Posts Tagged: bad-ass
Things have been quiet around here this week and I realized that perhaps I should mention why. Come next week, these kitschy corners will have been over-hauled. As you may know, I do all of my own design work and the mister does all the coding. All I will say is that you you should probably expect the unexpected (eye roll, right?) as it’s all been rather agonizing/exciting.
I however have still found plenty of time to hoard up in the kitchen, drink excellent beer and wine, muddle about with pumpkins and gourds and play with my kiddos. So. At least there’s all of that. Here’s what we’ve been up to lately, photo essay style (which no, does not mean this is a lazy post, collages take time my friends!)
If you’re someone like me, who struggles with felling like that – then you NEED TO HAVE THIS ALBUM. Music is a powerful tool in healing;, in learning, in experiencing joy.
It’s not just about a party. (Which, as many of you know – I have no qualms against. I love me a good party). It’s just that I’ve mainstream media shines this shallow light on music. It lifts up the kind of popular music that may have a good beat (arguably), to get your booties shakin’ (again, have no qualms with this, I love me a good booty shake) to the masses.
Granular and hard to focus. That image portrays, in part, what’s going on around here. It’s times like these that I kiss my iPhone. Because iPhone’s…and their fantabulous appery (yes, it’s a term), reign toddlers in. Times like this, where I am flat out on my back…
Nick Sherman. He’s a fine cross of Ray LaMontagne meets John Mayer, except he’s Anishinaabe – so way better.
Or do I?
I was introduced to him at ANDPVA’s last Red Revue at The Sister in Toronto. It was also on this night that I was introduced to the greatness that is Dr. James Luna. If you don’t know about this award winning, Pooyukitchum (Luiseño) and Mexican-American performance artist and multimedia installation artist – you should.
I was lucky enough to have had the Digging Roots time-warp encapsulate him on his way back home from a big tour, wherein he played all night at our neighbourhood block party. Along with DRoots. (Video after the jump!)
Simple enough, I mean – it is a tiered cake after all. Tiered cakes are to be respected. Straight up. One must be gentle yet stern with them all at the same time. At least that’s why I believe this sexy cake came out so magnificently. So timely. Surely, it also had something to do with setting a vibe of tranquility. (I’ve been known to bust a move all in the name of a homemade birthday cake many a time.) Having all of my ingredients ready. Researching the substitions I would make once I decided on a recipe.
Which all ends in the minor technicality that the hour in which I profess it took me to make this cake? Well that isn’t really true at all.
I love baking and cooking. I don’t count the research and experiment time. What I can tell you is that this is the perfect cake for the summer season – or any occasion really. I made it for a dear sweet, charming young man in my life, for his 17th birthday. I now plan on making it for my dear, sweet, baby girl for her birthday in one short month. Her 1st! Onwards with this cake business.
Let go of your fear, revel in the fact that your search for the perfect cake is over and you can just get to the business of creating this masterpiece. I don’t have a fancy cake cutting wire (although that would be splendid), or probably half of the tools one could use to make this even more simple and uber profesh looking. The making part is what I’m referring to. Which is fine, because I don’t profess to be a food blog. Just a momma who believes in the inherent, magical virtues of a homemade birthday cake. Bar none.
This recipe is for all the moms who believe in that magic and appreciate the community on the internets that allows us to do so more often. Recipes, tips, inspiration, stories, support. It’s why I’m here. You are here for all that and some cake, too, right?
I’m all about merging the age gap between my 11 month old and 2 1/12 year old. When it comes to activities that is. There are enough times that each of them have their own personal play, or activities just for them, specific to their stage in development and skill. That stuff is important. Fo the most part though, we try to blend. Things aren’t always harmonious, as those of you with toddlers and babies know.
Although I am sure the same could be said for most siblings, regardless of their age. However, the baby toddler times are succinct to that of pretty much constant surveillance. Until the object launching, pushing and other forms of bodily contact become less so. Those wily little bohemians!
The summer is such a carefree, luxurious time with little ones wherein you can get messy, creative and a tad bit wild. I mean, a water table in the house? Not so much. I’ve rounded up my favourite fun and inexpensive outdoor activities to engage your littles with, during the sweetness of summertime, what are yours?
