Back to Ohio

Yesterday I made the 11 hour trip back to Ohio for a couple of reasons.
1) my best friend is leaving for the peace corps NEXT WEEK!
2) American thanksgiving is this week and HOW could I miss an opportunity to PR on my time from the turkey trot last year?
3) my mother has been getting antsy about the thought of waiting until December to see me, so maybe this will hold her over?

I've got a week full of activities that include eating a lot of pumpkin-sage risotto, running a race, hanging out with my BFF as much as possible until she leaves, and spending time being a big goof with my wonderful family. I really look forward to it!

The Nanny: Week 1

This week started off bizarrely. The nanny mom said to me Sunday afternoon, as the girls smiled shyly at me while we walked the neighbourhood, "Things might be a little awkward at first. The language, I mean."

I really wasn't sure how much English "not much" actually meant...and to be honest, I still don't really know! Monday morning before I went to work, I made three pages of "cheat sheets" for myself to look over when I needed to say something to the girls and inevitably went blank. I practiced the few phrases I thought I would need on our walk home from the school. "Hold my hand," "stay o the sidewalk," and "how was your day?"

I automatically said everything in English first, as a native speaker is wont to do, and received as my response a very, very confused look. I wasn't sure how much of it was my accent (which I largely try to mask but comes out when I am comfortable) and how much of it was that they just didn't know any English.

This first week was very quiet, with the kids doing a lot of drawing and coloring when we arrived at home while I cooked dinner. I feel pretty positive this will change by next week, considering their own parents described them as "boisterous."

Already by the end of this week I could see some of the novelty of a nanny was wearing off - they whispered to each other in French, realizing that my comprehension is somewhat limited, and giggled quietly when I spoke in French. At the beginning of the week, my English was met with inquisitive looks, by the end, it was "quoi? Quoi? QUOI?" followed by fits of laughter. Ohhhhhhh boy, I think I will have my hands full.

At any rate, it is great to be around constant French and I can honestly FEEL a difference in my pronunciation after only five days of daily contact. My tongue moves a little more freely around the R in livre, the nasally sound of bien, and I have learned some...very important vocabulary. Garbage, for example, as well as the phrases "really need to go to the bathroom," "how many more streets do we have," and "will you buy us a treat at the bakery?"

There has not been any English learning yet, other than the simple fact that they are being exposed to it because I literally have to say everything in English and then slooooooowly translate it for myself into French. So there's that.

Like I said, I am still a novelty, but that will wear off quickly and I have a feeling that the coming weeks will be very different. This is not at all what I thought I would be doing, but it is, and I am so far enjoying the bizarreness of it all.

Hired!

Hired! Next week I begin my quest to become quite possibly the best. nanny. ever. Caring for a set of kids, cooking, and teaching them English and music! 

If you need me, I'll just be here channeling my inner Julie Andrews a la Mary Poppins all weekend, with some Mrs. Doubtfire thrown in there to help with the meal planning.

Edit: I guess I should add some back story to this post! Maybe six or seven weeks ago, when I was in one of my slumps of desperation and frustration, I signed up with a semi-legit looking website for Nannies. I completely forgot about it. Until last week, when out of the blue I got a phone call...someone saw my profile and wanted to interview me to be their nanny! I was totally caught off guard and hadn't thought that anything would ever come of me going on that website, but I set up an interview anyway. Three days later, I rode my bike about twenty minutes to their home and talked with them for about half an hour. The next morning, they phoned to tell me they want me to start on Monday! Pretty amazing. The children don't speak English. This...is going to be interesting!

Update on food and budgeting

A few weeks ago I mentioned a new plan I had for cooking, which was actually planning my meals ahead of time. I determined that in order to get the maximum bang for my buck, to reduce waste, and to reduce stress, I would come up with a number of meals to cook over a period of 10 or so days, then shop for those meals.

I guess it's time for an update, right? Somehow a month flew by in the interim, and I'd say the plan is going pretty well.

Let's go down the list.

Planning:
Once every ten days or so, I sit down and flip through my plentiful cookbooks, bookmarked recipes, and favourite food blogs, and write down 10-12 meals I'd like to make, ranging from super simple (tacos with beans and rice, baked spaghetti and broccoli) to a little more involved (soup, brioche sandwiches, really, anything that requires more than an hour from idea to belly). My choices have been based on partly what I'm craving in the moments when I'm making the list, partly what the predicted weather looks like, and partly what we still have in the fridge. (More on that in a second.)
Underneath my listed meals, I write out all the ingredients I will need for that meal. I then take a second piece of paper and make my shopping list from that, notating (x2) if I need something for two meals. All of this sounds needlessly complicated, but I can assure you that it is helping A LOT.

Maximizing bang for my buck:
At this point I feel like I pretty much know where in the market to go for each of my favourite foods. I have a broccoli and cauliflower guy, whose heads of produce dwarf anything you would find in a conventional grocery store and who always tells me to pick the one I want, then says "excellent choice." I have an egg guy. I have a bargain apples woman. (Usually 7-8 pounds of "#2 apples" for $3-5!) and I've found all of this out (bargains, friendly folks) by continuing to shop at the market, even though it is a little intimidating and way out of the way AND out of the anglophone bubble when compared to the grocery stores in our very (very, very, very) anglophone neighbourhood. So my adventuring and forging on is a win-win-win-win: I'm practicing my French and overcoming my fears, we are saving money, I am meeting the people directly in contact with my food (I mean, for the most part - as long as I continue to live in places where it snows, I'm afraid I'll never meet the people who grow my food through the dead of winter or pick my bananas all year long), and we are eating great food.

Reducing waste:

This has been a huge change for us. Things are no longer rotting in our fridge because I "had" to have that giant bag of xyz then didn't know what to do with 2/3 of it. As much as I loved being in a CSA program, it was hard for me at the time because I wasn't in a place in my life where I could a) spend hours every week cooking and b) plan meals. Other than when I lived and cooked in the coop, planning meals just wasn't something I was accustomed to, so it wasn't something I was going to start doing when I was incredibly busy and going out of my mind.

