Christmas is a comin’ and the goose is gettin’ fat

Oh my goodness, my blogligence is shameful these days. Although to be fair, I don’t have internet access at home so I’m mooching off the goodness of others. So sometimes when I feel the urge to blog, I just don’t feel like going in search of a connection.
So far the Christmas season has been great for me and my business – ’tis the season for concerts, craft shows, and custom orders! I’ve also been doing some voice-over work for the local radio station, CD98.9, which was great fun and I’ll be doing more of it (with the hope that it will lead to a job, maybe, sometime in the near future?).
I’ve been ramping up production at reFurbished and I made the decision to show most of my best stuff at the Norfolk Arts Centre where they are featuring local artisans in their Made in Norfolk show which runs til December 22nd. So I have to really get my act together to have enough for a Christmas Bazaar next Tuesday at Holy Trinity Catholic High School in Simcoe.
I had several customers come by yesterday to place and pick up orders. A lovely couple from Brantford brought the most gorgeous wolf coats I have ever laid my hands on, I can hardly bear to cut them – but they want a big throw, so that’s what they’ll get. I debated momentarily the ramifications of running away up north with those coats…but no.
This weekend is the first Handel’s Messiah of the season for me, in Cambridge. We toss around the arias like a hot potato, so one night I’ll have “He shall feed his flock” and the next night someone else will. It’s the best way to keep it fresh; I’ve been singing Messiah for 18 years and every now and then I think I’ve done it enough!
Other than that, there’s baking to be done (my parents and I helped a friend pick apples a few weeks ago and there are a thousand Spy and McIntosh waiting in the workshop for some attention), theatre to attend – Pumpernickel Junction at Old Town Hall, Little Shop of Horrors at Simcoe Little Theatre – and various and sundry Christmas concerts to prepare.
Is it too early to start planning for 2011? Because I have a LOT of ideas….

The newest selection of brown & blue bags from RE:PLAY BAGS

hallowe’en on the farm

Is there anything more deliciously fall-like than baking and carving pumpkins out on the farm? Saturday was a beautiful day – I stopped in to pick up some fresh eggs from KB & the family, stayed for tea, and ended up there for dinner, baking pies, pumpkin carving, and a movie. KB made some pretty amazing theme foods for dinner – mummy meatloaf, and mac&cheese swamp monsters. I contributed a fresh apple pie and crumble.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

I know I’m not blogging nearly enough and when I do, I’m not writing much. Christmas is coming and I’m trying to really ramp up sales – this is the season for fur, and I have to take advantage of it. I’ve finally updated my online store at Etsy and am in the process of updating my website. I think all the pieces are about to fall into place, but it hasn’t quite clicked yet…fingers crossed for sales this weekend at definitely.not.the.mall at the Old Town Hall!

Living Pink through Fashion

I went back to the city last week to participate in an incredible fundraiser for Breast Cancer research: Living Pink through Fashion. The show was organized and produced by Karen Smith (Beauty in Motion) and Kimberly Turner-Edwards (K Turn Around Jewelery), and was held at Hamilton Place.
I was thrilled to have the opportunity to walk the runway as well as show a few pieces from my Living Pink line of handbags. Here is gorgeous model Andrene Parris showing my Valentine bag.

Valentine Bag

Settling into life in Norfolk County continues to be a joy and a struggle. I have everything I ever wanted…except a regular paycheque. We’re coming up to the best season for me in terms of reFurbished sales and concert performances, but October is proving to be a bit of a stumbling block. So I’m putting my nose to the grindstone and determined to produce as many pieces as I can before my first artisan show of the season (Definitely Not the Mall, Old Town Hall, Waterford, November 6 & 7).
This week the Norfolk County Fair is running in Simcoe, so of course it is raining cats and dogs. I believe it’s part of the tradition: the Tuesday is School Day, every student in the county has the day off school to go cheer their teams on, and it’s cold and rainy all day. I remember very clearly the feeling of going home and changing into warm dry clothes, to spend the rest of the day in front of the woodstove.
I don’t think I’ll go to the fair this year…maybe next time, if the sun comes out.

