Scrawled on a railway underpass in magic marker, in dear ol' B'ville:
Wicked Clown Love Whoop whoop
This proves it. I live in the cultural centre of the world.
Scrawled on a railway underpass in magic marker, in dear ol' B'ville:
Wicked Clown Love Whoop whoop
This proves it. I live in the cultural centre of the world.
Hello there!
It's been a little over a month since I last checked in.
So. What have I been up to? Let's see...
There was a lovely salad I made, glorified by some leftover chicken, some garden flowers and a weed.
There was the Dock Jumping competition at Superdog Central.
(That would be the Teenager's godmother. No. Not the one in the pool. That's Storm.)
There was also frisbee chasing at Superdog Central.
There was 'Pioneer Days' at Darlington Provincial Park, where Sue and I were demonstrating with our spinning wheels.
There was progress on the street.
There was the cottage trip, hosted by the Teenager's godparents.
There was a camping trip to The Pinery,
and along with it, an afternoon spent on the Boardwalk, in Grand Bend.
And another run-in with the little white criminal.
See that shopping bag in the background? It was upright. The two pilfered skeins of yarn were inside it. Good thing they were tied well.
After a spectacular day in Stratford, and a good night's sleep at the Swan Motel, we went back into town to do a little shopping. If I had been on-the-ball enough to bring the camera along, I could have shown you the bar of Decadent soap and the wrap skirt I bought at p'lovers. And I could have shown you the lovely vintage-y sundress I bought at the little antique shop that was hiding just across the alley from the Stratford Chef's School -- along with the 1936 Swans Down Cake and Pastry Flour cookbook. I could have shown you the bright red, chili-garlic peanut brittle that we tried at the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory. If I had been clever enough to bring the camera along. But I wasn't.
After our shopping trip, we got back into the car and headed back toward home. When we got to Highway 404, we headed up to my Mother in Law's house.
There are two things you need to know about my Mother in Law. One: I adore her. No. Really. I do. I am one of the luckiest people in the world to have a welcoming, gracious Mother in Law. Two: Her birthday is the day before mine. So the Man of my Dreams and I decided to visit her and take her out for dinner on her birthday. We decided on Milestones, in Newmarket.
After much deciding, we chose our dinners. Prime rib for each of them, and Portobello Chicken for me. Yum.
My Mother in Law and I came to an agreement long ago. No ratting out birthdays to the server. If you don't, I won't.
The agreement never seems to apply to the Man of my Dreams, though. So, after we finished sharing a sizeable helping of key lime pie, house-made cookies and ice cream came to the table for each of us, complete with sparklers.
Which, of course burned out, just before the picture was snapped.
After a wonderful, too-big dinner, we headed back home. We were greeted by herself.
You left me alone. I ate all of my food in the first half hour, after you were gone. (burp) I don't like the person you got to check up on me.
What?!
Don't just stand there. Feed me!
Ain't it great to be appreciated?
While most of Canada spent Friday at the beach or on the deck, enjoying hot dogs and cold drinks and celebrating Canada Day, my time was spent doing something a little different.
You see, today, I turn 50. Early last week, I was told I needed to make sure I had nice, casual dress clothes ready for Friday. Always open to the opportunity to go shopping, I complied. New blouse? Check. New pants? Check, again. New shoes? Of course. I even threw in a manicure and a pedicure. I will arrive wherever it is that I'm going, dressed to the nines.
Well. Where AM I going, anyway?
The Teenager is at a friend's cottage for the weekend and the cat
didn't much seem to care, as long as there is food in the dish.
Our GPS (whom we affectionately call 'Kate') wasn't telling.
Neither was the Man with the Plan.
He does know that I don't function well without my breakfast, so our first stop was, oh, so appropriate, for breakfast on Canada Day
Yup. That's me eating a breakfast biscuit, at Tim Horton's.
From this point on, I'll leave the scintillating 2-hour drive along the 401 to your imagination. I can tell you that I was told to pack light. This, I'm pretty good at. (That bag is for both of us.)
Things started to get interesting when we exited at Woodstock. I was by this time completely flummoxed, since I know that nothing terribly exciting is happening in Woodstock, around Canada Day, that can't be enjoyed at home. Right?
Well there might be a shepherd or fibre processing plant out here, somewhere.
