November 23, 2007
The Frost Fair
“No, what is remarkable about the Frost Fair is that it does not operate by the same rules that govern life on land. It is a phenomenon and is therefore free of the laws and practices of history. The poor and rich alike inhabit the same space, participate in the same sports and diversions, are, for a very brief moment in time, equal citizens of a new and magical world.” Helen Humphreys, The Frozen Thames
October 31, 2007
Until asparagus is in bloom…
Once again I’ve got a reason to declare summer officially gone, and I think this time I mean it. Tonight was the final Trinity Bellwoods Farmers’ Market, which we’ve been dutifully attending since July when Barbara Kingsolver changed our lives with Animal Vegetable Miracle. And what a summer it has been: blueberries to blackberries, cucumbers to squash, blue potatoes and black tomatoes. We’ve learned how to cook swiss chard and kale, beetroot and pumpkin. Grilled veg on the barbeque became roasted vegetables alongside chicken dinners as the nights grew cooler. Yum organic sheep’s cheddar, and beef, and lamb. We’ve been so lucky, and beyond as we also reaped our own harvest this year, our garden providing us with lettuce, tomatoes, melon, peppers, and cucumber. This summer we’ve been quite successful at purchasing local produce, and it’s sad to contemplate giving all that up now that the season is over. Our goal for the winter is to confine our fruit and veg to the continent, which is a bit lame I realize, but it’s still going to be a challenge. We’ve got some frozen tomatoes and strawberries in the freezer for the depths of February, to remind us what freshness tastes like. And in the meantime, of course, we’ll be longing for spring. For asparagus season, which, can you believe, I’ve lived through 27 of already, but never knew enough to appreciate.
October 21, 2007
Very officially
It’s very offically autumn. I know this not because of the food we eat, for we’ve been in squash-mania since September. No, I know it because today I turned up “Do They Know It’s Christmas” and danced around my living room. People were staring from the sidewalk. I love that song, and mostly because it reminds me of being five years-old. Though I know now that that things do grow in Africa, that in fact rain and rivers actually flow, that a lot of people do know it’s Christmas, and probably a whole lot more don’t care if they do. I also know that trans-Atlantic concerts will fail to change the world, but I love that song anyway. From December 1st I play it so often no one dares to come over to my house, and in October I am allowed 1 (one) sneak preview. Today was the day.
It’s also very officially autumn, for I have a new knitting project on the go, thanks to a trip to the wool shop yesterday with Erin. I am seven rows into this cardigan. Having a pair of socks under my belt, it’s time to make something with sleeves, I think. No doubt it will turn out terribly wonky, but at this point I still am permitted hope. I also have knitting needles with sparkles, which were very cool and tres on sale.
October 13, 2007
Summer
I don’t very often refer here to the bad days: to the month spent waiting for test results, for example, or to when my husband was so bored at work, he couldn’t be happy while he wasn’t at work. I don’t very often refer here to the bad days, however, mostly because we don’t have them very often. Because my test results came back negative, and Stuart got a promotion. Because we have had an extraordinary summer full of good fortune, and now that the weather outside appears absolutely autumnal, I can look back and be so grateful.
Of course it’s not all just a given: you’ve got to know enough to appreciate the day you’re in. And as a Canadian I know that sunshine is fleeting. From that first gorgeous day in April I knew enough to put on some shorts, to go outside and enjoy it. But the rest, oh the rest. Any season that begins with celebratory High Tea at the Four Seasons is bound to be exquisite. Frisbee in Trinity Bellwoods Park with Curtis, High Park Picnics before we had leaves on the trees, backyard barbeques with so many friends, the garden born, lobster dinners, and city rooftop summer nights.
Our trip to England in June was a magical story, beginning with the car rental mix-up when we got a Saab Convertible instead of an economy car. That countryside: Yorkshire Dales, Lake Windermere, the Pennines in a thunderstorm, and the seaside. Bronwyn’s wedding on the village green. The night we drove four hours from one side of the country to the other, with Arctic Monkeys, Kaiser Chiefs and Rhianna on the radio, and there was family at the end of the journey. A week in which I ate scones and jam nearly every day.