walks in the country

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

My lovely friend KB has two rambunctious boys, and sometimes it’s just easier to take them walking with us than to leave them home with her hubby. In this case, poor BB had been knocked out of commission by a bizarre tree allergy, so leaving the kids at home wasn’t an option. There are beautiful places to walk around their farm (once you get off the main road) and I managed to capture some images before my camera ran out of room. Note to self, remember to put memory card in camera before going out into the world.
It was surprisingly chilly for the first week of September, but perfect for an evening walk around the farm and neighbouring properties. The frame of an old stone house still stands in bits and pieces at the edge of the field, and the Collver/Culver family cemetery is close by, so we took some time to read inscriptions before heading back. There are few things more comforting than a hot cup of tea after being out in the chilly air.
The next morning on my way to work I stopped for pictures of the pumpkin patches in the morning light. I can’t capture it on my inadequate camera, but it’s a vision of orange for miles, from the road to the horizon. Waterford is home to Pumpkinfest: every October tens of thousands of tourists pour into our tiny town to wallow in our enthusiasm for giant squash. We take our pumpkins seriously around here because after all, The Great Pumpkin knows all and sees all…
And because my blog wouldn’t be complete without a reference to food, I will mention that CS invited me over last night to make cinnamon buns. To be fair, I didn’t do much other than help with the consumption, but I like to think of my contribution as “quality control”.

I’ve been looking for work close to home, and I thought I’d found a good solution at a tree nursery on the road where I grew up. One of the benefits of a small town is finding out through the grapevine if a potential employer is reputable. In this case, my landlord gave me the heads up that this particular individual has a habit of not paying her workers. It’s not easy work, handling trees – and for minimum wage, one shouldn’t have to worry about whether or not they’ll actually get a paycheque at the end of the day. I can definitely find something better. Although I was excited about the prospect of honest work, I’m going to hold out for an honest employer.

martinis and mocktails

One of my big reasons for moving home was the discovery of a community of friends. It’s been a classic case of “Where have you been all my life?”. Turns out, the relationships I’ve been seeking for twenty years have been waiting quietly for me to come back.
After a long week and an afternoon of canning, I was ready for Martinis & Mocktails chez SHA/CA. The Fabulous Four were all in attendance (yours truly, CS, HC, and KB). The aim of the evening was to share signature drinks, and share we did: fresh mojitos, sangria, the newly christened blue martini “Wreck-Me-Em” and the HUZZAH!, which featured the truly amazing black raspberry liqueur Chambord.
CS and I later concurred that our downfall of the evening was the abundance of glorious cheese snacks. Havarti, Goat Cheese, Blue Cheese Tarts, Buffalo Chicken Wing dip, Three Cheese & Spinach dip…oof. And the piece de resistance, the pear crumble which contained no cheese but really couldn’t possibly be good for you.
Above the conversation we could hear the rain drumming on the sunporch roof. It was the perfect party: relaxed, casual, funny, and with a lot of cheese and drinks. What more could a countrymouse ask for?

pear-ing down

I’m having trouble keeping up with my blog! So many lovely and exciting things happen to me during a week that I hardly have time to sit down these days (and I am NOT complaining).
I spent a lot of time last week fretting about Charlie, who started having an anxiety attack last weekend when he heard fireworks, and then proceeded to panic all day and night for the next five days. After trying behavioural tricks, covering the windows, distracting him with a kong filled with peanut butter, and locking him in the wardrobe with white noise (none of these things worked in the least), I resorted to picking up a prescription from the vet for Valium. The first dose wasn’t as effective as I’d hoped, but after the second dose on Friday night, he was back to himself. Thank the gods: a week without sleep is not good for woman nor beast. I’m so happy to have my dog back!!

this is your dog on drugs

Saturday September 11: Canning Day #2
I needed to get through 20lbs of pears. Why did I buy half a bushel of pears? Why not, I say!
I now know that 20lbs of pears equals one pear crisp, 4 jars of sliced pears, 6 jars of pear chutney, 2.5 jars of pear cranberry chutney (or as I like to call it, cranpeary chutney), and 2lbz of frozen slices for future baking.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

I’m going to share with you my recipe for CranPeary Chutney. I didn’t make this one for canning, it’s for sharing with my friends over the next few weeks
3 cups diced peeled pears
1 cup dried cranberries
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup cider vinegar
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
1 onion, finely chopped
1 Tbsp fresh ginger, finely chopped
1 Tbsp mustard seeds
1/2 tsp ground coriander
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp ground pepper
Combine ingredients in saucepan and bring to boil. Reduce heat and simmer, stirring occasionally, for approximately 25 minutes, until thick enough to mound on spoon.

