Putting up the nativity scene is always a big deal in our house. Our main nativity set is a set my father had as a child. It's an entire village with plaster of paris Mary and Joseph and Jesus and Wise Men (except, for some reason, there are 6 Wise Men, not 3) and animals and townspeople and buildings made of cork that are barely staying together given their age of 50+ years and blue tissue paper with gold stars on it to hang on the wall to represent the sky. We set it all up on a sheet of plywood, with gravel-lined paths and lights and some evergreen leaves. A couple years ago we were in Italy at Christmas and my mom bought some special brown-green paper and some mossy stuff, so we could make a whole landscape - we made hills and trees and bushes - it looked great. I'll have to scan a picture in at some point. My favourite part of the set is the 2 ducks that we always place at the entrance of the manger.
(He told this story that always breaks my heart when I think of it. When he was 9, they moved from Italy to here. He had packed up his nativity scene but my grandmother told him he couldn't bring it because there wasn't enough room. He had to leave it with relatives. It's so sad to think of this little boy being told he can't bring his precious nativity scene, after carefully packing it, and having to be without it for years until someone went back to Italy and returned with it)
Now, I admit, there have been some problems with our nativity scene in the past. When we were little, we used to use that fake spray snow to add snow to Bethlehem and the desert. Hmm. I also don't think they have Boreal forest evergreens in Bethlehem. I think the biggest issue came to light a year or two ago. I realized that, for 15 years, we had been setting up the town completely wrong, and had the Wise Men coming from the West. What were we thinking?!
Anyway, to get to the point (3 paragraphs later), nativity scenes are not just a staple, but a focus, of our Christmas decoration/preparation. So, now that I'm on my own, I was going to have to figure out my nativity scene situation.
I started looking around for what would be *my* nativity scene. After a month or so, I realized that I was going to have to get an interim nativity scene, and spend a bit of time trying to figure out what I wanted for my *main* nativity scene. Even as I looked for an interim set, though, I realized I apparently have subconsciously developed nativity scene criteria about which I am inflexible.
Nativity Scene Rules
1. There must be at least two sheep
2. The pieces must be separate pieces. Those all-in-one jobbies, where all the figures are already attached in the manger just won't do.
3. There must be an angel.
4. The figures must have some aura of "cuteness" about them. Or friendliness. Or openness and approachability. Or some indefinable quality that I just didn't see in many nativity scenes that, while nice, seemed rather cold and fake.
5. There must be a physical manger that Mary, Jesus and Joseph can actually sit/stand in.
6. One of the Wise Men must be black (or, at least, non-white).
7. There must be at least one shepherd.
8. I would prefer a cow and a camel. While a donkey is a nice touch, I have no strong feelings either way on it.
What did I end up with? The "Children's Nativity Scene". (I don't even want to know what it means that I bought the one aimed at children. :p)
13 pieces - manger, Mary, Jesus, Joseph, angel, sheperd holding sheep, 2nd stand-alone sheep, 3 Wise Men, camel, cow AND donkey! The figurines are described as "child-like" so they're quite cute. For only $13!!! At the strangest of places - Canadian Tire!
My only concern is that Mary's veil is yellow - Mary always has a blue veil. I'm contemplating repainting it.
November 26, 2004
Premature Decoration
It's always been a hard and fast rule in our house that you don't decorate for Christmas until Dec. 1st (actually, usually, until after Dec. 3, but sometimes there are exceptions).
I put my Christmas lights on my balcony last week while it was warm, but just didn't turn them on. That's okay I think, because it was done to avoid the cold - and you can't see them if they're not on and I'm not turning them on till December.
But then, last night, something went completely awry.
My parents were here to "drop off a chair" (my dad is refinishing the chairs for my dining room table, and so, every couple weeks, the parental units come up to "drop off a chair" which is parent speak for "investigate and make sure everything is going smoothly". (aside: you know I really don't care that I punctuate improperly around quotations - it's not out of ignorance, it's more out of disagreement with grammar rules, so I am going to continue to take a stand! Sorry.)
So, while we were visiting, I took out my new nativity scene (ooh! I meant to write about that too!) and my Charlie Brown Christmas tree (so called because it's a 3 foot tall artifical tree which is so incredibly sad compared to the 7 foot tall real trees we have at home :( ) to show my parents. Once I had the nativity scene all unpacked, I remembered what a pain it was to get it back in the box, and I thought about how Dec 1st is next Wed anyway, and I just decided to leave it out somewhere.
Then I pulled out the Charlie Brown Christmas tree and my dad goes "Why don't you just put it up?". I was stunned. He was always the "Not Before Dec. 1/3!!!" rule enforcer! But, if I waited, he wouldn't get to see it. So apparently rules can be changed for him. So I put up the tree and the lights and the nativity scene. My mother had brought some of my other Christmas decorations, and was unpacking them so she could take the box home. So I put those out as well.
Now, here I sit, Nov. 26, and my apartment is (almost) completely decorated for Christmas. Five days early. And I feel completely out of sorts because of it. I had ordered a poinsettia from a mechanic at work (trying to buy his love so he'll do me favours in the future - so sad) and I saw him today and asked when they're arriving. Because it feels like Christmas is here. When he said "next week", I realized how far ahead of schedule I am. I'm completely off.