So. Now that I have taken that step back and envisioned what I wanted to accomplish in the kitchen and in my belly every week, there is less waste happening. I can still buy things in bulk, (the way my Midwestern upbringing has drilled into me so well, and the way that city life is so not suited for) but the catch is that of I want to buy that 15 pound bag of carrots because it is only $1 more than the 5lb bag, you'd better believe I've got 7 recipes that call for carrots over the next 10 days, and I'll be eating carrots for snacks. I've also started paying attention to shelf life, because I do bargain shop and that often means buying the produce that is not the, shall we say, "freshest." No, guys, it's not like I'm buying moldy food, but seriously - why not buy that basket of bell peppers for $3 when a couple of them are soft but the rest are basically the same as those that are $3/pound? My trick is to keep an eye on them in the fridge, and when things start to look like they're nearing or past their peak, I either use them immediately, or prep (deseed, chop, grind, whatever) and freeze.

If I had to put a number on it, I'd say we're down to 3% waste around here.

Reducing stress:
I go to the market for all produce and eggs, and where I was once wondering around for hours, trying to figure out what I need and how I can ask for it in French without looking like a total tourist fool, I now feel calm cool and collected. My list allows me to plan ahead, and because I spend about half the time doing shopping that I did before, I enjoy the trip a lot more. And more importantly, when I am able to coordinate the trip so he can go with me, B enjoys it too. He is a true trooper when it comes to the idea of shopping, but he tires of it rather quickly. Getting our produce quickly and easily (and in French!) makes the whole trip more fun!

In terms of mealtime stress, I have definitely felt a reduction. I don't wait until we're both hungry for dinner to start brainstorming. I usually have stuff at least partially prepped in the fridge, so all I have to do is pick something off of my menu and go for it!


Long story short, the plan is working so far. Still figuring out the trick to getting the dry goods, dairy, etc. that I need without breaking the bank at the grocery store here. That's my next goal!

Canadian Thanksgiving

First of all, sorry about the major lack of photos in all of my posts. I haven't taken many pictures recently, and as a result my blog has been extremely word heavy. Hopefully this will remedy that!

Well, the weather has been lovely, steadily heading into those mid-fall temperatures. Leaves have been changing, running on the mountain has been incredible, and last weekend we had a chance to get out of the city and go to our place in Ontario for the long holiday weekend.

There was no turkey involved, but the cooking was pretty great nonetheless. I'd say the only hitch was the night we headed out of town when a) we got stuck in long-weekend Friday afternoon traffic, and b) once we arrived at the lake at 11pm, we couldn't get the boat to start and were stuck outside, drenched in the pouring rain. We had to call in a favour from a friend in the village. Oof. Not off to a great start. However, the rest of the weekend was great. Little bit of rain cooled everything off, perfect for cozying up by the fire.

B did some composing, I did some practicing, Christian (a friend from Oberlin who also lives in Montreal now) did some recording, and everyone had a nice time hiking. I'd never been to the cottage at this early fall time, and it was a sight to behold. The colors were on full display, the lake was empty, and it was still navigable by boat.

I was sad to leave on Monday morning, but I was happy to have the weekend away! As much as I love living in the city, sometimes you just want to get away. It could also simply be the siren song of my favourite place in the world being just a few hours away, calling to me. Either way, it was just what we all needed.

Frustrations

I'll admit it. I find not being employed incredibly frustrating. Maybe it's not so much being unemployed as it is a combination of being unemployed, disengaged, and disconnected. I haven't been in Montreal long enough to really feel like it is my home, and yet here I am.

I thought that perhaps, after five years of full time school, then six months of balancing teaching full time plus attempting to hold on to the life of a student, perhaps I would enjoy some down time. But I never thought that not having anything to do could be so difficult! I find that without any obligations or commitments, I don't get very much done in terms of what I want to do or what I should do. I feel like I'm wasting my time and talent. That every moment spent out of a classroom, out of an office, out of a studio...is a moment that I am disintegrating as an artist, teacher and business person.

It's not all bad, honestly. For one thing, I can safely say that I am getting more sleep every night than I got in two average nights combined while I was in school, especially during my masters. That is a HUGE perk, because I feel like I'm able to think about everything in at least a level-headed way.

That said, I've applied for two dozen jobs...since I got my work permit.
Good news: I was called for two interviews at nonprofits!
Bad news: I couldn't take the interviews because it turns out that most nonprofit jobs are funded by a government program that targets hiring Quebec citizens. Citizens and permanent residents. Although I have a work permit, that's not me. Talk about frustration!

I want to DO something! When I wrote my Lifelong Learning post a few weeks ago, I mentioned all of the things that I'm doing to keep myself busy, things that I previously wouldn't have necessarily considered doing...and truth be told, I AM enjoying doing those things. I just need to figure out how to spin all of this for myself. B spends so much time talking me down off of this cliff of going stir crazy, telling me that spending a year doing things for myself is more than fine, great in fact!

This is all going to take time, and I need to work on coming out of my shell and exploring the city. I've always wanted to live in the city, and now I am, so I need to take advantage of this. I plan to continue to apply for jobs here, but I am going to try to spend my down time being happy rather than moping. We'll see how that goes.

Freelancing, an ongoing story

I began my journey as a freelance xyz as early as age 12. Born to two entrepreneurial parents, my siblings and I were raised with a fierce sense of responsibility to do two things:
1) Find our paths in life by being leaders, not followers and
2) Give back to others and our community through volunteering time, talent, and resources.

Our parents demonstrated these ideals to a fault. My father owns a small business that likely does as much work as an in-kind donation as it does for profit each year, my mother has served as the advisor for far too many student organizations through her school, and both parents continue to serve on the working boards of several nonprofit organizations.

My siblings and I shared and operated a small lawn care business, spanning almost 15 years - beginning when my brother was old enough to drive, and ending when my sister left for college. We had several clients, but we also mowed the lawns of people who could not pay us the going rate, or at all. We were also incredibly involved in many of our parents' philanthropic efforts. Most of these organizations were focused on social efforts, but it was no surprise when each of us took this combined entrepreneurial/volunteer spirit and carried it in out own ways into our adult lives.

Beginning in high school, I taught lessons to students younger than I, and when I learned that my senior year involved no classes on Fridays, I offered myself as an aide to the music department at the middle school doing the same thing pro bono. At Oberlin, there is absolutely no shortage of opportunities to volunteer and to market one's skills, but it is a difficult thing to break into as an 18 year old, fresh from high school and trying to figure out one's place in the world.

It wasn't until after my third internship that I finally figured out a way for my loves of words, music, independence, and nonprofits to collide. After returning from a hugely successful month at the National Endowment for the Arts, I took a course on grant writing and started sending out my feelers to see if there was a way to write for other people. I started small, working on projects for my mother's school and spending a lot of time researching grant organizations and signing up for email newsletters. Grants that I wrote were awarded some small amounts of money from various foundations.