What do you do with chutney? Besides slathering it on meats and fish, my favourite is crostini with fresh goat cheese, topped by a generous helping of chutney.

I’m so lucky to live in farm country, where fresh produce is bountiful and affordable. And preserving it means when I get a craving for fruit this winter, I can just open my pantry and help myself!

My next round of baking is going to revolve around squash and potatoes. There’s a farm close to home that grows three kinds of sweet potato! Round Plains Plantations is owned and operated by Bob and Juli Proracki. I used to take swimming lessons with their son Jamie. That’s how it goes around here: everybody knows everybody somehow. Check out www.ontariosweetpotato.com.

After all that time in the kitchen, what I really needed was a party. Next blog, Martinis & Mocktails at SHA & CA’s with my girls!

another summer in the can

It’s been a very long couple of weeks! Two days after the move my neck and right shoulder seized up so badly that I had to call in sick to work, and forced myself to NOT unpack and organize my new home. And of course that was the one thing that I was absolutely desperate to do. By the weekend things had loosened up enough that I was back at the office and emptying boxes at the apartment, but my rapture at being nearly pain-free was shortlived. In my attempt to rescue Mom and Dad’s cat Purrwell from the bushes in the garden, I completely wrecked the other side of my neck and my left shoulder. Meanwhile I had been making steady progress with settling into my new home, spending lots of time with my lovely friends, and generally getting accustomed to being back in Smalltown world.
Saturday was cold and windy and not at all summery. CS, KB and I went for a fast walk, with hoods up, and when KB had to leave CS and I came up with the brilliant plan of making a pot of chili. This ranks among our best ideas EVER. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed a meal so much.

Sunday was errand day, with a trip to Dollarama and a few local produce stands to get the necessary ingredients for Canning Day (known to most as Labour Day).

Monday arrived blustery but with a hint of sunshine: it was going to be a good day for canning, followed by a barbecue in the garden with my beloved friends. MB & CB arrived around 11 with more fruits and vegetables and the canner, and we started prepping. For the record, the recommended method of peeling peaches is to boil them for a minute, then shock them with cold water, and the skins come off. Let me just say, the skins do not just come off. They cling tenaciously to the flesh, kicking and screaming, until you’re so mad you want to hurl peaches across the room. But we got through it. The first batch into the jars was sliced peaches in a simple syrup.

Next on the agenda, SALSA! Thank the gods for the food processor. Huge juicy tomatoes from the Judge’s fruit stand outside of town, green peppers from a “leave your money in the cash box honour system” fruit stand in Simcoe, fresh onions from the garden, and a couple of jalepenos and fresh cilantro from the store (I know, that last one defies the hundred-mile-rule. But salsa isn’t salsa without them!). The house smelled divine.

And finally, to use the rest of the tomatoes and the apples that I purchased at a local orchard, a tomato chutney. I had to make a trip to Foodland (open on Labour Day, thank the gods again!) for pickling spices and a Spanish onion. A new and untried recipe from the Company’s Coming Preserves book, the chutney turned out to be the surprise hit of the day.

