Random seasonal observations...

{Frankfurt Christmas Market}

This November has been warm and nice... Not beach party warm, but not very seasonable either. Everyone around me seems to be yearning for snow at this point, but I'm not. You can't prefer this rainy in-between to snow, they say? Oh yes I do. In fact, every morning when we step out, for a second I get lost in time and imagine that maybe, I'm back in Germany again, where this exact weather (slightly damp, but comfortable, with beautifully eerie foggy mornings and breaks in the clouds) was typical from November to March. For a second, it might be that I'm going shopping, wicker basket in hand, to buy brotchen and pastries like Holidays weckmann for the incessant, welcome flow of visitors from home... Then I turn around, and there is LP, smiling to me, proudly holding his green frog-face plastic umbrella.

All the neighborhood is now decked with lights, and since I have such an automatic association with snow about them, the feeling of Holidays in Europe is even stronger. This time of year, I always especially wish I could be there, at the Weihnachtenmarkt (outdoor Christmas market) , drinking mulled wine in a ceramic mug, smelling everything (candied nuts, gingerbread, sausage, anise, fried potato pancakes)...

I read an article in True/Slant where an American who recently visited Canada pointed out how surprisingly early the Holidays decorations, lights and music were present. She then pointed out that we don't have the buffer of Thanksgiving in November to properly and officially launch the Holiday season, hence "hints of Christmas" are starting to appear right after Halloween. It's absolutely true (and you usually see your first store Christmas tree and festive ad on the first week of November), even though just like our southern neighbors in only really kicks in at this time of year. It's a funny remark nonetheless, because before that I had really assumed that this was a generalized trend and not a Canuck peculiarity, maybe some kind of a pushy and crass North American marketing ploy -similar to the fact that you now see "Back to School!" ads on the 20th of July.

I'm the first one to roll my eyes at Christmas music played at the drugstore on November 5th, I mean, after that how can you wonder why everyone has such an indigestion towards the end of the season. But I raise an exception for outdoor lights, snow or no snow. Maybe this only applies to here, but November is usually such a bleak and difficult month, due to a mixture of dropping temperatures, sudden quasi-permanent darkness because of the time change and dreading the extreme weather ahead, that I find these lights welcome, and even hopeful.

The darnest things

Because I do try to show my son I care about what he likes even though cars generally bore me to death (red vintage ones excepted, obviously!) , the other day while the TV was on I asked him with a mock clueless tone: "LP, what's that ad about?" And as I fully expected him to reply: "Des autos!" (Cars!), he actually said: "Chevrolet!"

When I happily announced to him that his grandpa M, my dad, would be staying over with us this weekend (it's my nephew's first birthday), he started to look a little worried. Then, he assuredly said: "But not in my bed! That bed is mine!"

This whole assertiveness is very big, right now. When he wants something, he doesn't ask so much as he declares it. For instance, while negotiating his bedtime, he'll go, with his little index finger pointing: "Encore un épisode de Bob the Builder, ensuite une dernière histoire, puis je vais dans mon lit. Ça marche?" (One more Bob the Builder episode, then one more story, then I'll go in my bed. Is that working for you?) Don't worry, we let him know who's really the boss. But we find it hard not to crack up.

His new affectionate nickname for me (always said while giggling): Ugly face.

Last night while he was running up and down the hallway, he stopped long enough to tell me: "Regarde maman, j'ai des belles espadrilles pour courir!" (Look mommy, I have nice sneakers on to run!) "Mhh, no you don't, you're only wearing socks!" He paused, looked at me with just this slightly irritated air to him, then said, in a tone you would use for someone who's a little slow: "On fait semblant...!" (We're pretending...)

The other day, I took him to a kids' clothing store to buy him a winter hat. We were in a hurry and I wanted it to be really in and out, but he was in a shopping mood. As I went through the racks, he disappeared for a second and came back with a sweater. "This one's really cool, mommy!" (It wasn't.) "Hm, yeah, but it's too big." So he went to put it back and brought another one from the same pile (it was still no). Hat in hand on our way to the cash register, he then made me stop, grabbed another sweater, then held the hanger so it covered his torso and said, dead serious: "Celui-là qu'est-ce que t'en penses?" (What do you think of this one?) Which, after I stopped rolling on the floor laughing, made me realize this is exactly what I do and what I look like when we shop.

Silly humor is just the ticket. On TV, in movies, in his books, he keeps noticing senseless or impossible things, and keeps repeating them to us like jokes that kinda lack a final punch, laughing like a tiny mad man. "Does that make sense, someone eating rocks? Noooo!!!" (Shrek 3). It is possible, a lady sitting on yogurt? Nooo!!!" (Yoplait Source ad). "Does that exist, a banana-shaped car? Of course not!" (Busytown book)...

Meet our new ride!

Did I ever tell you that we love vintage stuff, and have been nurturing the dream of one day owning a nice old project car? (Anyway, now I did.) And after years of dreaming and talking about it, it looks like it has found us. Two weeks ago during our US day trip I asked M to pull over so we could reprogram the GPS and look at the map... And we came face to face with a little springy, fierce, poppy red 1965 Mustang for sale.

We're no experts, but we still have seen enough to know that it was in great shape. The body looked nearly perfect, and the interior had been nicely redone, while preserving all of its original charm. It wasn't expensive, and it had so much personality we were a little stunned (and infatuated). So we first discussed with the owner (who has a motorcycle dealership), and who told us that he had purchased it in June from a federal government auction, as part of a lot along with two motorbikes. Meaning that the car has been seized because the owner was arrested. *Interesting!*

The car has passed a NY state safety inspection a few months ago, and everything that can usually be problematic with vintage Mustangs has been replaced. It doesn't have rust, except for some understandable speckles on the chrome details, such as the bumpers. The engine is still very responsive, even after 119,000 miles: after all, the main reason why there are still so many on the road is that these were everlasting. The breaks, transmission and suspension are decent, although heavy and completely different (harder to drive) than those of a recent car. It's is not a speed bomb: it's the smallest engine, has about 120 horsepower, three (very loose) gears, and does not have such great acceleration, due to its weight. It's not convertible, and doesn't have AC or any extra feature, only an AM radio and a button-push heating system. The gas mileage is obviously a little ridiculous. But, I mean. It's SO cool!

