Hi all: to those kind people who keep reading, I realise that I haven’t been following my regular blog posting schedule. I wanted to let you know that I will not be posting anything again until Tuesday 20 August… between my new job and a family emergency (fret not – both JJ and I are OK!) I need to take a wee break.
I will return on Tuesday 20 August refreshed, relaxed and re-witted (I hope, anyway!)
Wishing you all a wonderful week,
Kristina
Well, I’ve been trying for a couple of years now to become rich and famous. However, the knitting blog/foodie/rant thing is not leading to the big cash grab that I had hoped.
So, I’m going to take another tack. I’ve decided to run for President of the United States.
That’s right.
“President Brouhaha” has a nice ring to it, no? (I actually prefer “The Right Honourable Brouhaha” but I figure the perqs and benefits are better with the top gig south of the border).
And I think JJ would make a stunning First Man, don’t you?
Besides, if Paris Hilton can do it… so can I!!!
I mean, what does SHE…
…have that I don’t have to electrify an entire nation?
Yeah yeah yeah… huge breasts, blonde hair, and billions of dollars. Not to mention a folding lawn lounger. I know, I know. But surely that kind of thing is passe, no?!?
And besides, anyone can become a blonde:
Hey, do you think Paris was born with that colour of hair? Come on. If you’re that gullible, can I count on your vote in November? Because I’m, like, you know, ready to lead too, eh?!
Oh, that reminds me. Oops. I forgot that I’m not an American citizen -so I guess I can’t run for prez after all.
So much for that bright idea. I guess it’s back to the day job now.
Happy Thursday!
Now that I have a brand spanking new job back with the Tenant Advocates, I’ve been doing some high-end legal research. Here are some of the results:
The more things change…. I figured JJ would like that one too, because of the puir wee scottish tenant wearin the kilt. That should be guid for a full scale “bloody English” rant! Heh heh.
Here’s a more modern depiction of The Landlord, just to be fair:
Yeah, OK, landlord – now, can you replace my 20 year old stove and 25 year old fridge, do you think?!
And then of course there are those situations dealing with luxury rental accommodations:
Sigh.
I’m depressed now, so I’d best get back to my real job. But before I do… something that has been plaguing me. I must admit I’m very curious to know how many people read this blog for some reason. In my brain, I have it at a dozen people or so – but I think there are a few more than that.
Anyway, I thought a poll would be a safe way for people to let me know whether they read or not, and still keep lurking. So, if you wouldn’t mind, would you just take a moment and answer the poll below? I can’t find out who you are, but I may get to learn that it is actually a baker’s dozen who read the blog, which would make me happy (my standards are rather low).
So, many thanks in advance. I wish I could promise all respondents a prize… but then again, I won’t know who you are. So, I’m off the hook. ($#*$&@$#*&#* lawyers, eh?!)
Happy Wednesday!
Hello all: I should note that the subject line is rather misleading as this post will actually not contain any direct wording from our greatly esteemed PM, the Right Honourable Stephen Harper.
Mr. Harper is the guy on the right, in case you had a problem figuring it out.
WARNING/ATTENTION/ACHTUNG: this post will contain a political rant which might offend some Canajan readers, and which will probably make no sense to readers from other countries. You may, accordingly, wish to skip to the (blurry) photos at the end. Consider yourselves warned.
Mr. Harper has, however, spent lots of time in recent months apologising to all and sundry for stuff which happened away back before he was born. Most recently (and in fact, he managed to pull off this one on a long weekend when people aren’t typically paying all that much attention), he apologised for an incident that took place in 1914 – 376 Sikh and other people from the Indian south continent came into Vancouver on a boat and were not let in to Canada. Many were murdered upon their return to Calcutta, after spending two months on a dock in the Vancouver harbour.
Now, it’s not for me to say that the Canadian government shouldn’t apologise for that, really. But, in fact, the community he tried to apologise to has rejected the apology, saying it should come from the House of Commons rather than from Mr. King Stephen Harper trying to gain favour in their community when he shows up for a festival.
And, frankly, I don’t know if these apologies matter whether they come from the legislature or not. However, it seems that he should have figured this out by now because he’s already issued apologies to the First Nations (without offering up any cash to back it up.
