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In the fall, I convinced Andrew that we should install a backsplash in our kitchen. Sharon and Craig are always undertaking home improvement projects and they make it look so easy. So after much persuasion/coercion, we made a trip to Star Tile and picked out some tiles for the backsplash.
And then they sat and sat and sat in our closet. I won’t bore you with the details of installation but let’s just say there were lots of choice words, pep talks and frustrated sighs. Did we overcome? Well, the tile is up and we are still planning to get married, and I think that constitutes success in this situation.
Before
After
Up close and personal 
This is a question I ask myself on a daily basis. I lean toward evil when I find myself spending too much time ogling wedding dresses I cannot afford. I lean towards good when tears roll down my face and I shake with laughter as I look at cake wrecks. Back to evil when I realize how much time I have spent looking at cake wrecks.
I find a lot of inspiration for reading, cooking, sewing and design on the Internet. When I came across Tara’s post on a recent One Project a Month, via Michelle, I knew I’d found the perfect antidote for our bare walls. My poor photography skills and decrepit camera don’t do justice to how well this turned out. You are all invited over for coffee and tea to see the results first-hand.
Before
& After
We were feeling mightly lucky this weekend to call the west coast home. While the East was being pummeled by another nasty snowstorm, we were enjoying an outside bhangra festival, tropical brunch at the Reef, and meandering through the stalls at the Winter Farmer’s Market.
Before you get all huffy, we did have snow this weekend. On Sunday we drove up to Mount Seymour for the Take a Hike Foundation‘s snow adventure fundraiser. As I stood in the yurt sipping my hot chocolate it started to snow lightly. It was actually a nice moment even though I realize how obnoxious the previous sentence reads. But one can’t sip hot chocolate in the yurt all day so off we went on a 4K snowshoe. And it was lovely – uphill, but lovely – with bright white snow, green evergreens, and stunning views of the city beneath us. Sadly, I don’t have any photos to share so you’ll have to take my word on it.
On a brighter note, excitement is in the air at the Meddsky’s as we enter tournament season. I’m cheering on Team Saskatchewan at the Brier (special shout out to my high school friend and SK third Jeff Sharp!) and following the Tournament of Books. Andrew is engrossed in his quest to become a kingmaker and is starting to gear up for March Madness. I am also looking forward to defending my title as reigning March Madness Queen of the household. (So long as I don’t actually have to watch any basketball.)
The march to adulthood continues with the purchase of a dining room table. Our set came from Blue Terra Design just up the street from our house. Most of the items in the store are made with reclaimed wood from Bali.
Note: I’ve placed a vase on the table to give it that sense of mature sophistication.
The Harper’s Index in this month’s issue of Harper’s Magazine has some unfortunate statistics for Alyssa:
- Average number of hours of housework that a boyfriend in a cohabitating couple does each week: 10
- Average number a married man does: 9
As we creep further into September I begin to dread the day when the markets are no longer brimming with baskets of lush peaches and bunchs of fresh basil. This year I decided to take matters into my own hands and preserve some of the summer goodness to enjoy during the winter months.
But first, let me tell you a bit about my mom. Peaches, pears, pickles, beets, cherries. You name it, she canned it. I vividly remember helping her can peaches and pears in the summer. I was in charge of scalding the fruit in boiling water, immersing them in cold water, and peeling the skins while my mother prepared and filled the jars. It was hot, sticky work in a tiny kitchen with no air conditioning. I can’t say I enjoyed it at the time but it couldn’t have been all that bad as I decided that I would try it myself this year.
Since two heads, and two sets of hands, are better than one, I teamed up with Sharon to tackle my first mom-less canning attempt. Last night we canned 11 quarts of tomatoes to add to the seven quarts of peaches I did earlier in the week.
And while my preserves may not be as beautiful as Mary Pratt‘s Jelly Shelf, shown here on a Canada Post stamp, I’m awfully proud of them.
With thoughts of fall come thoughts of harvest. Throughout the spring and summer we frequented our local farmer’s market at Trout Lake. It has been reassuring to watch fruit and vegetables come and go as the seasons progress. We are currently awash in a sea of squash.
This afternoon we feasted at UBC Farm. Feast of the Fields, an annual fundraiser for Farm Folk, City Folk, is a roving picnic of local food and drink from some of the region’s best chefs, farmers, wineries, and breweries.
Everything I tried was delicious; oysters, salmon, tomatoes, duck, blackberries, zuchinni blossoms, and the list could go on and on. My favourites were the grilled polar grove tiger blue cheese and turkish fig walnut pannini from Vista D’Oro Farms and the halibut brandade with lemon chilli crostini from Chambar. Superb.
Our friends Andrew and Brita take a break from the local wines and give Happy Planet juice a thumbs up.
Perfect backdrop for a picnic.
BBQs, mini-breaks, and drinks on patios – it’s hard to keep up with the blog in the summer!
After weeks of unpacking boxes, hanging photos and painting we decided it was time to invite our friends in and officially warm the pad. We chose to celebrate our new home by hosting a Taste for Justice party to raise awareness and funds for Amnesty International.
As usual, I went a little overboard with the food and drink. We had a buffet of beverages (what fun that is to say!) including Pimms and Ginger, Lavender Lemonade, Green Tea Lemonade and Rum and Fruit Punch (shoot, I should have bought some drink umbrellas.) I also put out some of my greatest hits recipes including orange vanilla cupcakes and roasted red pepper dip. All very fun and made even better knowing that at the end I would get to send a cheque to support Amnesty International’s work to promote and protect human rights.
In fact, it was so much fun that I neglected to take any photos of the party in action. Story of my life. But here are some shots of our educational decorations. 
The last of the boxes have been unpacked and the apartment is starting to feel more like a home and less like a storage facility. A few of our friends have stopped by to check out the new digs and we have proudly showed off the cathedral ceilings and views of the city from the deck. However, most people are more interested in our microwave. We have a talking microwave. Actually, it doesn’t talk but we can record messages on it and it will play them back. Our microwave can also keep track of our daily schedules with its handy categories of appointments – haircut, dental, etc… I’m sure it can do many other things too but for now I’m sticking with the ‘quick start’ button.
Loyal readers will have noticed blog posts from this blogger screeching to an abrupt halt a couple of weeks ago. It was a perfect storm of moving, facebook and a three-day conference that kept me from my editorial duties here at wherearethekeys.
What did you miss during my blogging hiatus? My brother Matthew stayed with us for a week on his way back from New Zealand. He came just in time to enjoy the beauties of spring in Vancouver.
Prior to the move I embarked on a mission to sell our unnecessary belongings on craigslist. I ended up giving more away than selling, but I did meet some interesting characters in the process. My favourite was a building manager who signed her emails “Love, Erryn.” I often worry that I will absentmindely sign a work email with this closing and I assumed that she had done the same. However, she proceeded to send four additional messages all signed the same way. Free stuff brings out the love.
We are now in our new pad. It’s a little overwhelming with all the boxes and the atrocious lavender paint in the bedroom but that’s a small price to pay to have our own place in the republic of East Vancouver.