If you're into vintage cars, this one is great because you can get any and every part you need easily, and it's also not difficult to find people who can work on them. There's a whole market for possible upgrades and restorations, as well as plenty of information available to work on it yourself. Some parts, like the tires, battery, oil filter and such, can be replaced with standard current Ford parts. The front trunk is huge, but surprisingly empty and basic, which makes it much easier than a recent car for DIY repairs (both because you have lots of space to work and because there's not much you can scr*w up).

A few other crucial factors also worked in our favor: first, my car lease is up in a few months, and I will have to return it anyway, and second, since M and I now commute together, we're not as dependent on a two-car lifestyle anymore. Funny how things work out: when thinking about it, we realized that this is exactly the right window for us to make such a purchase, because it wouldn't have been quite right just a few months prior or after...

So we decided to give it a go, and make a (lowball) offer, which was accepted. The idea is that I won't buy another car after returning mine, and we'll try to manage with our other main car plus this one. Although the Mustang is definitely in good enough shape to be a daily driver, this still makes more sense in California than here, where winters and salt used to de-ice the roads make it much harsher on vehicles. With this arrangement, only the cold months would be more problematic, because we would try to only use the Mustang sparingly. So it's not a completely rational thing, but hey, you only live once! It's a lot less expensive than a recent second car, and if things don't work out, we can always sell it again, and most likely won't lose any money in the process.

There are just a few issues with importing it into Canada, such as timing and paperwork involved at both borders, as well as one major compliance problem: it doesn't have seat belts, at all! But of course, it has big ashtrays and cup holders which I'm pretty sure weren't for coffee, so these were the times, people, when you could ride in your car unrestrained, with kids squabbling and jumping on each other in the back seat, while smoking and drinking!!! {Irony here}. You can however get safety belt kits online, and the owner graciously offered to have it done by his mechanics before we go back there.

We're probably going to pick it up next Friday!

Home comforts

At this point you may or may not know about my love/hate relationship with house cleaning. Which brings me nothing but guilt and shame, especially since I am a very homey and domestic person, finding joy in little things people view as old-fashioned like sewing my own curtains, canning food, baking, forcing winter bulbs, and such. I should like it or at least be good at it, but I don't and I'm not: when I say love/hate, let's be clear that the love part is only about the great feeling of satisfaction you attain when you're done... At least now, for the past few months, I've taken back the control we never really regained since LP was born and came up with a system that keeps the house tidier and neater, even if my grandmother would probably still feel that it's sub-par (like what do you mean you don't wash your windows, take all the books out of the shelves and wax your wood furniture every week?) But whatever, it works for us.

Just like I do periodically, I am now re-reading this housework manual which I still view as the ultimate reference for today's families. It's called Home Comforts: the Art and Science of Keeping House, and I've had it for years, way before I owned a house, actually. The author, Cheryl Mendelson, is a lawyer and professor who said she long felt she had to hide her love of everything pertaining to the home, because it would puzzle and even "annoy and disgust" some people that she put the extra effort in doing something people don't bother with these days...

The book is huge and exhaustive, and not really meant to read from cover to cover. There are bound to be areas you're already familiar with -for instance, even if my house cleaning skills somewhat left to be desired (we've always had a cleaning lady at home and my mother had been so scarred by her own neat freak mom (sorry grandma) that she didn't feel it was so important to teach us that), I've been in charge of the family's laundry since I was 12, and remain to this day completely fearless in front of the most cryptic label symbols and stringent dry-clean only warnings. Some explanations are very basic: I'm not sure anyone needs a step-by-step guide to sweeping the floor... But overall this book is fantastic (and covers everything from learning about fabrics to planning meals and ensuring that you always have what you need on hand), and there are countless ways in which I've applied it in my home and still do so every day.

My favorite part has to be the first chapter, called My Secret Life, which you can actually read on screen from the link provided above. I guess this is what brought me to like this book so much: it's not only a first-degree manual, but it also brings the wonderful perspective of a woman who has a graduate degree in philosophy. It's part emotional, part cultural, and part historical recollection, it's smart, sensitive and thoughtful, and always inspiring. Every time I need a boost of motivation, it's just the thing, because it reminds me that house cleaning is, after all, not at all about a stupid and vacuous competition to avoid making yourself look bad, but rather just one of many ways in which you can make a house a true home, and make your loved ones feel happy, comfortable and safe.

This entire chapter would deserve to be excerpted and pondered over, but here's just one paragraph:

This sense of being at home is important to everyone's well-being. If you do not get enough of it, your happiness, resilience, energy, humor, and courage will decrease. It is a complex thing, an amalgam. In part, it is a sense of having special rights, dignities, and entitlements -and these are legal realities, not just emotional states. It includes familiarity, warmth, affection, and a conviction of security. Being at home feels safe; you have a sense of relief whenever you come home and close the door behind you, reduced fear of social and emotional dangers as well as physical ones. When you are at home, you can let down your guard and take off your mask. Home is the one place in the world where you are safe from feeling put down or out, unentitled, or unwanted. It's where you belong, or, as the poet said, the place where, when you go there, they have to take you in. Coming home is your major restorative in life.

A looong full circle

1982: year C became my best friend

1987: year we both started listening to, and loving, U2

1992: year we promised each other we would one day see U2 together

1996: year I finally got my hands on 2 tickets to see their Popmart tour that was stopping in town 12 months later

1997, January: month C told me she didn’t want to go after all

1997, September: month I ended up selling my extra ticket to another friend

1997, October: month C told me she would be coming with someone else after all

1997, November: actual show, best of my whole life

1997-2009: years C spent apologizing and feeling awful about that (needlessly)

2009, October: Month U2 announced a Montreal date for their 360˚ tour, involving building (and paying for) a $3 million outdoors stadium for80,000 people

2009, November: month C left me an adorable voicemail message saying that she missed her chance once, but wouldn’t miss it twice, and would I want to go see it with her?

A *very close* second

Over the past few weeks, there’s been an interesting discussion on blogs like A Practical Wedding and Project Subrosa, let’s call it "the Reclaiming Wife debate". It all started when Meg (from APW) pointed out how the term wife was "loaded", and sometimes came with baggage, but she wanted to "positivize" it and reinvent that, wanted to be someone who’s married but still has her own interests outside of her marriage and what society wants her to be. Obviously, I’m all for that!