This summer we were both working for the first time in over two years, and then suddenly my job became permanent and Stuart was appointed to a position that he loves. We had some money again, to get out of town or to enjoy town whilst we were in it. Trips to Toronto Island and the beach at the bottom of Spadina. To Massey Hall for Crowded House in August. Dinners out with friends, just because we wanted to. Our amazing Muskoka weekend back in July, with friends oldest and dearest. To Quebec for Susannah and Loic’s wedding, against the most gorgeous backdrop you could imagine. Trips to Peterborough to see my family, camping on the shores of Rice Lake, infamous Mothers’ Day drunken shenanigans. Montreal in September, and a whole new city to see. The trip on the train.
Summer stretched on this year, from April and into October. That’s seven months of perfect bliss– more than half the year, and we’re lucky just for that. And for the evenings which got colder and darker, and the crunch of leaves beneath our shoes. To wear scarves, and sweaters, and having knitting projects on the go. Oh for October, the best of both worlds. New shoes and warm jackets. To take long lingering walks, still holding hands without our gloves.
October 8, 2007
Thanks
Tropical Thanksgiving went on a brief hiatus yesterday, and we even got to put coats on. Took an autumn walk over to Riverdale Farm, because it’s never a holiday until you’ve talked to a goat. We even saw autumn leaves, which are scarce this year. And so a successful weekend, even if it was thirty five degrees today. Even if I got sprayed by the garden hose and it was nothing but a pleasure. We saw plenty of family inc. cousins, read books, reclined. Ate our leftovers, and even finished them tonight. There are two slices of apple pie left, and we intend to savour them.
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?
September 28, 2007
Canoeists carried
“The canoes carried the canoeists and the canoeists carried the damselflies and everything seemed weightless. They were heading towards the first day of August, the street lights were noticeable again, and a few leaves were turning yellow, indicating in their minimal, elegant way an end to this long, warm summer and the beginning of a darker chapter.” –from Elizabeth Hay’s Late Nights on Air
September 23, 2007
13 Ghosts of Halloween by Storms and Muller
I’ve loved Patricia Storms’s blog for ages now, and have come to admire her bookish enthusiasm, her humour and intelligence– not to mention her artistic talent. (Her bookslut is one of my favourite images ever). And so last week I was quite excited to purchase 13 Ghosts of Halloween by Robin Muller, which Patricia has so beautifully illustrated. A singable tale of a group of friends exploring a haunted house, the book was delightful. Pictoral highlights were the twelve werewolves howling, the redhaired girl with glasses, and cool effect created on the thirteenth stroke of midnight. I loved it. This book is adorable, and I am so pleased it has joined my children’s library, to be pulled out in October for many years to come.
September 5, 2007
New Season
My second summer of rereading proved as fulfilling as the first, though it was not as concentrated. But it was a joy to revisit classics: The Portrait of a Lady and To the Lighthouse, which I’d previously just read as a student, but it was something different to approach them on my own terms. My regular rereads: Slouching Toward Bethlehem and Unless were better than they’d ever been. Books I’d read but forgotten, and certainly not because they were forgettable: The Summer Book, and The Blind Assassin. I have a theory that you’ve never really been anywhere until you’ve been there at least twice, and I think this might very well be the case with books.
But now it is September, and new books are blooming. I’ve been binge reading lately– what else are holiday Mondays for if not a book in a day? Looking forward to the long train journey this weekend to get some more books under my belt. Oh, there are some wonderful books coming out this Fall, so stay tuned here and I’ll recommend the best ones. Watch for my review of Richard B. Wright’s October very soon. I am now reading Turtle Valley by Gail Anderson-Dargatz, who I’ve never read before.
After reading under restrictions for the last two months, being able to read so freely feels deliciously licentious.