He’s also apologised to the Chinese-Canadian community for a head tax imposed on newcomers between 1885 and 1923 – and offered compensation to those who actually paid the tax, or their children. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but wouldn’t most people that got penalised under this old system be dead now? And I’ve had at least one client who tried to negotiate the compensation scheme and was told “without original documents, you get nothing.
Now, I think that Mr. Harper is actually quite shrewd (or rather, that his advisors are geniuses) by hitting on a great way to deflect from what’s going on now – just apologise for what has happened in the past. I mean, we are a nation of people who are socialised to say “sorry” if someone else bumps into you on the street. And – they say “sorry” too and everyone moves on.
So, the apology as a political concept makes a lot of sense… and hey, the guy is apologising for stuff which happened well before he was even born! How Canadian… and how dishonest.
Why dishonest? Because this party is doing a whole hell of a lot of stuff right now that someone fifty years down the road will no doubt be apologising for. Stuff such as decimating our health care system, reducing public pension entitlements for those who have paid in for 40 years or more, and so forth.
But hey, someone’s sorry – so that must count. But you don’t see him shedding any tears either:
So, Mr. Harper, thank you for apologising, and I’m sorry too. In fact, I’m sorry that you’re not offering some of my homemade preserves to those who have been wronged in years past, such as my tomato jam:
… or my jalapeno/green bell pepper jelly:
So, Mr. Harper, should you read this, have my people call my people and we’ll set up a proper “apology basket” for you to give to everyone who has been historically wronged. JJ is, after all, retired, and has lots of time to can produce.
Happy Tuesday!
Well, I couldn’t help myself. You see, I had to go to the local farmers’ market on Saturday to replenish our stocks of produce and fruit.
(And, of course, a wee treat for JJ: apricot loaf!
Looks decent, eh? It’s all gone now!!)
Then I got home and realised that I’ve been bringing in produce etc at a rate that JJ we just can’t seem to come up with.
What to do with all of the leftover stuff? Why, get my cauldron going, of course!
And find my special preserving outfit to go with the cauldron…
And… voila!!!
This one is blueberry and apricot jam with lemon zest and lime juice. It’s my first effort in making jam without pectin, which just means that you have to boil the fruit mixture a lot longer. There is also a little extra ingredient in there… cherry tomatoes (I didn’t have enough of the blueberries and apricots, so had to improvise. Not telling my chief taster, JJ, about the tomatoes though!!!)
And here’s another experiment:
This one is mixed bell pepper jelly with rice vinegar and rosemary. The experimental component: midway through I realised I didn’t have enough sugar. So, I’m not sure it will set. But what the hey…
I also had a heap of fresh herbs, so decided to make some Sassy Scarborough Fair oil.
Parsley, garlic, rosemary and thyme… with some lemon zest added. The garlic and the lemon are the “sassy” components. I don’t like sage.
So, please do wish me luck – and don’t tell JJ about the tomatoes, eh?
Happy Monday! Today is a holiday for us up here – yippee, yahoo, etc!!! No big plans although there will surely be some patio or other calling our names out later this afternoon.
The two topics addressed in my subject line today, by the way, are meant to be read separately. I just thought it was too anal-retentive-lawyer-lingo-like of me to put (a); (b) in the subject line.
WARNING/AVERTISSEMENT/ACHTUNG! Today’s post is excessively verbose, even by my wordy standards. Don’t say I didnae warn ye.
Today was my last official day at my legal research workplace. I would have been a bit sad to leave but they’re finding they can’t get rid of me that easily – I’m going in tomorrow to excavate clean out my office. I’m only moving one floor up in the same building (we Legal Aid types can be fairly incestuous) and the person who will be using my office won’t be starting until mid-August, so had no real incentive to put the full push on for today. Also, I have to go back next week Tuesday for my official going away pizza lunch.
So, I was well surprised to get this lovely gift today:
This lovely bunch of sunflowers was presented to me by the reception/support staff J. and L. I hadn’t expected this at all and was almost moved to tears quite chuffed – particularly when they told me they had picked sunflowers because it was something different and I’m a weirdo they thought I would prefer that. I believe they will miss me because I was by far the noisiest person in an otherwise very quiet office sent them lots of Email jokes, bitched at them about consulted them on important issues, and brought in snack food.