But the discussion went a bit further in the sense that Meg, and my dear friend Cate (from PS), and other women emphasized the importance of putting your marriage in priority, before your children. Meg actually summed it up beautifully in this comment on Cate’s blog: a friend who has a baby said she was "looking out for number 1". Meg asked: "That’s your son, right?" And the friend said: "No, silly, that’s me! And my husband is number 2, because our son can’t be happy unless we have a good marriage. So he’s number 3!"

I do understand that logic, as I do the fear of some women that once they become mothers nothing else will ever have any importance and they will lose themselves and their connection with their husbands/partners. But I still feel totally funny about a mother who’s saying that. Because I don’t like (respectfully) disagreeing with my friends, because I wasn’t sure how to articulate my thoughts properly, and because I was afraid I would be crucified on these forums where this specific opinion was feeble, I didn’t say anything. But it’s been kind of bugging me ever since.

I couldn’t quite put the finger on why. After all, I think keeping’s one identity and individuality even through motherhood is essential. In this sense, I certainly have all the interests and desires I had before, and I continue catering to my own needs (through this blog, through my early morning workouts, through occasional outings and activities by myself or with friends, and even through work, which for me is at least as much about feeling useful/purposeful in a non-homey setting and about socializing as it is about the income). And of course my husband is extremely important to me, succeeding in this marriage is one of my utmost priorities, and the plan is not to stop being a couple and only become parents, not at all. Having grown up without a positive, loving parental image, I know very well how important it is to have one, how true it is that pretty much everything else depends on that.

However, there’s something in me that says it’s just not quite right (for us, at least) for your kids to be third. It’s just difficult to explain, and especially difficult to convey this to childless people without sounding all annoyingly knowing and condescending…

I’m not making myself last, and I’m not making my marriage last. But for sure I’ll never make LP last, either. We embarked on this journey to become a family together, and acting as a family, seeing ourselves as one, thinking as one, IS a big part of our marriage. I have a hard time dissociating the two completely. Having a child together has made us evolve/change/adjust/reveal different sides of ourselves so much, and I am really thankful for that. I never viewed the fact that we would bring another person in between us (and therefore would have less time to nurture our own relationship) as negative, but rather enriching. Watching my husband play and laugh with my son (like yesterday when he taught him how to make paper planes) is making me much more in love with him than sharing a candlelit dinner could (although of course those are nice, too). Your kids are not strangers, and they’re not competition; they’re an extension of you, of your love. When I look at LP I see M, I see everything: him hugging and comforting me after yet another negative pregnancy test, his face when it finally turned positive, his protectiveness towards my pregnancy, his holding my hand (and mostly reapplying my lip balm) while I was giving birth, and the very first thing he said in our son’s first minute: "He has your (-unsaid, but implied- weird) feet!"

Also, the key word for me ever since M and I got together has been trying to find balance in all the steps we’ve taken as part of this togetherness, from making time to take care of the house to dealing with being a dual-career family… And I’ve learned that achieving balance is probably a life-long quest, one that constantly shifts and needs to be reevaluated. You can’t even always put yourself first, because of specific situations like nursing an infant every two hours round the clock, and also for many other reasons, like for instance when your child or partner is sick or unwell (as LP was for a few weeks earlier this fall). Throughout your marriage, you’ll likely face many unforeseen situations that will mean putting it on the back burner at least temporarily, anything from personal changes and crises to career changes and woes to having a child with special needs to needing to care for an elderly or disabled relative… Sometimes your spouse will require everything from you, and that’s fine. Then your children will, and that’s fine. Then you might feel the need to reclaim some space for yourself alone, and that’s totally fine. I just don’t feel comfortable with vowing to stick to any sort of ranking when it comes to your own family. Systematically putting your marriage before your kids doesn’t seem any more realistic or sensible to me than being all so possessed by motherhood that you completely cease to have a meaningful relationship with your partner…

What I’m trying to say, I guess, is that everything is a priority to me! I tend to agree more with Michelle Obama (pretty much my portrait of an ideal woman), who said that she thought the answer was to "put yourself a very close second". This is what I frequently feel I need to do (not completely, and not always), so that everyone is happy -because in different ways, I vowed to make them both happy, and figuratively, they are both equally sharing the top spot.

I am not saying this in a conservative/scornful way, but even if they don’t have to absorb all of your being and identity, kids do require a lot of your time/energy/affection/thought process to flourish, it just comes with the territory, and it’s a responsibility that should not be taken lightly. Our philosophy is we chose to have this kid, let’s give it our all. It doesn’t seem wrong to us that sometimes, and especially during these first few years, he’ll come before each other: after all we’re adults, inclined to comprehend reason, and understanding that we always will reconnect later… I think the line is fine and the slope slippery, and hate seeing people using the excuse of putting themselves or their marriage first simply to justify uncaring or neglectful behavior (I'm not pointing fingers at anyone, it's just something that does exist and you do see).

I think M and I are both comfortable with calling ourselves a family first: that’s what feels natural to us. I cherish and treasure the time we spend alone, and would love if we could have more (unfortunately it’s not easy when you don’t really have family nearby). But we’re always thrilled to come back to our son as well, and don’t feel like we are missing out when we bring him on a trip or something alike, rather instinctively considering that our little unit is complete. But you know, to each its own, and this doesn’t have to work for anyone but us.

For sure I’m not taking anything for granted, and believe that you need special occasions and grand gestures and breaks in the routine once in a while! But I also think we simply must extract our connection, what keeps us alive as a couple in little moments here and there, spread throughout our everyday life: the slight twinge of happiness when he picks me up at the end of the day, hugs and kisses, glances, inside jokes and innuendos LP doesn’t understand, cuddling in front of the TV watching something that enlightens and awakens us both, deep conversations in the car during our commute… I strongly feel that accepting that instead of fighting it might be the biggest sanity retaining factor there is.

Little charity is growing up!

Long-time readers will know that I am involved with a charity called Cookies for Kids Cancer, which raises money for pediatric cancer research. The organization was funded by our New York friends Larry and Gretchen Witt, whose five year-old is battling neuroblastoma. I first read about them in Parents magazine two years ago, and was so moved by their story I spontaneously reached out. What followed is something I really didn't expect and still makes me teary: we became real-life friends and have been ever since.

