go forward. I will hope, I will believe in the goodness of people. In surprises, the surprises that life always has in store.

2010 - was the year of getting my first car. Driving to Halifax all by myself. Getting the job at the marina. Leaving the library. Writing more - but also realizing it was time to end the Writers' Group I had started, and continue on with three other writers as a smaller, private group. For the first time since leaving university three years ago - and taking time to recover from illness - I had a full-time job again. In fact, I got quite busy working two jobs, and had to learn to set my limits. As always. These lessons - they keep coming back.

2011 - where will it take me? I have no idea. I've got some hope - some interesting ideas. Looking for some direction, trying to be open.  I suppose whatever happens, I'll keep you posted!

Also, December 18th marked the eighth year I've had this blog. That seems a bit nutty. I was 18 when I started it, and I'm 26 now. I feel like so much has changed - I look back on my 18-year-old self thinking, "My god, I was so young!"

But yeah - thanks to you readers, for reading. For leaving comments. I get so much from your feedback and from knowing I have an audience.

May the New Year bring you many, many good things - peace and happiness and downtime and love. See you there!

because life goes on

 

despite the rain,
despite the leaking chimney that I have lately been calling "an asshole" or a jerk,
despite being sick and needing antibiotics and missing the last two days of work before
our week's vacation,
(including the pizza party and the card giving and the wellwishing)
and now being groggy because of the antibiotics, making me feel even slower than normal, even more tired than I was, which then makes me anxious (is it happening again? what will ever become of me?) -
despite my bedroom being an un-cozy mess - because the of the chimney leaving a flood zone across it, and having to move things to higher ground or out of the room
despite feeling like my whole life is a mess - nothing where it is meant to be, goals and dreams from ten years ago abandoned, each day a new "adventure" of learning what anxiety and depression are going to teach me -

because it is the time of darkness and we all need to gather together around lights
because none of us know when we'll die, or what will become of our life
because of friends, on telephones. friends, offering visits and little presents.
because of "ninjabread" men that friends make.
because of tiny Christmas trees that one of the family mustered up the energy to get, cut down, bring in, decorate.
because of a family doctor who is busy, but yet kind, kind enough that I cry in his office.

because of a walk last week to the Bell Museum to take photos, in the windy dark with a full moon looming over the lake - and walking there, with my camera, I felt "this is who I am, this feels like ME". 

because of all this. despite all of it, too. Merry Christmas. Out of darkness, into light. Let's go.

april fool's day

Today at work, a little girl came in with her mother. I was shelving nearby and overheard the mum say to the little one, "OK, now show Kate your card." This happens a lot - kids like to be the one who presents the librarian with their library card.

Then I heard Kate burst out laughing. "You got me!" She said. "I nearly made it through the day without being April Fool-ed!"

I came over, curious. "Look at this!" She said, showing me what at first looked like a scrap of blue construction paper. Then I realized that the little girl had made a fake "library card," even printing the library's logo from a computer, and cutting it out and gluing it to the paper. She'd written out "library card" and her name. Brilliant!

"Can I still get the book?" The girl asked, and we said, "Of course!"

"And, can I keep the card?" She asked, and again we said, "Of course!"

Were you April Fool-ed today? Or did you fool anyone?

***

PS: No foolin, my friend and fellow writer Bill Conall scored a big one today! His novel, "The Rock In The Water" was shortlisted for the Stephen Leacock Memorial Award for Humour! He is up there with some big names, including Will Ferguson and William Deverell.

I was talking to Bill earlier - he called to tell us here at the library about being on cloud nine - and he said, "I said that if I were to make the shortlist, it would fulfill all my literary aspirations, so I guess everything from here on is anticlimactic." I'm thinking he's got bigger things ahead of him still.

Ask your local bookseller to bring in this book - it's a little-known gem.

Also - Bill started a blog last year, and has yet to do anything much with it. Leave a comment there and show him you're interested!

bam a lam!

Before I had even taken "her" for a test drive, I'd named her Black Betty. I said to Kate, "I'm trying not to get attached." With a goofy grin on my face.

