the bin

we arrived at the new house at 8:00am this morning to await the delivery of the bin. while we waited, the neighbour from across the street waved a hello and introduced herself to us in a chorus of charmingly broken english. she's a sweet portuguese woman who boasted that everything inside her historic home was "new." funnily, she knew exactly how much we paid for our house. no secrets in this hood. loose lips from thelma next door, to be sure.

our big tree lost a few branches as the gigantic bin tiptoed itself into place on our driveway. i let out a gasp watching the event unfold. somehow everything fell into place. let the renovations begin.

fall for you

the cold crisp in the evening air is back. i have always loved walking home on a fall night, the amber windows across the neighbourhood inviting you in from the cold. the end of flip flops is in sight.

burn baby burn

what began as a deluxe spa weekend in wine country ended with a half moon shaped burn above my left eye. (purple welt discovered this morning) the remedy? apply special cream 2-3 times a day and no sun (baseball hat duty) for 2-3 weeks. hopefully it won't scar. happy anniversary!

last day of summer

the last of anything good merits a little nostalgia. my imagined summer comes without smog, limited heat waves and features endless sunny bike rides and trips to the beach, swimming by moonlight in algonquin or canoeing alongside the occasional moose or loon. it includes flip flops and mango popsicles. this summer was not a lingering one. it was productive. we bought a house! we skipped algonquin, not a beach day in the mix. only one killer 50km bike ride which i am still recovering from. went to nyc for a deluxe weekend in soho, celebrating dN: age 30. learned how to silkscreen on fabric down at harbourfront in a small workshop running 5 weeks. found bliss and inspiration that will definitely last. i started this blog. worked like a mad woman. worked with a sports therapist to fix a sports injury, tried to avoid carpel tunnel and natural gas poisoning. there were some best-ever highlights and the heaven on earth project falls in that category. (will do it justice in a detailed flashback post i promise) new friendships and renewed classics. enjoyed my new quirky neighbourhood for the sole summer of our relationship together. next year, it'll be a new scene. fell into the ritual of a new (to me) yoga studio. nameste.

one phrase, in summary: thank you.

yes, insomnia strikes again. it's 3:30am and i've been wrestling with work dream demons since 1:30am. not to worry, we are going on holiday this weekend. (3 days) up to wine country to celebrate our second anniversary. i am hoping it will pull me out of the obsessed vortex and remind me, as this post did, of all the things to be glad about.

lotus moon cake

any festival that combines fairies, gazing at the moon, fortunes for happy couples, and secret notes from revolutionaries delivered by cake, deserves some respect in my books. read about the moon festival here.

here's a note that i would leave in my secret lotus moon cake for you, you know who you are.

beware the cacklers... and dance by the light of the full moon.

lavender honey would replace the salty duck yolk in my cake.

indian summer

careening around toronto neighbourhoods early on a perfect indian summer sunday morning. we were up to meet with bob, the engineer so that he could sign our drawings for permit. afterwards we stopped by kinkos to make copies (of course), the staffers seemed kinda dead, hoarding paper clips like they were rare coins. then we decided to visit the deluxe wine shop in summer hill. it's set in a converted train station and oozes elegance. dN was in heaven, lost in the aisles, surrounded by glorious wines. we imagined an organic farmer's market out front, california-style.

then we headed to our montreal bagel place in search of 6 steaming hot bagels (sesame seed, of course) for a picnic at a secluded neighbourhood park. we laughed and read the paper on a nearly collapsing picnic table beneath a shady tree. back home, i ended up crawling under the covers for an indulgent nap at 1:30 in the afternoon. i wish days like today could last forever.

proof

the saddest, yet most realistic and compelling film i have seen in awhile. gwyneth really delivers a stellar performance. her complicated relationship with her father and new beau captivates. her struggle with grief, possible insanity, and genius feels real. who knew mathematics could be so dramatic and even cinematic? the dialogue is refreshingly original. it is a true gem, see it soon.

