So we got back yesterday - that last day of driving is always a real doozy. Going up can seem like a breeze, but no matter how long the drive home is (and admittedly Thunder Bay is 15 hours away from Toronto - that’s a very long drive by anyone’s standards) it always takes way, way too long.
Sooo…More pictures!
This is Liam’s parent’s big doggie (she’s half border collie and half poodle). I think she looks exactly like Sprocket from Fraggle Rock. She doesn’t ever stop moving, and has a serious oral fixation. She’s only trying to tell us about them rascally fraggles though.
We spent much of the week helping to get things ready for a good friend’s wedding on the weekend. These were the crafty little centerpieces - button flowers - I spent a good few hours making dozens of them (they were also the brides bouquet and the grooms boutonniere)..
Besides the buttons, and a gnome theme, there was also a Finland meets Scotland thing going on at this wedding (the groom being of Scottish decent, the bride being of Finnish).
This is one of my favourite shots of the day - a group of ‘Finns’ (denoted by their Nokia boots, fur hats, and ski gear) kidnapped the ‘bride’ (or in this case, the groom, who everyone was calling the bride, since he had the much more expensive outfit on - traditional highland garb doesn’t come cheap).
Nothing to worry about though, simply an old Finnish tradition called “the stealing of the bride”. All the bride had to do was prove herself worthy of marriage to her groom - by answering a bit of trivia about him - and he was returned safe and sound.
Then we broke out a bottle of 12 year scotch and passed it around.
Yeah, it was a pretty good time.
We’re alive and well in Northern Ontario. Here’s some proof:
I think every person in Canada should drive up the spectacular Trans Canada Highway once in their life (it’s our version of Route 66 or, even California’s famous #1). We’re lucky enough to have taken the Toronto to Thunder Bay stretch multiple times at this point.
That, my friends, is a persian. Regional Canadian cuisine at it’s finest (and reason # 1 why I laugh when editorials try to claim we have no - culture here in this country).
I’m pretty sure there’s nothing better on the face of the planet than finding finely crafted brews and burgers, at a local roadhouse - after a long day spent floating down a crystal-clear, clean, northern river on a raft made of inner tubes. Did I mention there was not a cloud in the sky? No? Well, there wasn’t. Um, yeah, perfection.
More proof of us in our natural state to be found on Flickr.
If your family’s been in Ontario for at least a couple generations, then chances are somebody has a cottage.
“A cottage?” you say.
Yes, a cottage.
Ok, so it’s really just a little log cabin by a lake in the woods - and some of you may know these as camps, or maybe the more pretentious term “summer home” - and some cottages really are “summer homes” - complete with satellite TV, multiple bathrooms and gourmet kitchens. Not that ours is anything more than a little log cabin with no phone line and an ancient and quirky oven.
Point is, little lakes are actually so ubiquitous here that pretty much everyone has a cottage on one. And that is a wonderful thing, because here in central Canada it gets as hot in summer as it gets cold in the winter. So if you drive a couple hours out of town into the bush, it gets colder, and there is much in the way of swimming, naturing, beering and merriment.
So at the cottage is where we spent our Canada Day long weekend. Much swimming, naturing, beering and merriment was had, indeed.
I am pretty thankful that Liam is now a real grown-up with a normal nine to five job that allows for the kinds of extravagances like extra - long weekends at the cottage.
I don’t get to go to Europe this year (which makes it sound like I usually spend my summers on the Riviera, instead of the Haliburton Highlands).
So I’m reading this instead. Which is a terribly good read.
On the other hand, I must admit that a big lesson I have learned recently is that traveling the world (much like having read a lot of books) does not automatically make you a good, or even an interesting person. Some of the crankiest, meanest, most horrible people I have ever met are well traveled. Much like some of the stupidest people I have ever met have been “well read”.
Just because you read a book, doesn’t mean you understood it.
Just because you went to France, doesn’t mean you appreciated it.
Really, all being well read and well traveled makes you, is a person with too much money and time on your hands.
Being a conscientious, open minded person is so much better.
So I’ll keep planning yet another exotic vacation to exciting downtown Thunder Bay, with some possible detours to glamorous Deluth, sparkling Kitchener, bustling Prince Edward County and of course the Haliburton Highlands (where the family cottage is situated). Because that’s what we can afford this summer, and dammit, I’m going to make the most of it.