We spent a very nice hour on the back roads of New Hamburg
And I was still totally confused and wondering what we were doing, all dressed up in farm country.
Well, they say patience is a virtue. I wasn't feeling very virtuous, and just as I was about to yank the steering wheel out of the Man's hands and demand, "Tell me, TELL me TELL ME!!", I started recogizing where I was.
So, we did a little shopping, because we had some time before the totality of my birthday surprise was to be revealed. There was a really fun toy store,
and hats to try on, seemingly wherever we looked.
Is that...?
It IS! This is Stratford, after all, and that's the Festival Theatre!
Oooo! What's playing? Do we really get to go in? Pleasepleasepleasedon'taskmetositstillandbeladylikeanddecorousbecauseI'mabouttoexPLODE!
This is what's playing:
And this, (Oh, be still my beating heart!) this is where we sat:
In case you missed it, that is one of a pair of front row seats. I very nearly cried, I was so excited. An extraordinary performance followed -- including a walk-on performance by a hawk. (Or, would that be fly-on? Hmm.) It was an amazing show, with music, costumes and choreography up to the calibre you'd imagine from a world class stage company, as well.
Umm. I think I might be babbling.
The show ended around 4:30, and dinner reservations weren't until 7:00 (The Man of my Dreams still had a surprise for me, and I had no idea where we were going for dinner), so we went back to the motel where we were to stay for the night.
Wait. Wait, that's not the right setting. Here's a better idea:
That's more like it. The Swan Motel. A neat, spacious, comfortable, quiet room, with coffee and muffins available in the office for breakfast. And did I mention the gardens?
There are beautifully kept lawns and gardens all over the property, and just when you begin to wonder if you should be allowed to pitch a tent in a botanical garden, the driveway opens up and you find yourself parked at the door to your room. Yes, that's a gazebo, and there's a great swimming pool, too.
Plus lots of places to just sit with a cold drink and chat. And there are lots of people to chat with. We checked out the muffins-and-coffee at breakfast, and discovered some lively conversation with Colleen (the lady of the manor, so to speak) and some of the guests.
But, I'm getting ahead of myself. We spent a little while walking the grounds at the hotel before I was whisked off to dinner. And where was I to dine?
Here:
This is Raja Fine Indian Cuisine. See all those hanging baskets? They are camoflaging a beautiful deck
Even though there was a Canada Day parade going by, less than a block away, this dining area felt secluded and private. And when the last of the pipe and drum corps passed by, it was serene, too. But pretty and quiet do not a fine dinner make. The chef and his staff definitely know their stuff. First came papadums and condiments (I may have eaten most of the pickle):
followed by a glorious dinner.
We chose Vegetable Samosas for our appetizer. Dinner was Tandoori Chicken, with Peas Pulao, and Mixed Vegetables. I had a glass of Riesling with dinner and The Man had a Kingfisher beer. And I must confess a weakness for Naan. I can live without dinner rolls most of the time, but there is something about that tasty Indian flatbread that just makes me happy to be within breathing distance of it. It's even better when I get to eat some. And I did. It was Garlic Naan. So, so good. Everything was incredibly good, actually. It was a great birthday gift to me, that's for sure. And after I finished the seconds of veggies, and personally inspected the very bottom of the dish of mixed pickle, I realized that I was going to have trouble finding room for dessert. I shouldn't have worried. The dessert menu was filled with house-made sorbets and mango ice cream. I chose lemon. And asked for two spoons. I wish I could remember to take pictures of my food before I start eating...
We topped our dinner off with liqueurs
What an amazing birthday gift. A surprise trip to Stratford, Camelot, Raja Fine Indian Cuisine. I am one lucky person.
This was Day 1. I was treated on Saturday and today, too. But more about that, later.
Now you know why I call him the Man of my Dreams.
After a perfect day at the Gather, in Port Hope, I thought I should show you what I, umm... gathered.
A Wellington sock yarn blank in the colourway Wellington Flame
100g of Border Leicester locks, from Shepherd's Hill Farm, in Campbellford
One of Heidi's famous batts. This one's a scrummy blue, with sparkly banana fibres throughout.
Handpainted roving by the Dye Wizard, Jared -- a thirteen-year-old with a remarkable eye for colour.