A day of dread is now a day of celebration.
This, an open letter, for all that is wonderful in my small life and so very different from that of parts of my childhood. I used to think that patient, gentle, happy, good fathers were a rarity. Ones that are ever present, right down to dirty diaper changing and late night rocking? Unheard of.
Perhaps that’s the way it is in some other peoples worlds. More-so the dirty, sleepless duties parts.
Not mine. I’m a lucky gal all over the place.
It would seem that no matter how much I used to think I didn’t deserve much more in relationships than what I had been witness to during my childhood; weird, challenging and awesome love? It found me. I didn’t go on ardent search for it – but surely, I did a lot of work within myself before it happened. And I’m still not there. The work is constant, the road is weathered and blossoming and I find myself rolling off into ditch somewhere at times, but still.
When it all comes right down to it – within this great unknown, my own imagination could not have dreamt up a better father for my children. Or partner. For all of our struggles, there is a connection, an acceptance and a passion (however dormant it may lie at times in the wake of newborn after newborn); that makes us solid. Even when we quiver.
It is said that the baby and toddler years are incredibly hard on a relationship. Sure.
They are also part of the glue that keeps us all together. Not all of it – because that would be sad really. No one should ever work to be and stay in a relationship for the sole, ‘sake of the kids’. But the honey of a toddler’s mind and a baby’s adoration is a predominant part of our little hive, my friends. The rest is up to us, to ensure that our sacred commitment; of grandeur and love, never fizzles out. And if it does? To know there will always be embers glowing, just waiting for me/us to get a little dirty at striking them back up again.
Okay, so enough with the metaphors. What I really want to share on the internets, with Father’s Day coming up and all – is a pictorial list of 31 things I love about him, as a father.
Because it’s that time of year. Fresh off the cookie, chocolate, decadent, savory / sweet train. Aka: the holidays. As you may know, I am a firm subscriber to the mantra of moderation. Which means that when it’s the holidays? One indulges in (not vacuums up – but it happens), the treats. The fat-laden savoury goodness that is the celebratory, feast and entertainment cuisine of the season. G’won, go for it. I did. That and fatty mc-fatterson Bailey’s too.
I’ve noticed quite a few, “Top Posts of 2011″ and the like from writers in the blogging community.
I however have decided to choose from the much smaller collection from whence this blog began.
Why? Because I started out as an irregular, complete novice. Who still does not post everyday. However, come this year a whole lot of things are changing. The face of this site for one. Come February it’s going to be shiny and new, a hub for all that I do. More on that later.
This collection here? Is for me to share with those whom want to get to know me better, or those whom I really, really, like and want them to know me better. The awesome part about that is that it’s often a combo of the two.
It’s also a source of inspiration, for me – to come back to and meander over how I’ve evolved as a writer, found my voice and developed my mad blogging skillz. Because. Like I said. I plan on doing much more of this. In many ways. As an advocate, as a story-teller, as an ambassador and paid writer. But most importantly, for me and other women like me out there. Because the writing stuff? It heals. It empowers. It unites.
So. This curated list will be the first step into my second coming. A more frequent, constantly learning, embracing the everyday that is me. As a writer. Gone the name acronyms will be, it’s about to get straight-up – the edgy that is me, REAL in here.
Without further ado…to serve as reminder to me. Kicks in the pants to me and FYI’s for you. So pull up a chair. Pour yourself a glass of vino. (I’m publishing this in the eveing people, as I pour myself a glass). Dig in.
Because babies are wriggly. And it’s dang cold outside. If you live in a cold climate like me. Even if not, those babies are famous for wanting to be all cozy and wrapped up. So demanding, I know!
So. There are woombies and sleep-sacks galore out there that you can parouse over on the internets. Most of them also cost about the price of a small goat. The organic ones? 2 goats. That’s crazy talk. If you’ve babies and a wallet to tend to, I’ve got your back. Avails in 0-18 months, you can custom order organic or vintage fabrics – or a combo of both.
Whatever floats your boat. Lined with high pile, warm and soft organic sherpa, fleece or flannel. (Flannel is a great light-weight choice, for those who don’t live in a cold climate, but still want to provide something cozy for their baby that they can’t kick off at night.) Check ’em out…