Mr. Owl

Snowy owl. Burrowing owl. Great horned owl. Barn owl. Screech owl. 

"Mr. Owl, how many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll pop?" Who remembers this commercial during Saturday morning cartoons? A couple months ago I quoted it to D and he had no recollection of it. He said that it must have only been on the American channels when we were growing up. Regardless, I had a fond memory of it and started to wonder how our society pegged the owl as wise.

A quick google search revealed that historically, the owl is either revered or feared. Owls in Lore and Culture is a good read. Focusing on the positives, the owl has been linked to the Greek goddess Athene, known for her wisdom. The owl's nocturnal nature is associated with the vigilance of a studious scholar. The Sioux First Nations admired the snowy owl, which represented bravery. 

Yesterday I finished Hibou's quilt. The Hooty Hoot Returns fabric is from Riley Blake Designs. The orange "jacks" fabric makes me smile. When I found it at the only quilting store in Montreal, Effiloche, I knew immediately that it would tie the whole quilt together. When I finished the back of the quilt, I realized that it reminded me of the sky and the earth. I hope that Hibou enjoys being out in nature as much as we do.

I am looking forward to meeting our petit hibou. Will Hibou be known for vigilance, bravery, and wisdom? Only time will tell.

Hibou quilt 2013

Mon préféré

There are a few quilted items that I have created over the past several years that I could not bear to give away because I  loved the pattern, the colour, or the finished product so much. This is one of them.

When a friend would have a baby, I would often pull out this receiving blanket and debate whether or not to give it away. Over the past several years, thinking that we would not have a child ourselves, I thought that it would eventually go to one of my nephew's or niece's's first born. That is a bit weird to think about...

Anyway, the blanket will now be hibou's. We may not have a baby room set up or all the essentials put in place yet, but I can swaddle hibou in my favorite blanket.

Unbroken

The book Unbroken is being released as a movie Christmas day. I felt that this post was worth re-posting  since it profoundly moved my spirit. Once again, I highly recommend reading this book. The story of Zamperini reflects the hope that we seek at Christmas time.

During the last several months I have read several WW2 stories about survival, resistance, and perseverance. The first book that hooked me was Frozen in Time by Mitchell Zuckoff followed by Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy by Eric Metaxas, and then Lost in Shangri-La, also written by Mitchell Zuckoff.

None has affected me so profoundly as the book that I just finished reading. Now, I am not one to write book reviews, this really won't be a review per se, but Unbroken: A World War II story about Survival, Resilience, and Redemption by Laura Hillenbrand moved me. It was inspirational, gripping, tragic, heartbreaking, and sobering.

As I read the life story of Louie Zamperini my heart ached for him and his family. At one point in the book, I paused and stated to Daryl that I could not understand why this book was titled Unbroken. As I read on, I was moved to tears.

After being stranded aboard a lifeboat in the Pacific Ocean for 47 days, Zamperini became a prisoner of war in Japan. He suffered under the cruel hand of men during a dark time in our history. As he lay in a prison cell, separated from his friend and comrade, he realized that his will to live was lost because he was being stripped of his dignity.

"The guards sought to deprive them [Zamperini & Phillips] of something that had sustained them as all else had been lost: dignity. This self respect and sense of self-worth, the innermost armament of the soul, lies at the heart of humanness; to be deprived of it is to be dehumanized, to be cleaved from and cast below mankind...without dignity identity is erased. In its absence, men are defined not by themselves, but by their captors and the circumstances in which they are forced to live...Dignity is as essential to human life as water, food, and oxygen. The stubborn retention of it, even in the face of extreme physical hardship, can hold a man's soul in his body long past the point at which the body should have surrendered it."

 Laura Hillenbrand-Unbroken

As I read this passage, I thought of Canada's long history of abuses towards the First Nations people. What is my call to action? How do I respond to the Idle No More movement and the Truth and Reconciliation Commission? I have much to think about.

There is more that I can write about. How do we as a nation support our military coming home from war? How do we love our enemies as Christ instructs us to? How do we come to terms with God in the midst of suffering and abuse? How does faith transform a person so completely? As I let these questions roll through my thoughts, I encourage you to read this book.

Unbroken is a testament of the human spirit's ability to endure much and furthermore, forgive much.