A 50g batt of natural black lambswool blended with beautiful sea-coloured silk. Can't remember the name of the shop.
Black superwash blended with copper coloured firestar, from Dyeing for Colour
And one steamable niddy noddy, courtesy of Heidi at Sheep and Spindle
All this fibre shopping has me looking forward to the Knitters' Frolic.
Wanno go?
This past Saturday, I hopped into my car, picked up Sue and Beth, and headed off to Port Hope for the annual fibrefest known as 'A Gathering of Handspinners', presented by the Great Pine Ridge Spinners and Weavers and the Northumberland Hooks and Needles Guild.
I look forward to this day all year.
This is one of those meet-ups that I can never explain to normal people. How do you explain, to the average person-on-the-street, that you're off to investigate fleece?
Fleece? Like sweat-suits, right?
No. Fleece. Like giving a sheep a haircut, then turning it into yarn.
Yeah, right. Everyone knows that fleece is made out of pop bottles.
Sigh.
Never mind.
Saturday, I spent rummaging through raw fleeces, poking through prepped rovings and examining new equipment with all the joy and excitement of a 15-year-old boy, being introduced to his first HEMI.
I got to meet wildlife:
The little bunny and his lovely steward belong to Sylvia.
I was offered food and drink:
I said, "Hello," to the father of my favourite drop spindles:
(That would be, the one and only, Alvin Ramer! Best crafter of spinning and fibre prep equipment I know.)
I met more friends there:
That's Reagan, extolling the joys and virtues of her Bosworth spindle to Beth and Sue.
And Heidi, the brains behind Sheep and Spindle fibres.
That's Heidi, on the left. (Don't you just love her hair?) She's initiating a new spindle spinner.
One of the neat things about the Gathering is the socks. Many spinners and knitters who attend, like to demonstrate their ability with the wool and needles. The results are beautiful and myriad:
Beautiful. Every pair.
I saw many, many beautiful yarns being spun up from some glorious natural and dyed fleeces. This one, by Mara, was just amazing. She told me that she started with a natural gray fleece (I can't remember the breed), and then dyed it with coreopsis flowers. From the freezer.
Isn't that gorgeous? I think so.
Mara also invited me to come and check out the Great Pine Ridge Spinners and Weavers. I think I just might.
At around 1pm, there was a door prize draw. The prize table was loaded, this year
After the draw, (No, I didn't win anything.) I started touring the hall, determined to go home with something truly special. Not difficult, here.
There was Rose Haven Farm
and the lovely ladies from Dyeing for Colour
And many, many, other, wonderful enablers fleece providers -- hence the big smiles on my girls and me.
Too soon, it was time to go back out into the rain and head home
After we dropped Beth off, Sue commented on feeling cold. So we did what any self-respecting, cold and damp Canadian would
Tomorrow, I'll show you what goodies I acquired.
Eek! Where did the week go?
Let's see...
Monday saw me in the kitchen, baking. For the first time in ages. What did I make?
We call them Kitchen Sink Muffins. They're based on a Morning Glory muffin recipe that I've had around, but then we added a few extra things. Pretty. Aren't they? At least before I mixed 'em up
And they made the house smell sooo good! I may have had muffins for dinner.
Tuesday, I went to the Warkworth Spinners and Weavers Guild's Annual Spin In. In Campbellford. Which is a bit of a hike from my house. But, what the heck. Road Trip!!
It was a first for me, but it was their 21st Annual.
Know what a sea of spinners looks like? It looks like this
That room was alive with spinners and wheels, in any direction one cared to look.
And there were treats. Provided by the wonderful Warkworth Guild members!
And lunch. Lamb burgers. Andrea, this one's for you. Doesn't Sue look like she's enjoying that?
I would guess there were about 100 spinners and their wheels in attendance. It was amazing.
After a fun-filled day of spinning, yakking and stash acquisition, it was time to go home.
Debbie, Beth, Sue. My spinning girls. Don't they look happy?
What? In the trunk? Nope. Nothin' to see there. Just a big ol' bunch o' empty ....
Home is good, too.
Wednesday and Thursday were taken up by the never-ending and mighty job hunt. Nuff said.
And today, I prepare for a much anticipated weekend in the Haliburton Highlands with good friends, good times and good food.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
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