The only saving grace is that, because I wasn't planning on decorating this early, I don't have Christmas tree ornaments. Right now, it only has 3 plus an angel, stuff my mother brought. So there is still the official decorating of the tree to launch the Christmas season next week. But man, I'm so early I had to practically hide the Wise Men in the back corner of the nativity scene because they haven't even thought about packing yet, let alone actually set out on the journey!
I need a better plan next year. I just totally killed November.
I put my Christmas lights on my balcony last week while it was warm, but just didn't turn them on. That's okay I think, because it was done to avoid the cold - and you can't see them if they're not on and I'm not turning them on till December.
But then, last night, something went completely awry.
My parents were here to "drop off a chair" (my dad is refinishing the chairs for my dining room table, and so, every couple weeks, the parental units come up to "drop off a chair" which is parent speak for "investigate and make sure everything is going smoothly". (aside: you know I really don't care that I punctuate improperly around quotations - it's not out of ignorance, it's more out of disagreement with grammar rules, so I am going to continue to take a stand! Sorry.)
So, while we were visiting, I took out my new nativity scene (ooh! I meant to write about that too!) and my Charlie Brown Christmas tree (so called because it's a 3 foot tall artifical tree which is so incredibly sad compared to the 7 foot tall real trees we have at home :( ) to show my parents. Once I had the nativity scene all unpacked, I remembered what a pain it was to get it back in the box, and I thought about how Dec 1st is next Wed anyway, and I just decided to leave it out somewhere.
Then I pulled out the Charlie Brown Christmas tree and my dad goes "Why don't you just put it up?". I was stunned. He was always the "Not Before Dec. 1/3!!!" rule enforcer! But, if I waited, he wouldn't get to see it. So apparently rules can be changed for him. So I put up the tree and the lights and the nativity scene. My mother had brought some of my other Christmas decorations, and was unpacking them so she could take the box home. So I put those out as well.
Now, here I sit, Nov. 26, and my apartment is (almost) completely decorated for Christmas. Five days early. And I feel completely out of sorts because of it. I had ordered a poinsettia from a mechanic at work (trying to buy his love so he'll do me favours in the future - so sad) and I saw him today and asked when they're arriving. Because it feels like Christmas is here. When he said "next week", I realized how far ahead of schedule I am. I'm completely off.
The only saving grace is that, because I wasn't planning on decorating this early, I don't have Christmas tree ornaments. Right now, it only has 3 plus an angel, stuff my mother brought. So there is still the official decorating of the tree to launch the Christmas season next week. But man, I'm so early I had to practically hide the Wise Men in the back corner of the nativity scene because they haven't even thought about packing yet, let alone actually set out on the journey!
I need a better plan next year. I just totally killed November.
A little concerned about my good luck quota
I have been searching for pants since the beginning of time.
Well okay, that might be a bit of an exaggeration. But I *have* been searching for a pair of simple, plain, flat front, straight leg, navy blue pants since 1998. I remember I spent most of '98 and '99 mall time trying to find navy blue pants. I also remember it was especially frustrating because, for some reason, I couldn't actually enunciate the phrase "navy blue pants" and kept saying "navy boo plants" which made it really difficult to rant about the lack of navy blue pants without laughing at my apparent speech impediment. I've had a couple pair since then but they were never exactly what I was looking for.
About 3 years ago, I started looking for the perfect pair of simple, plain, flat front, straight leg greay pants. In late October, I found a pair that came sorta close and that I didn't despise, so I bought them. They're not too bad.
Tonight, the search ended. I wasn't even looking for pants. I was looking for a kinda dressy outfit. But, in browsing the store, I saw these greay pants - they are about 2 shades darker than the greay pants I just bought, so I figured that justified trying them on.
They were exactly what I've been looking for the last three years.
Then the sales lady said the words that made the heavens open. "They also come in blue and black."
Could it really be?! After all these years?! The perfect pair of navy blue pants I've been searching for?!
I had her bring them to me. It's like they were taken directly from my dreams!
In one night the perfect pair of greay pants and the perfect pair of navy blue pants fell into my lap when I was least expecting it. It made me wonder. Was this my reward for a really long week at work where everything seemed to go wrong? Was this wish granted in return for patiently waiting all these years? I'd like to believe it's something happy like that. But part of me is worried I'm going to pay for this stroke of luck somehow. We only have so much good luck in this life. From which future event did I just steal some? And will it be worth it?
Well okay, that might be a bit of an exaggeration. But I *have* been searching for a pair of simple, plain, flat front, straight leg, navy blue pants since 1998. I remember I spent most of '98 and '99 mall time trying to find navy blue pants. I also remember it was especially frustrating because, for some reason, I couldn't actually enunciate the phrase "navy blue pants" and kept saying "navy boo plants" which made it really difficult to rant about the lack of navy blue pants without laughing at my apparent speech impediment. I've had a couple pair since then but they were never exactly what I was looking for.
About 3 years ago, I started looking for the perfect pair of simple, plain, flat front, straight leg greay pants. In late October, I found a pair that came sorta close and that I didn't despise, so I bought them. They're not too bad.
Tonight, the search ended. I wasn't even looking for pants. I was looking for a kinda dressy outfit. But, in browsing the store, I saw these greay pants - they are about 2 shades darker than the greay pants I just bought, so I figured that justified trying them on.
They were exactly what I've been looking for the last three years.
Then the sales lady said the words that made the heavens open. "They also come in blue and black."