Reflections

I am soaking in the last few weeks of life in Montreal. The stunning fall colours of red, yellow, and orange are quilting their way across Mont Royal. With each passing day, there are more leaves on the ground reminding me that a new season is about to begin. The tree in front of our condo is nearly bare.

There is something quite satisfying about closing up shop and moving on. Although there is some sadness and mourning that must go on, I feel a sense of accomplishment and completion as well. Yesterday for example, I was making some cream cheese icing and I had exactly the right amount of icing sugar to make it. I rinsed the bag and tossed it in the recycle bin with such delight. Another thing that I do not need to concern myself with when I pack up the last of my bags.

This past week we also cashed in a gift of a scooter rental. If being on a scooter doesn't make you smile, there is need for re-evaluation in life. It was an ideal fall day, where the sun was shining and warm with only a slight breeze. We drove along the Lachine canal and stopped at a park for a lovely walk. On our return journey we followed the boulevard along the St. Lawrence River and stopped at the Lachine rapids. It is a wonder that the voyageurs and ships even attempted to navigate these waters. Necessity and the spirit of adventure spurred them on.

This coming week I am taking a one day pastry course to learn how to make eclairs from renowned French pastry chef Christian Faure. How much more French does it get?

Not quite sure what else the next few weeks will bring, we intend to continue to enjoy the moments that we have here. Although I am feeling very inadequate for this next adventure that I am about to embark on, I am hoping that the experiences and lessons I have learned during my time in Montreal will carry through.

Lady of leisure

My fight is over.

As my hand has been healing over the summer months, I have enjoyed the freedoms of exploring a new land and learning a new language. I have read numerous books and have wandered through many parks soaking up the lazy days of summer. My forced vacation and recovery time took a sour turn August 14 when I informed my employer that I was pregnant. They told me that I was no longer able to work. I felt as if my world was turning upside down. In many ways, my identity is inextricably linked to my vocation. Who am I if I am not allowed to work in the job that I love? What am I supposed to do with my time now? Deep inside me, I do not like being told what I can and cannot do. When one's freedom to choose is taken away, it is debilitating. When you speak up and state your case and realize that nobody is listening, you feel like you are being suffocated.

One month after my letter campaign along with what I thought was compelling research literature supporting my right to work, I have been stymied. OH&S has stated that the risk of infectious diseases, exposure to X-rays and anesthetic gases, the long hours, and risk of violence at work is too great for me and the unborn baby. They have washed their hands of my situation. Collecting workers comp for a "disability"such as pregnancy does not sit right with me, especially since I have been informed by one of the top OH&S personnel here that Quebec is the only province in Canada and in fact the only place in the world that has regulations regarding pregnant women working. Sometimes I wonder if I am living in the '50's.

This experience has given me a glimpse of what it must be like for educated immigrants coming to Canada. They have the skills and abilities to work, they are healthy, and more importantly they have the willingness to work hard and make a new life for themselves. I realize that law and regulations have their place. We no longer employ children in coal mines and women have been recognized as capable contributors to the work force. Employers are mandated to maintain safe working environments for their employees. The Saskatchewan government has a new ad campaign coming out concerning "Work Safe" which Daryl has been working on. The images are shocking, but make a point. However, I have had difficulty swallowing the "dangerous work environment" line given to me when there is a whole body of evidence that speaks otherwise to that argument.

What can I say, the French-Canadians value their children through providing $7/day daycare and extended leave for maternity. Vivre le Quebec.

What else is there to say? Sometimes we need to fight against the injustices of this world. Sometimes we need to submit in our fights, especially if they are slowly eating away at the fiber of our being.

Time to start my life as a lady of leisure (at least for the next 6 to 12 weeks).

Hibou

Life is held in a delicate balance. As we anticipate the birth of our babe I need to pause and mourn the passing of my Grandma on Sept. 10, 2013. 

She truly was a lovely and glamorous lady. With a quick wit and a sharp mind, she was always ready to play a game of Scrabble or UpWords. The "little Irish guy" (Daryl) was always up for the challenge.

As a child, I loved watching her put her "face" on. She would put her stand-up oval mirror on the table and start with her eyes, pencil in her eyebrows, and always finish with her lips. After she was moved into the nursing home, Daryl and I went out to visit her. Along with picking up practical items like a walker and a dresser, I bought her a tube of lipstick. When I gave it to her, she immediately put it on. A lady feels naked without her lips on. We have had many good laughs over the years. The twinkle in her eye will be missed.