"I can see that's working well for you!" She said.


I drove her to a mechanic's shop in town. The same place where I rented cars all last year, whenever I wanted to spin my wheels and get some freedom. They put her on the hoist and I stepped underneath with the mechanic. It was like looking up at some strange beast, suddenly immobile and helpless. I had no idea what those hoses and metal pieces did, but he did, and he pointed them out to me. "This is in really good shape, really good shape," he kept saying.


Two weeks later - after getting a loan approved, getting the papers signed and the car registered, brand new license plate and studded winter tires - Black Betty and I are together at last. I have a box of tapes on the floor below the passenger's seat. (Black Betty's vintage - 1997 - means that she doesn't have a CD player. Well, she does, but its in the trunk and disconnected.)

It's only been a few days but I can feel things shifting, I can feel myself changing into a "car owner." The kind of person who can get up in the morning, and know that they can get into their car, and drive wherever - and whenever - they want to go. No more worrying about meeting or missing my ride! No more having to call neighbours at the beginning of the work week to sort out who I'm getting into town with! (At least, until it breaks down for the first time. I know, I know.) It's incredible!

I'm sure I'll feel conflicted about this at some point - I'm rather environmental, after all. But for now - knowing that I can go on a little road trip, or do my errands, and take myself to work, all on my own time, on my own schedule, is well worth the money.

I'd love to hear about your first car. Or, if you've never owned a car, tell me about that. But yeah - car stories! Fill the comments!


Valentine's Day is this weekend. I'm writing a little love note to my new car, and as well I thought I'd share this picture with you lot. I was in the Bras d'Or Yacht Club the other day, which is where I meet up with some other writers once a month for some writing exercises, and among other decorations, they have this cherub hanging in a window. Behind it is Baddeck Bay and Beinn Bhreagh mountain. This place is one of the loves of my life, so this picture is fitting.

I hope you and your sweetie - be it a person, a car, a place, a thing, or yourself - have a lovely Valentine's Day weekend.

three sheets to the wind

You've been patient. And now it's time to go to "Essence du Papier."


So I had serendipitously stumbled upon Dame Plume, a store and workshop near St. Viateur Bagels. And, since I have a love for stamps and inks, I asked them if they knew of anywhere in the city that might sell such things. They said they weren't sure, but perhaps someone at the store "Essence Du Papier" would know. So the next day, when my family and I decided to venture into the city again (to eat Schwartz's smoked meat sandwiches, but that's another story for perhaps another day), I asked if we might go on a bit of a treasure hunt.

We found it. We went in. And oh the paper! I mean, just look at the rainbow of paper and envelopes in the picture above! I swooned. I wanted to pick up nearly everything in the store, but my bank account wouldn't really allow me to take it all home with me. So I limited myself, and went with a selection of goodies. Once I got home, I took photos of these goodies.

They didn't, in the end, have any inkpads or stamps, nor did the other store they suggested, so perhaps I'll just have to make a special trip to New York City to visit The Ink Pad. (That plus my family just outside the city might be reason enough!) So, as you'll see after the photos of paper goodies, I decided to satisfy my ink/stamp cravings and yours, and took a shot of the first stamp I ever bought, a cute little berry twig. It's just the berries!

These are greeting cards with blank insides. I love the psychedelic/Indian/Moroccan prints and colors. They're also sparkly. I'm using these to decorate my room, actually, and may never send them to anyone!


This is a sheet of paper where the print is actually pretty faint until you hold it up to the light. It is pinned to the clothesline and the bright sun is shining through from the other side.

These are the three sheets I did buy at Essence du Papier. It was pretty tough to limit myself, but I decided just to grab the first three that caught my eye, and go with it.


The envelopes are from the section of the store pictured above, with the rainbow-display. Again I went with "I don't have much time, so I'm going to have to just pick some and hope for the best." The cards were the same - so many cards! So little time! (And money...)

Ducks detail.

When I saw this calendar, I had to have it. The Helvetica, the colors, the form! My 2010 needs more art and more graphic design. Starting with this.

