Domestic Sunday: Turkey Day Edition

Happy (Canadian) Thanksgiving! I hope your dinner chart looked much like mine: 33% turkey, 33% stuffing, 24% mashed potatoes, 10% carrots, and then all the gravy you want poured all over that. With the gravy, that's more than 100%, but Thanksgiving is about the two G's - gratitude and gluttony - so why not give 110% to your food?

In the ensuing tryptophan haze (urban myth), I nearly forgot that I had planned to bring back Domestic Whateverday to the blog on Sunday. Perhaps barely Monday morning still counts?

Unfortunately, the domestic craft portion of the post is not all that inspiring. In fact, it's a bag of fabric:

The plan is for this to become a new quilt for my new apartment. That was also my plan when I moved into the new apartment. At the end of June.

While that photo may not be that inspiring, I assure you that I've done something over the past three months. Behold:

Why, that's like six finished squares, and a few more than are halfway there! I only need to sew about 75 more, sew those together into the quilt top, get the batting and the backing, quilt all that together, and...

Whoah ho ho, it's beer! Let's move on to the other domestic part of Domestic Sunday, the brew. This is the Country Bumpkin from Niagara Oast House Brewers. It's probably much lighter than it appears in the photo, which was taken inside of a King Street bar that has its dimmer switch perpetually set to "smoky 17th century coffeehouse", ie, dark. This disconcerts me in the same way that a casino's censure of natural light bewilders a gambler, so that I probably spend more money than I should, and then act like a cave salamander when I finally head out into the bright and irritating light of day.

Or so any "working lunch" there usually goes. At least this time I kept to one pint. I picked the Country Bumpkin because October is the time for pumpkin beer. Pumpkin beers seem to be coming under increasing criticism from beer folks, and I resent that, because they're often delicious. I also resent the distinct note of sexism I've started picking up, alongside the notes of clove and cinnamon in the beer. Even supporters will feebly celebrate pumpkin ale as, essentially, gateway craft beer for the ladies.

Yes, some pumpkin beers do taste a little too sweet, going heavily enough on the spice that they start to taste less like a beer, and more like a carbonated Pumpkin Spice Latte. And so people will extend their stereotypes of PSL drinkers to beer. But screw 'em. More beer for me, and even a dudely hophead should have few issues with the Country Bumpkin. It was low on the carbonation, and the expected pie spices were supported by the hint of something vegetal. It's worth checking out, both as a decent beer, and as a fine introduction to the style.

Guelph By The Thingies: Hillside Mug

The Hillside Music Festival is just big enough that it sells out every year, and just small enough that I still ended up proselytizing about it to people in Montreal. This weekend-long tribute to music and the crunchy arts is well-known in most Canadian music circles, to be fair. But get away from seasoned CBC listeners, or even just cross the provincial border, and many people don't know it exists.

Which is a shame, because Hillside always has a decent lineup. And it doesn't make you pay 4-8$ for a bottle of water. No, all of its food comes from a rotating roster of local restaurants and catering companies, there's a water truck for you to fill up your reusable bottle and you get a special plastic mug in which to deposit your beer.

You can also take a break from the music whenever you need to, and learn how to vermicompost or parse the difference between brownies and imps. (I wouldn't know, as I couldn't work up the courage to attend Fairies 101 last year.) It's also a good lens on Guelph tensions, as the questions of whether this Hillside is better than the last, whether there should be more people allowed in or not, or even whether the Guelphite to Outsider ratio is too high, all hang over the main stage. However, those issues are also easy enough to forget as long as you've brought your trusty mug and some money along with you.

Guelph By The Thingies: Graffiti

Downtown Guelph has many things going for it. On a brisk twenty minute walking circuit, you can go to the knitting store, pick up a used book at Macondo, and even visit the City Hall, should you ever want to see democracy in action. (I have never ever wanted to do so.)

However, downtown Guelph is not without its faults. A lot of stores do well, but there are many empty storefronts and a struggling mall right in the middle of the main square. Once the stores close, it's a wasteland until the bars open. And a block has remained burned out for years.

One of the ideas to revitalize the downtown was to move the library from it's squaretastic '70s-era digs to a new and more central location. To that end, a whole row of stores was essentially forced out. They remain empty.

Please look upon the superimposition of the street as artistic, and not the effect of annoyingly glazed windows.

If you look through the window of what used to be the Family Thrift Store, you'll see someone has spray-painted "We need communities not condos" on one of the abandoned walls. I don't think Guelph has decided whether it should agree with that sentiment or not.