Could it really be?! After all these years?! The perfect pair of navy blue pants I've been searching for?!
I had her bring them to me. It's like they were taken directly from my dreams!
In one night the perfect pair of greay pants and the perfect pair of navy blue pants fell into my lap when I was least expecting it. It made me wonder. Was this my reward for a really long week at work where everything seemed to go wrong? Was this wish granted in return for patiently waiting all these years? I'd like to believe it's something happy like that. But part of me is worried I'm going to pay for this stroke of luck somehow. We only have so much good luck in this life. From which future event did I just steal some? And will it be worth it?
Living the High Life
So I'm going to the BIG CITY next weekend for a reception and I just booked my hotel. I got a room rate X. Then I looked on the web and saw a room rate Y that was $20 less. So I called back to see if I could get that instead. I found out that X includes breakfast and valet parking and Y only includes brekkie. And (self) parking is $20 anyway. So I stuck with my original reservation. Valet parking! How exciting! I've never valet parked before!
Then I started to laugh. I can just see myself driving up to this fancy schmancy hotel and handing the valet the keys to my car... a 1996 Escort. My dad said I should make sure to say "Take care of her." Hee hee.
Then I started to laugh. I can just see myself driving up to this fancy schmancy hotel and handing the valet the keys to my car... a 1996 Escort. My dad said I should make sure to say "Take care of her." Hee hee.
November 22, 2004
Cover them up!
The landlady put up a Christmas tree in the lobby last week, but still hasn't decorated it.
The accounting department put up a tree a couple days ago, and completely bare (well, save for a silver star at the top), it sits.
They're starting to drive me crazy. I don't like Christmas decorations this early, but naked Christmas trees bother me. They look so exposed, so lonely. Fill them with glass balls, wrap them in garland and tinsel, brighten them with little twinkle lights, just do something! Make them alive! It makes me so sad to see them so forlorn.
If they don't decorate them soon, I will.
The accounting department put up a tree a couple days ago, and completely bare (well, save for a silver star at the top), it sits.
They're starting to drive me crazy. I don't like Christmas decorations this early, but naked Christmas trees bother me. They look so exposed, so lonely. Fill them with glass balls, wrap them in garland and tinsel, brighten them with little twinkle lights, just do something! Make them alive! It makes me so sad to see them so forlorn.
If they don't decorate them soon, I will.
A trip to the grocery store
One egg left, 4 slices of bread, no juice. Happiest of joys when, with a mouthful of peanut butter, I opened the fridge door and discovered I *did* have one glass of milk left. The milk's only friends were the egg, a block of Montasio cheese, 4 little containers of yogurt, my Britta of water (how odd that for so many years, Britta was my Cabbage Patch Doll, and now it's my source of water), one stalk of celery, and about 125 mL of beef broth.
Time to go to the grocery store.
Head to the deli counter. And get the deli woman who hates me. And I don't even know why. But she's always trying to be finished with me before I'm done. I think I confuse her somehow, but I'm not sure how "half a pound of mediterranean chicken breast" does that. Tonight she doesn't even seem to want to serve me. She tries to help other people first - luckily the nice lady points out I was waiting longer.
Mmmm cheese - special treat this week - havarti for sandwiches.
Ooh cookies! Still no chocolate butterscotch chip (which is still a good thing - for my hips, and thighs, and waist). But where are the chocolate chip? Oatmeal, oatmeal raisin, oatmeal chocolate chip (who the heck eats all this oatmeal?!) But no chocolate! Oh, there they are. But only in the 1 kg box!! An evil conspiracy launched by the bakeries of the world to make me fail! EVIL BAKING COMPANIES! Oh wait, what's that? Oh, there's a small box. Okay.
Bread. Flax? Nah. Oat bran! On sale! Oh wait, it was the oat bran I decided I didn't like. (No wait, it occurs to me just this minute it was the Prairie Bran) Oat 'n' Honey! On sale! Yay!
Hey look! A guy from work! Constantly seeing people at work at the grocery store. Note to self: beware of buying personal items here.
Buy mushrooms in loose bulk. That way, can choose how many we want. Saves another "look how furry mold can be!" experiment like last week.
Where is the couscous? Where *is* the couscous? WHERE IS THE COUSCOUS?!?!?!?! Three months and still haven't found the couscous. May have to break down and actually ask.
No peanut butter this week. Peanut butter is becoming like the cream cheese. Not until you learn how to control yourself.
Mmmm Kraft dinner. Remember when KD was 99 cents? And now it's $1.07. When did that happen? And what am I, 75? To even be thinking that?
Ooh!!! Matzo ball soup! Have wanted to try matzo ball soup for weeks, if not months now! We will make matzo ball soup!! But you know nothing about matzo ball soup. Doesn't matter! We will make matzo ball soup!! From a box mix? We will try anyway!!! Should also make for a good coronary when mother comes to visit and finds matzo ball soup mix in the cupboard. Yes mother, I'm converting.
How can there be matzo ball soup mix in a box and no couscous?
Cranberry Almond Crunch cereal. So good. But so expensive. Will stick to Raisin Bran Crunch and leave the gourmet cereals to my sister. I will save my reckless spending for shoes.
Marvel at the Green Giant frozen fruit and veggie empire.
