This year, I got what I wanted!
Finally working on the invites. Actually the bulk of the work is done. I’ve been slow and sluggish working on things, but I want to get it right.
Other than that, I’m enjoying the summer, in a variety of ways. We went to my familys cottage last week, and yesterday we took a stroll down the street through little India looking for shawls for me and my bridesmaids. I dreamed of dressing like an extra in the Darjeeling Limited – and was nearly convinced to by a lady in a shop who told me: “everyone should wear sari!”
Then we got a snack from a street vendor – fresh grilled corn on the cob smothered in butter, lime juices and spices – amazing!
I would apologise for for the lack of reading material, but what are you doing inside reading this? Get out there, enjoy it too!
Honest Ed’s is a funny place. It makes me feel a combination of excitement and depression when I’m inside it.
It’s so old fashioned with it’s flashing lights, it’s antique entertainers eight by tens, and hand painted signage. There’s the smell of cheap, Chinese plastic, thick in the air – obviously toxic.
But then I find certified organic shampoo for sale, and all is forgiven.
You can’t go in expecting to find exactly what you want, but often you’ll find something you need anyway.
We’re sitting in a friend’s shady, cool backyard, with a couple of beers, and their dog who we just tuckered out – pretty much completely.
It’s a fancier part of the Annex, bordering on Yorkville and it’s fun to imagine living in one of the beautiul old victorian mansions somday, ripping out the walls and finding treasures and secrets burried inside.
Despite the rather European calliber of strikes in this fair city, it’s been a swell summer so far, and I’m willing to bet it will continue to be one.
We love pie. You know that. It’s a major theme for our wedding, for goodness sake!
So when we heard there was a new pie shop open in our neck of the woods, we had to swing by and check it out.
The place is calledthe Pie Shack, and it’s a cosy little beachy spot with lovely communal harvest tables, and a doghouse outside for the requisite, resident puppy.
But more importantly, the pies! Oh the pies!
They are indescribably good – buttery and impossibly flakey – I have a sneaking suspicion that the pie dough is not exactly regulation. A sign mentions that those with nut allergies might be wary, as there is almond in the crust, but I feel the secret is that it is more akin to puff pastry, or a croissant. Imagine: layer, after buttery layer of flakey delight!
I got a slice of apple pie, and there was an option for cheddar, so I took it. Because if there’s one thing I love more than pie it’s cheese, and if there’s one thing I love more than cheese, it’s pie served with a side of cheese, and the only thing better than that, is when the cheese is MELTED ON TOP OF THE PIE… DROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL…
Yeah. It was good stuff.
I’ve been playing around with my little iPhone camera a lot lately. I downloaded a cool little app called Camerabag that automatically slaps some arty filters on your pictures, and actually makes them look pretty cool (for 2 megapixels).
This pic was snapped at our favourite new local bar: the Curzon. They have an amazing, and eclectic draft selection, an awesome bartender with a brogue (who will grab you Thai food if the kitchen isn’t open) and is ringed with rather decadent old Victorian style couches – careful, sink into one and you might never leave!
What I love about the place is that it (and the whole Leslieville neighborhood, actually) is certainly hip, but not too cool for school. It is super friendly, and cosy at the same time as being arty and unconventional – and there’s not a surly hipster to be found (Parkdale hangouts could learn a thing or two).
It was beautiful. Or I assume it was. It took 4 hours to do a 1 hour drive, so we kinda missed the ceremony. We totally rocked the reception though.
Bought or made homemade presents instead.
Sometimes, I like to shoot stuff. This is going to come in handy this year, I think. As stress reliever, I mean.
Seriously.
I like cheese. Plus the unpasturized stuff is not really legal here in Ontario. So there’s the added sexy-danger element.
Registries are stressful.
Bone china? A thousand dollars a place setting? Really? And I need 16 place settings? What?
Registries are wonderful!
As are stores with beautiful, well designed, edited, reasonably priced house wares (including gorgeous bone china – which is the sturdiest thing you can get, so you should use it for your everyday dishes).
They’re grey checkered high top Vans. They’re pretty cute.
Verdict: cheaper is better. Win-win!
Wedsite?
I dunno. A place on the interweebz to put weddingy crap. It turned out pretty nice. It will launch soon (as soon as Liam puts his copy writing skillz to work and fills in all the blanks).