Guelph By The Thingies: Real Estate Business Card

Guelph isn't all locally-sourced squares and indie bookstore newsletters, no matter what my previous entries would have you believe. So far I think I've skewed things to reflect the Guelph I mostly grew up with, which happens to be a Guelph delineated by what was in walking distance from my house.

My house was close to downtown though, which meant that I had easy access to the bakery and bookstore I talked about earlier. However, that also meant I needed a drive to Guelph's true shopping Mecca, Stone Road Mall, when it was time to go back to school.

There were cheaper clothes in other strip malls, and classier ones at boutiques downtown, but for mid-priced, middle-of-the-road style that would get you through high school (Then: The American Eagle Equilibrium. Now: Whatever It Is The Kids Like), Stone Road Mall was where it was at. And around it, there were satellite strip malls, with even more shopping options, at that time mostly Staples and the pet store.

The mall has even metastasized since I left, with more stores, a fireplace in the food court and even larger big box stores opening down the street. I walked around it all, hoping to find something that represented all the growth. But everything construction-related was safely kept away and anything else was priced. Finally, I went to guest services, where they told me the administration offices were closed and handed me a business card instead.

Maybe this "Anna Grant" has the answers to how far the Stone Road Mall will grow. I don't think it will be much, since it's already pushing its parking boundaries. Then again, who knows? Maybe they will collapse space and time around a Gap, and the mall will finally be larger than the downtown itself.

*Sorry I didn't post this last Friday - I ended up being really busy on the weekend.

Guelph By The Thingies: With The Grain Square

With The Grain is a local bakery that opened up when I was about 11. Back then, they had a tiny storefront in a house and just sold bread. Now they have risen like so many yeasty loaves to take over three buildings and offer everything edible from scones to squares to bread to jams. Basically, anything that makes the latest issue of the Globe and Mail go down easy.

And they've deserved every bit of success, because everything they sell is delicious. Also, rather dense, so you really get your money's worth. For example, the square you see here - a slice of seasonal, Ginger-Peach cheesecake - might seem pricey at $4.25. However, that's only half of the square. And considering With The Grain's philosophy of using "fresh, local, and natural ingredients" those peaches are probably real Ontario peaches (which, for people unlucky enough to grow up elsewhere, are golden orbs worthy of Zeus himself) and the ginger has been ground by donkeys at a sanctuary or something. Then again, at With The Grain, it could come from Satan himself and people would still flock there.

Tomorrow: I venture to Stone Road Mall in search of an artifact of Guelph's sprawl.

Guelph By The Thingies: Guelph Remastered Sign

Right now, construction is everywhere in Guelph. You know how the standard joke for any Canadian city is that there are two seasons, winter and construction? Well, in Guelph it seems that there are three modes. Winter, construction, and MEGA CONSTRUCT OVERDRIVE 3000. We currently appear to be in the latter, with every two blocks or so having some kind of site.

The City even has a name for it, and sadly it is not my infinitely superior version found above. Instead, it is Guelph. Remastered. The posters are actually quite pretty, but the highlight is the slogan: "It'll be worth it."

It's rare to see an ad campaign based on how unconvincing its product's premise can be. Well, at least the ads are ready to placate the irate drivers who can't use Victoria Road. If they don't work though, I have two slogans they can use instead: "Guelph: Please Bear With Us" and "Guelph: Technical Difficulties, Please Stand By." If either slogan is used, I will accept payment in City of Guelph pens and bookmarks. It'll be worth it.

Guelph By The Thingies: Off The Shelf, The Bookshelf Newspaper

This is The Bookshelf (courtesy of Google Images.) Explaining it to Outlanders was one of my most difficult tasks while living in Montreal. I could make it through "local independent bookstore" - Oh, that's great! - "it's pretty much the only one in town" - Cute! - "and sometimes it feels like it has a Medici-like stranglehold on local arts and culture" - which would then earn a disbelieving look. Alright, I exaggerate just a bit, but it's a complex containing a bookstore, restaurant, café and art cinema, so unless $5 popcorn and Avatar is your thing, it's where you'll probably end up in Guelph.


It also publishes its own bimonthly newsletter, complete with cinema listings, book reviews and ads for local therapists and life coaches. A lot of them. Eleven out of forty one ads, if you include Irish spirit wheel workshops, which I do.