At the checkout - are those cases of wine on sale? Why yes, yes they are. Purchase a case of red (Cabernet Merlot) and white (Sauvignon Blanc), and fall for the impulse buy at the counter - seduced by the promise it is Beaujolais-like even though last time I tried a Gamay I didn't really care for it. Checkout girl mentions she's never had anyone buy an entire case before, so she never thinks to speak up about them. I don't understand. People go to the grocery and don't return home with 25 bottles of wine?
Back home. Unpack. So excited about my orange juice.
Time to go to the grocery store.
Head to the deli counter. And get the deli woman who hates me. And I don't even know why. But she's always trying to be finished with me before I'm done. I think I confuse her somehow, but I'm not sure how "half a pound of mediterranean chicken breast" does that. Tonight she doesn't even seem to want to serve me. She tries to help other people first - luckily the nice lady points out I was waiting longer.
Mmmm cheese - special treat this week - havarti for sandwiches.
Ooh cookies! Still no chocolate butterscotch chip (which is still a good thing - for my hips, and thighs, and waist). But where are the chocolate chip? Oatmeal, oatmeal raisin, oatmeal chocolate chip (who the heck eats all this oatmeal?!) But no chocolate! Oh, there they are. But only in the 1 kg box!! An evil conspiracy launched by the bakeries of the world to make me fail! EVIL BAKING COMPANIES! Oh wait, what's that? Oh, there's a small box. Okay.
Bread. Flax? Nah. Oat bran! On sale! Oh wait, it was the oat bran I decided I didn't like. (No wait, it occurs to me just this minute it was the Prairie Bran) Oat 'n' Honey! On sale! Yay!
Hey look! A guy from work! Constantly seeing people at work at the grocery store. Note to self: beware of buying personal items here.
Buy mushrooms in loose bulk. That way, can choose how many we want. Saves another "look how furry mold can be!" experiment like last week.
Where is the couscous? Where *is* the couscous? WHERE IS THE COUSCOUS?!?!?!?! Three months and still haven't found the couscous. May have to break down and actually ask.
No peanut butter this week. Peanut butter is becoming like the cream cheese. Not until you learn how to control yourself.
Mmmm Kraft dinner. Remember when KD was 99 cents? And now it's $1.07. When did that happen? And what am I, 75? To even be thinking that?
Ooh!!! Matzo ball soup! Have wanted to try matzo ball soup for weeks, if not months now! We will make matzo ball soup!! But you know nothing about matzo ball soup. Doesn't matter! We will make matzo ball soup!! From a box mix? We will try anyway!!! Should also make for a good coronary when mother comes to visit and finds matzo ball soup mix in the cupboard. Yes mother, I'm converting.
How can there be matzo ball soup mix in a box and no couscous?
Cranberry Almond Crunch cereal. So good. But so expensive. Will stick to Raisin Bran Crunch and leave the gourmet cereals to my sister. I will save my reckless spending for shoes.
Marvel at the Green Giant frozen fruit and veggie empire.
At the checkout - are those cases of wine on sale? Why yes, yes they are. Purchase a case of red (Cabernet Merlot) and white (Sauvignon Blanc), and fall for the impulse buy at the counter - seduced by the promise it is Beaujolais-like even though last time I tried a Gamay I didn't really care for it. Checkout girl mentions she's never had anyone buy an entire case before, so she never thinks to speak up about them. I don't understand. People go to the grocery and don't return home with 25 bottles of wine?
Back home. Unpack. So excited about my orange juice.
Signs you're doing a lousy job keeping up with your friends
Email #1 (in reply to my inquiry as to plans for an upcoming weekend)
"... blah blah blah mom recovering from surgery blah blah..."
surgery?!?!
Email #2
"She's feeling better so now she can focus on the lawsuit."
lawsuit?!?!?!
I'm thinking I should head over to that telephone-like device and learn how to dial.
I'm such a bad friend.
(though I did inform her of the impending Jamie Oliver visit!)
"... blah blah blah mom recovering from surgery blah blah..."
surgery?!?!
Email #2
"She's feeling better so now she can focus on the lawsuit."
lawsuit?!?!?!
I'm thinking I should head over to that telephone-like device and learn how to dial.
I'm such a bad friend.
(though I did inform her of the impending Jamie Oliver visit!)
November 12, 2004
Completely opposite ends of the spectrum
I'm signed up for one of those cheesy Quotes of the Day things, and today this quote appeared:
Henry David Thoreau
"Beware of all enterprises that require new clothes."
And at first I went "heh". And then I thought about it for a moment. Taking the words just at face value, I realized how I live at completely the opposite end of the spectrum as Mr. Thoreau. Not only do I not "beware of all enterprises that require new clothes", I make new clothes a part of *every* enterprise in my life - big or small. I often make a point of buying something new for a new occasion or outing; getting new trip-specific gear; heck, I was even at a cheesy accessory store and found the perfect jingle bell headband for a night of Christmas carolling that is being planned for December, and will be returning to purchase it as soon as I decide if I want that one or the one that looks like green and red and silver pompoms protruding from the headband.
Instead of being cautious about something that requires new clothes, I buy new clothes for almost everything, to prepare myself for jumping into it. I wonder what Mr. Thoreau would think of that.
Henry David Thoreau
"Beware of all enterprises that require new clothes."