J. runs the office lottery pool, and has also kindly granted me a dispensation to keep playing with the research office team (only after I whined at length that if they won next week when I’d kicked in my $2 a week for the past year and a half, I would sue).
Anyway, please accept my thanks, J. and L. (as I was too verklempt frazzled to tell you properly yesterday). And I thank you for providing a very friendly presence in the office (it’s so nice to come into work and have friendly people say “hey and how are you”) – and, more importantly, for providing that invisible and seamless support and help that is really so invaluable but which is probably not always recognised just because you’re so good at your jobs. You’ve made my work life a lot easier during my time at the research office, and I thank you for that.
Sniff. Sob.
Where was I?
Oh yes, generosity. This very hectic week was also greatly improved when I received a swap package from Clarabelle. Unfortunately, because J. and L. have not committed to running my life in addition to making my work life smoother, I can’t show you my own photos right now. However, she sent me a 1200 yd merino laceweight skein of yarn from the Natural Dye Studio and the colourway looks something like this:
She also enclosed these brilliant UK sweeties:
.. and the UK version of Skittles (one of my favourites – and she didn’t even know that!):
Clarabelle has also mentioned that my recent obsession about preserving food has inspired her to make some jam. Huzzah! So, now I’m mulling over whether I can make jam out of these stems I had to cut off from the sunflowers from J. and L. to make them fit into my vase:
Sunflower stem jelly, anyone? No? Hey – suspend your disbelief… and there is a long weekend coming up for me after all. This coming Monday is “Simcoe Day” – the Toronto excuse for “you need a long weekend in August”. And so we do. The fact that the holiday is called after a long-dead white settler guy shouldn’t really matter.
However, I’ve often wondered why they don’t just call these summer long weekend Mondays “Beer Day”, being in Canada and all. This trend has already started here by the way… the long weekend organised around “Victoria Day” after this person who was born on 24 May:
… has morphed into a whole weekend which many of us Canajans affectionately refer to as the “May Twofer Weekend”.
Huh?!? you people not lucky enough to be living in Canada are saying? Herein starts the grammar lesson.
Well, not quite yet. The necessity of the grammar lesson was brought home to me when, on the way home from my “last day at the research office” dinner, I told JJ that I wanted to deke into the LCBO to buy a six of beer. He started to laugh at me but I was too busy deking into the LCBO to investigate the cause of the laughter until he drove up in his chariot to carry me home with my six-pack.
He then telt me “Well, lassie, ye’re always so big on the grrrrammar, yet ye’re saying “a six of beer” and that makes no grrramatical sense”.
And (as almost always), he is right. It doesnae make any grammatical sense… unless yer Canajan, apparently. Since he has been some 18 years in Canada, it is surely not the first time that JJ has heard reference to “a six/twelve/twentyfour/2-4/twofer” of beer, and I of course reminded him of this. He said (and I quote):
Weeeeeeellllll, that still doesnae mek it right, hen.
Sigh. But of course it is right, in the Canajan context. We buy so much beer, what does it matter if we say the word “pack” after the quantity?!? Our dialect has evolved so that we can avoid this unnecessary verbiage. And, by the way, JJ well knows this – he was just being difficult.
Anyone here ever had to learn how to decline nouns in Latin/Ancient Greek/other foreign language lessons where the language distinguishes the noun ending depending upon how you’re using the noun? If you didn’t, you might as well skip this part of the rant. I, as a young lassie, had to attend Greek School where we were forced to learn this stuff by rote – but it’s not a concept that applies to the English language.
This is the updated version of the book of my nightmares when my parents forced me to go to Greek School instead of letting me attend Brownies. Now older and wiser, I'm (somewhat) grateful... but anyway.
So, let me try an example from Greek school. Under the direction of teachers who had been kicked out of Greece because they were too cruel to stay there and ended up coming to Kingston, Ontario with the sole purpose of whacking kids with a ruler Kirie Yiorgho, Kirie Pavlo and Kirie Kosta (“Kirie” meaning “Master”), we’d have to recite this sort of thing over and over (and over) again, using the ever popular noun naftees (sailor):
SINGULAR NOMINATIVE: o naftees (“the sailor went out into the boat and sailed it”)
SINGULAR GERUNDIVE: tou naftees (“the boat belonging to the sailor got stolen”)
SINGULAR DATIVE: tou naftee (“I’m giving the boat to the sailor“)
SINGULAR ACCUSATIVE/VOCATIVE: NAFTEE! (Hey, sailor!)