The principle behind Cookies is simple: by mobilizing and organizing bake sales locally, people can make a real difference globally! When you are so dedicated, so relentless, so good-natured and so whole-hearted, it only figures that you will have an effect on other people. And in the last several months, the organization has started receiving support from big names, like cosmetics company Philosophy, and household products Glad, which launched a big initiative called Glad to give.

This last bit will melt the heart of anyone who's ever been cynical towards corporate America. Gretchen and Larry told us that they received the call from Glad after an executive, recently back from mat leave, saw their story in Cookie magazine while pumping in a conference room! The company was looking for a way to give back to a worthy cause, and this one just touched her mother's heart, just like it did mine.

Glad being such a big name, it gave the charity an ever greater visibility, as well as a celebrity spokesperson in Joan Cusack. Who recently appeared on both The Jimmy Fallon Show and The Today Show, discussing cookies! You can also see her participating to a recent bake sale event in New York here.

$700,000 have been raised in the past two years, all of which goes directly towards better treatments and cures for children with all kinds of cancer. Doesn't this makes you feel a little better about the world?

(Pssst! Can I tell you a secret? I nominated Gretchen to be one of CNN's Heroes.)

I <3 VT

Over the weekend we went for a day trip into the US, like we do maybe 10 times a year. We live about 25 minutes from the border with upstate New York through a direct highway, and Vermont is maybe 10 minutes further east on small roads. We had lunch, stopped at Target, then drove around, taking the ferry over Lake Champlain (a favorite of LP) across states and slowly making our way back home.

We love doing that. It’s impressive how just crossing a border can bring you to a completely different place and pace. The villages are different, the architecture is different, the signs and lettering are different, the cars are different, and yeah, I guess life is pretty different. Even the two states are completely different from one another, and although there are some nice places in northern New York, Vermont is much, much closer to our heart.

Why? It’s difficult to explain. This is pure two-cents observation, and not at all scientific evidence, but I think it has to do with the culture and mentality. The New York side is more rugged, closer to sprawling wooden areas, and people are outdoorsy in a pick-up truck, hunting and fishing way. When driving there, we are often surprised to find whole areas that are a bit of hillbilly towns, something we’re not really used to. I don’t mean that in a derogatory way, there's no disdain or generalization, because I know that these places are very remote, and that in itself can lead to a culture of hoarding and (attempted) self-sufficiency. We simply find it less appealing, I guess.

But even if it’s sharing a latitude, climate, and general rurality, Vermont is like a different planet. Although there are woods there as well, it’s primarily made up of fields and mountains, making it a paradise for agriculture as well as hiking, biking, and being active and close to nature in general. Vermonters are a very peculiar breed that probably resembles ones found in places like Colorado and Washington State. They’re fiercely green, for one thing, into organic farming, hybrid cars, small-scale and sustainable endeavors, and a healthy lifestyle. They’re proud of their heritage and as typical New Englanders, seem to go out of their way to preserve their beautiful houses, small town shops, and easygoing slower-paced rhythm. They’re REALLY nice, relaxed, and simply seem to have found the secret to a rich quality of life. Burlington may be a small town, but with a big university, beautiful market place, cool cafes, and proximity to the lake, it’s pleasantly vibrant and dynamic, with an emphasis rightly put on family and youth…

Even though we’re primarily urban people, M and I keep falling in love with Vermont villages and amazing old houses for sale there, in many architectural styles we simply can’t find here (our house -and entire neighborhood-, while still a really nice place to live, has basically zero curb appeal). We find ourselves daydreaming, wondering how people live there, what they do to earn their money (since large private sector companies like the ones we work for are nonexistent)…

Check out the November issue of Martha Stewart Living, which has a delightful feature on small cheese artisans from Vermont; you’ll know exactly what I mean. Another must-read is 1954’s Living the Good Life, from Scott and Helen Nearing, who adopted Vermont in the 1930s as the ideal place for their simple and organic lifestyle, and later became important figures of the 60s American counterculture.

Much ado about... ( )

For non-believers, M and I have spent a lot of time discussing religion lately. It all started when I found this website, a good resource called Parenting beyond Belief: On Raising Ethical, Caring Kids without Religion. I’ve been interested in the topic for a while, looking for answers on how we should prepare ourselves for when LP starts asking questions. It’s only a matter of time, for even if we live in a largely secular social circle (and society), there are myriads of ways in which religion is still present. In the past few years we have been to church a few times for weddings and christenings, holidays like Christmas and Easter still have underlying religious connotations even if we don’t celebrate them as such in our home, one day we will have to explain the loss of a relative, and there’s even a little girl in his daycare group who’s Muslim and therefore brings a lunch when pork is on the menu... This is very concrete to him, even though at this stage his questions would obviously be very innocent.

I wanted to take the advice of a friend who said: "Know where you’re heading with this, talk about it beforehand, or you’ll end up like us with a 3 year-old who suddenly asks: "What is heaven?" on a Monday morning as you’re rushing to head out the house, and all you can think of is: "Not now!""

So we did, and surprisingly for people who find ourselves "on the same side" we still have quite different views! I usually refer to myself as "agnostic" (the website also uses the term "secular humanist", which I like), if only because I want to convey the view that I’m still respectful of people who do believe (or rather those who do it in a thoughtful way, as opposed to a bigot and close-minded one), even if I don’t myself. I do hold some grudge against my fundamentalist and surreal Catholic upbringing (not at home, but rather at school), and it does plays a role, but I still feel that religion is a world with a million nuances, which serves many different purposes (including forming identity as well as catering to a sense of community and belonging), and is ultimately a question of choice (and need) to believe. Additionally, I think it’s largely a cultural thing: people here are overwhelmingly non-religious, as it is the case in countries like Sweden, Japan and Russia, while only about 10% of Americans, and even fewer people from Latin countries, call themselves non-believers.

My husband, on the other hand, calls himself an "explicit atheist" and feels much more strongly about blocking any religious references around us. I never really wanted to "leave the door open" for LP and teach him about religion, in the sense that I don’t think we should be apologetic for our views, and it seems highly doubtful to me that religious parents would do the same, i.e. tell their kids this is what we believe, but you also have an option not to… But I still wanted to emphasize knowledge, understanding and respect above all… Whereas M feels this is already too much of a bias towards religion and fears that this could thwart our raising him as a true free thinker. All in all, his point of view is more militant and critical, much closer to the one of British philosopher Richard Dawkins, who, among other things, wrote The God Delusion.