And here we are. One little stamp picture to finish it off. I wonder what it is about stamps that I love so much? Is it that I'm making a mark on the world when I use them? Is it the do-it-yourself-art that appeals? I'm not sure. But I'll keep stamping to figure it out. And to have fun.

the essence of paper, part one: dame plume

I have a thing about paper.

Well, it's not just about paper. It's about ink, stamps, books, prints, text, fonts, pages, bindings. It's about stores that sell paper - the colors, the textures, the possibilities. It's about art, and people's drawings, and writings. It's about that scritchy-scratchy sound of pen on paper.

We landed in Montreal and I asked my uncle if we could go find St. Viateur bagels. I had never had Montreal bagels and felt this was an experience I should have. So on our way from the train station to his house on the North Shore, he called a friend who knew bagels, and she told him where to find the place I had read about. We parked, and crossed the slushy street to go to it. And there, just two stores down from the bagel establishment, was a storefront called "Dame Plume".

"Oh -" I said, "After the bagels? I'm going to have to go in there."

Cards with handsewing. Cutouts. Hand-made books. Calligraphic pens and inks. Lots of natural light. I looked behind the counter at their workspace and wanted so much to have a place like this in my own village, where I could work. My family dutifully followed me in and looked around. I felt like I was bringing new initiates into a temple. They looked and liked - but I looked and lusted.

This book is titled "Recettes". The drawings of the woman cracking an egg form a flip-book. I almost don't want to write in it, because the blank space is so perfect. But that's life, isn't it? There is no such thing as perfect, and the blank space is meant to be filled.

This is one of the Moleskin books that they customize. I liked them all, but I liked this one particularly. The yellow elastic is also neat. It reminds me of an organic life form of some kind.


Some of the books are made by this company (or person?), Terrain Vague. It doesn't appear that the website is fully operational, but perhaps soon.

I asked the ladies at Dame Plume if they knew of any stores that sold ink and stamps. (Once, when I was in New York City, I found this store called The Ink Pad, and I was hoping to stumble upon a similar treasure here.) They told me about L'Essence de Papier, and I wrote down the address.

Next post: What I found there!

Tell me: do you love paper, books, ink, stamps, writing? What are your favorite stores for such things?

"new year, new you"

I don't generally subscribe to the idea that we have the ability to renew ourselves at New Year's, especially since it's usually touted by women's magazines as a reason to push ever more diets and reasons why we should hate our own bodies (only of course they don't word it like that).

But this year - something feels like it's shifting. New Year's Eve and New Year's Day always have some sort of meaning for me, and this year the switch from one year to another feels more symbolic than before.

For one, I just ended my account on Facebook. It happened to be now, but it could have been any time of year, really. I gave all my friends and contacts fair warning, gave them a week or so to get or give email addresses, and today - it went. I'm pretty sure I'll write more on this later - on why I left it, on how people reacted, and on what Facebook-less life is like.


Also, I've decided that this is going to be the year I move out on my own again. I'm scouting around for apartments and hope to have a place of my own by summer. Or fall at the latest. Woot! It's pretty exciting to start thinking about my own kitchen, my own living room. What it might be like to live right in the village, and walk and bike around.

But for now: it's New Year's Eve. I have sparklers, champagne, Haagen-Dasz ice cream, and really good company. Now that's a damn fine way to ring in 2010!

What about you?

vive montreal!

Mat and I headed into downtown Montreal yesterday. We wanted to walk around, see and hear people, take pictures, and visit a few shops. We walked up and down Rue St. Catherine, which is known for its sex shops and exotic dancers - along with many other shops and bars and restaurants.

(And no, we didn't go in to this establishment. Maybe next time.)


This plaque and poem were at a memorial for all the people in Quebec who died from AIDS - or SIDA as it is known in French. Mat and I both read it, in silence. Then I turned to him and said - "I love you."


Later on, the sun had set. The sidewalks were getting slippery. We were wandering back towards the Mont-Royal Metro station, to have a cafe au lait and then take the train back to les banlieues. (The suburbs.) We were taking side streets and back streets, and admiring the European-cool look of the terrace houses, their metal spiral staircases and bicycles. This one had a balcony with colored lights, and I liked the look of it. That's Mat in the bottom right corner, with a red light above him.