Then, this year, I took on some larger projects. I'm feeling great about what I've accomplished with regards to my projects from 2012. I'm actually still working on finishing up the largest components from working in Alaska, a huge video project to be submitted with grant proposals.

For the time being, my teaching lessons is a bit on ice. It's tough to find students in a city with two universities with well-known music colleges, and so far none of the applications I've put in to community music programs have gotten any response. I'm planning to teach some lessons to my old students when I visit the states, and when I do, I know it will be a great time. I really miss my students from back home! I had a happy little studio of maybe 9 students that I saw each week, and I was so delighted to see them make progress each week. It's something I look forward to doing on a regular basis sometime soon.

For now, I'm piece-mealing work, talking to everyone I can talk to, and finishing up outstanding projects. Keep on fighting and keep on writing!

Life-long learning

Although I'm no longer in school and I actually find this simultaneously liberating and depressing, I'm trying to ensure that I am continuing along the path of learning. Teaching myself new things. French, which I've already touched on, is something that I not only would like to do, but it is basically essential to my succeeding in Quebec.

Something I haven't mentioned here is CodeAcademy, a free online resource full of classes and projects to teach you HTML, Javascript, CSS...I've been working on it for a little over three weeks and have gotten hooked. I like that I'm learning something slightly technical, really relevant, and fun, all at the same time. I've had an interest in web design for a long time, back when livejournal was king and I would experiment with the open HTML parts of the site, seeing what changing different sections of code did, finding code online to copy, paste, and examine. I didn't know what any of it meant, but I thought it was interesting.

I still have only a rudimentary understanding of what the internet really is (don't laugh!) and how it works. I wish it was something I could wrap my brain around. Really, when you think about it, it's incredible that it exists, and incredible that I'm typing on a laptop smaller than my coffee table book and broadcasting my thoughts to the world at large. Weird. 

BUT. Now that I've been using CodeAcademy, I have at least a basic understanding of what all of the code means. I could go into the HTML version of blogger and post that way - I do feel that I've got that much under my belt. I've completed many lessons and several units, and I feel really proud and happy when I do. 

I think that if I keep this up, I will be able to do some basic website building for myself and some of the freelance clients that I pick up here and there. That would be fun! 

KNOWLEDGE IS POWER!

Our first French class(es)

Remember what seems like was waaaaaaaaay back in the beginning of September when I mentioned that we had signed up for French classes at the post graduate house? Well, FINALLY the first class came and went. (And so did the second!)

Our teacher is this really nice guy who only teaches to postgrads and spouses through these classes. Skimming through the 30page packet he gave us Monday night, I can tell that the class is going to be very practical, very much -- here's what is going to be the most use to you, right now -- and part of that might be that we are in the "beginner high" level. The other part I think is the teacher who is awesome. Did I mention he is awesome? Already I can tell! He talks to us mostly in French but I would say that a third of the class is still in English. He sends out a weekly email with mp3s of the material for the next week so we can practice before we arrive, and PDFs of commonly seen signs and postings from around the city.

The first class was VERY crowded. Every chair was filled! We soon broke into partners and talked about ourselves, where we are from, and other simple things like that...all in French, of course!
The second class had about half as many people. Our teacher, Ashod, said that this is to be expected. A things get busier, fewer people will show up, etc. I totally understand that, but I do think B and I are in this for the long haul. Going to try to miss as few classes as possible.

They are fun so far, and I'm really looking forward to combining the powers of my individual study with formal classes!

Running: Past and Present, Part II

Present:
Since running that first post-high school race in 2009 and completing my surgery in the fall of that year, I've run three 5k, three 10k, one 5-miler, and two half marathons. Even when I wasn't running competitively, I ran because it is part of who I am and because it makes me feel good. It grounds me. Running allows me to free my mind and body and just be, as cheesy as that sounds.

Not that I ever look for an excuse to get out of something I love doing - Running - but I think we all go through phases where we think we are too stressed out to possibly fit in just one more 60 minute thing. I know that is definitely my story sometimes, until I remember that when I'm feeling stressed or can't seem to finish a project for a looming deadline, or can't get my head around something, running is often the answer. 

Unfortunately, the moving process was really stressful for me this fall. I jumped in and out of different work situations throughout July and August and ended up here, and I have now slowly broken back into running after a long hiatus of about two months. It is slow going, but I am optimistic mainly because I know that I am a runner. It is a way that I identify myself as a person, and it means a lot to me personally because every time I lace up my shoes, I feel so thankful for my healthy, pain-free body. 

It's also a great excuse to get outside, no matter where I am. I am not a gym type of girl. I would MUCH rather bundle up and freeze my noogies off for 40 minutes than run on a treadmill. (Gotta EARN that hot shower!) I have certainly caved and gone to the gym in the past during college, when the gym facilities were free to students and the weather was just downright nasty, but for the most part I try to keep my gym-going down to using it for something I can't do at home or outside: Swim laps, for example.

January 2012, 0*F and my water bottles froze during an 8-miler

I'm fortunate to have an awesome at-home setup which is portable and small, including a great free-weight set, yoga equipment, and a bike trainer which I use pretty frequently once it gets too icy for me to take the bike outside. Here in Montreal, I don't have access to a free gym, which is a bummer if only for the swimming thing. I've heard many a tale of the brutal Montreal winters, so I am going to see how things go. Already it is well into fall. Like anything else, I'll see how it goes and if necessary, buy a gym pass for the mcgill gym during winter semester. Until then, I'm sticking with outside.

In terms of goals, I just want to get back into my fast, secure, shape again. Hill workouts galore, easing back into longer distances. I ran a few long runs this summer in the mountains and in the trails, so I'd like to work my way back up. I don't have any races in mind just yet. I'm going to wait until the spring for that...other than the Cleveland turkey trot, which I ran last year and had a BALL running! My dad came down to cheer me on:

Looking forward to doing that again this year. So that's my goal: PR at the 5-mile distance.
More updates to come on running as I get back into my training!

Running: Past and Present, Part I

I have not put a lot down on this topic in the blog, but the fact remains: I am a runner. Running is one of those things that feels natural to me. Pace after pace, big long strides, feet connecting with the dirt.  It's kind of my thing, and it has been for a long time.