Our little hibou will be fortunate to have fun loving and active grandparents.

I found this cute fabric in Niagara on the Lake a couple of weeks ago. I couldn't resist because of the owl print. FYI hibou is French for owl. Haven't decided what to do with it yet, but a snugly quilt will be the end result.

Great expectations

Last night I woke myself up (and Daryl) laughing hysterically. I had a hard time calming myself down. Every time I thought about the dream I started laughing again. Of course Daryl inquires as to what the dream was about and as I consider telling him, I realize that it probably wasn't that funny. Here is what I told him.

The scene: a large gymnasium with one of the walls so tall that it appeared to be a cliff face. People were gathered in a circle challenging each other to wrestling matches. Very seriously someone asks, "Who is next?" A tall sinewy young man steps forward and announces that he wants to challenge his brother. We all cheer, but are bewildered when he walks out of the circle towards the gymnasium door. He opens the door and a short East Indian man follows him in carrying a guitar case. People start mumbling that there will be no real challenge. The brothers look menacingly at each other and both pull out their bass guitars. They both start tuning their basses and are playing with aggression.

They are ready to start the challenge. The short brother starts playing and quickly the other brother joins in, however the music that they are playing is docile and boppy sounding.

I look to the person I was standing beside in the dream and we both smile at each other in confusion and then start to chuckle silently.  I lean over to her and say, "That is not what I was expecting."

At this point the laugh that you try to control when you are in church started and then progressed into all out hysterics.

...and scene.

Strange how the brain and dreams work. I got thinking about it this morning how life can be like this. We move to Montreal,  I get pregnant,  I slice my hand at work and have surgery, and then I am told this week that because I am pregnant that I am no longer able to work in my current position. What is happening?! Some life experiences and situations can be bewildering, not what we expect, but I need to  learn not to get so uptight about life and find humor in the seemingly ridiculous hard things that life throws at me.

Is laughter the best medicine?

Prairie roads

Sign along Hwy 132 to Gaspe

What does a prairie girl know about driving along the coast? While recently planning a weekend trip to the Gaspe Peninsula, QC, I looked at the distance to get there, just over 1000 kms. If you are used to driving 100 kms in 1 hour, don't give the prairie girl the map. When a Quebec tourism website suggests 5-7 days for the road trip, don't think, "I have driven to Vancouver from Saskatoon and back in a weekend, no problem."

I have heard my sister in laws parents say that the journey begins when you lock the door to your house. Mind you, they have taken a half day of travelling to get to Eastend from Frontier, which is about 50 kms away. Anyway, I have been trying to embrace this philosophy since I heard that. I grew up in a family where you got in the car and drove, which is great for covering a vast amount of kilometers and growing up in Frontier, to get anywhere, you had to drive and drive and drive to get anywhere.

Here I am, planning a 2200 km trip straddling these two philosophies of a road trip, the one compelling me to drive and the other one drawing me in to stop at another lighthouse.

Prairie driving and coastal driving are very different. When driving through a Saskatchewan town, you need to slow down to 50 km/h for approximately 2 blocks. On the coast of Gaspe Peninsula each town stretches for 5 km because everybody wants a view and there is a town every 5 kms which means lots of hours in the car and not many kilometers covered. In between slowing down for towns, you are slowing down for sharp curves ahead and steep hills. I was shocked to see signs indicating 11%, 13%, and 17% grades on the upcoming hills. These grades might be seen somewhere in B.C., but not in Saskatchewan.

We started off the trip with a 680 km day. Thinking that we had lots of time, we made frequent stops for coffee, croissants, sight seeing and bathroom breaks. We decided to stop for supper in St Anne des Monts after being on the road for 9 hrs, approximately 200 kms from our destination. After supper, Daryl thinks it would be wise to phone the hostel and let them know we will be getting in late. We were told that the doors of the hostel are locked at 10 pm. Panic is starting to set in. Will we be able to get there on time? In SK, no problem, here...We tried to enjoy the seaside drive to our destination, but the tension in the car was palpable. What was our plan B? Daryl and I slept in the car the night before, but 4 people sleeping in the car was not too desirable. I did not have one sip of water the last leg of the trip for fear that we would have to stop for me to go pee, which might mean us missing our check in time. As we drove it was hard not to stare at the clock and the speedometer. Even if Daryl wanted to speed, he couldn't because of the winding highway, the numerous towns, and the 11% grades. FYI a Prius is great in the city, but gutless going up hills. We drove along mostly in silence. A quip would be made every now and again about the ridiculously long towns that slowed us down to 50 km/h. Once we reached our turn off we were moderately confident that we would make the deadline, which we did with 4 minutes to spare.