How are we actually going to reconcile this remains to be seen…I mean if two atheists find it hard to compromise, I really feel for parents in an interfaith relationship!!!

He dances, too

I don't even know what to say... Except that he somehow reminds me of a lot of teen-aged, Doc Martens wearing, slightly tipsy, very white (as in, awkward dancers) boys I used to hang out with in punk-rock shows from the early 90s...

(Yes, that's my 37 year-old husband playing on child-size drums...)

Hi, I'm officially a fashion victim

{Follow-up on Friday's post}

On Saturday I got up at 5 (which I do most weekdays but NOT on the weekend), and headed out the door at 5:30, surprised to see how many people were on the road at that early hour already. I left the car at M's work parking spot, and walked to the nearby H&M. It was pitch black, deserted, and peculiarly beautiful: since I stopped working there two years ago I haven't been downtown that often, and it seemed all the Christmas decorations and glammed up shop windows were all just for me. I had brought my camera because I wanted to post a few pictures, but of course the batteries died on me right then.

I was meeting up with E, a loyal reader and acquaintance from my hometown. We met when we were 12 at English summer day camp and even then she was into fashion already, getting me into brands like Benetton, Lacoste and Vuarnet (much to my mom's dismay)! She had just gotten back from New Zealand but really didn't want to miss out on the opportunity... Arrived at 6, we were about the 65th in line, which automatically meant we were assured to get bracelets (yay!) The first guy at the front (yes, a guy), had arrived at around midnight, which was total overkill.

We received our bracelets at around 8. We were in the "gray" group, the fourth group of 20 people that would be allowed into the confined space where the shoes, handbags and accessories were. By then, we had befriended several people around us: an absurdly cute, very young apprentice sushi chef with a large blue sequined flower pin in her hair, two girls who had come straight after working the night shift at the casino, and a 6 foot 2 transvestite wearing shimmering nail polish and a glittery miniskirt. The fauna was definitely interesting: oh-so-fashionable gay guys, overexcited fashionistas, and a surprising number of Asian grannies... The atmosphere was really fun: the H&M staff was super nice and supportive, there were photojournalists taking pictures, as well as countless passer-bys all sporting the same (amusing) puzzled look on their faces... I'm not sure how many people showed up, but I would easily estimate 300-400, since the line extended a few blocks.

{Sorry about cellphone quality pictures...}

In terms of clothing, you would think that after living in such a climate for most of my life I would know how to dress when standing outside for 4 hours in November. But apparently, I am missing that gene. I at least thought about wearing flats and jeans, but it was still grossly inadequate. At 7 we were all starting to freeze to death, not feeling our toes anymore, and I was dearly missing my shearling boots, woolen tights, rabbit-trimmed hooded sweater, and ear muffs.

There was definitely an aspect of camaraderie in the crowd, like finding people you could endlessly talk clothes and fashion drop names with, who "understood," after we had all probably heard everyone around us say that going there was utterly crazy! (And I know it was, I'm not in denial about that at all. I just decided that for that one time, I wanted to embrace the craziness, live the experience, and, if possible, get the damn hot shoes.) Fashion is obviously far from the only thing on my mind, but it's still often a side of myself I'm trying to hide or downplay, for fear of appearing both superficial and high-maintenance. But for that one morning, there was no point in pretending, we were all there freezing our as**s off for the same reason, drawn by the blinding buzz like helpless butterflies.

At 10, they finally let us into the store, and at first I was simply relieved to move into a heated place again. But after a few seconds, I came out of my stupor and realized that people were going mad, grabbing clothes on the racks without even looking at them much. E first located the leather jackets, which I had been eyeing on the website and which M thought were smoking. I've been on the market for one for a while, among other things because I need one for riding on the motorcycle. At $249, it was hardly cheap, but it's pretty much the standard price for any stylish leather jacket, designer piece or not. As soon as I was able to get my hands on one, I knew I was sold. The material is gorgeous, buttery soft, and the jacket is impeccably designed and constructed (nothing like what they usually sell at H&M), perfectly chic and simple, with subtle but recognizable signs of true quality. It looks like a million bucks (and that smell, hmm, heavenly)! It's a wardrobe classic, which I will wear for years and years.


After five minutes, nearly all the clothes were gone, and the super efficient staff had moved away all the racks. No one had been admitted into the confined section yet, and everyone was as hyper as athletes just about to start their race. Then a whistle blew, and it all began. Each group had 10 minutes inside. We spent the next hour looking at people going nuts, several of them exiting with 5 or 6 shoe boxes, four purses, and so on. I was trying to keep my head straight but I can really understand now how it's so easy to get carried away and spend without thinking, how everything is designed so that you do exactly that.

Then, it was our turn. And let me tell you, these 10 minutes, they went by really fast. It was chaotic, but at the same time, well-organized and orchestrated, with helpful, efficient, quick thinking staff that did everything right.

And I got them. The ones that I wanted. I can justify the jacket, but these, I never will be able to. These were an obsession coming from the deep down of my irrational core, where Carrie Bradshaw apparently lives.

The ones that make anyone and everyone feel like an incredibly sexy kitten. Impossibly high, purposely impractical, superbly frivolous, beautifully crafted and ultra exclusive gems. People, I am now the proud owner of Jimmy Choo babies. {Sigh.}




E got a studded bracelet, a handbag with zipper trim and two pairs of shoes (one she'll give as a present). We both agreed that it had been an incredible experience. We parted, I realized that it was 11:30, and quickly exited the store. I was famished and exhausted, still a little shocked from the amount I had just spent. Despite the relative bargain for quality designer goods, it was a great chunk of money indeed, one which immediately calls for a several months-long freeze of my clothing budget (because even though I'm absolutely aware that you can't tell from this post, I'm usually fairly reasonable).

I pretty much slept for the remainder of the day, smiling.

I can't think about serious things all the time

I'm certainly not a fashion victim, but I do like my fashion, especially when a bargain is involved. It’s been impossible not to notice ze major happening of this season: Jimmy Choo launching a special, limited-edition collection for H&M. Every single magazine I’ve read this month is mentioning the buzz, and presenting a wonderful preview of the collection. All of this will be available in select stores tomorrow.