All told, the three batches took probably four hours from start to finish.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

We called it a day and awaited the arrival of my barbecue guests. The sun officially came out just as CS & SP arrived with fresh watermelon, followed by HC & family who brought still-warm-from-the-oven rhubarb crisp. SP took over barbecue duty and we sat in my mom’s lovely garden, munching on snacks, until evening fell and the mosquitos began to help themselves. It being the last day before school started, my friends all had to leave at a respectable hour and I finished clean-up before taking Charlie out. CS called for a late-night stroll, which was exactly what I needed to finish unwinding from the long week, the long weekend, and the long day.
It’s the unofficial end of summer, and I can’t say I’m sorry about that. I’m so excited about autumn colours, cool evenings, falling leaves, and acorn squash. Not to mention corduroy, tweed, denim and plaid. My work room is finally set up and I’m ready to get back to creating before fall and winter craft shows kick into high gear.
And so, another season “in the can”…

Diary of a moving day

My life in a nutshell

Friday night: I am in pre-move freak-out zone, which means that instead of being my usual laid-back self, I am being a cranky, whiny cow. But a lovely surprise at mom and dad’s, my sister R and her sweet children have come down for the day, and the landlord comes by with the key to my new apartment. After a nice lasagna and salad, we take a load of stuff over from storage at mom and dad’s to the apartment, and I get my first look at the empty digs. R helps me unload and she and the kids head for home. I dig out a pair of gardening gloves and three pairs of shears to help me wage war the weeds that have taken over the house. After an hour of chopping, mangling, cursing and being showered in dirt, I concede defeat and retreat to mom and dad’s for a shower. Mom very thoughtfully makes me a cup of tea to calm me down. I go to bed at 9pm and sleep like a log.
MOVING DAY:
8:00am: I walk Charlie, and then leave him with Mom for the day. The drive to the city is quiet and uneventful but I’m jittery and crazed, convinced that my movers will have forgotten the date, or that everything won’t fit in the trailer, or someone will get a flat tire. My greatest paranoia is that a bag of my clothing will somehow escape the trailer and explode all over the highway, leaving a trail of underwear scattered on the 403.
10:00am: My dad, who is clearly the best dad in the world, arrives at the apartment with the truck and trailer.
10:01am: The maintenance guy and his three teenage sons arrive to move everything out of the apartment onto the trailer. Dad and I practice our mad Tetris skills and somehow fit my entire life into a single, three-layered load topped with carpet and futon mattress.
11:15am: Dad departs with the trailer and I finish cleaning the apartment, load up the cats in their carriers, and further exhibit my Tetris abilities by cramming the final contents of the apartment into my tiny hatchback Echo.
12:00pm: I remember to eat lunch and sit down for a few minutes (this is a first. Most moves involve my forgetting to eat, and subsequently bursting into tears in a hypoglycemic rage). The landlord comes to pick up the keys and wish me well.
12:15pm: At the other end, CS is doing some logistics work for me. Her husband SP, who is quite possibly the most generous and big-hearted guy I’ve ever met, has offered to help unload early, and the rest of the guys will be available around 5. I send the message that Dad and the trailer will arrive soon and that he can unload the truck and leave the trailer for when the rest of the crew get there.
1:15pm: An epic battle ensues. Snooty resists the carrier. It’s like trying to jam a weasel into a paper towel roll. Her feet, fully clawed, are out in all directions to keep her from being shoved in. Finally I prevail by grabbing her face and front legs, swearing loudly, and closing the door on my own hand. I brace myself for round two, but Angus accepts his fate with much more dignity; he walks over, I pick him up, he goes limp, and I drop him into his crate.
My camera battery dies and I am unable to capture the evidence on film, but drivers on the highway are treated to the sight of Snooty howling her head off while looking out the back window through the bars of her carrier.
2:15pm: I arrive at the new apartment to discover that SP has already unloaded the truck and half the trailer. He rejects my suggestion that he wait until more help arrives. I don’t argue. I send out the word that the trailer has arrived and anyone who’s available is welcome to come by. CS & SP’s daughter LS arrives to help, and suddenly there’s nothing left on the trailer except the couch, two shelving units, a dresser and the futon mattress. The cats are locked in the bathroom, to be released when the last of the furniture comes in.
3:00pm: SP and LS make a break for freedom and a shower, and the message comes in from HC and the family that they’ll be on their way after cleaning up from their yard sale. I let them know that there are only a few more pieces, but the kids are really keen to help, so once again, why would I argue?
5:00pm: HC, MC and the family arrive and SP comes back to carry up the last of the furniture. The girls want to help but there’s nothing left to do. I offer to let them scrub the stairs and they respond with enthusiasm, but there’s nothing left for the adults to do and it’s really damn hot, so HC and I conclude that it would be best for everyone if we pick up some pizzas and go for a swim at MC’s folks’ place.
5:20pm: The outside door is closed and the cats are set free. Snooty chooses to stay in the bathroom and yell angrily from behind the toilet, while Angus sits in the corner staring at the wall. By the time we’re ready to leave, they’re out prowling and yowling and sticking their faces in the food bowl. They don’t take long to adjust.
6:00pm: In the pool with a cold beer. My body doesn’t know what to do; after being disgusting and dirty and overheated all day, the water feels delicious but painful. I don’t know if I’m shivering from temperature shock or rapture. Stepping into clean clothes and sitting down to eat pizza is incredibly comforting. I spend a moment just relaxing and basking in a glow of warm fuzzies for my friends and my family. And then suddenly it’s time to get back to the apartment already, because the rest of my friends are all joining us for an informal housewarming.
7:30pm: I pick up Charlie at mom and dad’s and introduce him to the new house. He runs up the stairs, does a once-over, and goes back to sleep. He also doesn’t take long to adjust.
8:00pm: My wonderful, amazing friends arrive bearing bottles of wine. KB & BB have been out and on the road all day and send their regrets, but the living room and my heart are full to bursting. I’m exhausted but insanely content.
11ish: The party clears out and Charlie, the cats and I are left to ourselves. There’s some noise from Main Street, but the neighbours are quiet and I can’t hear anything from the bedroom. I am so grateful to crawl into bed and count my blessings from the day.