We thought we were giving ourselves plenty of time for the return trip. Up at 6 am and in the car by 7 am. The car needed to be returned by 1130 pm. Once again, we thought 16.5 hrs would be ample time to drive 1100 kms. We did enjoy a few excursions and rest stops, but the majority of the time was spent in the car...driving. As we drove past the red sand beaches, the quaint towns, and lighthouses, I would exclaim, "Beautiful, wish you were here."

Despite the outrageous number of kilometers that we covered in such a short amount of time, we enjoyed the adventure of discovering a beautiful part of Canada. I guess you could say that we left wanting more.

Beaver tails and beaver blades

beaver blades...bad

Beaver tails...good

Once again, I have had an unexpected change in health status. At work 2 weeks ago while I was changing a scalpel blade, I cut 2 fingers on my left hand. Almost immediately I felt a numb sensation in one of my fingers...not good. I had surgery June 26 to fix a tendon and a nerve that were 70% severed. First a cast, then a splint, both of which have limited what I can do. Unfortunately for Daryl, the burden of housework, dishes, & cooking have fallen on him. However if you know me, I have a fairly stubborn streak, so I have attempted to do all these tasks with limited success.

For some reason, my cast hand has drawn comparison in Daryl's mind to the comic book character, Hellboy. Is there a subtle message here for me? And yes, we watched both movies to cheer me up.

Off on workers comp for July. How am I filling my days? Studying French, finger exercises 3 times a day, exploring the city, and taking it easy.

Sans regret

Sometimes life throws you a curve ball. An unexpected event that will have a huge impact on daily living. I have recently been presented with a challenge that is causing me a certain amount of anxiety, bewilderment, confusion, and denial. In my mind, one of my favorite quotes from Arrested Development keeps rolling around, "I have made a huge mistake!" How am I going to deal with this? I am in the process of coming to terms with this recent change in our life.

No regrets. What does it mean to live a life with no regrets? Does it mean that we should never question the things that we say and do? Or rather, do we accept the choices we have made and take responsibility for them regardless of the outcome? I not sure, but this scripture came to mind as I was thinking about it. It is from Ephesians,

“I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to one hope when you were called."
I think living a life with no regrets involves us caring for and loving each other, first in our homes, then in our communities, and throughout the world.

 Daryl has written a song “Sans Regret" in response to our unexpected change in life. Have a listen and let me know your thoughts.

Trigonometry

Do remember taking Alg. & Trig. in high school? Do you remember thinking how will this be remotely applicable to my life? Do you know how measure the height of a tall building if you know the distance and angle at which your are looking? SOH, CAH, TOA. Who remembers these acronyms?

I actually did enjoy these subjects in school. I may not have the most logical mind, but they somehow made sense to me. I designed this quilt with the help of sine, cosine, and tangent. I dusted off my high school calculator and plugged in the numbers and angles to figure out how big I needed to cut my triangle inserts. Now, I am certain that there is probably a more efficient quilting way to figure it out, but I enjoy the challenge of  designing and creating without a pre-packaged pattern.

Singing in the rain

Establishing shot:
The sky is overcast and grey in Montreal. There have been some scattered showers, but not enough to dampen our spirits. My parents are here for a visit. We are wandering  through Vieux Port seeing the sights and soaking in the beauty and history of the area.

Currently the rain has stopped, but the air is thick with humidity.

Scene:
After some time, we decide to find a cafe and sip our drinks out on the terrace. We notice that the clouds are getting darker.

Meanwhile, Daryl is leaving his conference and decides to buy me a lemon tart for my birthday. In true Montreal fashion, he straps the cake into the front basket of the Bixi and rides to meet up with us.

Dad sees a flash of lightning, then we hear a loud clap of thunder, and suddenly a deluge of rain floods the area. We grabbed our drinks and bags and dashed for cover in the cafe, wet, but not drenched.