I have not had such a major clotheslust over something for… well, never. Jimmy Choos for $129? My head is spinning. The clothes from the collection are cool, but not very adapted to my lifestyle (I don’t have many occasions where one-shouldered and sequined dresses are suitable, although I wouldn’t hesitate to wear one), and the handbags are a little on the pricey side, even if I know that’s only a fraction of the real thing. So I’m having my mind set on the shoes…Of course they don't look as unique and perfectly crafted as the real ones, duh people, that's why they're more widely available and this affordable!

I don’t really have a plan. As much as I want the goods, I simply won't camp out for shooz in November, I mean come on. The two stores located in my corner of the suburbs will not carry them, only the downtown Montreal flagship store. If it had been a weekday, my husband who works nearby would have been willing to battle the crowds and try to fetch something for me (a few hours after opening, which might have been too late but I still appreciate his offer very much)… He has great taste, I totally trust him.

So although I've never done such a thing in my life, I guess what I’ll do is leave my boys alone for breakfast and get around pretty early to see if it’s possible to buy anything. The first 160 people in line will get a bracelet, and will get to shop firsthand alone in the store. The rest of the people in line will then be allowed in, and the store will be fully open after two hours. Yeah I know this completely cancels my first sentence. I’d just like to invoke the special affordable Jimmy Choo clause and get a hall pass on this one.

I dare calling it

At this point, my confidence and happiness has surpassed my fear of jinxing myself by writing this.

No accidents in over two weeks. No more Pull-Ups during naps. No more Pull-ups during reasonably timed outings, such as running errands. Mostly dry Pull-Ups in the morning...

I believe that what we have here, ladies and gentlemen, is a toilet trained kid.


{Wild cheer}

The requisite H1N1 post

Did you get/are you getting vaccinated?

I know some people are fed up with H1N1 right now, but it’s hard not to talk about it. Since the beginning, I’ve been trying to find a sensible balance between flu hysteria and what a FB friend called the “vaccine Che Gevaras”, people who are on a mission to find yet another conspiracy into this.

Here’s what I’d like to say to both sides:

1- People, calm down. Your kid did not get H1N1 because he’s been coughing slightly and certainly does not need to be taken to the ER, where, arem, people are REALLY sick! Try to put things back in perspective: you’re not that scared of the regular flu (which affects and kills as many people), are you? Stop believing and panicking over everything you hear, it’s not helping (media, I’m pointing the finger at you. It’s one thing to give information and another to propagate fear. You have a big responsibility: please be aware of that and stand up to the challenge). Try not to forget that most people are NOT getting the flu, and that the vast majority of people who do get it will be FINE.

2- All drugs and vaccines have side effects. The pharma industry is there to make money, and there have been really criminal questionable practices in the past. But it’s not the devil either, and it’s not at all in its interest to make you sick or cause you trouble. As long as you’re thoughtful and weigh your options carefully, I have no problem if you choose not to get vaccinated. But actively bashing vaccination and relentlessly coming up with completely loony and far-fetched arguments is really not going to win you credibility points. You know, poor grammar presentations including the sentence: “what *they* don't want you to know about” as well as scary background music are not usually a reliable source of information. Yes, there’s a chance that in 5, 10, or 25 years someone could find out that this vaccine was dangerous. But it’s also the case with many foods, cleaning products, cooking and eating supplies, cosmetics, and other things. I’m not totally pro-modern-medicine-let’s-prescribe-drugs-for-anything, but if there’s one thing it has done right, it’s vaccines. It’s OK to doubt, it’s OK to question, but I think at some point one must have some faith in public health authorities.

LP got his shot last week, and he developed side effects (very sudden high fever, shaking all over, excessive sleepiness, aches… -it stopped just as abruptly after 18 hours) that made me freak out a little and doubt myself, I admit it. It was not cool but now at least I know his system has built up a defense against the virus, and it made me realize how sick he could have been with the real flu and how difficult this could have been for all of us…

Not being on the priority list, M and I need to wait two more weeks in order to get the shot ourselves (the first few weeks were reserved for health workers, children, pregnant women, and people with special, chronic conditions). You can rest assured that we all will, if only because my office has a flu policy where I would need to stay home for 7 to 10 (unpaid) days if I ever get sick or get in close contact with someone who is… Seems a bit harsh, but I don’t mind, I can understand that this is for the greater good and actually like the fact that they are prepared (they also have a disaster plan where they would simply close down the office if a certain threshold of sick employees is met). We have regular updates and briefings, whereas in comparison, M’s office has not even mentioned the pandemic once. In fact, it’s probably the case for most workplaces, and it somehow worries me. No need to be hysterical about it, but I think regarding these things over-preparedness is much, much better than possible chaos entailed by the opposite.

In which I possibly freak you out with my weirdness

[Photo from Chris Searson, taken from the London Telegraph blog]

When I arrived in Montreal at 19, everything about my life changed, the major thing being that I was living on my own in an apartment with a roommate I didn't know that well. Another big thing was that I began taking the metro, which I had practically never done before. While I wouldn't have thought this could have such an effect on me, at that time I began having a recurring dream, sort of a nightmare but not a scary one, more like one where the atmosphere is oppressive and uncomfortable. Each time, I would find myself in the metro and things would not work as planned, like I would not be able to get out at my station, I would find myself lost in stations that didn't exist for real, I couldn't find the right train that would take me to my destination, etc. I had this dream often, every few weeks or so, all through my university years, then when I started to work I never had it again (for over 10 years). I figured my uncertainty over what to do with my life was gone by then, and so was the dream.

I had it again last week. Same old, very vivid, I wasn't sure which train to take, couldn't figure out which line and connection was best, no one could help me, and a girl even pushed me down an escalator and I hurt my mouth. Then, I arrived at an obscure college where I was supposed to interview to be a guest teacher (where does that come from?)

The interviewer was totally snarky and mocking me, other people interviewing were cutting the line, someone even asked me why the hell I was attempting this again after failing twice and how come things were going this bad for me. I had a hard time speaking with my bruised mouth, realized that I was dressed completely wrong, and was generally being the total loser they were painting me as. I woke up after that, sweating, a little shocked that the dream came back again. That was pretty much the worst case scenario EVER. I have a good job, I'm not looking for another one, and even less so interviewing -to be a teacher???

