Nine Days Name

Nine days in and I’ve got a nickname.

nearly as tall as that tree...

Now, since I’m teaching primary school, you might think a nickname is a bad thing. Especially after only nine days. I mean, when I was in school, nicknames included Mr Horrible and Mrs Grouch,  Monsieur Fartsalot and Senorita Scatterbrain. Man, I even had a Mrs Mad Scientist as a teacher. 

And then there are the nicknames you get from family and friends. My own moniker was (hem, is) bony butt. Thanks, parents and aunt.

Sometimes, though, nicknames are nicer, signalling a specific positive trait. Like Tall Girl.

They can be terms of endearment. Tall Guy calls me Gorrion (that means Sparrow).

And sometimes they’re about being accepted into a group, like my new nickname courtesy of my class of third-graders.

They call me Pine Treecher. Because they think I’m as tall as a pine tree. And they like me.

Sometimes a nickname can inspire and encourage you. Obviously, Pine Tree stems from (haha, get it?!) my height. But pine trees stand for (haha, I did it again!) creativity, longevity, energy and strength of character. Endurance and steadfastness. Tranquility. A reminder to seek heavenly rather than earthly treasures, a pointer to always reach higher and try harder.

Pine treecher.

It’s a lot to live up to, but I’ll try.

Tom Thompson's Jack Pine, The National Gallery of Canada

Pine Treecher.

I like it.

The third time's a charm...

You know you’re going British when… part three: you make hats. In the Tower of London.

(In case you missed them, the other two signs of me going British are here and here.)

Last Saturday, I went to a millinery workshop. I thought it would be fun, and also slightly ironic, to make a hat in the Tower of London. Because, you know, a lot of people lost the one thing you kind of need to wear a hat in there…

After tea and biscuits (because everything in England starts with tea and biscuits), eleven other women and I met with milliner extraordinaire, Ani Townsend. She told us about her latest project – making headpieces for a production of the Lion King in Wales. Amazing! I googled her before the course to have a peek at her portfolio (because I’m North American, and that’s what we do before everything), and while she specializes in period hats, she has also made some spectacular modern pieces. I like this one:

One of Ani's creations (photo from her website)

Before we started on our hats, we checked out the crown jewels for inspiration. And before I went, I watched this to get my creative juices flowing - I was determined to make something really cool to wear to my rehearsal dinner, and needed all the inspiration I could get! After the tour, Ani demonstrated techniques for creating accents and for repurposing bits and bobs for accents, for shaping, for securely attaching things. Then it was time to get down to business, and three hours later, I had made a hat! 

Actually, it’s more of a fascinator.

Potato, potaahto?

NO WAY!

A hat is, obviously, a hat. It covers your head and often has a brim. Hats can be utilitarian, religious or decorative.

A fascinator is a hat alternative that is more substantial than a barrette. It’s decorative. It attaches to the hair with a comb or a hairband.Fascinators are small to medium. Anything larger is called a substantial fascinator.

So what did I actually make?

Well, it has a small base and is attached to a comb. A fascinator.

It has a large bow. Substantial fascinator.

It has a veil. Is it encroaching on hat territory?

Let’s just call it....

a hatinator.

Actually, British people would never say hatinator - Canuck through and through...

Spec-sational! Part deux

Back in the spring, I got two new pairs of very cool specs.If you missed them, you see what they were up to here. Check our pair number deux below. They've got some attitude:



The specs are here.



The specs are dramatic.



The specs are looking up. Way up.

















The specs are serious.



Now they really mean it!

The specs are giving you the Miss Piggy.

The specs were just kidding!



Imagine that!

It's Tuesday. It's raining. Still? Again? I don't remember. But that's ok, because... it's sunny in the garden of my mind!

Sometimes all you need to make your day bright is a cheery little song an awesome techno remix.