And at first I went "heh". And then I thought about it for a moment. Taking the words just at face value, I realized how I live at completely the opposite end of the spectrum as Mr. Thoreau. Not only do I not "beware of all enterprises that require new clothes", I make new clothes a part of *every* enterprise in my life - big or small. I often make a point of buying something new for a new occasion or outing; getting new trip-specific gear; heck, I was even at a cheesy accessory store and found the perfect jingle bell headband for a night of Christmas carolling that is being planned for December, and will be returning to purchase it as soon as I decide if I want that one or the one that looks like green and red and silver pompoms protruding from the headband.
Instead of being cautious about something that requires new clothes, I buy new clothes for almost everything, to prepare myself for jumping into it. I wonder what Mr. Thoreau would think of that.
November 07, 2004
I think I need to plant a herb garden - before I get thrown in jail
As I left church this morning, I was walking on the sidewalk between the church and the parish hall. I happened to look at the small garden on the side of the hall and went "oooh!!!! fresh sage! I should grab some of that!" Wtf?! I'm considering taking sage from the church herb garden?! What's next? Sneaking onto a nearby farm at night to milk a cow?!
November 06, 2004
Punkeydoodles Corners and so much more.
A couple months ago, while looking at a map of the surrounding area, I saw a place called Punkeydoodles Corners. With a name like that, I knew I had to visit. When I woke up and saw the sun shining this morning, I knew today was Punkeydoodles Day.
Punkeydoodles Corner
Armed with something resembling a map, I set out for this mysterious place. In my mind, I had decided Punkeydoodles Corner was at the intersection of two roads, and consisted of a combination gas station/convenience store - maybe with a little cafe - and one or two other buildings, all on opposite corners of this intersection.
I turned down the road that would lead to Punkeydoodles Corner. I drove, keeping my eyes peeled for the sign that would tell me I had arrived. The road took a rather sharp veer to the right. I noticed the number of the road had changed, and, as farm after farm rolled past me, I realized that, somehow, I had missed Punkeydoodles Corner. I turned around and headed back. At the sharp veer, I took a different fork in the road. I looked at the name of the road. I was now on Punkeydoodles Ave, which consists of one house on the left, and two on the right (when heading east). Seeing a sign, with an arrow, for a Mennonite Church, I thought that maybe this was the "outskirts" of Punkeydoodles and took another right, hoping to find the Corner itself. A handful of cute farmhouses on both sides of the road. Nothing more. Punkeydoodles Corner is just an area containing several houses. No store. No gas station. No sign. There isn't even an actual, proper, corner. It's more of a junction really. Those 8-10 houses *are* Punkeydoodles Corner. I didn't really know what to think.
I kept driving. The road ended. To the right was a dirt road, to the left, it was paved. I went paved. (Sometimes, the road less travelled is less travelled for a reason. Besides, having the navigational skills of a blind peanut, this impulsive left turn was already quite bold for me) It was a very pretty little drive on what turns out is a heritage road - full of old farmhouses right near the road, and lots of tree-lined drives (all streets should be tree-lined). I saw from my map I was approaching a town named Haysville so I decided to check it out.
Haysville
Haysville sort of turned me off immediately because they try to guilt trip you into not speeding. "The children of Haysville ask you to keep to the speed limit." Really? I'm thinking the children of Haysville don't really care. When you were 8, did you think "ooh, that person is driving too fast!"? Thinking back, I didn't even *see* any children in Haysville. Haysville is quite a bit larger than Punkeydoodles Corner. By that I mean it has over 20 houses, a small community centre and a day care. Though, I didn't see any place to buy milk. (Seriously - where do these people get supplies?). There is also a place that's for sale if you want to live in Haysville. It is a cute little area.
Having been to Haysville, and having sorted out this Punkeydoodles Corner thing as best as I was going to be able to, I decided to head home - not an uneventful trip itself. As I was driving I passed by a telephone pole with a "For Sale" sign attached to it. At the top of the telephone pole (which has no wires attached to it) is a little red wagon. There is a house set way, way back from the road. I can only guess someone in that house makes these wagons, and this is their way of advertising, while ensuring no one disappears with the sample wagon. Still, it throws one off a bit, this red wagon sitting so high in the sky.
The Best Little Pork Shoppe
On my way out to Punkeydoodles Corner, I had seen the pork shoppe. On my way back, I was able to get a closer look, and decided that I had to check out a place called The Pork Shoppe (the "Best Little" is really small and I didn't see it until I had parked). The Pork Shoppe is full of pig-related knick knacks. It also has a rather sizable collection of cow- and sheep-related knick knacks for a place called The Pork Shoppe. While the knick knacks seem to be taking over, they actually do have pork for sale at The Pork Shoppe. I bought some pork schnitzel which was quite yummy, even if I did overcook it a bit. When I got home and was looking at my Pork Shoppe flyer, I realized I will have to return. Somehow, I missed the 10 ft pig! I need a picture with the pig!
The Antiques Store - a mystery solved
The last stop on my list for the day was the Antique Warehouse. Wandering through the store, I turned a corner and found what I had been looking for all day! A Punkeydoodles Corner sign! The lack of sign had been bothering me the whole time, and here it was! At the store, nailed to a shelving unit. Finally I felt at peace.
Did a Google search on Punkeydoodles Corner when I got home. Turns out I wasn't the only one interested in the sign. From one site: "Until recently, the north end of [Huron Road] was called Punkeydoodles Corners but it was changed to Punkeydoodle Avenue after people kept stealing the amusing road sign!"