At first, I wanted to make fun of that hilariously high percentage, and how living in Guelph sometimes feels like you're stuck in a Dykes To Watch Out For comic strip. Or a historical village dedicated to the 1970s,with very intense interpreters. However, I can't say I would change a thing. There's something comforting, and positively Guelphian (in both senses) in all the therapy media. It's not that this newsletter is saying you must be a better person, or that you will be a better person. It just seems to think, that with enough work, you can be a better person. All problems can be solved, all sexual dysfunctions put to work and all Irish spirit wheels turning as long as you just find the right person with the right credentials.

In this case, Jungian psychoanalysis seems to have the advantage. Two out of eleven ads, for three therapists.

Here's a breakdown of the rest of the ads, just in case you were interested. Me? I just like making pie charts.

Back To Ontario

To continue my last post: So, I moved. There was a last-minute snafu involving - who else? - Quebec hydro, that lead to a mental breakdown, a lot of swearing and then a significant outlay of funds. However, I managed to overcome that last little wrinkle, and barring a threatening phone call from my old landlord or the girl who's taking over my apartment, I am free of Montreal.

And it feels kind of gross.

Especially since I've become the cliche of cliches, a New York Times Magazine article. Yes, I am now one of those twentysomethings who has taken wing, soared above the city... and turned right around and back into the nest. I rather exhausted my savings being unemployed in Montreal, and until I find a job in Toronto, I am living in Guelph.

I keep on having terrifying premonitions that this whole experiment will end with me eating cheezies and watching The Price Is Right at two in the afternoon, entertaining erotic notions about Bob Barker and wondering why I now have to settle for Drew Carey.

Anyway, I want to get this blog back on a 1962 recipe-making, movie-bitching path, but I think that's at least a week away while I deal with my quarterlife crisis. Until then, I'm going to try and explain my hometown with daily posts on particularly Guelphy artifacts, starting with the local independent bookstore/ art house cinema's bimonthly listings. Oh yes, in Guelph we believe in versatility.

To Montreal I Return!

Somehow, I couldn't quite convince my parents that finding goose liver sausages, mashing them up, spreading them on saltines and calling it delicious was a viable dinner option. I guess they actually suffered through the '60s, so cooking from 1962 was not an option. So, you'll be getting a special DECADE MEAL on Sunday, where I make two recipes just to get caught up, and then you'll probably also get a special LIVE HOSPITAL BLOG Monday morning when I go to get my stomach pumped.

Toronto was a ton of fun, even if it culminated with an embarrassing faceplant on a concrete sidewalk. I met up with all the friends I missed, including a crew who can outdrink me. The Ukrainian side of my genes was ever so ashamed of my performance. However, since I packed a week's worth of festivities into a day and half, most of which was spent carrying around my weight in clothes and sundries in a suitcase, I was pretty much dead when I returned to Guelph. So three quiet days with Smitty The Wonder Dog, my master chef dad and my mom were much appreciated. Even if they included conversations like this:

*Scene: debating dinner options with my family, with a cookbook's odd take on tuna sandwiches coming out ahead*
Mom: Since when did you start eating tuna?
Protagitron: Since I started being broke. I ate tuna noodle casseroles all the time for a while there.
Mom: But Protagitron, these are sandwiches and not casseroles, you know.
*I stare at the cookbook page facing me with "Tuna Sandwiches" in large letters. And a photo of a filling nestled between two slices of bread. As sandwiches so often are.*
Protagitron: I... was... aware of that, mother.
Mom: Oh, shut up.

Now I'm back in Montreal, celebrating a Netherlands win and poking my lazy, sleeping cat to make sure he's still alive. All is right in my world.

To Guelph!

I'm off to the hometown tomorrow. I'm sure Proustian reveries set off by farmer's market bacon, or at least beer illicitly drank in the basement, are not far off.

At least I usually get some decent thrift store finds.

Until then, don't give into whatever secret Twilight lusts you've been harboring and see Little Ashes. Unless if you have an ass of STEEL because this thing is long. I would give it a longer autopsy (hero worship of Garcia Lorca? episodic nature? NOT ENOUGH NAKED PATTINSON?!?) but I think I already spent long enough on the movie.

Remember folks, just say no to the pretty.

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!

The Stupid Week: Stupid Injuries

I went to meet up with some old friends (and their new friends) for Ultimate Frisbee and a Barbecue. I read Strangers on a Train instead of moving, because I'm allergic to sweat. My doctor just refuses to believe me. Anyway, despite remaining as immobile and lichen-like as possible, I woke up this morning with a sizable bruise on my leg. It doesn't hurt that much, it's just perplexing. Where did it come from? How did it get there? And what kind of story can I come up to explain it and impress my peers?