Ladies and Gentleman, Boys and Girls, to help you to forget the rain for a little while, Tall Girl happily presents a blast from the past, a friendly face, some sunshine on this grey day:

MISTER ROGERS as you've never seen him before!

(Seriously. NEVER BEFORE. I will know if you don't watch this.)

I'll bet he's sung your Tuesday Blues far, far away...

Further Proof that I am Going British

I spent the day at Kensington Palace, making bunting.

Before you ask why, I'll tell you: Bunting is cool, I wanted some to decorate at the wedding, I am old-fashioned, and I do love a good arts and crafts project. Combining the art of printing with the craft of Bunting-making seemed like the perfect way to spend day one of weekend three sans Tall Guy. And it was.

Did I mention today was a GORGEOUS day?

I arrived at the palace early, of course, to get a good seat and to miss nothing. Most of the group arrived early as well. Ah, like-minded learners. We had the Best Friends, the Friendly American, the Mother and Adult Daughter (times two), the Lone Granny, the Amateur Crafter, the Shy Foreigner, the Student, and me, the Bride. 

After helping ourselves to tea and biscuits (I had just had breakfast, but it is the done thing, and when in England...), we settled in to learn about bunting and printing from the fabulous and friendly artist Xtina Lamb.

Then it was time for project planning, fabric and template choosing (bunting can be much more than a string of triangles, but in the end that's what I opted for, double-sided for twice the fun), and some test printing. I mentioned  to the group I was making bunting for my wedding, and that I was hoping to find some purple and ivory fabrics. Instead of the North American competitiveness you encounter everywhere from school to the work place to fun weekend classes, I encountered genuine interest and helpfulness:

There was no mad rush to the fabric box, no elbows in your face as people searched for "the best". No one "just decided" to do an all-ivory banner, or hid all the purple stuff in their purse. In fact, Amateur Crafter offered me a lovely purple flowery print she'd found, and Lone Granny shared a piece of ivory satin-backed crepe. Oh British Decorum and Politeness, how I will miss you!

It took me over an hour to cut out all my triangles, and as I watched others in the group, I wished Besty or Tall Mom were there so we could tag-team. Both Mother and Adult Daughters and the Best Friends were working together to make bunting for garden or Jubilee street parties - one cutting, one printing, then one ironing and one sewing, making very festive pieces of bunting in record time.

a sneak peak

Slowly but surely, my pile of triangles grew, and by half past one I was ready to start printing: First, you secure the fabric, and then secure a screen over the fabric, so nothing will move. Then, you load up a paint scraper with ink, and run it over the screen. Next, you carefully take the screen off the fabric and hang the fabric to dry. A quick press with the iron sets the ink, and voila! A printed triangle, ready to be made into bunting. One down, 25 to go, plus two hearts. I didn't mind - in fact, I loved it! Hmm, a new career as a Printed Bunting Maker?

Once you've got a front and a back, you sew them together and press the seams. I'm still at this stage, since I spent the better part of the afternoon printing - my bunting is bilingual, but you'll have to wait until the wedding to read it! The next step is to sew or string them, and finally, embellish according to your imagination and taste! I'm thinking I'll stick on the pearls left over from the invite-venture, some embroidery, a few bows, and some bells, because I'm pretty sure the only thing more festive than bunting... is jingle-bunting.

Hairy Birthday!

It was my birthday last month, and it was pretty fabulous. It started with a lovely breakfast at home with Tall Guy, complete with champagne and orange juice, and even a birthday card full of cash.

Happy Birthday to me!

Then I went for a peas-full lunch at Hummus Bros (hardy-har-har) with my lovely work friends, where we had free dessert (woohoo!), a post-work birthday cocktail with Chippy, after which I went to meet Tall Guy at the Ritz for the last sitting of afternoon tea. Yum! We sat next to the gold fountain, which is behind the palm tree and my giant hair. 

Somewhere in there I managed to get a birthday hair do. Tall Guy’s reaction when we found each other at the Ritz? “You look like the past!” I did. And it was awesome.

