Mickey Mouse 101

I'm taking a college course: "Introduction to Libraries". I'm taking it to see if I might want to take further courses in the same subject. In case I decide one day that I want to, you know, work in a library, in a professional capacity. (Hey, you never know!)

All I can say is, college is very different from grad school. The most remarkable thing so far about this course is that, every night so far, I've made it to class on time.

Considerate enough not to wake me up, too

After a busy and tiring weekend, McPie had some insomnia last night. This morning's email:

"I am going to get a third coffee, black, and pour it directly into my eyes."

Cuteness amid the chaos

The wedding we attended on Valentine's Day was a casual affair. so casual, in fact, that the bride and groom arrived twenty minutes late, relatives and children in tow. Since the six of us made up less than half of the entire party, it felt a bit touch and go for a few minutes there.

The ceremony was lovely, en français, with a lovely interlude of native singing and drumming. (The groom and his family hail from an aboriginal settlement in northern Quebec and I am a bad person because I don't remember the name of the band they belong to.)

I'm not sure this was the best idea in the world but the "reception" part of the event was held as a cozy little local French restaurant. There were ten adults, five children, and an infant. At least one of the children (not one of ours, I'm happy to say) did not possess table manners of any sort. and, of course, McPie and I, as most distant "relatives" to the happy couple, had been relegated to the "kids" end of the table.

Now, McPie and I both exhibit strong traits of what is known in the DSM-IV as social anxiety disorder. Mannerless children, crying babies, and operating outside of our mother tongue (yes, I was unable to scold Mannerless because English was not an option) surrounded by couples trying vainly to enjoy romantic moments because it's VALENTINE'S DAY AT A COZY FRENCH RESTAURANT... well, it all left both of us a quivering mass of nerves. We were pretty much under the table by dessert.

We skipped the tertiary portion of the agenda (strolling through the ice sculptures downtown at 9 PM on a freezing Thursday night) and took the kids home. And took turn gulping wine straight from the bottle.

I did manage to score a few moment of supreme cuteness during the evening. Here is the wee Manu, having his way with McPie:

And so it begins

We have finally begun some reno work on our kitchen that we've been talking about for... a long time. It's fairly minor -- replacing and slightly re-designing our countertop -- but a bigger deal than you'd think because we're doing it ourselves. Rather, McPie is doing it, and I'm keeping him in beer, and clapping him on the back whenever he figures our a particularly tricky plumbing/carpentry problem.

I'm pretty excited about this. I can't believe we're actually doing it (it's the first step of several planned for the kitchen.) Mostly, I can't believe that McPie actually knows HOW to do this. I'm so excited, I wanted to share the progress with you.

First, a little "before" action. I didn't actually take a before shot, so I had to hunt around for this one. It's a school day morning, apparently around Christmas time (don't worry - the sparkly garland is not my idea of haute interior design, and it did not go up again this year). I had to cut myself out because now that I'm of a certain age, nobody but my family needs to witness my bedhead. And even they still laugh. And point.



You can't really see, but besides the kiddie-sized counter edge, the counter top is also of a deee-lightful pinkish ceramic tile. Like the kind you would use in your bathroom. The oak around the edges is a little higher than the counter, so you can't slide crumbs off the edge into your washcloth. (Can you say "pet peeve"?) Here is a close-up, with a chip of the formica we're replacing it with. You can't tell, but the formica has a nice texture to it...



To get started, we tore out a tall cabinet that blocked the light and view from the dining room. You can see the non-painted area where it hulked. And -- oh wait, is that... OH MY GOD it's flesh-eating dust bunnies!

(We killed them off, don't worry. McPie is building a counter-height cabinet for that spot, and this will be extra counter space.)



While McPie was reconstructing a smaller cabinet, I got to work tearing off the wooden trim, after which job I was to begin prying the tiles off the counter. Theoretically. In practice, not so much. These babies were not pry-able.



So, we have to remove the counter. We started with the "wings". McPie is cutting it up for disposal.



The rest of the counter will be more complicated to remove. We'll do that once we have the new counter built. So, in the meantime, we'll construct a new counter shape from plywood. Eventually, McPie will cover the plywood with the formica. This is a process that he says is very "fun". We'll see. Also, Findley has been helping.



See, it's beginning to take shape. In this shot, the sink has been temporarily removed for the sake of fitting. (I haven't even mentioned the awesome plumbing job that McPie did - replacing the "Quebec construction" under the kitchen sink so that the sink could be removed as necessary, and replaced easily.) McPie will cut a hole in the middle there when the time comes to actually install the counter.