When I looked this up, unsurprisingly, the usual interpretation is fear of losing control, insecurity, losing track of your direction in life, blah-blah-blah...

Ich bin eine Deutscherin

Today marks the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin wall. I was 14 at the time, sort of aware that this was a major event in History, but also selfishly absorbed in many other things, like dealing with my parents’ recent divorce, but also my active social life and first boyfriend, whom believe it or not I had stolen from my best friend (she still is and talks to me. I’m a lucky woman).

Germany has always been special to me, like some kind of a natural kinship I couldn’t really explain. This is where my father’s family originally came from (Trier, which is across the Moselle river from Luxembourg in fact), not France like one could expect. I’ve often been told I look more German than French, although I guess this is debatable. As a child, I remember being especially touched by many stories of the Wars and Holocaust.

In 2000 and 2001, for completely random reasons, I happened to live in Frankfurt for over a year. It remains my only experience of living abroad, and no doubt a very important turning point in my life. From the time I arrived there, I felt much attuned to the specialness of their History, the emotional and peculiar implications that still persisted in everyday lives. Suddenly this was not something that only existed in books, but it became all too real. The reason why Frankfurt has not retained any of its original buildings became clear, for one thing. Autobahn Ausgangen (exits) spelled the name of towns where concentration camps once stood. Friends found Third Reich coins under the flooring while renovating their house. People my age, born there, had never been to Berlin, half of their life because it was way too complicated, and then because they had never gotten around it…At that time, the country had only been reunited for about 12 years, which is only a split-second blip when you think of it. Once at a party I talked to this girl who was born and raised in East Berlin. She was in University that autumn night when the Wall came down, and someone had an illegal transistor in their dorm. This is where they learned. At first they were scared, overwhelmed, unsure whether this was a joke, or worse, a cruel trick played by the Stasi to get them into trouble. But soon the movement was just too big, and she went and she crossed and never looked back. Hearing her talk about it sent major chills down my spine (and still does).

Once I finally visited Berlin I got it, and also realized that before I didn’t really get it at all, neither from reading Christiane F nor seeing Wings of Desire nor anything. Villages in former East Germany were beautiful, picturesque, exquisite even, like fascinating settings for childhood fairy tales, as far as possible from the stark and gray image I had. West Berlin was quite ugly, and in many ways it was its inhabitants that were imprisoned. Central neighborhoods in East Berlin had much more charm, especially places like trendy, crazy, wonderful Prenzlauer Berg, where I went to meet an old acquaintance from my hometown who lived there with his German boyfriend. I can’t even tell you how fantastic it felt to walk these foreign streets, then turn the corner to see him waving a giant Quebec flag on his balcony, shouting my name. Life in Berlin was great to him. He spoke better German than I did, and had become very attached to this culture.

That day, we visited the former no man's land, now filled with cranes and construction sites: Alexanderplatz, Potsdamerplatz, Checkpoint Charlie, the Wall Museum. We took pictures of our feet standing in the middle of a large boulevard, next to a row of inset bricks that still followed where the Wall once stood. We bought a tiny piece of graffiti-ed concrete framed into glass for around $10 (I've since lost all of this). In the Museum, I couldn’t stop crying, about everything I was seeing and reading about: stories of families who had become separated in 1961, but were still meeting each other from their own sides of the Wall in places where the division was the narrowest, lines of Unterbahn that continued to go through some stretches in East Berlin, never stopping anymore, the abandoned stations remaining as if suspended in time with decor and advertising dating from the early sixties. Pictures of incredulous, overjoyed people actually crossing in November 1989, the expressions on their faces absolutely indescribable.

It’s easy to forget now, but I’m pretty sure this will remain one of the most important events of our lifetime, which repercussions I don't think we’re even able to grasp as of yet.

Ich habe ein bisschen von meine Herz in Deutschland lassen. Fur immer.

Jenny and Stanislas' wedding

You might remember that a few weeks ago, my husband and I worked on this Quebec city wedding, me as the florist, and him as the photographer. Now that we have given them their pictures, I can finally give you a sneak peek... Which, I'm afraid, is a little flower-centric...




Their first look...






An example of a centerpiece (they were all different). I'm torn about which picture is better, since I think the candlelight effect is cooler, but you see the flowers better in the natural light...

Next step is to build myself a cool website and launch this sideline for real...!

Seasonal food...

[LP's first football outing. The Alouettes defeated the Winnipeg Blue Bombers' 48-13. Go Als go!]

Apart from trick-or-treating and going to see a Canadian Football League game (the tickets are really hard to come by, and it was part of my birthday present to M), I cooked a lot over the weekend...

1. Tasty and wholesome waffles

We make waffles almost every weekend, and love to try all kinds of recipes... This batter, which is high in protein and super-healthy, would also work for pancakes. I add a few tablespoons of wheat germ (chocked full of good nutrient) and flax seed (packed with beneficial omega-3 fatty acids) to everything I bake for extra nutrition.

1 1/2 cup whole-wheat flour
1/2 cup rolled oats
1/4 cup wheat germ (sold in a jar in the cereal aisle)
1/4 cup ground flax seed (sold in the bulk aisle at my supermarket)
1 cup soy milk or milk
1 cup vanilla yogurt (I usually take whatever flavor I have)
2 eggs, lightly beaten
6 tablespoons vegetable oil (we use canola)
4 tablespoons sugar
1/2 cup chopped nuts, such as pecans (raisins or dried cranberries would be good too)
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda

Just mix everything together!

2. Quince jam

Quince is completely foreign to me... hence very appealing. I had only read about it in French or British recipe books (which use quince paste, etc.), so when I saw fresh ones at the supermarket I couldn't resist getting a few, then didn't know what to do with them. Luckily Marie-Louise, the French wife of a co-worker, told me to peel and grate them, then boil them with sugar and liquid pectin for a delicious jam. In the end, I didn't even use any elbow grease in grating this super-hard fruit, but rather cut it into pieces and dropped it in my food processor, blitzing until it turned into a fragrant chunky puree.