The Day of Food was followed by Friday night on the town, complete with cupcakes (courtesy of Cupcake, of course,  who is the best cupcake maker* in the world), a massage, a parade of sparklers, a VIP lounge and a novelty saxophonist, fab hair still intact at 3a.m, thank you very much.

Contrary to popular belief, Tall Girl does sometimes let her hair down (although in this case, it was up, and thus only down metaphorically).

Thanks, Tall Guy and Ladies, for making the turning of the year an unforgettable one!

*If you're in the London area and need/want cupcakes, check out Cuppidy Cakes on Facebook, or click here. YUM!!!

We'll always have Madrid

or, The Handbag Breakup

It is with a sad heart that I write these words. My very first glamorous handbag, that I've had for nearly 10 years, and I, are over. I put it into the Oxfam donation bag last night.
It's been a long, slow breakup, a series of letdowns that culminated in the need to call it quits - the zipper went a year ago, and the mark on the handle just wouldn't come off. I felt a little scruffy with it on my arm. And, in fact, I kinda, sorta, bought a replacement for it last spring... That I knew it was coming didn't make it any easier. It's a handbag full of memories.

Tall Guy says that in fact, the bag and I have been done since I was 25, and I've been in denial. He says I have a problem letting go of things, and that if you've had something for 10 years, it's only natural that you need to replace it. This may be true, but it still makes me sad, especially when said thing is not completely destroyed or unusable (Tall Guy and my mother say, just because you still have something, doesn't mean you should keep using it, especially when said thing makes you look like a ragamuffin.)

"Buy a new one", Tall Guy says. Even, "I will buy you a new one". He is thinking, "Anything to get you to stop talking about this one!" "We'll look for one when I come," Tall Mom says. "It will be fun!" This is what they said about my threadbare well-loved winter coat, which they made me give up at Christmas. It was not fun, but I did find a new one in the end.
I bought this handbag when I was 17, on a student exchange to Madrid. It's from Mango. Ok, so it's no Louis Vuitton, but as an impressionable teen living in Europe for the first time, this was a sublime find.

It was my birthday, and I was with some friends (also Canadian exchange students). "It's so gorgeous outside, let's start celebrating right now", one said. So we snuck out of school went outside and soon found ourselves on Princesa, a great shopping street in Madrid. After spending time trying on outrageous outfits we were certain made us look "totally European" and buying one too many pairs of feather earrings (which I swear were really cool at the time!), we popped into Mango, which, to our student minds, was a most luxurious store. And there, perched on a dark wooden shelf in a cabinet with glass doors - you know it's fancy when it's behind glass, right? - lit by a tiny overhead light, sat the handbag.

And I had to have it. "Quiero ese bolso" - I want that bag, I said to the shop assistant. "Por favor."
She opened the cabinet and gently lifted it out. I whipped out some birthday money while she carefully wrapped it in tissue and put it into a paper carrier bag (Wow, a PAPER BAG! With rattan handles! How cool am I? Paper carrier bags don't happen every day in the Canadian shopping scene. Unfortunately, we're all about the plastic). 

The handbag and I had some fun times. We went shopping, dancing, on dates, to university classes, to cool restaurants... Yes, I could replace the zipper and re-edge the handles. I could send it for a serious dry clean, and try to pump in some new life. But what I will do is accept that our time together is over, and I'll move on. And while I hope someone will love it as much as I did, I know no-one will love it the way I did.


We'll always have Madrid



Spec-sational!

Part One.

(Other than Tall Guy)

For Valentine’s Day, here are, in no particular order, 14 of my loves this month:

1.      Winter (a book)

2.      Cumin. On olives, hummus, broccoli…

3.      nice, cushy new headphones (thanks, Bro!)