PLURAL NOMINATIVE: ee naftess (“the sailors went out into the boat and sailed it”)
PLURAL GERUNDIVE: tou nafton (“the boat belonging to the sailors got stolen”)
PLURAL DATIVE: tou naftes (“I’m giving the boat to the sailors“)
PLURAL ACCUSATIVE/VOCATIVE: NAFTES! (Hey, sailors!)
(I’m still trying to figure out, by the way, why in a Greek school in Kingston, Ontario we had to keep going on about sailors and the other Greek textbook favourite, the soldier [stratiotis]. I’m also trying to figure out why I decided to blog about this because now it’s all ringing in my head. Oh, and by the way, it’s even more complicated in Ancient Greek – as every idiot Greek Canadian like me who managed to get into a university where they offered Ancient Greek and signed up in the first year thinking “Bird course!”… WRONG. But that is perhaps another topic for another blog post… then again, maybe NOT).
Anyway, if you’re still with me, here is my rendition of the noun declension for “beer” in Modern Canajan:
SIX PACK: a six of beer
12 PACK: a 12 of beer (NEVER “a dozen beer”)
CASE OF 24 BEER: a 2-4; a twenty-four; a twofer ** please note the omission of “of beer”
There are also strange variations on the theme as one local beer company insists on packing its beer in nine and eighteen bottle packs, just to be perverse different. I’m not sure of the grammatical implications of that, but I’ll keep you posted.
Oh, and please note: in Canajan, the plural of “beer” is … “beer”. NOT “beers”. If ever you are in Canada and you say “I had too many beers last night”, you will be instantly identified as Murcan. It’s easier if you’re from the UK because then Canajans can talk the common language of “pints”. The ordinary English grammar rules apply to the term “pint”, as far as I’m aware.
Oh, did I ever happen to mention that my undergraduate degree is in linguistics? Probably I had managed to avoid that admission, as that should be enough to drive even my very staunchest readers away. Sigh. Too late now!
Anyway, on that note, happy weekend to all… and I hope you enjoy it with whatever beverage you choose, but preferably beer (plural).
Cheers!
Kristina
I was in a very fabulous gift shop near my workplace called The Outer Layer (and if anyone reading is in Toronto and anywhere near here, visit! You won’t be sorry!) to pick up a gift for a departing colleague and managed to score this for myself as well…
And it wasn’t even PayDay! But I just couldn’t resist. It contained stitches I haven’t even seen in the Barbara Walker series.
So, while at the cash, one of the very, very kind salespeople there said “Well, did you notice this book… and do you eat meat, by the way?”
So, of course, I had to pick up a copy.
Now, this book discusses every type of meat possible – including armadillo, squirrel and various other types of roadkill. So, that should speak to the comprehensiveness of the Field Guide to Knitting, at the very least.
I suggested to them that the Healthy Butcher, just down the street, should put up a sign pointing in this shop’s direction to sell the Field Guide to Meat. The helpful salesperson said (I think seriously) “well, they’re into organic meat, so I don’t know that they would advertise this book”.
But well they should – and well they should also highlight the very fabulous gift shop down the street. Where else do you get this as a gift for spending money?
I display the gift next to my spare glasses so you see how small it is. It’s actually a fold-up shopping bag about the size of the one I showed here the other day. And, given that I tend to leave my abundance of shopping bags either at the office or the apartment when I most need them, this fold-up version is most welcome.
You too can get one for free if you live in Toronto and spend… well, I won’t tell you how much… at the Outer Layer. Or you can just go in and buy one for yourself.
And, now you know you can look forward to recipes for armadillo in future on this blog. NOT.
Happy Thursday!
Now, I’m the first to admit that I can become rather obsessive about hobbies – none more than food prep right now, apparently.
This was my haul from my raid on the local library the other day. Sigh. My knitting has been suffering from this latest revival of Kristina Does Food… and More Food… and Still More Food.