Something that's resolutely non-stupid are the pair of Jaywalkers I'm working on. The yarn is Regia 4-ply in "Calgary", and the colours remind me of the buckets of Gerber daisies you see outside of florists. Which is a good thing, because the recipient adores Gerber daisies. Ding ding ding, the lucky recipient is my beloved roommate. Although, she's making time in Italy and England this summer, while I'm a prisoner in my hometown, a place where bus ads about workplace safety are taken down because one mother found them too graphic, and the fight over the pesticide ban limps on. Clearly, I deserve the damn socks. Screw you, my beloved Minnesotan!

Alright, I'm being too hard on Guelph. The knitting store is nice, the people are fine, and the farmer's market is reassuringly crunchy. Also, the good salsa is close by. I still wouldn't say no to a rescue team though.

Mother, MAY I- Whoah.

Stupid May. Winter hung around for so long that it seems a little presumptuous of my calendar to tell me that it's May already. I've done the tour of all the Guelph stores, and am almost caught up with my appointments. Orthodontist down, driver's license replaced, and doctor's appointment booked. Next: dentist, hair and job. When you're an undergrad, the times you go home sometimes feel like you're a car going in for a tune-up, and you come out of the whirlwind of mechanics better-dressed, tressed, and fed. I've been opening my parent's fridge in wonder since I got home. Not only is it big people-sized, (the appliances in my apartment look like refugees from a Fisher -Price playset), but it's full of food. And not just No-Name juice from concentrate and yellow mustard, but real food. I try not to sneak in the deli meats, but the capicolo is too delicious to resist.

In one of those bouts of cruel justice the world brings down on us, Guelph got two decently-stocked knitting stores after I left. Well, one is technically a quilting store, Greenwood Quiltery. But it doesn't just sell lovely Kaffe Fasset and Amy Butler fabrics now, but also Fleece Artist, Mission Falls, and Blue Sky in a back room. Between the fabric and the yarn they got a hefty chunk of my paycheque last year. Actually, the quilt you can see Oliver (whom I miss terribly) lying on in this picture was made with fabrics largely purchased from there, and the fuzzy green sweater yarn was bought there too. That sweater hasn't been completely abandoned yet, and I finally slogged through rest of the body and worked a bit on the sleeve. I want an excuse to start something new, so I'm going to hunker down with it and some of my favourite childhood movies for a terrifying nostalgia trip cum knitting bee.

You know what? Writing about Greenwood has reminded me how much I want to work on my sewing skills this summer. Clothes cost a lot for a crap product I rarely like, so why not learn how to make my own? They can't suck any more than what's at Old Navy this season. And I can include wee hedgehogs! The other knitting store is rather new, and I do believe it's called the Stitch Niche. It has a small but well-edited selection of yarns. My Dad also taught the store's owner, but then again it sometimes seems like he's taught half of Guelph. They're always glad to see him, and yet he's still convinced that he's a bad teacher. Whatever. He went with me on my mini yarn crawl the other day, and witnessed me having inner strength. I passed through Greenwood easily, but finally gave in at the Stitch Niche, and bought some Debbie Bliss Aran Tweed in a pretty teal colour to make a replacement for the Glaistig I lost last semester. That one was made in a pink tweed, and I hope a less-delicate teal will have better juju behind it and stay in my possession.

Back in Guelph

After a last-minute packing extravaganza, and an exhausting car ride, I finally made it back to Guelph yesterday. My Dad came and visited me in Montreal for a day before we left, and even though it was a touch water-logged, we had a good time. I showed him around St. Catherine's, including a detour in Ogilvy's, and then we walked to St. Laurent where we had tasty Portuguese rotisserie chicken at Coco Rico's. I love their sandwiches, just chicken and spiced sauce on a chewy Portuguese bun, and the chicken fat just drips off the back as you eat it. Hardly health food, but oh so delicious. I showed him Les Chocolats de Chloe too, a tiny chocolate store nestled behind a cobalt blue front on Roy. You can see them make the chocolates in the back, and the entire store smells good enough to eat, and looks it too- they use adorable line drawings and wonky set fonts for all their signs. The honey chocolates are particular favorites, followed closely by the almond paste-filled ones. I even converted my Dad to the Fleuvog way- he now has a very un-Dadlike pair of two-tone, buckled shoes. My Mom is convinced he's going through a mid-life crisis, as he was recently spotted wearing denim.

Frankly, I'm still too tired to realize that I'm now back in Guelph for another four months, but I'm sure homesickness for Montreal, and Montreal food, and even the particular rudeness of Montreal transit employees, will set in soon.

Edit: Choco store is on Roy and not Rachel. I apologize for my idiocy.