4.      the tiny, travel-sized magazines you can get over here

5.      my monochrome outfit, especially the cool skirt (from Reiss)

6.      this vase, which (as soon as it goes on sale) will grace the mantle

7.      a good discount coupon for a Decléor facial at Holistic Beauty

8.      Rachel’s Pear and Plum yogurt (even though it’s low fat!)

9.      super “elegant” baseball shirts from French Connection

10.  Nicole OPI nail varnish, in "loyalty to royalty"

11.  Lindt Excellence Sea Salt chocolate

12.  this tea (thanks, Fairy God Sister!)

13.  our new casserole dish

14.  Zumba

A good February read

I´m in love with these tops!



a la Audrey

  

too cool for school

Tuesday Treat: Not chocolate cake

I was going to blog about chocolate cake. Two kinds, both flour and sugar free. But then Tall Guy threw a book in my plans. Well, he didn’t actually throw it - he put it under my pillow. Like a giant book fairy. And so last night, I fell asleep with visions of frozen yogurt and hot pink spoons dancing in my head...

SNOG – HEALTHY TREATS COOKBOOK!!!

Fantastic! I love Snog. And I love the Snog cookbook. All recipes are gluten and sugar-free, and many are raw. Hooray! All I could think about all day (er, ahem, apart from focusing on WORK of course...) was my awesome pink cookbook, and what I would make for dessert to show my appreciation to Tall Guy. 

Tall Guy is on a huge cherry kick at the moment. And of course there is a recipe for...

Yummy cherry cake! 

Gobble, gobble, two gigantic slices each. Good thing it´s a healthy treat! 

The first book of 2012

I’ve had books on the brain for a while. (Those of you who know me will say I was born with books on the brain. Bookworm is a gross understatement. Book Beast is more like it.) This blogger posted a roundup of her 2011, and this one has proposed to read one fiction and one non per month for 2012.

I keep a list of what I read, and I usually have a theme or a rule. 2009 was the rule of three: three books by the same author, to really get a taste of their style. 2010 was a new rule of three: one in English, one in French, one in Spanish. 2011 was place: I read books by Canadians (where I was in January), Brits and American expats living in the UK (after the move), and one Icelander (on our trip in August).

Some highlights:

Cool Waters: D. Warren paints a great picture of western Canada
The Children’s Hour: AS Byatt writing historical fiction set in the V&A
Remarkable Creatures:T. Chevalier recreating the life of Mary Anning
The Hare with the Amber Eyes: artist E. de Waal recounts his stunning family history
Last Rituals :Y. Sigurdardottir tells a dark yet humorous mystery
Deaf sentence: David Lodge will make you laugh. And laugh. A lot. Really.

The first book of 2012 was a Christmas gift from my dad, The Salt Road by Jane Johnson. I hadn’t really set any reading goals , but this book fit within the framework of “place” – it’s by a British author, partially set in London. A really good read to kick start the year – I only put it down to make it last a bit longer!

So what will 2012 bring to my bookshelves? Something old and something new. One classic and then one contemporary, no limitations on place or language. Revisiting old favourites and discovering new ones. Winter nights curled up with Charles Dickens and Kazuro Isiguro, spring days in the park with Anton Checkov and Andrea Levy. Any suggestions?

It's shoe time!

This evening I did something really neat - I went to a chocolate tasting and shoe try-on event! Two fun activities under one roof.

browsing in the gallery

What more could a girl want on a Thursday night? A large-footed friend to enjoy it with!

"greta" and "peggy", our new girlfriends

Enter Chippy (a friend from work). Chippy loves shoes and chocolate as much as I do, and she has feet nearly as big as mine. The perfect match! We've been looking forward to this event for weeks. "Three more weeks till shoe night!" was finally, "It's shoe night!"  