The obsession leads me to do very odd things – like boiling vats of stuff for four five hours in 30C weather:
This was a cauldron of beef stock I made on Sunday after our little $230.00 foray to Fiesta Farms, my new favourite supermarket too (and, I hasten to say, JJs – he was personally responsible for about $150.00 of the acquisitions). They cater to Europeans like me, which means (among other things) that at any given time there are lots of humungous and dirt cheap cuts of meat intended for soups and stews, like the Tyrannosaurus Rex beef knuckle shown above at the top centre of the pot. Two beef knuckles cost $2.25 – and now I have four litres of stock, 14 consomme ice cubes and at least three cups of shredded meat for soup.
Mmmmm.
Now, while at Fiesta Farms I promised myself I would not buy anything to preserve this week as it was too hot. And – I didn’t! However, when excavating the fridge to find room for the new purchases, I found an embarrassment of berries which were past their prime.
So, what was a frugal food obsessive to do?
Why, make jam, of course!!! I call this KBs Secret Cherberry Jam. The “secret” bit is that little white blob, which is cheesecloth containing fresh rosemary and pink peppercorns. Yes, rosemary and peppercorns.
The household jury of one (JJ, of course – because you know what? I don’t even EAT jam!!) has rendered his verdict – two thumbs up. He didnae know about the rosemary – when I told him after he tried it, he said “That’s just weirrrrrrd, lassie”. I note, however, that this did not stop him from polishing off the better part of a 250 ml jar yesterday, though).
I was actually thinking of adding some of this instead of the rosemary:
Now, that would have been really weirrrrd, I decided. Also, I’m giving some away for gifts and I’ve found that rose water is something that people either love or detest. I’m sure some of this will find its way into some jar at some point, though – stay tuned!
Anyway, the recipe (my adaptation of a blueberry jam recipe in the Bernardin Guide to Home Preserving):
Put four cups of crushed berries (I used strawberries, blueberries and cherries – and yes, I know cherries aren’t berries – I’m trying for pithiness for once, OK?!) in a saucepan. Add one 57 g packet of fruit pectin, three tablespoons of lime juice, two large sprigs fresh rosemary and 20 pink peppercorns, and one half vanilla bean. Bring to a boil over high heat. Mix in three cups of sugar and bring back to a rolling (i.e. big raging) boil and let boil one minute. Pour into sterilized and heated 250 ml (one cup) preserving jars. You can either keep this in the fridge for up to one month or process by boiling for 10 minutes. Yields six jars.
But hark! Is that something else in a jar that you spy in the back row at the left? Why, yes. Having ranted on last week about crazy hot foods, I decided to try to make my very own hot sauce.
Basically, I boiled about one litre of leftover white wine I had let go to vinegar (my frugality knows no bounds. How do you think I pay for all that yarn?!), about an inch worth of rice vinegar I’d had sitting around for some time, and a cup of white vinegar for about 5 minutes or untit it reduced back to a litre (four cups, approximately). I kept it hot and put the following things into a heated 1 litre mason jar:
I’m going to let this sit for three weeks or until it all turns red, whichever comes first. We’ll see what happens. But it looks purdy, though – doesn’t it?
Any day now, I reckon I’ll get a call from the Food Network offering me my own segment on how to recycle food. I promise I won’t forget my friends, though. Really.
Happy Wednesday!
Hey, I was out having a fun time with the Tenant Advocates yesterday evening…
…when I came home last evening to this dire message from my landlord:
Auggggh!!! I’m in arrears!!! Will they file to evict me?
Hmm… I’ve just spoken with my new in-house counsel, Gabriel.
He advised that it wouldn’t be worth their while to file to evict me, as it would cost them $150.00.
As prudent counsel, however, he did also advise that if they should file to evict me I should bring up the fact that I overpaid the previous month according to their ledger:
Gabriel did advise that, if the worst happens and they file to evict me, I can claim this $0.68 overpayment as part of a relief from forfeiture eviction (sorry – I happen to like the old language “relief from forfeiture” as it really brings home the feudal aspect of the whole thing… but I’m a bit old school that way) argument before the Landlord and Tenant Board.
However, I decided to do the wise thing and just rectify the situation by payment.
This is only because I don’t know that the Board would accept the “I’m maths challenged” argument, especially when landlord/tenant is my chosen field of legal practice.