Well. Montreal has been a real trip. I have - get this - 700+ pictures from our week here. That's an average of one hundred photos a day. Food, people, cats, scenes, sights. Some blurry, some not so bad. I'll share some more in the coming days and week(s). Like: our trip to Schwartz's, a famous Jewish delicatessen (or charcuterie Hebraique) on Boul. St. Laurent. Or: the sushi I ate. Or: the trip to Mont Tremblant, or the graffiti I saw in the city. (I have a thing for pretty colors and public graphic design. Hence, graffiti.)

Only three more days of 2009. I'm thinking about where the year has gone, and what interesting and spectacular things happened during it. On the train ride home, I think I'll look back over the pictures of this year, over the events. I'm excited for 2010, though. Bring it!

merry merry merry christmas

Merry Christmas! Here it is, December 25th. Comes around once a year - and we go to excess. Excessive joy, excessive spirits. And, it's all good.

The kids in the house showed restraint - and didn't get up until 8:30. Well, they were up at six but one of the parents made them go back to sleep - or at least let us all sleep. Then they were up and the whole house woke up. I lay on the big leather couch in the basement, listening to the voices upstairs, in the next room, around.

We all put on comfortable lounging clothes and made our way to the living room. Presents to be opened - a chaotic half hour of kids opening presents, bringing presents around to everyone, people hugging, calling across the din to each other - "Thank you for this! I love it!" People going around bunching up the wrapping paper that had in the days before been so carefully cut and taped, crushing it into bunches and putting them in a bag. And just like that - the pile of potential presents that last night had lain like jewels under the tree - were unwrapped, piled around us. Become real. Along with stray ribbons, and chocolates.

Soon after the kids descended in a troupe to the basement to play more XBox. The rest of us sat there, nibbling on les chocolatines and admiring our various gifts. Telling each other the stories of where we found them, how we got them. "There is this store in Peterborough... there is this artist in Winnipeg... when I was in Dubai..."

Now - we are preparing for tonight's dinner. More family coming for that. Dishes to be done, wiped, put away. The tablecloth to be brushed off. Food already cooked in advance to be warmed up, presented. The kids, the little cousins, will jump on our laps and hug us and then run off to another room to stare at a big screen and manipulate plastic controllers that let them be soldiers, or motorcycle drivers.

Merry Christmas to you, and yours. May you have a full and delightful holiday - or a restful one. May it be what you want it to be, and may it be what you didn't imagine. Let it be.

on est en train d'avoir du fun

I brought Christmas lights with us, and strung them up on the train. This way people seeing the train go by would see them.


We stopped in Moncton and I got out and walked along the platform, snapping shots. This is the very last car of the train.

Dining car: the next morning. Snowy Quebec passing by outside.


St. Viateur Bagel shop. I had read about it before going to Montreal, then when my uncle picked us up, we went straight there. A dozen sesame bagels, please. Wood-fired. Yum.


Nuts to this! Once we landed, I had an errand to go run. My uncle's fiancee, whose heritage is Egyptian, took me out to the mall. On the way there we stopped at "Noix Said", a shop that sells - you guessed it!- nuts. And a lot of other stuff. I bought 5 dollars worth of fresh pecans. Delicious.


At last night's dinner, we ate boeuf bourgignon, and the dining table was lit by votive candles in beautiful glass containers. French and English flew around the table in equal measures. My uncle and his fiancee call each other, "Habibi." So there's a little bit of Arabic, too.

We're running off to downtown to have smoked meat sandwiches. Tonight - most of the family gathers for a big dinner. Tomorrow - presents! And soon - more posts! I'm taking so many pictures, and I want to share them ALL.

hold me closer tiny...

So I'm at work this morning and somewhere in the library I come across this book. So of course I have to photograph it and show it to you all, because it is clearly the most awesome book ever. I mean, a horse named after Tony Danza? Brilliant!