Mine was Montreal style with smoked meat, mustard and a pickle. I thought it was pretty good, but I see what people are getting at with the gravy. It had a strong sage flavour, but I like that in a gravy, so I was cool with it.
This is a bigger deal than it sounds: Good quality flannel sheets in the winter are one of the best investments you will can make: seriously, they will change, and simultaneously rock your world. Just make sure they aren’t the cheap stiff ones. The soft ones: they are where it’s at.
It was amazing, and not as expensive as you’d think There were four of us, and we had 8 entrees (shared tapas style), 5 deserts, a bottle of wine and it came in under two hundred dollars.
You can’t do that at the keg – and this was much more special.
The black cod in particular was awesome – really fresh and wonderful, like it had just come out of the ocean. I was in love with the cheese plate – beautiful local Ontario and Quebec cheeses served with honey comb and these amazing little spiced walnuts. The fries are as good as people say they are – although actually, I think Batifole’s are just a little bit better. Just a little though.
Long story.
A very nice venue indeed.
Not bad.
Never thought I’d find a Serial Killer adorable, but, I do, I do.
(Boy, was I busy).
I’ve been… distracted. I apologize. Lot’s of things in the works, lot’s of things in the air – is it Christmas soon or something?
WHAT?
Less than a month? WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN?
Oh, right, the leaves turned, fell, then it snowed, then they started playing carols in the malls, and today is American thanksgiving, and next it’s Christmas. Right. Well, all I’m saying is nobody told me, and – dude… presents! I don’t have ANYTHING yet. Sigh. I don’t think this is the year I get all creative and make everything ahead of time… *sigh*
Oh well. On the upside, this week has been good.
On Friday we went to the ballet. I dragged Liam along (he went surprisingly willingly – probably because he’s supposed to take me to the opera sometime and has yet to actually do so – and because he was seeing a Raptors game on the weekend). It was alright. Not as good as the nutcracker. The dancing was kinda meh, and the sets were boring, although there were some cute costumes (bohemian, Imperialist Russia – good era for outfits). The ending was definitely anti-climactic, although I didn’t really expect anything less from ballet based on a Russian Drama.
On Sunday I had my sister over while Liam and my little brother went to the basketball game (his birthday was last week).
We gorged on wine and Qubecois cheese while they were gone…..mmmmmmmmmm cheese….
Anyways, when they came back I made pulled pork burritos and for desert we had banana gelato with home-made mars bar sauce. Yeah, I’m a pretty awesome sister.
Then, this week, a friend called inquiring about a burger place we had told him about called the Yellow Griffin so we decided to pay a visit. They have over THIRTY FIVE themed burger toppings to choose from, on EIGHT different kinds of meat burgers (beef, chicken, turkey, pork, lamb, vegetable, bison and salmon). AMAZING, right?
I decided to go for something really different this time, so I had the “New Mexican.” It involved some of my very favourite things – salsa, avocado, sweet potatoes, peanut butter – all smothering a nummy hand formed patty. I know what you’re saying – you’re saying “Peanut butter! On a burger! Sacrilege!” And you would be right. It was sacridelicious. In fact, I’ve decided peanut butter with a hint of cilantro is my new favourite hamburger topping.
Don’t get that look on your face.
Don’t pretend to yak.
That’s what you did the first time you heard about poutine*, and then you tried it, and it was heaven, so don’t knock beef smothered in peanuty goodness til you try it, ok?
*(note to self, must try new Poutine restaurant ASAP!)
I’m finding myself completely obsessed with blogs from Portland, and as such, going hiking. The state seems absolutely awash in gorgeous natural wonders, and delightful parks around every corner.
So this weekend, I decided, enough wishing and dreaming I lived halfway across the world, we were going to find the nearest, most picturesque place to go hiking, and then do so. There had to be someplace to go hiking that wasn’t a hundred miles away, right?
I remembered, growing up in Rexdale (yes really) that we often made field trips to the Humber Arboretum, and that it was gorgeous. Plus, who doesn’t love an Arboretum? It’s a museum of trees. An awesome word really, old-timey in the best possible way.
So we packed up a little picnic containing some seasonal treats (the last of my heirloom tomatoes chopped up in a cous-cous salad, some pesto-mayo made from my basil plant before the frost hit it in a yummy sandwich, and of course some of my pumpkin pie squares) and drove up. The arboretum isn’t exactly in our neighborhood, but it’s easy to get to, right off the highway.
