October 5, 2007
Tropical Thanksgiving
Tomorrow night I’m scheduled to be roasting my turkey just as the temperature outside “feels like” 40 degrees. Hmm. Some October. Perhaps we’ll just sweat off the calories?
July 2, 2007
My Canada Day Pancake Nightmare
(In lieu of having celebrated this Canada Day in any particular fashion, I bring you a flashback to Canada Day 2004.)
Soon after I volunteered to work at the International Friendship Festival in Himeji Japan, I began receiving strange phone calls. The callers would inform me that they had passed my number onto someone else, and then that someone would call later with a similar message. Finally, a Mrs. Ito reached me and informed me that I would be cooking pancakes at the Festival’s Canadian food booth. The Canadianness would be featured in that pancake accessory, I assumed, the old stand-by, maple syrup.
I tried explaining to Mrs. Ito that having me cook was a bad idea. I once messed up a recipe with three steps by doing them in the wrong order. I have a dangerous faith in ingredient substitution. My cooking is perfectly abominable in every single way. I did have other skills that could probably put me to better use. But Mrs. Ito wasn’t having any of it. She arranged to meet me the next day back at the International Centre.
When we met, her smile was larger than her face, but she pretended to not understand English when I tried to protest the pancakes. There was no turning back, no matter how hard I attempted retreat. Mrs. Ito instructed me that I would face a “cooking rehearsal” on July 1st, the following week. That I was to come bearing ingredients. I left her that day, confused and annoyed.
I found half a packet of pancake mix left over in the cupboard from Shrove Tuesday, and I bought a cheap bottle of Japanese pancake syrup the morning of my rehearsal. I even remembered egg and oil, which I thought was impressive. I did wonder if I should have been making the pancakes from scratch, but I felt so concurrently coerced and put-out that I decided that if Mrs. Ito didn’t like it, frankly, she could stuff it.
But I just had this feeling. A fear of a cooking rehearsal far too strong to be sensible. What could possibly go wrong— just me and Mrs. Ito in a little kitchen? However my apprehension was particularly nagging, so I asked my then-boyfriend Stuart to come with me, and because he feared I was having a nervous breakdown, he reluctantly consented.
Immediately upon arrival at the International Centre as scheduled, I seriously contemplated turning around and sprinting home, but we had already been spotted. We entered the kitchen where we were greeted by sixteen women seated waiting at a table, and they expressed their happiness at attending this wonderful Canadian lunch today. And I desired to be swallowed by the air.
I reluctantly took my “ingredients” from my backpack. “Mix?” they said, evidently a similar word in English and Japanese. Thirty two eyes examined the mix curiously. Much conversation ensued. Presumably about how half a packet of pancake mix would feed sixteen expectant lunchers. After a hasty conference among themselves, it was decided that everyone would have a tiny pancake. So there remained the issue of my inability to cook, but that was ok, mostly because Stuart did most of it. Chatter between the women continued throughout the cooking, and in spite of their big smiles, I didn’t get the impression they were singing my praises.
And the worst was still to come. It was time for the maple syrup, freshly tapped from a Japanese factory. I quickly tore off the label, and when Mrs. Ito asked if it was Canadian maple syrup, I lied and said yes. Clearly the International Friendship Festival Committee were not convinced.
It was the wrong colour, they thought. “Is it honey?” the women kept asking me. That it truly was maple syrup was some form of rightousness. I retained my resolve and the women stopped questioning me. However their own conversation continued in Japanese, smattered with exclaimations of the word “maple” and several audible question marks.
When dinner was served and we all sat down to eat our coin sized pancake. The pancakes were good, and the women were very friendly and someone had found some cookies to make the meal go further. I told them that today was Canada’s birthday, and their all applauded. And then I remembered a bag of Canadian Flag pins in my purse, like a treasure in my hold. I passed them out, and the mood softened a bit at that. The pins lent a certain authenticity to my act. Not only was I an authentic idiot, but a Canadian one too.
Conversation was awkward, mostly consisting of people pointing and laughing at Stuart and I. They talked to me a bit about the Friendship Festival, which I, miraculously, was still supposed to be attending. They asked if I could get some Canadian flags and various paraphernalia for the Canada booth and I told them I could find out if the embassy could provide us with something. Somebody translated into Japanese that I had many friends at the embassy who would supply us with Canadian things, and at that point I began to see how these sorts of misunderstandings get started.
