Guelph Digest

I thought my blog needed some sex appeal. This is my favourite mug from my Grandfather's "Naughty Mug" collection.

Well, how was everyone's Christmas? I spent mine Chez Grandma, in the town of Ingleside, which is kind of like a suburb of Cornwall, a town whose most notable feature was its paper plant. Which has since closed down. I feel bad about making fun of it, because the people there are quite nice. However, being in a small town when you're stuck with family, and old enough to resent the fact, is no fun. Although Guelph is not Montreal, you can still get out of your house and go somewhere. In Ingleside, there is no "there" there, at least outside of the house after regular business hours. Unless if it's somebody else's house. What I'm driving at is that I spent a lot of time upstairs, reading, this Christmas. I still recorded two bits of Grandmotherly wit and wisdom to carry you guys into the New Year, however:

1. "And they were selling popcorn for thirteen dollars! I just about shit myself!"
-Grandma Protagitron on her encounter with price gouging at a production of Mamma Mia.
2. "And she was using the toilet, so I had to pee in the sink! It was that or piss on the floor."
-Grandma P again, on proper bathroom etiquette when traveling in the state of New York.

What year is it at Grandma's house? Is it 1954, 2004, 1982, 1983, or a year represented on none of these calendars?

I am now back in Guelph, considerably more enlightened. Also, considerably better dressed. Montreal friends, there is a reason to get out of the city. I don't care if you're going to Ontario, or Moose Jaw, or even staying in Quebec and going to some po'dunk town where the locals give you the stink eye. The second hand clothing is going to kick Montreal's ass. I'm not saying that Montreal doesn't have good thrifting, just that you are competing with 1 620 692* other people for the choice items, and they are probably craftier and better at haggling than you are. So, you can either be lucky, fork over some serious coin, or content yourself with the best the early 90s has to offer in burgundy corduroy.

Guelph Haul

I am never lucky, so I am Guelphy. In today's haul: Vintage herringbone jacket, made in Edinburgh sometime in the sixties, judging from the label. Diane Von Furstenberg scarf, which I paid more for than I usually pay for secondhand goods, but 14$ for DVF is a sacrifice I'm willing to make. And, from Value Village, the Bluest Coat in the World. It is so blue it is post-post-blue. It deserves its own biohazard sticker. The legally blind might be able to make out light, dark, and this coat. I love it, and plan to be buried in it.

There is another good reason to go to Guelph: All Strung Out. Mote has her own (awesome) yarn store. I wasn't around when it opened, but I had to come down and drop a few dollars. Not as much as I would have liked, but I am under severe financial and space considerations. Also, my stash is in danger of smothering the cat, which would just push me over the edge from righteous to sad spinster. So, I limited myself to just some Diamond sock yarn, which is a gift for a friend anyway, and some Noro Kureyon Sock, which is for a secret project. But here's why you shouldn't do the same:

1. Supporting local businesses is awesome.
2. Mote is a lovely person.
3. Who doesn't love yarn?

I can't think of a better three reasons. And for those smartasses who are wondering if I even knit anymore, some day there will be pictures. Or maybe line drawings. Whatever.

Winter in balmy Guelph. Slushtastic!