However, I’m just a bit pissed off right now – I figure it cost the landlord more than than the $8.86 outstanding to have their staff person print this off and have another staff member hand-deliver it to my door fourteen days later. But this is why the landlords keep making money and fools like me keep paying them rent, I suppose.
Now, if I wanted some real drama, I’d skip Gabriel’s opinion and get my real legal team onto it:
It’s actually such a big legal team that they don’t all fit in one photo! Check it out!
(You will recognise JJ in front. He is the honourary security person. We need him around because people like this start creating commotions in the street by nearly running over a cyclist, then getting out of his car and nearly decking the cyclist, then when someone like me intervenes and says she’s calling the cops, gets out and calls the cops himself, parks his car in one lane on a major thoroughfare in the city at rush hour, then gets laughed at by the cops when they finally show up:
Need I say more, really?)
Anyway, even more members of my legal team:
…and still more again:
… and our glorious mascot, who is a(n) (in)famous actress and has actually been on TV!!!
So, who needs to fear The Landlord when you have all these people on your team?!?
Stay tuned… because if I ever face an eviction hearing for non-payment of rent for $8.68 outstanding, I will be calling in the media.
(And, by the way, it wouldn’t be the first time this has happened. I’ve seen many clients with an eviction order for non-payment where the eviction order says the landlord owes THEM several hundred dollars. Such is the beauty of the landlord/tenant law in Ontario.)
But enough shop talk!
A very happy Tuesday to you all.
Regards,
Kristina
Hey!! Wait a minute!!! I just finished both pairs of Felted Clogs and already they’re walking away?
Man alive!
Ingrates!
You're grounded!!!!
Ah, no… not really. You see, I like my new clogs very much – and JJ is well chuffed too. He was prancing around in them breaking them in most of yesterday evening.
After a few setbacks, the knitting of the clogs went swimmingly. Mine were slightly easier than JJ’s – I can’t decide whether that’s because I preferred my colourway to the one I picked for him, or because they were smaller. Hmm.
I highly recommend this pattern to anyone looking for fabulous slippers – it’s very clever as it incorporates a double sole. Who needs Air Soles, anyway?! And, I knitted my pair in just one evening!
JJs were men’s medium (size 11 US/Cdn), mine were size small (6 US/Cdn – quite a bit smaller than my true shoe size, so thanks to Amy for the tip to knit a size smaller than I needed.
Yarn for both was by Brown Sheep. JJs were made with two strands of Lamb’s Pride Worsted, one Turkish Olive and one Kiwi. Mine were made with Lamb’s Pride Bulky, so I only had to use one strand – the colours are Lotus Pink and Limeade.
(If you’re planning to make these and can get ahold of Lamb’s Pride Bulky, I would highly recommend it. It’s great for felting and I found it easier to work with the one strand.)
I used 9 mm needles for both.
Actually, I’m thinking of wearing mine to work tomorrow as I happen to have matching accessories:
Then again, it might be a tad hot. But they’d look really fancy at the Summit of the Tenant Advocates planned for tomorrow after work – and yes, I know it’s Monday. Is there some rule that you can’t go drinking on Mondays?
In preparation for the toll that deep fried spring rolls and copious amounts of Moosehead will inevitably take, I made sure and got my Vitamin C all day yesterday with my new favourite summer thirst quencher: salted lime drink or “Indian limeade”.
I know that might sound odd. Try it. Miles better than Gatorade or Lucozade for killing thirst. This drink originated in India and I first tried it years ago at an Indian buffet place – and loved it. However, I never actually thought to try making any myself… until I came across a recipe for it in an excellent cookbook by Sybil Kapoor called Taste. (This book is fabulous – she combines all sorts of tastes you wouldn’t even dream of mixing, to great results.)
I’m now making it in litre jugs – approximately one cup of fresh lime juice to three cups of water. Then add salt to taste (I probably put in two teaspoons per litre, but I’m addicted to salt). Chill and serve over ice. Ms Kapoor suggests grinding in some black pepper – an excellent suggestion.
So, I’m now feeling all cool, comfy and exotic with my new beverage and my fabulous clogs!
Happy Monday!
Bespoke By Brouhaha 