"aretha" and some white Montezuma's chocolate

After work today, we hot-footed it over to the Adam Street Private Members' Club, where (after slipping out of our sneakers and into our heels) we were greeted by a friendly receptionist who took our coats and gave us a drink ticket. A great start to a great evening.

decisions, decisions (she chose black)

We were directed into "the gallery", which tonight was a gallery of shoes and chocolate! We sipped some wine as we perused the choices - a low heel? Dark chocolate with mint? Black or creamy patent leather? White chocolate with ginger? A pair of boots? Catherine, the brain child of amber & jade, along with some helpful staff, were on hand to help find sizes, and to encourage us to forget deciding about the chocolate - just try it all! Why isn't all shoe-shopping this easy and elegant? Not to mention tasty...

"montezuma's sea dog", my favourite of the night

Once we had made our decisions, we needed some sustenance. The club had a special menu for those attending amber & jade's shoe night - two courses for a tenner. We surprised the waiter by going with starters and dessert. A decadent decision.  

"ingrid" if the boot fits... buy it!

Catherine had goody bags for us to pick up on our way out (handily, the bag is a shoe bag!). Inside... some more chocolate, from "artisan du chocolat"! Needless to say, Chippy and I had a super-fun evening! We're looking forward to showing off our new foot-candy tomorrow at work. (Betcha wish you had big feet...)

The shoe-lution to my problem

“There is a package for you to sign for in reception”

Music to my ears: The arrival of a package is always exciting (even when it’s stationary), but when you know it’s going to be boxes of shoes, well, that’s the cat’s pyjamas!

I should warn you: I’m about to wax on about shoes. I’m in love, so if you don’t want to hear a love story, stop reading! 

amber & jade is an internet shoe company created by Catherine. Catherine is a Tall Girl, and she, like many Tall Girls, noticed that the shoe market was lacking lovely shoes for larger feet. She also noticed that many of the few styles that were available in larger sizes didn’t fit or look just quite right.  Instead of lamenting about it and giving the evilest of evil eyes to sales assistants who suggest trying on shoes three sizes too small “just to see, because they fit big, you know” as I would have (and indeed, did), she took action, and what action!  Catherine decided that if she couldn’t buy good shoes, she would make good shoes.

Voila! (Well, a lot of hard work and dedication, and then voila!) amber & jade was born, and now Tall Women (and Small Women with Large Feet) everywhere can wear well-made shoes designed specifically for larger feet. AND. They’re fashionable. AND. The price is right. AND. They come in cute boxes with neat shoe bags.

You see, shoe-shopping and I have never had a good relationship. There is one shoe shop in Ontario where I know I can find shoes. One. Things went from bad to worse when I moved to Spain (I would order shoes and have visitors bring them, or get Tall Mom to mail them – yikes!). They picked up a bit in Germany (Birkenstocks, anyone?), but went back downhill in the UK. Then, one night while I was Googling in desperation, “large shoe sizes – women – UK – PLEASE FIND ME SOME!”, I came across amber & jade. Love at first website.

On Friday I met Catherine for a fitting (I’m a size nine narrow, which is a much lovelier sounding size than eleven-and-a-half!) and some decision making… While I would have loved to buy her entire collection, I went with Rose and Elizabeth to start (shoes take their names from inspiring women).

"Elizabeth" in mushroom

I’m looking forward to a long relationship (today I’m wearing Rose) with Amber & Jade. Thank you, Catherine, I couldn’t have imagined a more wonderful shoe-lution to my shoe-shopping woes.

"Rose"

Sun(ny)day

AND... she's back. What can I say? Visitors, work, a really not nice cold, cured in part by a cough syrup straight out of Mary Poppins, have put a damper on writing. Anyway, here I am!

Speaking of dampers, it has been raining a lot lately.

"Harrumph" you say, "no surprises there, you're in London!"

True, but we've had unseasonably warmer and drier weather this year, so a week of grey and rain did take me by surprise.However, we did need the rain, and Londoners don't let the rain, um, rain out their parade. Instead, they:

Boot it.