Past: 

I ran competitively throughout middle school and into high school, racing middle distances and specializing in hurdles. I was pretty good, if only for within my school/athletic conference. The only problem? After puberty, running hurt. My feet, specifically, the inside bones of my feet, would feel as though they were being ripped apart, as if running was the last thing I should be doing. I complained occasionally to my parents but kept it mostly under wraps, because I didn't want to be told I couldn't run.

My second year of high school, my track coach suggested trying cross country, to build up some muscle and increase endurance. I was a 100lb lightweight until age 16, stick thin and metabolism through the roof. (My freshman year I distinctly remember coing home from track practice and being starving, so what would I eat? Frozen cookie dough, of course!) Anyway, I was strong for my size, but he was right - I lacked the endurance that would make me a better middle distance runner. At his insistance, all the while thinking "this is crazy," I went for it. I turned out to be a pretty natural long distance runner. My first season was great - thanks to switching to real trainers instead of sneakers, thus starting my 7-year love affair with the Mizuno brand. My feet still hurt. By the middle of the season, my parents would drive me home from meets and I would cry and massage my feet. 

Somewhere along the line, I visited an orthopedic surgeon who told me that I had bunions on both of my feet. It was one of those things that I viewed as tragic, and like any other girl in high school who had enough self esteem but still maybe some body issues, I felt that my feet were my major flaw. They were ugly (in fact, a long way down the road, when B first saw my feet without socks, he remarked "What is wrong with your feet?!) They caused a lot of pain. The doctor told me that there wasn't anything they could do until I was finished growing, so I continued to run and live off of ibuprofen in the mean time. (I know, I know...) Several cross and track seasons passed, along with injuries to my knees and hip flexor - results of a combination of pounding from sprint hurdle races, long distance workouts, and the odd gait I had developed to deal with my bunions. I went through two bouts of physical therapy including twice a week visits in the off season to get ultrasounds done on my aching knees. (Felt incredible, by the way - like tiny electric people massaging the inside of your bones and muscles?)

Although I had dreamed of running for a division III school and seriously considered it once I got to college, I realized that my schedule was already packed pretty tightly...and I wasn't sure that I wanted to live the next four years exactly the way I had the last four - running around from one commitment to the next, driving myself insane. I ended up doing this anyway, but filled my time with things other than competitive sports. I ran on my own and with friends, outside, throughout the cold midwestern winters, and continued to dutifully complete my old physical therapy exercises. I enjoyed my "running club" of two, me and my best friend (then and still!), the crazy girls who ran through ice storms and blizzards, then stretched in the hallways of our dorm. I didn't think about returning to running competitively until I attended a music festival in Michigan after my second year.
On a whim, I registered for a 10k, 6.2 miles, that was happening three days later. At that point the farthest distance I had ever run was 5 miles, and I was honestly worried that I would not be able to finish. Race day was hot, it was incredibly early (for me) to be running, and it was so different from any race I ever ran in high school.

For one thing, there were runners of all ages. For another, I was running with men. This might sound strange but I had never run with men before. High school sports are totally separate, and most of the time we didn't even see the boys' team run - they went to different meets than we did. I had never run recreationally with a male, other than a couple times with my boyfriend. Suddenly I was surrounded by men and women and runners and walkers and baby joggers!

Long story short, the race went surprisingly well, and I discovered the joys of road racing. Here's me, along with some other folks from the festival who ran, after the race. I'll never forget the feeling of pumping along past mile five to the Jackson Five playing from one of the cheering stations, feeling impossibly good.

Since running that race, I've competed in quite a few road races. The major change in my running and my approach to the sport came when I decided to have surgery on my feet to fix the bunions. It wasn't just an issue with dealing with pain now, which was bad enough: I had to buy shoes a size bigger and was ingesting a really unhealthy amount of anti-inflammatory so that I could just function, let alone run.   In addition, however, not having surgery had long term ramifications: I stood a very good chance of developing arthritis within a decade or so. I had the surgery completed two days before thanksgiving in 2009. While it was awful at the time because I chose to do both feet at once and was in double air casts for six weeks, I firmly believe it was one of the best choices I have ever made. To double-down on my commitment to listening to my body and doing what is best for it, I swore off wearing shoes that were cute but uncomfortable. Anyone who knows me well knows that shoes are my thing. Some people collect stamps, others collect antiques - I collect shoes. So it was a big step for me to take, no pun intended.

I've managed to live the last three years almost entirely pain free. I rarely have to take ibuprofen. The best part about the surgery was that fixing the issue in my feet changed the alignment of the rest of my body, freeing up my knees and hips to work the way that they are supposed to. I repeat: Having the surgery was the best decision I have ever made.

Post-2011 10k, with running buddies from college

I should also note a major change in the gear that I use. In November of 2011, I needed a new pair of shoes but the new mizunos wouldn't be released for another two months. In a twist of fate, I tried on the New Balance minimus trail shoe and fell in love. I ended my 7-year run with Mizunos and have been running in my NB's since. I love that in addition to feeling like my feet and knees finally "work" in a way that feels natural, my shoes are an extension of that. They feel natural and like part of my body. Feels good.

This post has gone on looooonnng enough. If you made it this far, congratulations!
Next post: Running, part II: Present.

Work permit

I got my Canadian work permit yesterday! This is truly exciting news. Now, to keep churning out those job applications! This is how I'm feeling right now:

and this:

and also this: 

Needless to say I am excited. Now if I could only find a job...

Parlez-vous francais?

We signed up for French classes! After a couple of hectic weeks trying to determine whether we were eligible to take the free classes through government programs (and finding out that we are not), we signed up for French class through the PGSS at McGill.

Classes start in a week or two, and I am so excited to get back on the wagon. I do a little bit of Mango every day, but I think it will help to be with a real live teacher who can answer the weird questions that I come up with and can be more reliable than google translate.

French has become a really important thing in my life since moving here. I've been working steadily on my own, but it doesn't seem to be enough. Everyone here is bilingual, and I will admit - I get intimidated. I'm afraid to try using the French that I do know, because I'm worried that I will mess up, or that someone will be angry at me. That's totally ridiculous, because most of the people that I have met are so friendly and are willing to talk to you in English...which is also a problem because once you struggle, they know that French isn't your first language and switch to English, so then I don't get any practice. It's a cyclical thing...and obviously not uncommon, since Mango specifically teaches you how to say "Please speak more slowly" and "Please speak to me in French."

I'm excited to get past the point where people seem to know immediately that I don't speak French (at least not well enough to feel comfortable)...