We had to pause here for a Family Day dinner with the kids and Moms. (Lucy Waverman is my newest hero. Get this cookbook. And clip all her recipes from the Globe and Mail. She has given me a new appreciation -- ok, let's face it, an appreciation... I never had one before -- for brussel sprouts.)

So, we have our work cut our for us. Getting started has ignited our enthusiasm. While in Reno Depot picking up the plywood, we found some maple flooring that we got excited about... Finally, it may only be a matter of time before that turquoise vinyl goes the way of the dodo.

dashboard warning

In true tech writer fashion, I am repurposing content today.

Received in an email, this observation from G:

"When my dashboard warning light 'Check Gages' lights up, I am not really alarmed about what I might be running low on; my gut reaction is to be alarmed about the English language."

Keepin' it real

Ben also eschews the store-bought love.

The perfect excuse

Every year, we avoid the Valentiny-ness of Valentine's day. I would guess that this avoidance is a growing trend -- most people I know try to cut through the commercial crap of February 14.

This year, we have a great excuse to overtly celebrate romantic love on Valentine's Day: we're going to a wedding!

Better yet - an intimate family affair: just us, the kids, their moms, the happy couple*, and their three kids. We're meeting at the Gatineau City Hall tomorrow afternoon.

Given that we're also going to a nice restaurant for dinner -- yes, with all the kids, and yes, on the busiest restaurant occasion of the year -- it should be quite the adventure. But still, I can't think of a better, or more appropriate way, to celebrate the day of love.


*The bride is my, er... sister-in-law. Well, McPie's ex-sister-in-law. But our actual relationship adds up to "sister-in-law" so I'll go with that. :-)

Taste tested

Last week at work, I went to the kitchen to retrieve my yogurt from the fridge. I stopped to grab a plastic spoon from the drawer -- my company provides disposable forks, spoons, and knives in each kitchen for the convenience of employees. (I have knives from home at my desk -- for cutting sandwiches and cheese of course! -- but awhile ago I lost my spoon, so I tend to grab a disposable when I need one, and use it for a few days.)

I noticed that the plastic spoons in the drawer were different than usual; they had a slightly different texture, colour and shape. Back at my desk eating my yogurt, I noticed the following text on the handle of the spoon, in slightly raised letters: Biocompostable www.worldcentric.org

Obviously, I immediately opened the web site in my browser to find out more about the provenance of my spoon.

Turns out, my spoon is made from 100% non-GMO corn starch. It is compostable and biodegradable. (Those are not synonymous.) Wow. Who knew there was such a thing? My reaction was predictable.

I took a bite of my spoon.

It was... very chewy. But, it didn't taste like plastic. It didn't really taste like anything. (Ultimately, I chose to spit, not swallow.) The smell was decidedly starchy; again, definitely not plasticky.

My first thought was "cool! A product that solves the problem of all the waste of disposables! And my company is thoughtful enough to support it." I thought it surprising that the facilities dept hadn't even announced such a neat-o move.

But my next thought was that it was kinda... strange? ironic? that the solution to the problem of waste from disposables was to create another disposable product.

I brought a metal spoon from home the next day, to keep in my drawer.

* * * * *

Admittedly, the worldcentric.org site is pretty swell, and provides fair trade and less-environmentally-impactful consumer goods (since we gotta have our consumables!), and it provides many resources for supporting a general public re-think of consuming. Furthermore, they do note the following on their main biocompostables page:

We like to point out that, though using biocompostables is a step towards better environmental sustainability, it is not a solution to our throw-away culture. The use of biocompostables disposables does not in any way discourage use or change the mind-set of using disposable products. Furthermore, even biocompostables (specially bioplastics) may take a long time to biodegrade in landfills.

Spread the word

If you happen to know anyone who might be interested, here is a tidbit to pass along:

My mother and sister have officially listed The Farmhouse Inn for sale, and here is a place that has all the information.

This is what they're saying about selling the inn:

"When we purchased the Inn in 2005, we had a 5 year plan in mind, and still do. B&B's typically take a few years to sell, so going into our 4th season, we have decided to be proactive. So spread the word, if you know anyone that's looking to live and work in the most beautiful place on earth, meet wonderful people from around the world and be their own boss let them know that the Farmhouse Inn is for sale."

I know there are only a few of you out there reading this (Hi Guys!), but you never know where word of mouth might lead...