4 pieces of fruit gave me about 2 cups of puree, which I transferred to a pan with 4 cups of sugar. Once everything was melted down, I added two pouches or pectin, then brought to a boil and reduced the heat, letting it cook for about 7 minutes, stirring occasionally. The result was AMAZING. It smells and tastes completely different than any other preserve I had ever made. It's sweet and a little sharp and reminds me of a mix of apples and pears but also at the same time with a completely unique flavor. Yum!

3. Roasted squash soup

Making homemade baby food two years ago made me discover the delicious range of squashes, which I didn't really cook with before. This is my favorite, and the easiest, way to turn them into a soup EVERYONE (and I mean this) will enjoy. Roasting, instead of boiling, brings out the best flavor, I believe.

Cut 2-3 squashes in half, place on a baking sheet and roast at 400 for about an hour. I used a butternut and a pepper squash, but any kind, including small pumpkins, would work. When done, let cool and bit and scoop out the flesh, leaving only the skin.

In a large pan over medium heat, melt a couple tablespoons of butter, then add a chopped onion and let it sweat (it should not brown). Add your squash and stir (it will turn into puree very quickly). Add 4 cups of chicken broth, then bring to a simmer, letting cook for about 10 minutes, while stirring occasionally. Add 2 cups of light cream (or milk), salt and pepper to taste, and about 2 teaspoons of curry powder (or turmeric, or one of each). Smooth out with the inverted blender, blender, or food processor.

4. Bacon mac'n'cheese

Ultimate comfort food and crowd pleaser. We recently bought 1/4 of a natural pork from a small producer, and who knew there was so much bacon in a single animal! We very rarely buy it, so we were a bit puzzled about the quantity. But it's the best bacon I've ever had, not too fat (it's unofficially organic), with a clean, meaty taste, and no artificial preservatives whatsoever.

Cook a package of elbow pasta, drain, and drop directly in a large baking dish. While it's cooking, make a simple bechamel sauce, by melting 1/4 cup butter in a pan over medium heat, then adding 1/4 cup flour, whisking for about a minute. Add 2 cups milk, then continue whisking until it comes to a near boil and thickens. Add salt and pepper, then pour over the pasta and mix.

Cook 6-8 slices of bacon (I find the easiest and cleanest way is to microwave them in between paper towels), then crumble the slices, and add to the dish. Shred about 4 cups cheese (I did it in the food processor, again). It's a great way to use up whatever leftover bits you have, and more or less than that doesn't really matter. In this one I added old cheddar, mozzarella, edam, brick, and parmesan. If it had only been for grown-ups, I would have added just a little bit of Blue cheese as well (LP probably wouldn't have noticed, especially if he didn't see me do it), but it was too much of a gamble with our friends' kids. Add about 2/3 of it to the dish and mix, then layer the rest of the cheese on top. Add some bread crumbs too if you have them. Cook for about 30 minutes at 400.

Hello, I'm a Mac

Goodbye, nine year old (oft upgraded) PC! I was never truly in love with you, but lately it just wasn't working at all anymore. You simply became overwhelmed by all of M's photos and we couldn't handle your slowness and annoying little bugs. I'd like to be polite and say that I was the problem, but I think we both know that it was you all along. I don't hate your kind as a whole... I can understand and appreciate your strengths. But given that we are neither über-geeks nor gamers, and that all we do is browse the Internet/blog, edit and store pictures, listen to music, and do some light graphic design, your presence wasn't justified anymore, and it became clear that someone else was better suited for the job.

Hello, 27-inch new iMac! We are so excited to welcome you to our home. We're already so delighted by all of your titillating features... Yes, a little learning curve is expected, but I'm sure we will soon be rewarded with years and years of computer bliss. And even though I know you're all about inner substance too, I can't help being totally smitten with your outer hotness.

You could always call this post "My Wonder Years"

Pearl Jam's Ten was THE album of 1992, my soundtrack to that year anyway... I know it was released earlier but only really took off then in my memory, a year or so after Nirvana's Nevermind came out and defined something like a completely new sound.

Pearl Jam reminds me of so many (mostly wonderful) memories from CEGEP, a level of education that only exists here, where they carved out a year of high school and a year of university and joined them in this separate two-year program that's supposed to prepare you for college. In retrospect they might actually be the best schooling years, because academically it's not that challenging, it's really high on socializing and parties, and it's right at that age where you've achieved the grown-up status with sort of a freshness/eagerness but at the same time don't usually have much pressure or responsibilities... Granted, I was studying Literature, Art and Languages, so maybe someone preparing for Med School wouldn't have the same input...


Countless parties, making music or watching friends do so, reading, going out to the two or three non-dance-music local dives, playing the Ten CD in my father's car nonstop, working odd jobs like this one as a coat checker in a bar where people didn't tip much, plenty of short-lived stories with fresh-faced boys I may or may not have known since childhood, hanging out to watch movies like Singles (in which Pearl Jam features on the both soundtrack and in cameos), and oh, a little bit of school and school-related projects like ridiculously bad short movies/poems/plays, that pretty much sums up these last years in my hometown. Great era to come of age, anyway.

But I digress, again! The purpose of this post was to tell you that after that, I pretty much lost all interest in Pearl Jam (that was the one parenthesis in my life when I cave in to some kind of scruffiness). But the other day I just heard this powerful, catchy, honest rock-and-roll anthem and thought, hey, that's pretty good, is that the new Kings of Leon? But, no, guess who it was. Good keeping up with the times guys! Eddie Veder's voice is better than ever, with an earnest, longing energy to it... And good to know they're not anti music videos anymore.

Here's for the tune (video is directed by Cameron Crowe, who was also behind Singles btw).

[Written with Y in mind, hugest PJ fan who will always remain the boy I never kissed.]

Call him captain of the pirate ship

After LP threw a tantrum on Friday morning when I wanted to put on his costume for daycare Halloween, things didn't bode well... But I guess I shouldn't have been too worried about the real thing.

We had invited his friend Mederic over for trick or treating (along with his parents and baby sister), since they live in the city where people don't get much into the spirit of Halloween, while people in our neighborhood go crazeeey... The boys had a blast (LP, usually very talkative, was a bit reserved, while Mederic, often quiet, spent the evening singing out loud and engaging conversation with anyone and everyone). It rained non-stop all day with high winds, but the weather miraculously got nicer (and quite warm) right in time for the kids to invade the streets. Once again this year, lots of fun, lots of sparkle in little children's eyes, and way too much candy (yuck, someone make me stop).