I think it's not only healthy but necessary to set goals when taking on a new challenge, so here are mine:

My short term goal is to be able to carry on a basic conversation in French when I go to the market for produce.
Long term goal is somewhere on the horizon. I'd like to get as close to fluent as possible, and within two years that should be attainable. I just need to be committed and fearless!

In other news, I've been doing a lot more running lately. The weather has started to cool down enough that I'm not uncomfortable 10 minutes into a run, but I will be honest - Mount Royal will kick my ass forever. It will always be a good workout! Here's to hills!

I've also been doing more walking, too! It is so funny to see how different our neighborhood feels now from when we walked around the city during our visit in April. Here I am walking super close to what became our home in August...and we had no idea! I was really miserable then, I was sick, I had recently had dental work done so my mouth hurt, I was terribly prepared for the really cold weather, and I was missing a half marathon race to be there. Ignore my annoyed and tired face!

I've found a few places that I'd like to try out when we have a bit more disposable income. Right now we are still trying to save money and live pretty frugally, with the occasional "splurge" of a night out getting drinks at a brewery (there are SO many of them here).

Anyway, that's what is happening right now. More soon!

Shopping and Cooking on a Budget

Why HELLO, beautiful food above my head! Yesterday I went to Jean-Talon and carried ALL OF THAT back in my back pack and my panniers! Looking at the photo I have a hard time believing it! There are ten pounds of carrots in that bag, as well as eight pounds of apples beside it. We came in at under $30 again, which is my goal when I go to the market.

Something that I haven't addressed much here, since I've been in this liminal state since June, has been my cooking. I didn't do a lot of cooking this summer because my meals were provided. I did do some baking, however...

Like the delish cake that my sister and I collaborated on to celebrate her birthday:

Um, can you tell I am excited and experiencing a sugar rush in these photos? Chocolate banana cake with a chocolate ganache. To. Die. For.

Anway. Although we have been fortunate in that we have always had access to great, fresh produce (coops, CSA programs, and farm shares while in Oberlin), we didn't have much choice in what we food we had in the house. Those of you who have participated in farm shares or CSA programs know what I'm talking about when I say that there were periods when we had cabbage at every meal because our monthly share was about four different cabbages, potatoes, and apples. Now that we have year-round (just found out they are year round and I am SO EXCITED) markets with butchers and dairy farmers (and imported foods...), I have just been wandering around the market for hours, trying to determine what food to buy.

I have always had a hard time grocery shopping. I LOVE it, but I get overwhelmed. Ours is not a budget that has room for a lot of wasted food or super fancy frills (but what "fun money" we do have is usually spent on fun foods and small batch alcohols), so we have always tried to make sure that nothing goes to waste in our kitchen. That was tough sometimes on a CSA share, where we had no control, but now is the time for me to step up my game. I end up staring at the food, trying to determine the best deals, trying to think on the spot what I could (and realistically would) make with a certain vegetable. Yesterday I came home from the market, with all that food, and Ben said "What's the plan for dinner?" I looked at the fridge and realized that we had a full fridge but I had no plans for what to do with all of that food. I know, there are tons of things I can do with it, but I still try to be inventive and make meals interesting and fun. Cooking is both a relaxing and creative outlet for me, and I love to try new things just to see if I can get something to work.

I've been using this time where I have no obligations to try out some really fun things with my cooking. Unfortunately I have a terrible habit of forgetting to take pictures - so I really need to remember that. Recent creations have included countless trays of apple crisp, tomato/mozz paninis (so many tomatoes!!!) and loads of pizza, as always. I also made a seriously tasty tomato basil soup, which lasted us for a whole week for lunch, and these fancy schmancy eggplant/mozz/roasted red pepper sandwiches. BUT, because I don't have plans in mind, or I often find inspiration, then realize I don't have the things I need, I sometimes feel stressed out about cooking, which, like running, is something I think I shouldn't feel in association.

So I'm going to be trying out something different. I'm going to be flipping through my cookbooks and foodblogs to find inspiration for up to 10 dishes, taking careful note of what ingredients I'll need if I don't already have it. Then I will shop accordingly. I'm going to start this for the next shopping trip, so in about 10ish days, and I will update when I've done so. In the mean time, I'm off to figure out what to DO with all of this food!

Exploring the city and enjoying the weather

Everyone keeps telling us that Montreal has a very early and short fall, followed by a long and frigid winter. Having spent 23 years in Cleveland, I like to think that I am a warrior of the cold (even though I never fail to shiver and complain the first time each season when I step outside and feel a cold wind on my face) and that I will be able to face the Montreal winter with no problem. Armed with fuzzy socks and lots of cold weather running gear, I should be okay.

Regardless, we are loving the heat right now. Maybe me, more than B, since I spent the summer in Alaska and didn't get that searing sun all summer. We have been spending a lot of time exploring the city, by bike and by foot, to get a better idea of our new city.

This weekend, we took advantage of B's free Friday and hiked up Mont-Royal. Okay, so it is technically not a mountain, just a large hill, and there is not really any hiking required...but when you take the stairs up to the top rather than using the path? It felt like I was back on Gavin in Alaska. Oh, my glutes! Oh, my calves! I saw runners taking both the path and the stairs, and decided that three weeks is more than enough time to declare myself moved in and acquainted enough to know where and when to run. I've realized that despite it being a huge part of my life, I have yet to talk about running on my blog. It is still in its infancy, so I think now is the perfect time to start. I went for some runs this weekend, so I'll write a separate post on that.

View from the top

Back to our adventuring on the mountain. We packed some snacks and hiked up, made it to the plateau park at the top, and napped in the sun and watched as the all-too-friendly squirrels harassed us and others for food. We played some frisbee, and decided to take a different way back down the hill - er - mountain. The mountain is pretty big, and is considered the center of the city, so there are paths that lead all the way around so that visitors can enter from dozens of streets at the bottom. It's a pretty confusing set-up (planned by the same engineer that designed Central Park, I'm told), so much so that there are street signs for the major paths. There's a really cool interactive map found here where you can learn all about the museums, park, and the mountain itself.

Basic map of best areas to cycle throughout the park

We decided to go on a dirt path, which led to another dirt path, which led to another...you see where this is going. We ended up basically bouldering down a pretty huge rock face, not because we were lost, but because we thought it would be interesting. Foolish, perhaps, since we were both wearing sandals, but we won't go there. I didn't take my camera out while we were climbing for what I feel are obvious reasons, but unfortunately the picture I took at the very bottom of the hill doesn't seem to accurately depict the scale of the hill or the ridiculousness of our choice.