And how did it get its name?
"Punkeydoodles’s Corner, ca. 1960. The Record Photo Collection, University of Waterloo.
Known more for its quaint name than for any significant settlement, Punkeydoodles Corners in Wilmot Township was a tiny hamlet situated where Oxford and Perth Counties intersect with Waterloo County. The Huron Road passed through this locale which, in the late nineteenth century, had a blacksmith shop and a tavern where it was said that the German tavern keeper sang his version of “Yankee Doodle” which came out sounding like “Punkey Doodle”; hence the fanciful name."
With a name like Punkeydoodles Corner, how could you *not* want to live there?
Punkeydoodles Corner
Armed with something resembling a map, I set out for this mysterious place. In my mind, I had decided Punkeydoodles Corner was at the intersection of two roads, and consisted of a combination gas station/convenience store - maybe with a little cafe - and one or two other buildings, all on opposite corners of this intersection.
I turned down the road that would lead to Punkeydoodles Corner. I drove, keeping my eyes peeled for the sign that would tell me I had arrived. The road took a rather sharp veer to the right. I noticed the number of the road had changed, and, as farm after farm rolled past me, I realized that, somehow, I had missed Punkeydoodles Corner. I turned around and headed back. At the sharp veer, I took a different fork in the road. I looked at the name of the road. I was now on Punkeydoodles Ave, which consists of one house on the left, and two on the right (when heading east). Seeing a sign, with an arrow, for a Mennonite Church, I thought that maybe this was the "outskirts" of Punkeydoodles and took another right, hoping to find the Corner itself. A handful of cute farmhouses on both sides of the road. Nothing more. Punkeydoodles Corner is just an area containing several houses. No store. No gas station. No sign. There isn't even an actual, proper, corner. It's more of a junction really. Those 8-10 houses *are* Punkeydoodles Corner. I didn't really know what to think.
I kept driving. The road ended. To the right was a dirt road, to the left, it was paved. I went paved. (Sometimes, the road less travelled is less travelled for a reason. Besides, having the navigational skills of a blind peanut, this impulsive left turn was already quite bold for me) It was a very pretty little drive on what turns out is a heritage road - full of old farmhouses right near the road, and lots of tree-lined drives (all streets should be tree-lined). I saw from my map I was approaching a town named Haysville so I decided to check it out.
Haysville
Haysville sort of turned me off immediately because they try to guilt trip you into not speeding. "The children of Haysville ask you to keep to the speed limit." Really? I'm thinking the children of Haysville don't really care. When you were 8, did you think "ooh, that person is driving too fast!"? Thinking back, I didn't even *see* any children in Haysville. Haysville is quite a bit larger than Punkeydoodles Corner. By that I mean it has over 20 houses, a small community centre and a day care. Though, I didn't see any place to buy milk. (Seriously - where do these people get supplies?). There is also a place that's for sale if you want to live in Haysville. It is a cute little area.
Having been to Haysville, and having sorted out this Punkeydoodles Corner thing as best as I was going to be able to, I decided to head home - not an uneventful trip itself. As I was driving I passed by a telephone pole with a "For Sale" sign attached to it. At the top of the telephone pole (which has no wires attached to it) is a little red wagon. There is a house set way, way back from the road. I can only guess someone in that house makes these wagons, and this is their way of advertising, while ensuring no one disappears with the sample wagon. Still, it throws one off a bit, this red wagon sitting so high in the sky.
The Best Little Pork Shoppe
On my way out to Punkeydoodles Corner, I had seen the pork shoppe. On my way back, I was able to get a closer look, and decided that I had to check out a place called The Pork Shoppe (the "Best Little" is really small and I didn't see it until I had parked). The Pork Shoppe is full of pig-related knick knacks. It also has a rather sizable collection of cow- and sheep-related knick knacks for a place called The Pork Shoppe. While the knick knacks seem to be taking over, they actually do have pork for sale at The Pork Shoppe. I bought some pork schnitzel which was quite yummy, even if I did overcook it a bit. When I got home and was looking at my Pork Shoppe flyer, I realized I will have to return. Somehow, I missed the 10 ft pig! I need a picture with the pig!
The Antiques Store - a mystery solved
The last stop on my list for the day was the Antique Warehouse. Wandering through the store, I turned a corner and found what I had been looking for all day! A Punkeydoodles Corner sign! The lack of sign had been bothering me the whole time, and here it was! At the store, nailed to a shelving unit. Finally I felt at peace.
Did a Google search on Punkeydoodles Corner when I got home. Turns out I wasn't the only one interested in the sign. From one site: "Until recently, the north end of [Huron Road] was called Punkeydoodles Corners but it was changed to Punkeydoodle Avenue after people kept stealing the amusing road sign!"
And how did it get its name?
"Punkeydoodles’s Corner, ca. 1960. The Record Photo Collection, University of Waterloo.
Known more for its quaint name than for any significant settlement, Punkeydoodles Corners in Wilmot Township was a tiny hamlet situated where Oxford and Perth Counties intersect with Waterloo County. The Huron Road passed through this locale which, in the late nineteenth century, had a blacksmith shop and a tavern where it was said that the German tavern keeper sang his version of “Yankee Doodle” which came out sounding like “Punkey Doodle”; hence the fanciful name."
With a name like Punkeydoodles Corner, how could you *not* want to live there?
What do I do about the crumbs?