It’s a pretty awesome place, especially considering it’s absolutely surrounded by urban sprawl – you feel like you’re in the middle of nowhere. We even got a little lost at one point – and Liam sort of lost his footing in a swampy area (thankfully we were a few hours in at that point, so we were about ready to go home anyways).
It was a wonderful choice, and totally fulfilled my need to partake in the autumnal splendor. I’m kinda considering investing in hiking boots. I might want to keep doing this.
This might just become a thing.
Which is a method of getting really neat, old-fashioned, artfully flawed images using a digital camera – along with a old twin lens reflex cameras’ viewfinder. I’ve always loved the way these shots looked, I had no idea producing them was so easy. If this works with my little Canon point and shoot (which it should – it has a pretty awesome macro setting), I’m totally gonna start searching for an old twin lens camera when I thrift.
I may or may not have wasted a good half an hour on this cute little game.
Just a new blog find filled with pretty-pretty things of all varieties. The kind of pretty that inspires rampant and uncontrollable urges to be materialist. But so do many of the pretty-pretty blogs I read. Sigh. It might be time take a break from reading those for a little while. Just until I stop hemorrhaging money.
A retro-revival nineteen-thirties-style carnival – complete with concessions, candy apples, carousel, ferris wheel, and circus show. I was very sad when I found out I missed this entirely this summer. There’s always next summer though.
We had some on the weekend. They were delicious – totally the best hot-dogs I’ve ever had (although, it should be said that they don’t really resemble traditional hot dogs all that closely, so consider yourself forewarned). They are little artisinal sausages (that taste a bit like teensy fresh salamis) accompanied by one of four (locally sourced) cheeses and a one of a dozen sauces (cooked up individually by the best chefs in the city using fresh, local ingredients). A lot of internet types seem to be upset that portions are small, and the concept pretentious. I would tell them that if they want street meat, it’s readily available. This is not street meat, it’s a culinary novelty (and a cheap one at that – certainly the cheapest way to have lunch made by Jamie Kennedy – via his 25 cent sauce offering). If you’re a foodie, you’ll love it. If you’re more of a steak and potatoes kinda person, feel free to steer clear. I, for one, found it delicious and delightful.
It was our anniversary on the weekend, and we had a splendid day.
Rather than unnecessarily blow a wad of cash on fancy dinners and shows and things (as we sometimes do) we decided to have the nicest day around the neighborhood for under 100 dollars, and save up for a vacation later on instead. And as a result, I think we had one of the nicest days we’ve ever had.
For lunch we wandered around the Distillery.
We bought a coronation chicken sandwich and a tarragon chicken pot pie from the Brick Street Bakery. Both were astoundingly (astoundingly!) good. I am quickly becoming very fond of the rather retro combo of apricots, curry, cream and poultry that is Coronation Chicken. My royalty loving grandmother would no doubt approve, heartily. The pie was stuffed with juicy, spicy meat, and surrounded by pretty much the best crust I’ve ever had on a savoury pie. I am not a huge crust fan, but this crust made the pie. Perfectly flaky and crumbly and moist.
After some gallery browsing, we made our way to Soma where we had some gelato (a scoop each of: sour cream and lemon; raspberry, lemon and black pepper; and pistachio – all were dreamy) and some mayan hot chocolate. Soma has the best gelato and chocolate in town. It just does.
Then for dinner we went to a little restaurant down the street called Batifole. I had heard nothing but good things about it, namely that it is the best approximation of French bistro cooking in the whole city, and that it was astoundingly reasonably priced. Both were true. It was some of the best food I’ve ever had.
When we sat down we got bread accompanied by a little pat of butter sprinkled with grey salt – and it was some of the best bread I’ve ever had. I asked if they baked it themselves, and they said they had it made for them by the Brick Bakery. Of course they did. It’s the best bakery in town, it seems.
We started off with a brule of pate. Yep, that’s right, like a creme brule, in a little pot topped with a layer of crunchy caramel – but inside was chicken livers. For a creme brule addict like me it was a revelation.