This is the first move I’ve made that didn’t involve me overdoing it, hurting myself, and crying. This is the first move I’ve made that had friends waiting for me at the end.

Thank you, to my Dad, my Mom, my sister, and my incredible, generous friends. There’s no question about it, this is the best move I’ve made. And now, the real adventure begins…

country countdown

The old apartment is packed up and my entire life (minus cats and dog) is in boxes and bags. The boys are coming tomorrow morning to load up the trailer and I’m on pins and needles waiting. I’m paranoid that everything won’t fit on the trailer, and that I’ll have to call for backup and my best-laid plans of a single trailer load and all non-box and non-furniture items will fall apart. I speak from personal experience. This is move #11 in fifteen years, and the first time that I’ve paid someone to help.

I would really like for this to be the one time when I can look back moving day and say, “That went smoothly” and “I didn’t hurt myself”. I even went as far as to buy a roasted chicken to put in the fridge so I’ll have something to eat while I’m scurrying about: I know from past experience that I will forget to eat most of the day, and then when I do remember I’ll grab the first thing I see in the fridge: hence the chicken; good protein to keep me from flipping out.

Scheduled for this afternoon: Charlie is going to stay with my folks while I get my hydro account set up and then either spend the night with them or drive back for one last night in the city. I’m inclined toward staying there. I’m done with the city. This has been the day of “This is the last time I’ll use this shower/walk this block/turn on this light/hear that jerk papillon dog next door at 6:30am/drive through the industrial end of town to get to work etc, etc, etc.”. It’s satisfying.

Every now and then I get a text from my lovely friends who will soon be my neighbours: countdowns, “HUZZAH!”s, and “I can’t wait” messages pop up and make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

This is the best move I’ve ever made.

24 hours and counting…

a day at the farm (and a bit by the side of the road!)

I had a wonderful weekend (of course) which started with a performance of Beethoven’s 9th Symphony and ended with a trip to the farm to visit my dear friend KB and her family. Most of the photos below are from the farm, but the llama the chestnut mare live on Deer Park Road: I saw them all while driving home from breakfast with my parents on Sunday morning and put my rubber boots on to go traipsing into the ditch. There were a lot of enormous spiders busily spinning and weaving in the tall grasses, and my camera is just good enough to catch the action without blurring. 
Horses in general are a stubborn subject and they tend to show nothing but rumpus as soon as the camera comes up, but my persistence paid off. I pretty much stalked them until I got what I wanted. 
I hope you enjoy the pictures! 

This slideshow requires JavaScript.