Daryl does not have the luxury to get out of the rain so quickly. He gets off the Bixi and ducks for cover in a stairwell. He waits out the deluge until it turns to a soft steady rain and continues on his ride towards us. By the time Daryl gets to the cafe, he is sopping wet. There is not a dry spot on him. He plunks a petite soaked cardboard box with a black ribbon on the table, unsure of the condition of the pastry. We are all laughing. I open the box to find a lemon tart with meringue, however the meringue has not weathered the storm well. The rain has disintegrated it.

Despite the rain, the tart tasted delicious. The rain eventually stopped and Daryl dried out in the sun. A memorable birthday indeed.

Egg in a hole

Did you ever have an egg in a hole for breakfast when you were young? My dad used to make them and I remember being delighted and fascinated by the process by which they were made. The best part though was the hole of bread that we got to sprinkle with cinnamon and sugar.

In a way, this quilt reminds me of an egg in a hole. The design of the quilt was actually inspired by a picture of a room I saw recently. The room was painted grey with 3 pictures framed in white hung on the wall. That was it. It was quite striking. I decided that I would try and create a similar look. I am pleased with how it turned out.

This may be my last complete project in Montreal. My machine is not top notch and I do not have my free motion quilting foot with me. I want to sew up the rest of the fabric that I have here, but I think that is as far as I will get. Besides, the weather is getting nicer and I always seem to slow down production in the summer. There is too much to enjoy outside.

Cabane a sucre

Last weekend we went out to St-Eustache, QC with friends to a Cabane a Sucre. Before going, I pictured us driving into the hills and through a forest of maple trees arriving at a little cabin in the woods. Unfortunately, this was not the scene that we drove up to. Despite being slightly disappointed, I was excited to experience a true Quebecois tradition. To my surprise there were maple trees on the property and we saw how they are tapped today with a network of tubes connecting the trees to a reservoir down hill. 

The menu: part one of the meal included pea soup, cabbage salad, bread, and cretons (some sort of pate).

The main course included an omelette, ham, sausage, potatoes, brown beans, and oreilles de crisse (fried pork rinds). This is all smothered in maple syrup. Dessert was a choice of pancakes with ice cream, pudding chomeur (like bread pudding), tarte au sucre (maple sugar pie), or eggs cooked in maple syrup. The last choice defines you as a true Quebecer. I had one nibble. It was ok, but more than one bite might have been upsetting to my stomach. I had the tarte au sucre with ice cream and it was delicious. To round off the whole experience, we ate maple taffy cooled on snow. Sweet, but satisfying!

Overall, I enjoyed the experience, all the same I am not sure that it is a tradition that I would embrace. C'est la vie. We'll see how I feel about it this time next year.

Printemps

La grande magasin Printemps Paris

Paris. Printemps. Papillons. Ma niece.

These are the images that come to mind when I think of Spring.

When it came time to make a quilt for my niece, I decided to use the pattern "Turning Twenty". I used both vintage fabrics and new fabrics to create this quilt that reflects my niece's wonderfully vivid and creative imagination.

My niece is learning French in school right now. Last year she put in a request to go to Paris with Auntie and Uncle the next time we go. Someday, I would love to honor that request.

"I love Paris in the Spring time."

Maple Syrup

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Maple Scones

The Quebecois are passionate about maple syrup. I saw a public service announcement that suggests that maple syrup can be used as a substitute  for any sugar in a recipe. Maple syrup may be the only grocery item that is cheaper in Montreal than in Saskatoon. Anyway, in an attempt to embrace Quebec life, I bought a cookbook (en français) that uses maple syrup in every recipe. I have not been disappointed with any recipe yet. Maple scones, maple walnut pie, ribs marinated in syrup, maple glazed veggies, pork tourtiere. Très délicieux. I am going to attempt making all of the recipes before I leave Quebec. You can be sure that I will be cooking my favorites for friends and family back home.

