Wednesday, August 22, 2012


That word ("control!" shouted with gusto) always makes me think of my Dad.  I won't explain the reference, my family gets it, and that's good enough.

I've been think a lot about control - things I can't, things I can.  Right now, I know I'm really putting effort towards those things I can - mainly the house, and my health.  I'm focusing on taking care of both I guess - little improvements at the Bunkle as I chip away at the many things that need improving (I wonder when I will get around to to replacing the pane of glass in the kitchen window that has a 3/4" hole in it? 2014?), and little improvements in myself, as I focus on exercising more and eating better.  I'm starting to like both things a little bit more at the moment.  Much to my surprise, the closet downstairs has brought a great deal of calm to my life - disorganization stresses me out (a thought which will probably make anyone who has seen my office laugh - I am anything BUT naturally organized).  And the fact that I can now feel things that I believe are called triceps (I said feel, not see - we're nowhere near seeing, fear not), and get back into clothes that have been rejecting me for the past couple of years makes me feel like I'm doing some good for myself.  But I am well aware that this focus is in good part a way of dealing with all the things I can't change.  It's giving me the illusion of control, at least over something.  And I know that there is also joy in dealing with situations you can't control, but I'd really prefer not to right now.  But my tidy little life is very easy to control right now - it's my comfort zone.  It's selfish, I know that.  But I'm not ready to step out of that zone yet.  At least not until the chimney's redone, or the house is painted, or you can see my triceps, or something (ok the triceps thing will never happen so hopefully I won't be using that as a marker)

Canadian Gothic?

Gin, elderflower and cucumber.  So good.

Seared scallops with black quinoa and some foamy stuff - excellent (even the foamy stuff)
Responsible.  Or at least he's trying hard to be.

Bison carpaccio-induced happiness

Yes, she is singing...
In other news, my dear pals Martin & Maureen are out from Toronto for the week - Maureen is singing at the Cellar Friday and Saturday this week.  I'm looking forward to seeing her perform, it's been ages!  And it's been ages since the three of us have had a chance to catch up.  These two fed me many fantastic meals at their cute Toronto home when I lived in Ontario - they are both great cooks, and Maureen can make a killer pie blindfolded with one arm tied behind her back, singing a jazz standard or two while she does it.  And they have managed to raise two seriously gorgeous, seriously talented girls to boot.  So, last night we went out to Fraiche for a truly lovely meal.  Ostrich - NOM NOM! Who knew?! (other than cheetahs and lions I guess?)  The view is second to none, and the waiter was fantastic as well.  Then back to mine for some goat cheese ice cream with blueberry honey and toasted almonds (David Lebovitz you never fail me).  So great to see them both, and it just strengthens my resolve to take a bit of a TO holiday sooner rather than later.

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