It's funny to see how apartment living is different than house living in ways I never really thought about. Like the pj/lobby/newspaper issue, the fact that I can take out my garbage *any* day of the week, and now, the tablecloth issue.
My parents were here for dinner a couple nights ago, so we actually ate at the dinner table. Tablecloth and everything. As I was cleaning up after dinner, I wrapped up the tablecloth and realized I can't really go outside and shake it out. Because the people below me are on the ground floor, their patio extends further than my balcony. If I shake things out off the balcony, as I discovered the time I decided to shake out my broom off the balcony :p, I shower their planters and some of their patio, with crumbs, lint, etc. So that's not really a neighbourly option.
As I was trying to shake out the tablecloth into the sink, something occurred to me. Aside from just being slightly inconvenienced by this lack of "outside shaking", I was actually going to miss shaking the tablecloth outside. It was always a task I actually enjoyed. When I was little, I would hold the tablecloth behind me, pretending it was a cape, and run down the backyard and back. As I grew older, and life got busier and busier, it was a guaranteed moment of calm in an otherwise hectic day. Because you were doing a chore, you didn't have to feel guilty for not working on something else. Spending so much time indoors, it was also an almost daily reminder of how nice it was to get outdoors - whether it was a moment of listening to the insects as the sun set in the summer, or looking up at the bright stars in the dark sky and feeling the cold on my skin during the winter. Stealing that moment of silence is what I'm going to miss most.
Now I have to figure out some other way to force myself onto my balcony at night. It's just so easy to forget to do. And yet, it's a moment I love so much.
My parents were here for dinner a couple nights ago, so we actually ate at the dinner table. Tablecloth and everything. As I was cleaning up after dinner, I wrapped up the tablecloth and realized I can't really go outside and shake it out. Because the people below me are on the ground floor, their patio extends further than my balcony. If I shake things out off the balcony, as I discovered the time I decided to shake out my broom off the balcony :p, I shower their planters and some of their patio, with crumbs, lint, etc. So that's not really a neighbourly option.
As I was trying to shake out the tablecloth into the sink, something occurred to me. Aside from just being slightly inconvenienced by this lack of "outside shaking", I was actually going to miss shaking the tablecloth outside. It was always a task I actually enjoyed. When I was little, I would hold the tablecloth behind me, pretending it was a cape, and run down the backyard and back. As I grew older, and life got busier and busier, it was a guaranteed moment of calm in an otherwise hectic day. Because you were doing a chore, you didn't have to feel guilty for not working on something else. Spending so much time indoors, it was also an almost daily reminder of how nice it was to get outdoors - whether it was a moment of listening to the insects as the sun set in the summer, or looking up at the bright stars in the dark sky and feeling the cold on my skin during the winter. Stealing that moment of silence is what I'm going to miss most.
Now I have to figure out some other way to force myself onto my balcony at night. It's just so easy to forget to do. And yet, it's a moment I love so much.
Lunch by the river... or not
Last week, after about 10 days of being sick, and so, completely cooped up after work, I was starting to get cabin fever. So, on a sunny day, I decided to go down to the river for lunch. There was a chess table right by the water. I sat down and started to pull out my lunch. A seagull came over. Then another. I told them "No". Two ducks started walking over towards me, and I firmly resolved to ignore them. I started to unwrap my burger. I looked up and saw a big black swan, with a bright red beak, moving toward me. I figured I could just ignore him too. I started to take a bite, but noticed he was still walking toward me, and was only a foot or two away. His head and neck were all bent down and all I could see was the huge beak. He looked so mean, I started to get nervous. Stories of territorial swans and geese started swirling through my mind. I didn't have the fight in me. Much to the amusement of the women sitting on the nearby bench, I packed up my lunch and abandoned the table (and the stalking birds).
I walked up the bank, closer to the road, away from the birds, and ate my lunch there. So I did technically get to eat by the water. But still, I feel like the birds got the better of me. I don't know how many more nice days we'll have, but come next spring, I will be back! And next time, I will win!
I walked up the bank, closer to the road, away from the birds, and ate my lunch there. So I did technically get to eat by the water. But still, I feel like the birds got the better of me. I don't know how many more nice days we'll have, but come next spring, I will be back! And next time, I will win!
Cute quiz!
Oh my, I'm about to become one of those people who posts quizzes in their blog. Someone, please save me from my own geekiness now.
Anyway, I really liked this quiz - and though I had difficulties with some of the answers (and really, how sad is it that I make a long distance call to my sister to get her opinion on whether I'm more like Monica from Friend or Charlotte from Sex & the City), it worked out pretty perfectly. Especially the bit about how I don't go name brand because it's name brand, but because I actually notice the difference. And, I had to laugh at the bit about the KitchenAid stand mixer, the Silpat and the foie gras from France, because I dream about the first two and have brought back food items from foreign countries (still dreaming about that Drumgray? Drumgary? from Scotland).
Anyway, check it out. And post your results here! (Cuz I'm that nosy)
First we eat, then we do everything else.
-- MFK Fisher
The Gourmet Girl is a Foodie with a capital F. All her activities seem to revolve around food, even when she's on vacation. She'd prefer to be mushroom hunting, sampling the wine country, or making a culinary tour of the South of France with the Michelin restaurant guide tucked under her arm. Or she might just rent a villa and spend the entire time in the kitchen, cooking elaborate dinners for friends and family.