Later in the evening I completed a short run, just to get myself kickstarted.
We finished the day with a low-key dinner (homemade pizza, wahoooo!) and a movie at home.

Jumping excitedly about great dough.

Saturday we went biking around the city a bit. No pictures, unfortunately, but I can tell you that we had a good time out. I went for another run, this time with B in tow. We came home and had leftovers, and B spent the rest of the night working on writing papers and annotating articles. Rough life!

It's Sunday night which means I am looking at the fridge and trying to decide what to do about dinners for the week. I definitely need to go to the market again, because we are out out out of food.

I'll let you know what great stuff I find!

Inventions and Crafts

We're back from the cottage! We had a great time. B has started his classes, and although they seem really challenging (what's up, grad school?) he is enjoying himself.

I've mentioned before that in previous years, the cottage has been a place where my dad just goes crazy with construction projects and creative hardware work. This weekend was no different. A few days ago, while on the phone with him, I mentioned in passing that my bed here was too low to the floor for my storage containers to fit underneath, but that because it is on a rolling metal frame (six posts instead of four, and wide wheels), I was a little uneasy to put it on the traditional risers you find in college dorm rooms. My dad said what he has said a million times in his life, "Take some measurements." I did, and this weekend he surprised me when he brought two lengths of four by fours into the cottage. He took my measurements and brought the wood back outside...then set to work with his chain saw. About 30 minutes later, he brought in six blocks with indents the right size for the wheels of the bed frame. He handed me a piece of sandpaper and I sanded them smooth. He even went so far as to glue carpeting to the bottom so that the risers wouldn't scratch the wood floors. What a guy! Here's my bed riser set in action, with my storage containers underneath the bed where they belong.

Don't mind the shiny cat toy next to the bed...

My dad completed another project this weekend, this one for my cats. My parents are so funny about the cats - because we take them everywhere with us, like some people do with their dogs, my parents (and B's) have taken to calling them the "grandkitties," as in, their furry little grandchildren. And oh, are they doting grandparents. My dad saw the cat's old scratching post and realized that not only was it in terrible condition (two years of scratching will do that!) but it was poorly made to begin with! He decided to rectify that with the creation of a new post. He took an anchor rope and secured it with nails, rather than glue, to one of the extra pieces of four by four from my bed risers, and screwed it to a piece of plywood and covered the whole thing with carpeting, to give it a classy (and non floor scratching) finishing touch. I didn't realize just how bad the old post was until we put it next to the new one.

I tied a feather toy around the top and the cats have gone crazy for it. They especially love the carpeted base - sometimes we just walk in the room and find them laying on their backs on it, scratching the post above. I think it looks really pretty refined, as far as scratching posts go, and I told my dad that if he ever retires I'll help him open up an Etsy shop for homemade cat structures. He just chuckled and said "Well now that would be interesting." This from the man who until recently, drove a truck whose license plate was "NO CATS." (I kid you not. Long story short, we always wanted a cat but were a strictly dog household. My brother finally got a cat when he went off to college, but then moved into a new apartment where he couldn't have the cat - so the cat came home with us. My dad lived with the cat [who of course loves my dad, and my dad pretends to dislike him back] and the license plate until just last year, when he bought a new truck and thought he should end his streak of hypocrisy.)

Here's the best picture I have of the brand new scratcher. It's a beaut!

It had been a while since my dad and I collaborated on a project like this - the last one was the lamp I made for my mom from a cheese grater and a colander  where my dad taught me how to strip wires and make a working bulb circuit using raw materials. Needless to say, it felt great to put our hands together and build something fun, if frivolous.

Hope everyone had as much fun over labour day as we did!

Labour Day

Labour day is this weekend, and we are so lucky to be meeting my family at our Ontario cottage. It has been a crazy summer, and because my brother spent June-August teaching in New Zealand, the whole family hasn't spent much time together since May. 

As I've said before, the cottage is an almost sacred place for us. When we were young, it was the time we looked forward to all year because of the things we got to do. Ever since my brother, the oldest, left for college, we've looked forward to going to the cottage because we are all there in the same place at the same time. 

It sounds sappy when I read what I've written, but I know in my heart that it is the way I truly feel. Being away from my family, even for only a few weeks now, always reminds me of how lucky I am to have a fabulous support system. They aren't perfect (whose family is?) and we don't always agree on things, but they the most dependable, upright, caring people I know.

I think we all agree that we are happiest when we are up at the cottage. It wasn't always that way - in fact I remember phases where the small space drove us to huge sibling fights and would end in my parents threatening to go home early - but thankfully that obviously isn't the case anymore. 

Love this photo of my dad, happy as a clam.

So I guess what I'm saying is…when you don't here from me this weekend, it is because I'm "unplugging," reading a good book, and probably singing some terrible '90's tunes with my siblings. Oh, who am I kidding? I will definitely be doing that!

Downsizing and Upgrading

When we lived in Oberlin, B and I had a huge apartment. An entire floor of a huge building, a long and skinny unit, with closets and cupboards and cubby spaces galore. We also had a huge amount of stuff. We lived in that place for two years, and in that time, we acquired A LOT OF THINGS. Like the old saying goes, like goldfish, we expanded to the available space.

In packing to move, I knew we were going to be moving to a smaller place, and now that I'm here, I LOVE IT. But at the time, back at my parents' place, the thought of going through all of my belongings and having to choose what was most important, what was worth keeping...that was hard, especially since we went through that whole process before we moved out of the old place (I took two car loads of things to the nearby Goodwill) and so part of me felt like, "Okay, not fair. I already did this!"

Part of the problem was that I was facing an epidemic at home, too. My parents are not hoarders by any means. But they are antique collectors, and so my childhood home has always been full of cool old things. As I've mentioned before, my dad is a tinker, a builder, an encourager-of-power-tool-use, and we have always had the spirit of "upcycling" instilled in us - way before upcycling was a thing. Find something old, take it home, and ideally actually follow through on the repurposing project you had in mind when you acquired the thing, but...as things often go, as many projects lay dormant in the same state they were when they came to the house. Anyway. When we went off to college (and every year that we come home with more things), my parents have always said that they don't mind storing stuff for us, antique or not. As a result, I have box after box of memorabilia, every binder and textbook from every course I took in college (although to be fair, those will be useful when I get a teaching job!), instruments, classroom decorations (?!), family items I've inherited...oh, and CLOTHES. SO. MUCH. CLOTHING. You would think that after I moved out my room in my parents' house would be empty, right? Well you would be wrong.