For our mains, Liam had a blanchette de veau – a little rare veal steak covered in a calvados, apples and cream sauce. It was as wonderful as it sounds. I had a cassoulet. It was 3 kinds of meat (duck confit, sausage and gorgeous thick hunks of bacon) swimming in gorgeous melted pools of fat. I have never willingly ingested so much cholesterol in my life, but it was wonderful.
With our mains we got a little basket of frites with tarragon mayonnaise. They were perfection – I can not emphasize this enough – the best fries I’ve ever had, hands down. A rough crispiness on the outside, perfectly salted, meltingly soft on the inside. Perfection.
We didn’t get to desert. We would have liked to, but I was much too full of wonderful fats.
So yeah. Pretty much the best food day ever.
Best part is, since none of it was prohibitively expensive we can do it all again sometime.
This has been a damn fine summer. Not too hectic, not too slow, not too hot, certainly not dry (which I don’t mind one bit – me and my garden like the rain).
I think one of the only bad things to have happened is the raccoons who eat my plants and poo on my deck. Annoying and unsanitary, but they’re pretty cute – especially when they shimmy down the drainpipes of the house next door.
By the way, you might have heard of the saga of Igor the bicycle stealer. He’s made his way to the front (web) page of the New York Times. He was a fixture in the old neighborhood but I – like pretty much every one else who’s ever visited Trinity Bellwoods – ain’t surprised.
His arrest makes me more excited to get a bike someday soon – hopefully by next summer. Now it might not get stolen!
Now, I’ve got to go – I’ve got to get ready to celebrate Liam’s birthday up at my cottage.
As per his request I’m cooking up a big pot of simmer-it-all-day, old-fashioned, Italian gravy (tomato sauce, for those without a Soprano’s Family Cookbook).
I can’t wait for him to open his present, go for a swim and play a game or two of Catan (he’s buying it with his birthday bonus).
Yep. Life ain’t too bad these days.
People in this town keep talking about gentrification.
The tendency is to automatically decry it as a very bad thing.
Of course it’s not exactly all that bad. It can actually be a very good thing. There are many areas that could use a little gentrifying here and there. I don’t see what could possibly be wrong with taking a dangerous, decrepit neighborhood and turning it on it’s head. What’s so bad about taking something that’s broken, and fixing it?
That was why, when we moved back to Toronto 3 years ago, we moved to the edge of Parkdale.
It was an up and comer, a place that had potential, but was still rough around the edges.
Artists lived there, it was cheap, it was cool, it was filled with young people, there was lots to see and do – there was always something interesting going on.
Unfortunately, we weren’t the only ones who noticed something interesting going on there.
In the two years we lived there, we saw that neighborhood turned on it’s head – and the problem was, it was already gentrified enough when we got there. There was already a Starbucks. There was already some fancy lofts. There was already a Drake hotel. Realtors were just beginning to snap up empty lots to develop into boutique condos.
I think the thing is, there’s a possibility for a neighborhood to go beyond just being gentrified. There’s a possibility for it to just turn into a different version of what it was in the first place – a dangerous place, where you don’t want hang around – let alone live.
Which is why I sighed when I read this article about my old digs – complete with a picture of the nice lady with the cute dog (a fox terrier, just like Asa from the Thin man movies) who ran the vintage furniture store down the street. It pretty much sums up all the reasons we moved away from Parkdale (or Queen West West or as they’re calling it now “Beaconsfield Village” – not that I ever heard it called that when I lived there 9 short months ago – which makes me pretty sure it’s solely a Realtor invention for marketing purposes, just like nearby “Liberty Village”).
We saw it happen. We saw the suburban twits drive down from the suburbs in their SUVs every weekend and turn a friendly, bohemian community into a coked-out, drunken orgy (and I do mean that literally, as there’s now a swingers club on the block). Now that it’s started, there’s pretty much no way of stopping it.
I guess the only hope is that once the condos are built and filled with people, some actual infrastructure starts being developed to prevent the place from going to blight (although I’ve seen brand new condos go to blight before, on the cusp of the last economic downturn).
But, for the moment, it’s a bad scene. The neighborhood has become, once again, a place that’s not very livable.
And even if we occasionally miss some of the vibrancy (and the Black Dog video store) we’re pretty glad we got the hell out of there.
The complete opposite side of town is seeming like a pretty nice place to be, at the moment.
My birthday is coming up in less than a month.