Maple Tea Latte

Maple syrup use in Quebec reminds me of Bubba talking about shrimp in the movie Forrest Gump. "Anyway, like I was sayin', shrimp is the fruit of the sea. You can barbecue it, boil it, broil it, bake it, saute it. Dey's uh, shrimp-kabobs, shrimp creole, shrimp gumbo. Pan fried, deep fried, stir-fried. There's pineapple shrimp, lemon shrimp, coconut shrimp, pepper shrimp, shrimp soup, shrimp stew, shrimp salad, shrimp and potatoes, shrimp burger, shrimp sandwich. That- that's about it." I think you can make an equally impressive list of maple syrup products: maple syrup and beans, maple syrup and eggs, maple syrup on snow, maple cheddar cheese, maple syrup candies, maple cookies...Last Thursday Daryl & I walked down to Vieux Port and stopped at a cafe. Of course they had, and I had to order, the maple latte tea. It was the perfect way to end a tough day at work in Quebec.

Cabane a sucre cupcake

We walked past a store the other day called Petits Gâteaux. They created a cupcake called cabane à sucre. If you don't know what a cabane à sucre is, I will fill you in next week. We are going to one with some friends here. It's a Quebec tradition during maple tree tapping season.

 I am only starting to tap into my inner maple syrup love.

A cabin & a baby

A modern log cabin pattern for the new baby.

How do you tell your friends and family about an exciting change in your life that is about to happen? A phone call, a note, a text, an elaborate ruse?

Well, finding out about a cabin, a baby, and moving all at one summer picnic may have been a bit overwhelming, but what fun it was to hear and tell.

We vowed that we should limit sharing any big news to one item per visit.

The Modern Cabin

le sportif

I am not much of a sports fan. I am vaguely aware of what teams are winning and losing when it comes to playoff season. However, there was a time in my past, when I was younger that my favourite hockey team was the Edmonton Oilers. Gretzky, Messier, Coffey, these were names that I knew and cheered for. Today, I am not certain that I could name any player on the Oilers or on any team for that matter. With that said, when the Olympics are on, I pull out my pompoms and big foam finger. Daryl cannot quite understand my Olympic fever, nor can I really shed any light on the matter, but Go Canada is not far from my lips.

In March, we celebrate another birthday in the family. My nephew is an athlete and an outdoorsman, all balanced with a sensitive spirit. A couple of years ago for school, my nephew had to do a 3 min speech on a subject that he was passionate about, for him, it was and still is fishing. He told us about ice fishing and fishing at Deschambault lake. He spoke about all the different types of fish in Northern Saskatchewan. He knows fishing and loves to be outdoors.

When it came time to make a quilt for him I knew a sports theme would be perfect. I had lots of fun with this one, making the appliques and thinking about the different sports that he enjoys. Hockey season is over this year for him, but once the snow clears, the baseball glove and bat will emerge.

Let's Play

This ice sculpture outside of marche jean talon reminded me of my nephew

Femineered

My in laws had this great fridge in their basement. At some point in the past the handle was broken off so you had to open it with this long bolt. The best part of the fridge was the label inside..."It's femineered!". The first time I saw the label, I was slightly offended, but loved the terminology. Femineered. What Mad Man came up with that catch phrase. Is the fridge more appealing and more reliable knowing that it is femineered? Anyways, it makes me laugh.

Well, I am not certain if sewing machines ever got the same label, "It's femineered", but today I ventured out with eager anticipation of purchasing a new to me sewing machine. The machine looks the same vintage as the refrigerator, so what woman wouldn't want it femineered? The sewing store near our condo is quaint and since I don't have a car, I thought this solution would be the easiest. Some of those old machines weighed a ton, but one cannot judge a book by its cover. If this machine can sew a straight stitch, that is all I need for quilting. Happily I purchased a Singer and carried it home. No time like the present. Time to start quilting. My walking quilt foot even works with it. With it set up and ready to go, I start sewing, sort of. It is not working seamlessly, it is causing me much grief, but I press on. I make little adjustments, however I am not certain I have the patience to deal with this. The afternoon has passed and I am finding myself more frustrated by the moment. I am afraid that this machine and I need to part ways.

Le chat noir 2

Tonight I was looking at some books on a bookshelf in our apartment and discovered a letter that was left behind. Perhaps it would be a love letter or a note from a friend or a grocery list. It was none of these. It reads as follows:

Stéphanie
Tu dois payer l'appartement!! S'il n'est pas payer d'ici Mercredi 20/juin tu devras quitter!

Translation: you must pay your rent!! If you don't pay by Wednesday June 20 you must leave!

Who was this Stephanie? Is she the one who had a cat living here? Why was she late with her rent? Did she leave behind some of the weird stuff in the cupboards & closets? Why did she leave the letter folded up stick between some books? I pretty certain I would have crumpled up the letter and tossed it out. Ask me sometime what I do with some of the Turnanich notices slipped under the door at the condo.