Besides, I’m betting the vast majority of people who have toured Europe have never known the joy of a Bon-Bon Sparerib while sitting atop a curling rink. And for that they are the lesser.
I am in Thunder Bay with a broken arm.
That is my answer.
To that question.
P.S.: Go see Juno. It’s really good.
I was surfing my regular design blog haunts today, when I stopped at this poppytalk post. I am totally digging that look.
I had seen neat little bucket stools just like those in London this summer at this great little chain diner they have all over there called Leon (I would eat out ALL the time if I had one of those around the corner from me here - and they were so cute and retro too) - such a great idea, such a great way to recycle both fabric scraps AND old paint or olive buckets.
Perhaps I’ll do something like this (with some waterproof oil cloth) on my new deck. They’d be great as additional seating when there’s company coming - totally a low rent, industrial version of the Moroccan “pouffes” I was talking about earlier in the fall. Plus they’re small and compact, easy to tuck away, and I bet you could store stuff in them too.
And all this reminded me that Liam posted a bunch of our pictures of England on flickr last week.
Sorry it took so long guys!
Things have been fairly hopping around here, I guess you could say. There has been camping, weddings (that’s weddings plural) birthdays (also plural - including Liams - I made him beef tenderloin with garlicy seafood studded linguine and high/british/cream tea with homemade cranberry scones for desert) and now there are four cats in one small apartment to chase after.
Plus, there’s the current yellow obsession. Deep, egg yolky, rich yellow. A colour I always hated, but am currently working into my wardrobe. I know it’s kinda the current trend - heck I even designed a wedding invitation incorporating it, but I’m enjoying it.
Those photogenic Saltwater Sandals up there could not come highly recommended enough. I may have bought them for their shiny yellowness, but they have more than proved themselves. They stand up to water, sand, mud, pavement, torrential British rains, sheep, pine tar and my sensitive (blister prone) feet. Throw out your damn crocs already! They are ugly! These are cute!
So I’ve been vaguely avoiding updating. I was going to point in the direction of jet lag, but really, it hasn’t been too much of an issue.
It’s more that we had no (or at least very little) internet access in England, so we couldn’t upload and post things gradually (not that we had the time to do so even if we had the net) and so now there are probably a good thousand or so photos to sort through and post. Which is daunting.
Well, on the whole, lets just say I enjoyed myself. For now. I checked pretty much everything off of my list.
Actually… “enjoyed myself” might be an understatement. I think I might like to live there someday. In a little cottage. In the English countryside. With the occasional trainride to London for shopping (amazing, amazing shopping).
I mean my parents said it when they were there last (and they have more right to, as they were both raised by very British parents) but it kinda felt like home, for some strange reason.
I guess it all adds up - since a very young age every other book I read (certainly all the favourites, at least) were set in the British countryside: Diana Wynne Jones, Arthur Ransome, Lewis Caroll and Roald Dahl.
Speaking of which, I just found that the people that make those amazing Penguin paperback mugs and things (which I searched all over England for, and could not find for some strange reason) make a Swallows and Amazons set of mugs, and I want one desperately and dearly.
Then, while looking around, I found that another company that designs elegant and thoughtful souvenirs for iconic British entities makes Pantone!!! Swatch!!! Mugs!!! and, well, my heart pretty much swooned and exploded.
So, in summation, I will shortly be installing a Pay Pal donation button, to which all funds will go directly towards buying myself a small cottage in Kent, Sussex, or other suitable English countryside.
Ok, no, maybe I’m just kidding.
Well… Actually… Then again… Never say never…
So, I am going to London in about a weeks time. London as in England.
Any suggestions?
Here’s my list of Must-Dos (most of them involve food and booze):
- Harrod’s food court
- High tea - the works (clotted cream and scones and cucumber sandwiches)
- Bangers and mash
- Pint in a pub
- Fish and chips (will substitute with anything else deep fried that probably shouldn’t be).
- Curry
- Pim’s Punch
- Ride Tube
- Savile Row, High Street, Portobello… Shopping! (Even just of the window variety.)
- Tate modern, National Gallery, National Portrait Gallery, Victoria and Albert, St. Paul’s Cathedral, Tower of London, Westminster Abbey, etcetera, etcetera, blah blah blah, yeah we’ll see if we have time after the eating…
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