Since my birthday is in one of the more depressing months of the year (February – the only good thing about it is that it’s short) I’ve never really made a big deal about it.
For my sweet sixteen, I actually moved my party to June. For reals.
I’ve been trying to figure out some useful way of celebrating it this year. I was thinking of getting a new bike – a nice, old-fashioned, european-style thing, with a chain guard and fenders and a little wicker basket. Something to get to the beach in, or for going to get a few groceries. Something pretty, and girly, but quite functional for an urban neighborhood (such as the one I live in).
I would also like to go away for a weekend sometime soon. After being together for five years Liam and I have NEVER been away together alone (other than camping, and vacations with my whole family). So a little trip to Montreal (I’ve never been) or New York (Liam’s never been) would be ideal.
Both of those things are still options at some point in the future, I think, but I have a new more practical idea.
I want a food box.
Glamourous and exotic of me, I know.
I want a organic food box delivered once a week filled with all kinds of healthy and wonderful and seasonal and local things.
We haven’t been able to afford much in the way of organic foods as of yet, and less than worrying about the environmental cost of buying apples from New Zealand, I want to enjoy the intense flavors and unique varietals offered by organic, local, and heirloom farming. I have a pretty refined palette and I know that Organic food, in season, tastes better. It just does.
Specifically, I am falling in love with Foodshare’s Good Food Box, and their rather handsome political stances on poverty and food distribution (the essays on their website practically made me cry). They basically subsidize the food in an economically responsible way so that everyone (from the highest to the lowest income bracket) can afford to eat more veggies – even organic ones. Sounds right up my alley.
But I am worried: if I live in a co-op, wear a black beret, travel by bike and get my organic food delivered in a box – am I dangerously and perilously close to becoming a dirty, pink-o, commie?
We had a busy weekend planned – but then this storm happened.
Oh well, it was fun to sit and drink hot chocolate and watch Christmas specials (The Animaniac’s Christmas Special, to be specific) in the middle of a swirly, whirly, winter wonderland.
I have to say, yesterday was pretty much the most perfect winter day.
Not only did it snow buckets of crunchy, sticky, white fluff, but my parents called to say that they had gotten last minute tickets to go see the Nutcracker.
I have never seen the Nutcracker, not even as a child (it’s sad, I know). Even though I’m not a very dancey kind of person, I thought it would be something I should probably experience, at least once in my life.
Even though the dancing was, indeed, a little much for me sometimes, the sets were soooooo breathtakingly sumptuous. It’s definitely worth going if you consider yourself at all the kind of person who enjoys some eye candy (even if you aren’t very dancey either).
Let me add that the ballet is set it in imperial Russia so the entire second act centers around a giant, gilded, Fabergé egg that is big enough for ballerinas to come pirouetting out of it. There was pretty much always enough going on on-stage to keep my dad and Liam entertained (and if you know those two at all, you know that’s a big deal – I mean, it’s ballet, and they’re dudes).
On the way home, we passed by the park a block down the street and noticed they had a real live outdoor skating rink with real live skaters playing hockey. It was too surreal. Toronto has not had Winters that were cold enough for that in a while (at least, not this early in the year). I had forgotten it was possible.
Coming back home and looking out over the moonlit, snow covered eaves of my little Toronto neighborhood pretty much cemented it as the best winter day ever.
I’ve been having a good food week. Right now I am sitting here with a (natural) peanut-butter and (concord) grape jelly sandwich and a big, tall glass of chocolate milk. I don’t think it gets more nostalgic than that (*sigh*…grade two… bag lunch… twenty five cents for a carton of the good stuff *sigh*). I bet it’s a meal that people across North America remember and cherish in the same way I remember and cherish it, and that’s sort of neat.
I’ve also been exploring exotic, not so familiar, tastes.
We finally ventured out to little India last week (also known as one block down the street) and bought some spices, paneer (fresh cheese), jellabi (basically funnel cake soaked in syrup), daal (spiced lentils) and the most yummy, fresh, delicious naan (spicy flat bread) and had ourselves an authentic Indian feast!
One of the stores down the street sells samosas at three for a dollar, so I think I’m pretty much sunk. I could eat a bucket of them, and actually I have.