When we moved in here, we found some cat shampoo on the first day. Both of us were not impressed because the place was advertised as pet free and if you don't know Daryl, he is allergic to cats. We had a mini freak out, perhaps mostly due to the fact that we had just committed to a 7 month lease in a place far from home. Well the freak out has passed, mostly, and the discovery of this new place we call home continues.

le chat noir

I have been in Montreal for two weeks now and I am starting to normalize. We have discovered that many of the museums here are free Wednesday nights, so Wednesday will be museum day for us. Walked to the top of Mont Royal where the vista of the city is remarkable. Had poutine @ Bonquise. It was good, but wouldn't want to eat there more than once every six months. Last night we were invited out for a raclette meal. We were told that it is a must do, French experience. Wine, cheese, cured meats, what more could you ask for?

As for quilting, I have found one great tissus (fabric) store so far on St Hubert. I am looking forward to visiting it again. One block from where we live, I stumbled upon a vintage and repurposed fabric store where they sell sewing machines from the 1960s, fabric, salvaged buttons, zippers, & shoulder pads, among other sewing necessities. I think I will buy un machine à coudre because they said that they would buy it back from me when I am done with it. Seems like a fair deal.

out of season

Bonjour mes amis
We are in Montreal and searching for a place to live. I do believe we have narrowed it down and will be putting cash on the table this afternoon.

Last night Daryl and I were craving gelato. With 2 stores near by we thought we were in luck. We walked into the first resto and were greeted by a jolly fellow. Table for 2? No just gelato tonight, pointing at the freezer of brightly colored gelato. He shakes his head and remarks that it is out of season. With obvious looks of disappointment on our faces he tried to steer us towards a piece of cake. Although they looked delicious we declined and walked toward the next cafe. With eager anticipation we approached the freezer and saw that the cooler was covered with cardboard boxes. We inquired about the gelato and she also said that it was out of season.

Daryl and I were befuddled by this discovery that gelato can be out of season. I guess Jerrys in Saskatoon has not received the memo that gelato has an in season.

Checked baggage

A year of change, uncertainty and adventure awaits. Je suis excite et nerveux. My mom chuckled at me this past week as I practiced expressing my feelings en francais.

What does one pack for a year long adventure? What luxury items does one bring and what do you need to let go of and leave behind? This is not an easy task. Ask any of my friends and they will tell you that I love purging and organizing. I thought I kept up this fairly well in my own home, until I started packing. I have accumulated a lot of stuff in the last four years. I was a bit disgusted with myself. Upon our return, there will be a great purging going on.

My luxury items and necessities: Nespresso milk frother. Check. French-English dictionary. Check. Pink puffy. Check. Sewing machine...I had my sewing machine packed in one of the 6 suitcases that we are bringing but my mom talked me out of it. She figured I would be able to rent one when the mood struck. Daryl did a google search and confirmed that a sewing machine would not be difficult to come by. Out came the machine. Not sure how much quilting I will get done this year, but I will enjoy making chai lattes.

Whether I am quilting or out adventuring, I will keep you all up to date.

Off to Montreal we go.

Scientific Method

Recently I came across a blog "It's Okay to be Smart". It has quirky articles, interesting illustrations, amazing pictures, and fascinating facts. This basically describes one of my nephews who will be celebrating his birthday this month. He is quirky, interesting, amazing, and fascinating. Common discussions with him include how would gravity work on a square planet?, where would be the best place to build your house on a square planet?, what kind of rock would be the best type of rock to create rock people?, what's your favorite element?

When thinking about his quilt, I knew that I had to stick to a science theme. What boy is not fascinated with explosions and danger? With that in mind, I decided to applique hazard symbols on it. I love how they turned out.

I watched a clip on the above mentioned blog based on the Stanford Marshmallow Experiment about delaying gratification. As I watched the kids struggle with the decision to eat the one marshmallow immediately or wait for the researcher to come back in order to receive a second marshmallow, I chuckled as I watched them agonize. This reminds me of a conversations that my nephew and I had with several other family members about empathy. Watch the clip and see what your reaction is.

Throw caution to the wind quilt 2007

One of my favourite pics of my nephew (left) and my husband 2012