Festival of Lights

Mom and Dad were in town until today to catch up with family after Christmas.  Last night we walked down to Earl's at Hornby and Smithe so I could devour a steak...it was a cold, crisp night and we decided to walk so we could admire the Lights of Hope at St. Paul's on the way.

Mom and Dad.
Me and Dad.  Waiting for the steak.
Currie Cat in a suitcase.  Just because she can.

Christmas is for Giving

So Currie has a friend, Revelstoke Kaderly-Demerse, also known as Stoke the Labrador, who has featured prominently on this blog before.  Currie decided she wanted to get Stoke something for Christmas and picked out a very lovely gingerbread man tug toy.  The problem was, when she got to wrapping it, she decided she might like it for herself, until I caught her in the act:

"I was just making sure it was OK.  Really."

Stoke loved it and went about destroying it immediately.

"Boy Mom, that was sure fun!"

"I'll just rest my eyes for a minute."

Sugarpalooza 2007

So, the weird thing is, since I cut sugar from my diet a few months ago, I've become a compulsive baker.  Seriously.  It's like, not a good week if I haven't whipped up a batch of cookies to give to someone or take to work.  Or, to even stick in my freezer.  I never touch them, but I can't stop baking them!  It's kind of sick.  I feel like I should be doing it in the dead of night, with the shades drawn and the door locked.  It makes me feel dirty.  Check this out:

This is ONE NIGHT'S work:  icebox cookies, stained glass cookies, sugar cookies, double chocolate peppermint ganache sandwich cookies, Kentish Bramble Jelly cookies, sugar cookies, sandwich cookies, and homemade truffles.  Oh yeah, and Scotch shortbread.  
Clockwise, from left: Oreo truffle dipped in white chocolate, Bailey's, Mocha, cherry dipped in milk chocolate, cheesecake, peanut butter and dark chocolate.  Center: cookie dough truffle dipped in dark chocolate.  Hope they taste good; I didn't try 'em.
Kentish Bramble Jelly Cookie.
"Stuck-together" cookies.  My Grandma's recipe.
Icebox cookies.  Martha's recipe.

So, yeah, I guess if you want some cookies send me a self-addressed stamped cookie tin.  Allow a few days for shipment.

See Me in the Most Canadian Musical Ever!



Vancouver’s peppy and boisterous Broadway Chorus is proud to present the MOST CANADIAN SHOW EVER!

Sure, Anne of Green Gables is a Canadian classic, but it's just that little bit more Canadian when gutsy imp Anne Shirley is replaced with multi-Grammy and Juno winner Anne Murray, Canada's sweetheart. Yes, in Anne Murray of Green Gables our favourite pop star is adopted by Marilla and Matthew Cuthbert of Avonlea. She can't work on the farm, she can't help around the house, but she has a beautiful singing voice, and just might be their ticket to winning that talent contest they've always lost to the Lyndes.

Will Anne fit in to her new family? Will the Lynde Family (and the Partridge Family) adopt a pop star of their own? Find out in this hilarious spoof featuring songs from Broadway, the movies, pop hits, and beloved seasonal favourites. Christmas will never be the same!

Check out onceupon.org/anne for ticket info, or contact me directly...

There Goes My Hope of Doing a "Purple Rain" Cover



So apparently the woman who posted the video (mom to the adorable kid dancing to "Let's Go Crazy" by Prince) has received a take-down letter from Universal Music Publishing Group warning that she is infringing the artist's rights to the song. They also noted that they were acting "at the behest of the artist."

Now, I do intellectual property law and I'm all for protecting your rights, but, um, isn't Prince taking things a little too far? I'm not too familiar with the US concept of fair use (which permits use of part of a copyrighted work for certain non-commercial purposes), but I kinda feel like posting a video of your kid dancing so Grandma and Grandpa and Auntie Susie can see it would probably qualify...

And Prince, if you're reading this, please don't sue me. I think you're awesome.

If you weren't sure if I was a nerd before...

When I was a kid we used to go to the library every week. I had a limit imposed on me by the librarians: while most people could take out 10 books, I could take out 20. They knew I always read them, that was the thing. Anyways, I had my favorites that I would take out again and again, even when I was a teenager: lots of L.M. Montgomery. Laura Ingalls Wilder. And a little jewel of a series by Maud Hart Lovelace called the "Betsy-Tacy" books, which are a semi-autobiographical series about Lovelace herself. They take place in the early 1900's, pre-World War One, and I can't possibly relate to them in any way, but I LOVED them. I read them over and over again.