Here's the key to the Gourmet Girl: she's a connoisseur. She appreciates the finer things, and she'll gladly pay more for them. She will shell out $1.59 for a blood orange instead of 69 cents for the navel variety, and it's not because they are fancier and more expensive. She doesn't care about status or prestige. For the Gourmet Girl, it's all about quality. She selects cars and clothes -- anything she buys -- based on how well they are made. While the Uptown Girl may sleep on high-thread-count, all-cotton sheets simply because she always has, the Gourmet Girl does it because, like The Princess and the Pea, she can feel the difference.
She Might Be a Gourmet Girl if:
She drives: a practical car, often higher end. Japanese or European, but always highly rated (Gourmet Girls do their research). Volvo, Volkswagen, Honda, etc.
She can talk for more than ten minutes about: The difference between a California chardonnay and a French sauvignon blanc.
She begins her sentences with: "Jeffrey Steingarten says..."
She'd never: drink wine out of a box.
She owns any of the following: Kitchen Aid mixer, a complete set of All Clad pots and pans, Silpat baking mats, tins of foie gras she brought back from France.
Anyway, I really liked this quiz - and though I had difficulties with some of the answers (and really, how sad is it that I make a long distance call to my sister to get her opinion on whether I'm more like Monica from Friend or Charlotte from Sex & the City), it worked out pretty perfectly. Especially the bit about how I don't go name brand because it's name brand, but because I actually notice the difference. And, I had to laugh at the bit about the KitchenAid stand mixer, the Silpat and the foie gras from France, because I dream about the first two and have brought back food items from foreign countries (still dreaming about that Drumgray? Drumgary? from Scotland).
Anyway, check it out. And post your results here! (Cuz I'm that nosy)
I am Gourmet Girl
Click on the picture below to read more:
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First we eat, then we do everything else.
-- MFK Fisher
The Gourmet Girl is a Foodie with a capital F. All her activities seem to revolve around food, even when she's on vacation. She'd prefer to be mushroom hunting, sampling the wine country, or making a culinary tour of the South of France with the Michelin restaurant guide tucked under her arm. Or she might just rent a villa and spend the entire time in the kitchen, cooking elaborate dinners for friends and family.
Here's the key to the Gourmet Girl: she's a connoisseur. She appreciates the finer things, and she'll gladly pay more for them. She will shell out $1.59 for a blood orange instead of 69 cents for the navel variety, and it's not because they are fancier and more expensive. She doesn't care about status or prestige. For the Gourmet Girl, it's all about quality. She selects cars and clothes -- anything she buys -- based on how well they are made. While the Uptown Girl may sleep on high-thread-count, all-cotton sheets simply because she always has, the Gourmet Girl does it because, like The Princess and the Pea, she can feel the difference.
She Might Be a Gourmet Girl if:
She drives: a practical car, often higher end. Japanese or European, but always highly rated (Gourmet Girls do their research). Volvo, Volkswagen, Honda, etc.
She can talk for more than ten minutes about: The difference between a California chardonnay and a French sauvignon blanc.
She begins her sentences with: "Jeffrey Steingarten says..."
She'd never: drink wine out of a box.
She owns any of the following: Kitchen Aid mixer, a complete set of All Clad pots and pans, Silpat baking mats, tins of foie gras she brought back from France.
November 02, 2004
Model year 2157
We're launching a new line at work and we were building samples to send to the customer. As I was numbering the parts I started thinking about the timeline to launch a new car. Time for design, finding suppliers, supplier design, supplier startup, oem (original equipment manufacturer) startup... Then I started thinking about the designers. Right now my job is about 1/3 right now, 1/3 within a month or two and 1/3 next summer/late next year. But vehicle designers work years in advance. They're never dealing with now. While it would be exciting to see and be a part of what's coming down the pipeline, it also made me wonder.
So many of the keys to happiness seem to involve living, as in, actually actively *being* and *participating* in the present - not clinging to or fixating on the past, not obsessing about the future. I know working isn't living, but if you spend all your time thinking, planning, working on 3 years from now, not seeing the fruits of your labour for years, forever looking to the future, and never really having to focus on right now, does it have some sort of impact? Can you spend all day, every (work) day thinking about 2007, and switch back to 2004 at the end of the day without missing a beat? If you're spending over a third of your life 3-4 years ahead of yourself, are you somehow losing a part of those 3-4 years of your life? Is it kind of similar to how wishing for the weekend to come is like wishing away days of your life?
I doubt it's that complicated. It's probably just a job/career - and a potentially exciting/interesting one at that. But, still, I wonder...
So many of the keys to happiness seem to involve living, as in, actually actively *being* and *participating* in the present - not clinging to or fixating on the past, not obsessing about the future. I know working isn't living, but if you spend all your time thinking, planning, working on 3 years from now, not seeing the fruits of your labour for years, forever looking to the future, and never really having to focus on right now, does it have some sort of impact? Can you spend all day, every (work) day thinking about 2007, and switch back to 2004 at the end of the day without missing a beat? If you're spending over a third of your life 3-4 years ahead of yourself, are you somehow losing a part of those 3-4 years of your life? Is it kind of similar to how wishing for the weekend to come is like wishing away days of your life?
I doubt it's that complicated. It's probably just a job/career - and a potentially exciting/interesting one at that. But, still, I wonder...
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