love angel fuschia baby

oh là là, went to holt's last night for their Stila and LAMB by Gwen Stefani party. sassy cocktails splashed with blackberry lemonade and guava served amid swirling silver platters with tiny cup cakes, tarts, and spring rolls. the dj worked the turntables behind a futuristic green pod. holt's introduced their new logo, an art deco-esque beauty on fuschia bags. as we rode the escalator up to the party, a tumble of fushia shopping bags artfully fell from the sky. got my make-up done and felt like a queen. at the end of the night, they sent us off with our very own hot pink Holt's goodie bag. (LAMB t-shirt, Stilla mascara, lip gloss inside) deluxe!

culinary kitsch

trekking across the queensway in search of our site survey, we pulled into the World Famous IZBA Restaurant. Hey Mambo! on the playa. schnitzel's the dinner special, 30 years running. mrs. izba herself took our order. plate o'perogies and a bowl o' borsch, polish beer on da side. we sat in the corner booth in full view of the christmas lights extraordinaire meets polish meets scandinavian meets german decor. dessert, anyone? last stop tom's dairy freeze, a george jetson-esque roadside ice cream joint. two chocolate dips on a picnic table, view of the queensway included.

perma patio loungers

lifesize Plaster of Paris sculptures spotted near the corner of Shaw and Garnet. this duo of perma patio loungers are gossip hounds by day, and either witches or janitors by night. we've received conflicting reports from undercover spies.

purgatory

it's almost 3 am and i'm awake. WIDE awake. sleepless yet completely exhausted, mind racing. purgatory must be like this. i had a coffee two days ago and i'm still living thru the aftermath. who knew a cup of joe could wreak such havoc.

leave a note, why dontcha?

just added Anonymous Comments. don't be shy.

a tour of the hood

knight's limo at your service. never seen cruising the hood, but damn she's got style.



for a moment, she declares herself to anyone who will listen.



where impossibly high sunflowers dwarf seemingly ordinary houses.

more to come...

smoking gun

here's a rant: why must smokers ruin outdoor patios with their fumes? it's the end of summer, perfectly blissful outside and everytime i settle into a patio chair about to announce to the world the delight of it all, someone lights a cigarette and their habit imposes like a cancer cloud. toxic and rude, passive aggressive. it's always surprizing to me that the smokers seem immune to adverse reactions from non-smokers. boldly they continue to smoke in the presence of small children or babies, even. damn you, smokers. keep your habit to yourself. keep our patios and public spaces smoke-free. pretty please and thank you.

the kissing bandit

she looked at her watch, (late!) and stepped into the elevator clenching her briefcase. a middle aged man in a grey suit was in the corner of the elevator already. they exchanged the briefest of nods.

as the elevator numbers crept higher and higher, he nudged closer and closer until she could no longer ignore him and enjoy the few moments of daydream enroute to a meeting.

by the 20th floor, his grey suited elbow brushed against hers. holding her breath and wishing for 26, she caught a sideways glimpse of him. quietly grinning to himself. do i know him? she thought.

at the stroke of 26, bing! she was there. the grey suited man leaned over and kissed her. on the lips. barely blinking, stunned. she escaped in disbelief. did that really happen?

the kissing bandit strikes again.

next time, she would arm herself with a strong defense. travel size garlic spray. the anti-breath mint. a deterrent for any mad kissing fool.

her life on sale

on the corner of christie and yarmouth. it's not what you think. the sunflowers towered, then withered just outside her window. the signs began appearing weeks ago. then finally it appeared, the definitive sign.

"MOVING SALE FINAL."

she lives in a strange converted store with ample display space in the window front. tea cups, pots and pans, jade plants, a collection of earrings and necklaces on display. in a moment of supreme marketing inspiration, she hung party balloons and painted yet another sign in the window announcing the sale again, decorative flowers included for that added personal touch.

my personal favourite sign reads...(spelling is hers)

PERENNIAL!!!
PLANTS FOR SALE
FOR THE BEST PRICE YOU KEN HAVE.

she used to have a sign reading "Ring Bell, Enquire Within."

one day as i passed by her place, i noticed the front door flung wide open, inviting the sidewalk in. she was a gypsy queen sitting at an old formaica table doing paper work with some insurance salesman. the talk seemed to be private, yet she continued to keep the sale running. i snuck a peek at the huge 70s loft space, the indiscriminantly stacked sale items throughout the place, the electric blue spiral staircase in the middle of it all, and then i had to leave. not a word.

i dread the day when she is gone, no SOLD sign, just empty window fronts and deflated balloons.