And, it also makes me think of Elton John. "Hold me closer, tiny danza..."


Who would want to leave this cozy scene? This is my couch, with one of our three cats. Seriously, I could live on this couch. Especially at night, with sparkly lights up like it is here.

But, tomorrow morning I'll be getting on a bus, which will take me to a train. And then I'll take the train all the way to Montreal. We're leaving the cats in the capable hands of a neighbour, and going to see what we can see in la belle province.

I added some new links in the sidebar: Shapely Prose, or Kate Harding and her minions... Alex Hanam, or Lexi as she is known sometimes... Shutter Sisters, an amazing resource for women who like to take pictures... and "I Phone the Prime Minister Of Canada Every Day", which was just started by a friend of mine in Sydney. It's kind of hilarious. No wait - it's all kinds of hilarious.

Also: I'm leaving Facebook! And it's not just a knee-jerk reaction to something - I've been thinking about this for several months now. More on that to come - it's making me think about the Internet, and our lives online, and how we interact with each other.

But first: work! And then: a train! And later: more posts!

Christmas is coming!

The other day I was going through the newspaper, and I happened upon an article about George Clooney that was accompanied by a photograph. Something about the photo of his head just begged to be cut out and put on a hand-drawn body, so that's what I did. Then I taped my creation under the wreath by the kitchen table, so that we might have a Clooney-rific Christmas. Five minutes with a sharpie and a pair of scissors, and a lifetime of Christmas magic.


A few days later, I was over on the West side of the island. My friend and I were driving along, marvelling at the high winds and the whipped waves. We stopped the truck and I got out to take some photos. "Don't be offended if I don't get out there with you!" said he. "Don't worry, I'm not!" Then I got out of the truck and blew away - I mean, nearly blew away. And took the shot above, of the ocean and the snow and all the wild whiteness.



Yesterday, after a hiccup or two, my Christmas cards arrived! I was so happy when Kal Barteski offered these for sale last month. And, they're even better in person. The cardstock is nice and firm, the colors are gorgeous, and the fonts are to sigh for. Beautiful, just beautiful. So now I'm hopping to it, addressing and stamping and writing out these babies, to get them back in the mail and hopefully out to their recipients by Christmas.

(But, not stressing too much about that. I've been trying to be realistic about things lately - when I get stressed about something like, say, getting my Christmas cards to the people they're going to by December 25th, I stop and think: wait a sec, why is it SO important? It's not, really. If they get them at all, it's good.)

Just in case you wanted a gander at some of her beautiful designs and entertaining blog - that's where to go.

This time next week, I'll be posting from Montreal! Keep your eyes peeled in the meantime, I might just be doing some random posts between now and then.

oh the weather outside is frightful

After all, it's not like we have any choice. So, let it snow.

Besides, it's beautiful. It lightens the dark November days, we can make snowballs with it, and it makes everything seem more like Christmas. (Which, like all dates this year, is flying towards us with heart-stopping speed. Fifteen more days! What the !?!?)

Soon, soon, I'll be getting on a train to Montreal. I'll be spending Christmas with some dear French-Canadian family. It's funny how life works: four years ago, I was dating a guy who lived in Montreal. We were happily making plans for me to spend Christmas with him in the city, but then life happened and we ended up breaking up. Four years later - after life sent me down other paths - I'm getting my Christmas in Montreal.

What is it about Christmas in a city that gets us going? At least, a city with old buildings and snow, a sense of history and a sense of fabulous interiors. I think it has something to do with our imaginations, with picturesque scenes in our heads of snowy streets and big Christmas trees in squares. I'll go and see, and report back, shall I?

*******

In other news, a family friend died suddenly on Tuesday. Jeremy Frith was a farmer, a poet, a father, a husband, a friend. He was larger than life and certainly a good candidate, as Bill said the other day, to live forever. I kind of thought he was going to.

The news has been shocking. How could someone like that just be gone?

Just like that, I guess. And we're left to make sense of it, or at least to make sense of our feelings, which are stormy in the wake.

To read more about Jeremy, go to Susan Zettell's blog.