Betsy Ray and Tacy Kelly grow up next door to each other in Deep Valley, Minnesota in the early 1900s. There are several books of their adventures as children with their German friend Tib (from Milwaukee! Exotic!), which I couldn't care less about. However, there is a series that starts when they go to high school, beginning with "Heaven to Betsy" (freshman year), "Betsy in Spite of Herself" (sophomore year), "Betsy was a Junior" (duh) and "Betsy and Joe" (senior year). Following graduation, there is the fabulous "Betsy and the Great World" in which Betsy sees Europe, pre-World War One (and visits her sister, who is training to be an opera singer in Germany), and "Betsy's Wedding."

Betsy is a writer. She is arch-rivals with/hopelessly attracted to Joe Willard, who is also a writer. They compete for the top prizes in English and Composition in their high school. They belong to rival "societies" that try to win the school cup every year. And, despite lots of opportunities such as sleigh rides and skating parties and football games and taffy pulls and sing-a-longs around the piano (I kid you not), they don't manage to get it together until Senior Year and she wears Joe's flowers to Commencement (ha). But! Alas! Something goes wrong. And thus Betsy and her broken heart go out to see the world alone. Not to worry, though, she returns home to Deep Valley after her Grand Tour (she goes by ship, of course) and she and Joe (now working at the local paper) get it together and live happily ever after, writing. Betsy even learns how to cook in between writing novels (see, there is hope for me yet).

I can't tell you how I loved these books. The romantic picture of life as a teenage girl at that time abslolutely delighted me even though I had no idea what a "fascinator" was or why Betsy's hair was always in "puffs" or why she and Tacy were enthusing about lace jabot collars. Hunky farm boy Joe Willard's golden locks and sparkling blue eyes...well, I've said enough right there. Of course, these books have mostly been out of print for decades and my library's copies are long gone. It makes me sad.

But! There is hope! Apparently there are other nerds like me, who have formed the Betsy-Tacy Society (http://www.betsy-tacysociety.org)! They have BOUGHT the original houses in "Deep Valley" Minnesota that belonged to Betsy and Tacy (well, Maud and her friend)! They have opened a MUSEUM! They have lobbied Harper Collins to put these books back in print! They are keeping Betsy and Tacy (and JOE!) alive!

AND! Thanks to the magic of E-Bay and a link provided by the Betsy-Tacy Society, I will shortly be the owner of ALLLLL of the Betsy (post-puberty) books! Oh, this is so exciting. I can't wait. I am such a loser.

October Blues

I have been stuck at home for the past few days with the worst cold bug ever. I'm sure I caught it on the plane home from London-my mom says I always catch something on the plane-but I just can't seem to shake it. And it's raining and I've been holed up in my house for four days with only my cat for company. And while she's fantastic company, she's kind of...a cat. And after we've snuggled watching Oprah, snuggled playing on the computer, snuggled reading books, snuggled and napped, I feel like Currie and I need some space from each other, you know? I'm hoping tommorrow I'll be able to get up and go outside, go for a walk or something...I'm trying not to think about the work that's probably piled up on my desk...

Everyone Must Love Feist.

OK, so I've always been big into Ms. Feist, but she keeps getting better and better and I have to love her more. The latest song from "The Reminder" I have on repeat is, I think, the anthem of late-20-something single women who have everything (but the boy) everywhere. Go. ITunes. Download. Now.

Intuition

What gives, what helps
The Intuition?
I'll know, I'll know
(Oh) I won't have to be shown
The way home
And it's not about a boy
Although, although

They can lead you
*Break or defeat you

A destination known
Only by the one
Whose fate is overgrown
Piecemeal could break your home
*In half
A love is not complete
With only heat

And they can tease you
Break or complete you

And in came a heatwave
A merciful save
And you choose, you chose
Poetry over prose

A map is more unreal
Than where you've been
Or how you feel

And it's impossible to tell
How important someone was
*And what he might have missed out on
*And how he might have changed it all
*And how you might have changed it all for him
*and how he might have changed it all
*And how he might have changed it all for you


Did I, did I
Did I, did I
Did I, did I

*And did I miss out on you?