June 29, 2007
I wish it were a rhododendron
I write you from the weekend, which for me starts today (Friday) and, for most of us, lasts until Monday eve. And this has been my first day off since I started work, and I’ve spent it reading, and finishing a story I’m really pleased with. Having the kind of day I learned to have last winter when I wrote from nine to five, and what a treasure. I still think that now, even if these days only come along once in a blue moon. And this weekend is positively bursting with friends, which is glorious. We’re booked up every day, and even doubled booked some, and forces have conspired to make me happier and more assured than I’ve been in absolutely ages. The good times indeed. I’ve got a cup of tea beside me now.
June 24, 2007
Assemblage
We get all celebratory come June, and today is my birthday. I made a project of keeping it quiet this year, which I thought would be somewhat mature of me and worthy of a woman of twenty-eight years. And so this weekend has been easy and sunshine, and full of the things we like best. We’re just back from brunch and are set for bbq tonight. And with all our celebrations, we’ve got a regular shrine going on at our house. A lovely assemblage of cards here, as well as the two splendid flower arrangements which were such a surprise. The tall, gorgeous wild one was courtesy of my sister, and the other in the magnificent vase was from Bronwyn. They’re not normally side by side, and it’s rather glorious to have flowers all around the house. In none floral news, I received so many lovely things (incl. a Miffy umbrella!), but one in particular I’ve got my nose stuck in. Stuart got me A Memoir of Friendship: The Letters Between Carol Shields and Blanche Howard. But then that much goodness is certainly overwhelming, and I have to put it down for a breath every moment or two.
June 18, 2007
Beloved doesn't come much bigger than this
Happy Second Anniversary to Stu.
Though I do like to be beside the seaside, most of all I like to be beside you.
More than the sky. xo
February 14, 2007
D to the pearls of love
Tomorrow is Valentines. My wise friend Carolyn said that Valentines is really only for women with crappy men in their lives, just so at least one day a year they get a dose of goodness. Those of us with oft-upstanding blokes should expect a day much like any other. Which isn’t so terribly really, but it’s certainly not what the lately-ubiquitous diamond commericals on television have had me expecting. I’m totally holding out for White Day though.
December 31, 2006
What is left over
Here for Archie Andrews in Vanity Fair. Heather Mallick gives us the saints and standouts of 06. On foresaking the gym for reading poetry. In the Books Blog for on the library debate. By the great Booklust, I was directed to Kimbooktu, which is a books gadget blog! And it’s fantastic. Incidentally, I finished book 172 and am getting through 173 (but it’s not very long). And now I must go and prefer for my New Years Blow Out. Which is not so much of a blow-out, you will probably realize, when I inform you that my first stage of preparation involves baking a carmelized apple cake. But still. The eve promises to be most excellent and bursting with friends.
December 23, 2006
Merry Christmas
It’s nearly The Eve, and we’ve been rocking out lately to Snoopy and the Red Baron, Do They Know It’s Christmas, Fairytale of New York, All I Want for Christmas is You, Please Come Home for Christmas, Oh Holy Night and When a Child is Born (among other fine tunes). We’re getting ready for all our favourite Clare-Lawler Christmas traditions ie Slade, brunch, a Mexican supper, and our annual Love Actually viewing. And then it’s off to PTBO for a couple of days of family fun, all the while we’ll be missing our family far across the sea. I hope that everybody passes the next few days properly. Yuletide yeas.
December 20, 2006
From here and there
The Penelopiad is being remade for the stage. And though it happened awhile back, John Steffler is Canada’s new poet laureate (and I liked his novel.)
In terms of non-fiction, I’m reading uTOpia at the moment, which is interesting in parts, but terribly obnoxious in others (one person wrote an essay about how he was connected to each of the forces of Toronto’s cultural renaissance [ie someone was his second cousin, though they’d only become acquainted recently, and he used to go to parties at so and so’s house, etc etc] which I think was supposed to have a point beyond that but I missed it).
The big news is that Bronwyn’s back in town, and showers galore are the theme of the holidays. As matron of honour, I have organized a fete for Saturday afternoon, but then I can’t say anything more because it’s a surprise. Just that it’s bookish. We’re keeping holiday gatherings to a minimum, as I’ve got a lot of work to do these days. Tomorrow night, however, I am learning how to make risotto, which is exciting. We’re getting to the end of the Christmas baking, like the gluttons we are. I realized I made it a week earlier this year, which probably wasn’t the best idea.