Fortunately I've changed my ways in terms of organization: I've gone from high school - every inch of floor covered in clothes, books, bedding; never able to find anything; not home often so basically living out of my car - to what B jokes about being obsessive about keeping the house picked up. He's always been somewhere in between, and we definitely experienced some atrocious periods living together in our last place, like when I was student teaching and he was finishing up exams and we couldn't use our oven because it was full of dirty dishes? Dark times, not going there again.

SO. In a smaller (but still quite large, especially for two people) apartment, how are we faring? I love it. I actually love having to economize and think about whether I really want or can afford to have something - not only for monetary reasons, also for space reasons. People here get rid of furniture and things they don't want by putting it on the curb - the free section on craigslist is barely used because people know that their things will be picked up by other people, far before the garbage truck comes. When we first got here, I was super tempted to stop and look at every table, bookshelf, etc. that we came across, because I felt sure that I needed a proper desk in order to work from home. Now I realize that the kitchen table works fine (great, actually), and that we don't need nor do we have the space for anything else. Things are going great. It's easier to keep this place clean (don't mind B's "cave" in the pictures below, that's another thing entirely) because it is smaller, but in all honesty I think it is the perfect size. Not too big, but it's no studio apartment for sure.


And now, a very cursory overview of the house...
First of all, a note about the lighting: Notice in all of these pictures that there are no lights on in the house! Lighting au natural, ladies and gentlemen. We have beautiful windows, a skylight above the kitchen, and two fire escapes that provide a nice place to sit in the evening and listen to the neighborhood. We're also subletting from some friends, which is great since it meant that we didn't need to haul or acquire furniture for the most part.

This is what you see when you first walk in the door, living room, our bikes, kitchen table. (And the big, beautiful windows!) 

Walking further into the room, you can see the fireplace (gas - not sure if it works?) and our awesome hack coffee table (rubbermaid container, conveniently holding all of my yoga gear, B's soccer equipment, bike trainer). Notice the beautiful wood flooring! 

View of the door and entryway...

Kitchen! I LOVE the counter with the stools. So nice to sit there and eat breakfast, and the cats like to sit on the stools and watch while I prepare meals. Too cute.

Our galley kitchen, complete with (busted?) dishwasher, lots of cupboards, tiny pantry.

Bedroom (and cat). 

Side of bedroom. To the left of the frame is a closet, in front is a full bath, book shelf that we're using to store B's summer clothes.

Stairs to go down to the lower level...Almost like a spiral staircase in that the stairs in the turn are triangular - thus, I almost tumble down the stairs every single day. Still not used to it!

B's "cave," our friend's boxes that we're storing for him until he gets in town, washer and dryer in that closet (WOO!), ikea lofted bed (and cat), and all of the stuff for the kitties. 

The weather is lovely we're off to take a walk and do some exploring! 

la vie de jeune

It's official: I've only been here a few days and I already love the city. Any reservations I had back in April when we were considering moving here (heck, any reservations I had last week about moving here) are removed from my mind whenever we take our daily walks.

It's so much fun being here. The city is extremely bike friendly, with separate bike lanes on most major streets, and most car operators respectful of bikers.


We rode the metro out to marche jean-talon yesterday and had a great afternoon. This is definitely the place to go if you want high-quality produce on the cheap. We found a yummy Indian fast food place (as well as several other small, to-go style restaurants) inside the marketplace and ordered a bagful of samosas to share. Mmmmm, samosas. In the end, we managed to stock our kitchen and got so much food it was nearly impossible to make it home. All for about $25!

Potatoes, cauliflower, broccoli, onions, green peppers, eggplant, asparagus, carrots, GIANT basil plant, garlic, 8lbs of apples...

Of course, that didn't give us any dried goods, so we went to the Metro (grocery store, not the subway...) and stocked up on pasta, rice, couscous, and some baking supplies. For as inexpensive as it is to shop at les marches, it is that much more expensive to purchase items from the supermarche.
I'll do a separate post on our progress on frugal eating in a few weeks, after I understand what I'm doing myself!

For now we've definitely got enough food for the next 10 days or so, with dry goods to last for a loooooong time.

And now I must go plant my basil!

je voyage a la montreal!

Tomorrow I leave for our new home in Montreal!

B arrived last week and has been settling in, so the good news is that it won't be like walking into a totally untouched apartment. I'm really looking forward to experiencing summer in the city. I've only ever spent time in cities in the middle of winter, and since Montreal has a reputation for pretty - and pretty harsh - winters, I'm excited that I'll get the chance to frolic outside in summer and fall (my favourite season!) before we head indoors for the cold season.


All of my emotions are mixed up right now:

Nervous (about moving to a city where I am not a fluent speaker).

Excited (to start a new chapter).

Sad (to be leaving my family).

Happy (to be seeing B).

Anxious (to drive 11 hours with the cats in the car).

Hopeful (that everything will be a challenge, but a welcome one)!


And now I'm off! See you in Canada!

Nine Years of "That One Time at Band Camp"

I have been to band camp nine, count 'em, NINE times. Four of those were my own camps as a student. As a student I looked forward to that week of overnight band camp the entire summer. Our whole band did. That's just a) marching band culture and b) the atmosphere that our director developed.

I'm sure everyone reading this has either attended band camp themselves or has seen American Pie: Band Camp, so everyone reading this either knows exactly what I'm talking about or actually has no clue whatsoever. Spoiler alert: American Pie is not actually anything close to what real band camp is like - at least not any camp I've attended, taught at, or heard about.

Look out, flashback to 2003 here, guys:

"Badass" at band camp? UGH HIGH SCHOOL WHAT?

I WAS THE band nerd, in every musical ensemble that existed at our high school, taking on leadership roles in each one, and exhibiting never-ending enthusiasm for all things band, especially marching band. NB: Except might I add that I was also a lettering track and cross country runner and also obviously very cool. Obviously?
Also our marching band is a "competition band," which for those of you not part of this culture, means we not only forego playing "popular music" at the risk of being misunderstood by football goons and their parents, but also dedicate every weekend between August and November to a Friday Football game/Saturday Competition double-duty routine.

Anyway, it's funny because for as much as I loved band, and although I already knew that I would be majoring in music, I made it very clear to myself that my fourth camp was my last (going so far as to call the photo album from the last year of high school "Last band camp EVERRRRRRRRRRRR"), I think in part so that I wouldn't be disappointed if I was never asked to come back as staff, as the chosen few music majors are.