Last night I made a cottage pie, which is something I had in England. It’s basically what we know as Shepard’s pie, but in England a pie with lamb is a Shepard’s pie, and a pie with ground beef is a cottage pie (and it comes smothered in cheddar!). I don’t know what it was about the “Shepard’s” pie I had growing up, but it was not as flavorful as the one I had in England. So I attempted to re-create it.
I cheated and used a lot of “Montreal style” steak spice to season the meat (which is basically just sea salt and cracked black pepper with some cayenne, corriander, dill, garlic, and onion), and it seemed to do the trick in the flavor department. I ran out of corn starch to thicken up the gravy for my stew, so I had to improvise. I thought about what a peasant living in a small cottage might do in my situation. I decided to toss in a few cubed up slices of stale, oatmeal-honey bread into the pot to soak up the stock and it worked like a charm! It thickened my sauce, gave it a richer flavour than starch or flour would have, and bulked it up enough that it could stand up to being covered with mashed potatoes.
For the stew:
For the mash:
Topping:
In the end, my pie came out of the oven golden and crispy on top, and rich and comforting in the middle. It was quite perfect. You should try it! It makes a lot – at least enough to stuff 6 people – or two people 3 times, as the case may be.
There was one blight this week though. The less said about my fish-ball pad-Thai the better alright?
I found this image when surfing around, I believe it is an entry at last years Canada Blooms. I am totally taking it as my inspiration for my garden to be (and am I the only one who is very much reminded of Fred Penner’s Place and his awesome forest garden shed? Am I the only one who remembers Fred Penner?).
I love the juxtaposition of very vibrant saturated colours (the purple birdhouses, the yellow wellies, the electric blue stakes) popped against a rough, rustic, natural background with splashes of verdant and chartreuse gardens.
Although I’m gonna probably rock saturated oranges and pinks, rather than purples and blues because I have a couple big orange berried rowan trees (also known as Mountain ash) to work with. Totally using the “bright lights” swiss chard I want to grow as a colour inspiration.
I have also bought You Grow Girl, and am reading my way through – it’s pretty awesome. It’s got neat crafts, simple instructions, beautiful photography and a youthful/urban/girly attitude that is super easy for a youthful/urban/girl to relate to. The author actually lives down the street somewhere here in Parkdale, so I know all her advice is workable for me here in Toronto’s micro-climate. Perfect!
A precious, beautiful, coral-red, Olivetti valentine typewriter!
I couldn’t really repeat to you what I had because most of it was strange and portuguese and our waiter had a bit of an indescipherable accent, but it was really, really good. We had creme brule for desert, and any meal that ends like that I am all for.
Little known fact about me: I was once a theatre major.
Really.
My opinion on modern theatre is pretty much this: it’s dead. It is either far too pretentious to be enjoyed by pretty much anyone, or far too commercial to have anything interesting to say.
The remedy to this appears to be: Canadians. Particularily Bob Martin (a comedian who Liam’s been a fan of way before he ever started winning Tonys, and who returned home to Toronto to play the Man in the Chair one last time) and Don McKeller. Yay us!
The process of finding and applying for an apartment has been ongoing over the past month or so, but I didn’t want to say anything about it, lest I jinx myself.
We finally found the perfect spot a couple weeks ago.
It has:
TWO bedrooms (one of which is in the cutest little gabled attic)
BAY windows
HARDWOOD floors throughout
a sizable kitchen with COUNTER-SPACE
a GAS stove
lots of BIG closets – with more storage in the basement
FREE laundry in the basement
a beautiful DECK
a big, blank canvas of a BACKYARD
and…
it is a CO-OP, which means we are goint to be paying less than we are now, the CO-OP will pay for us to paint whatever colour we want, and if we want to make upgrades we can apply to have them paid for (!!!)
I saw baby animals; had a corndog, butterfly fries and a candy apple; and came home with fresh homemade cider and bumbleberry pie.
So: my sister just moved to the city this last month to go for a second degree in fashion. She got a job at the best ice cream shop in the city.
You bet I’m using this family connection for my own benefit!
Today I had a s’more sundae (our own invention) which consists of the following:
Greg’s Ice Cream is Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams favourite ice cream shop, and anything me and Liam can do to emulate those two is, I think, for the betterment of society.
Christine on tweets for 2010-01-25
the Sis on christmas ready
kickpleat on a chicken (and rice) in every pot Christine on married kickpleat on married