I am so grateful for my Hunter boots (courtesy of Tall Guy at Christmas). They keep my feet and a good part of my legs out of the water. I leave shoes at work or stuff a pair into my work tote for a change. I'm not sure why Canadians seem to relegate rain boots to children's wear. Clomping around like a four year old is worth it for the end result, not to mention loads of fun (yes, I stomp through puddles on purpose!).

Dig the trench.

There is a reason this coat has been around since WWI. It keeps you dry (and it looks great). I've got a cheery red one.

Brolly up!

I keep my umbrella (also a Christmas gift, thanks Aunt) with me at all times after learning the hard way that one never knows when a little raincloud might blow in.

Say tea!

Keep out the damp with a steaming hot cuppa, and when it really starts pouring, snuggle down with that nice cuppa and a fab book (I've just returned An Incomplete Revenge by Jacqueline Winspear, to the library. It's a fun Brit mystery series... check it out!).

Most importantly, when then sun is out, so are they. Parks fill up, restaurants and cafes spill onto patios, and there are traffic jams on sidewalks.

This evening is fresh and clear, so now I'm off to take my own advice - time for a jog!

My Five Senses - Advent

Sarah of Pink of Perfection sometimes writes posts entitled "Five Senses Friday". I think this is a cool idea, and it's one I sometimes use as an alternative to recording daily events in my journal. To mark the first week of Advent, I've adapted the technique for your here, and added a contest:

What are your senses sensing this Advent season? Leave a comment by December 10, 2010, to be entered in a draw to win a Christmas treat from Germany!

Taste: Advents Kalender Tee. For the duration of Advent, my morning cuppa will be a surprise! I love Advent Calenders, but not the sickly sweet chocolate candy that comes in them. Here in Wiesbaden I had quite a selecion: standard milk chocolate, beautiful paper ones, marzipan, dark chocolate, Christmas ornaments, even Lego! 



See: Nativity scenes all around town, but especially my awesome magnetic nativity scene from Prague (normally the Three Kings are farther away, and Jesus isn't there yet... It's the Spanish in me).





Hear: Pfffrrrehff as I peel open a fresh, juicy clementine. Good things come in small, orange packages.

Buying a loaf of homemade Fruchtbrot in Nürnburg

Smell: Ginger, cloves, and cinnamon from Glühwine and Gingerbread in the Christmas market. In Nurnburg, I couldn´t resist a cup of hot chocolate to warm my hands. We also picked up a loaf of fruit bread that weighs 
3/4 kg!








Feel: Anticipation as the countup to the celebration of Jesus' birth begins!

Remember: Post your five senses for Advent by 10 December to be entered in the draw!

The Blue Room

Looking into the Blue Room

The Blue Room gets its name because it's overflowing with blue: blue carpet, blue sheets, blue night table, Lavender Blue products... It's very peaceful and despite being huge (I think my entire Madrid apartment could fit in here), it reminds me of dear Anne's room at Patty's Place. My favourite piece of furniture is my little blue night table (only 5 euros at Ikea). It's usually hiding under a stack of books, which hide the My Fair Lady record standing along the back.

The main door is Asian inspired, sliding shut on rollers and becoming part of the wall. There is another doorway, up two stairs, that leads to the ante chamber of the bathroom (more on that later, complete with a ghost story). There is also a non-working fireplace which is proving to be a great makeshift shoe closet.

Closet space is one thing this apartment lacks. There is only one tall, narrow one in here, shelves only, and one in the hall (half shelves, half hanging), hence the clothes rack which I have dubbed TGSG (Tall Guy Shirt Gallery).

The floor is about ten centimeters higher than the entryway, kitchen and living room, because it's heated. I am looking forward to stepping onto it on dark, rainy November mornings. What a luxury!

After a string of uneasy nights where every new sound was the ghost of a little girl from the early 1900s who died while in the care of the doctor that used to live and work here, or a drug dealer who had been using our second storey as a hide out from the gang that was after him - it seems my wild imagination and ability to freak myself right out survived the trans-Atlantic flight - I now sleep peacefully in the Blue Room.