Obviously things have changed. Fast forward to college: Oberlin does not have a "real" marching band (D III school) and I had no interest in participating, but now I'm back on the bandwagon (HA) and have been teaching marching band for five years. Although I was in denial after arriving at my conservatory, where people often scoff at marching band, I can no longer lie about this: It was fun as a student, and it is fun as a teacher. I like teaching marching band. Plus I can honestly say that I watch kids grow up from teeny tiny baby freshmen with no friends to confident, competent individuals in the ninth grade with so many friends by the end of the summer. Plus, as a teacher, I always see it as a joy to have opportunities to teach, even if I'm not working on Beethoven - Hey, who's to say there's no merit in marching band? I've gotten over that personal down-talking because I do know that this is important in the lives of these kids, as it was to me. It's something stable, fun, communal, difficult (you try putting your mouth on a metal mouthpiece when it is 40 degrees outside and sleeting, then trudge try to stand perfectly straight and move in time around on a field while producing a good tone) and incredibly rewarding.





Since we'll be moving to Canada, I have no idea what our summers will be like in the coming years - but I really hope that I'll be able to stick with teaching band during the summer. This year it's just two weeks of teaching for me (in the past it's been as much as five or six weeks) and I am so glad I took the time to do it. Great kids, great program, great fun.

Stranger on the Water

Hello! I'm back from my week of traveling and unplugging. I'm the fourth generation to vacation on the same lake in Ontario, a little place in cottage country. I've never missed a summer visit, and I've often travelled up there in the fall to do some kayaking and photography, as well as in the winter for weekend snowmobiling trips.

The cottage, as you can imagine, is a really special place for the whole family. Quarters are cramped: There is a small kitchen and dining area, living room, and, recently added, a bathroom with shower. The cottage is fairly small, everyone sleeps in bunk beds in rooms with open ceilings.

A few years ago, I was usually the last person to bed at night, but now, it's my sister. At night, when I settle into my lower bunk, I can see the glow of the lamp she's using while she reads a James Patterson novel (lake favourites for their fast, easy reading), and I hear the creak of the old easy chair in the corner as she shifts her weight. More persistent  than the creaking chair, however, are the sounds of my brother and my father's snores. My father's Statler Brothers tape plays on a cassette player in the next room over, the singers' voices slightly warped from time and excessive use. A dog (or two, or three) cozies up in the crescent shape formed by my body. My mother, having gone to bed an hour or more before, follows her maternal instinct out of her bedroom and into the living room, where she tells my sister that it is late and isn't she tired? I drift off to sleep knowing my sister has gone off to the bathroom to complete her night time rituals and will soon come back and climb into the bunk above mine. All I hear now is the sound of the forest outside my window and the occasional hum of the water heater turning on in the rafters.

Halfway through the night I will wake, hot from too many blankets and warm bodies next to my own in a tiny bed. I will think about shooing away the dogs, but know they are so happy to be there, so I will shed the blankets. In the early hours of the morning, I will wake again, this time chilled and doubtless halfway through a dream; the dogs will be lying on the pile of blankets on the floor. I will return to my dream, a dream about things that scare me or about things that do not. Being as relaxed as I am while I am here does odd things to my dreams, allowing my mind to take kernels of ideas and run with them in a way that it cannot when I am at home, stressed and anxious even as I sleep.

In the morning, I awake with the fog of a dream still in the front of my consciousness. I am the first of the children to rise. I grumble to the bathroom, all but ignoring anyone who I may pass in the kitchen on the way. I make my breakfast and coffee, and as with all meals up here, unless it is raining, I take my meal outside to the dock and enjoy it there. My parents are likely already finished with their food and are reading their books, or searching for signs of the day's forecast in the sky surrounding the lake. The only radio station available, MooseFM, might be broadcasting a song that was popular ten years prior through the kitchen window.

By late morning, my siblings and any guests have risen to greet the day and the family is laying out plans for the day. It will likely include one or more of the following lake-vacation activities: "Watersports," an all encompassing term meant to include skiing, tubing, "winging," etc.
A trip to the other, larger lakes in the spring-fed system.
Paddle boat, canoeing, kayaking.
Rope swinging, rock jumping, frog catching.
And a various sundry of other beautiful outdoor activities.

If it rains, books are read, epic games of monopoly and risk are played, and projects are completed in the woodshop - and the interesting thing is that I often remember the things that happened at night (games galore) and on rainy days better than the raucous good time that we had out on the lake.

A tangent: When I was younger, I was obsessed with building things, creating things - it comes from being the daughter of two engineers. In addition, I, like many other girls in my generation, grew up with American Girl Dolls. More important to me than the dolls, however, was the American Girl Magazine. It was like the Boys' Life for girls - except that it was unapologetically aimed toward building strong, creative, clever, independent young women. In fact the whole line of publications that American Girl produced during the late 90's - early aught's drastically shaped me, as a girl and as a person that went through person-type life phases.
I read (and possibly still own, somewhere on the bookshelves at my parents' home):

As well as several books which appear to be out of print but I absolutely loved, including one about starting your own business broken down by industry (everything from lemonade stand to lawn care business to babysitting to greeting card company to zine author). Should I ever give birth to daughters, you can bet that these books will be gracing their own shelves.

Okay so long story short, I was a pretty industrious kid, and to this day, I've held on to the sentiment of "Well why would I buy something or pay someone to do something if I can make or do it myself?" I loved going with my dad to the hardware store, and he encouraged this behavior by purchasing tools and odd materials throughout my childhood...and a scroll saw for me in the sixth grade - I had asked for one. There was no better place for me to bond with my dad over tools than at the cottage. With his help I made countless 90's fads from scratch: Hobby horse (2x4's, yarn, paint, screws), my own set of "flip sticks" which, okay, did not look like the real thing but I am 100% serious that I played with my version even after a relative bought me the store kind for my birthday (pvc pipe, electrical tape),

a rubber stamp depicting a heart and a crescent moon which I used to decorate my own stationary THANK YOU VERY MUCH (rubber sheeting, wood, wood glue, ink), hula hoop (also pvc and electrical tape), stencils for decorating tshirts and posters with spray paint...you get the idea. All off this happened on vacation at the cottage.

This post turned into a lot of different things, so I'll stop there. Needless to say, you can probably tell that the place means a lot to me. I'm so fortunate to have had something like this available for my entire life, and I sure hope my own future kids are cottage kids like me.