P.S. My student volunteer convinced me to leave the old industrial paper towel dispenser by the door for the garbage. He made some crack about me being on Hoarders as a senior and listening to me justify why I thought it would be a good idea to salvage it. I am feeling like I betrayed my vintage heart by tossing it. Still, he has a point. I'd be looking for the right size cheap grade paper towel that fits it for the rest of my life.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
"Whoo Whoo" Do You Love?
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Jumbo Good Time
We woke up to a short-lived winter wonderland this morning. Trudging up Coxwell, icy snow pelted our cheeks until we made it to St. Luke's Holly Berry Bazaar. It's always a well-organized sale run by friendly people. I wasn't tripping over treasures from yesteryear, but we still had a jumbo good time (see below).
Well-loved Snakes and Ladders for my class: fifty cents!
It does have an old-fashioned charm to it.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
On Flossing
Well, I went to the dentist this evening and judging from the amount of time I sat in the chair having plaque jack-hammered off my pearly whites, I'm not doing something right - but what could it be? I'm not a sugar fiend, I use toothpaste and my electric toothbrush twice a day and still, there I was...
After the cleaning, I had to go back into the reception area while I waited to see the dentist for a full examination. "It's like a physical from the doctor, except it's for your teeth," said the hygienist, who was not doubt nursing aching digits after spending close to an hour scraping off my barnacles. She looked up from my file and earnestly told me that it's imperative to floss every night and rinse with warm, salty water too. Ohhh, flossing. That's what I haven't been doing.
I told her that I often go to bed after midnight and that I'm either too tired, delirious, or indifferent about the welfare of my teeth when it's that late. "Why don't you floss earlier in the evening?" she suggested. "You could do it in front of the TV when you're watching your favourite show." Laughter ensued as I imagined my husband and son sitting under an umbrella while itty bits of lamb and mango (or whatever I just ate for dinner) went flying all over the room, no doubt hitting the screen while Mike Roe was working on another dirty job. The hygienist got a little uppity when I pointed out the ramifications of this activity: divorce, parent abandonment, etc. "That might not be so hygienic," she conceded.
After calling me in, the dentist (whom I really respect, by the way), began giving my head a good old pat down. He began massaging my lower jaw, asking if it hurt. Hurt? Keep going! Don't stop!! My sinuses never felt better. I had to grind to the left, grind to the right, make my lower jaw extend beyond my upper jaw, and all kinds of other weird dental rituals, which his assistant studiously made note of.
The doctor mysteriously disappeared and I was escorted into an area that looked like an open closet. I moved into a chamber of dental sorcery and told to balance my chin on this little plinth while leaning forward on the balls of my feet and holding handles that I couldn't actually see. The assistant pressed a button and a camera began spinning around my head. I kept thinking of Eleanore Roosevelt so I wouldn't laugh. I had to stay still, but I kept thinking that any minute, Dr. No was going to walk in front of me shooting a laser gun at my kneecaps.
I went back to the dental chair and watched yet more repeats of the day's headlines on CP24. The good doctor came back and instantly put the ginormously enlarged photographs of my teeth on the TV screen. I recoiled. Change the channel! Change the channel! I'll watch anything: Dr. Oz, Reba, According to Jim... Alas, no luck. He thought I'd be interested in an OMNI MAX history of every filling I've ever had. Oh.
He then began analyzing each and every tooth with that mean little pick and then took another mean little pick and began the long and laboured process of measuring the gaps between my gums and teeth. As he morosely called out numbers, I quickly figured out that the lower the number, the better. It sounded like he was calling out primitive BINGO numbers in Finnish: 3, 4, 4, 3, 3, 2... Yes, I had a few twos. As for my fours, you'd think I was nursing small marsupials in these gummy pockets. "A four is very large, but you had some fives last time," he informed me. I told myself that if my gums were pants, I've gone from maternity pants, to a nice relaxed fit. My dentist expects me to be in skinny gum jeans next time. Sure. That's going to happen. I asked him if anyone has gums that measure as one. "Oh yes," he said as if I asked him if he filed his tax return last year. "It's very rare, but some people do have ones." I asked him what that means. "Their gums are tight. Really tight." My mind naturally shifted to George Hamilton visiting a gum tightener in Miami. This can't be real.
I'm going to go to bed now. It's late and I must floss and gargle with salty brine.
Erin
Monday, November 22, 2010
Looking For...
The ladies' binoculars I found at the Legion bazaar on the weekend got me thinking about those elusive things on my list of things I'm looking for. Here they are...
#1 Blogs about mysterious places in Australia and New Zealand. I'm not so interested in strange places so much, but rather haunting or beautiful spots that are off the beaten path. Does anyone know of any?
#2 Nick Drake's Five Leaves Left album - on CD. My sister has always been surprised that I haven't had the Nick Drake breakthrough. I suspect that I've put it off so that I could access his music at a time when nothing else was moving me. I used his song "Day is Done" as a soundtrack to my most recent post on Five Ways to Disappear. It's the perfect soundtrack to a late-fall stroll around a crumbling cemetery in Toronto - or anywhere.
#3 Ring watch. I'd settle for a pendant watch.
#4 Time and resources to make homemade soap. I bought a bar of honey lavender soap at the Royal Winter Fair. I can't tell you how happy it makes me. Every morning, I open the medicine cabinet and poof! - the smell of French fields washes over me and makes me forget the morning routine just for a moment.
#5 Lunch in a London pub with James May and Kirstie Allsopp. You may not know of these two English television show hosts. James May is on Top Gear, but he's got a very cool toy show they've been broadcasting in Canada lately. He's droll in that classic absurdist English way. I love that he's always totally disheveled and yet, they let him come up with madcap show ideas and he pulls it off. Check out his Lego house. Kate from Love You Big would LOVE it. He got scores of kids to snap millions of pieces together.
I've blogged about Kirstie Allsopp before. She's the host of Relocation, Relocation, Relocation and Kirstie's Homemade Home. For someone who seems like she comes from money, she's very down to earth. I also like the fact that she's not a size 2 and that she's got a funky fashion sense and isn't afraid to wear skirts and floppy blouses. I also like the banter between her and Phil on the real estate show. I wonder how she'd get on with James May?
#6 A copy of Maurice Gee's Going West. He's a Kiwi. Is there a theme going on here? I think it was on the Love You Big blog that I first saw this brilliant short film. Sadly, the book appears to be out of print. I'd love to read it.
Well, I'll stop here. Maybe I'll add some other elusive things on another post.
Erin:)
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Digital Dummies
Basically, the idea is that technology, especially BlackBerries and I-Phones are dumbing down society because they're preventing us from focussing on anything for more than a few seconds. I try to embrace technology when it's useful. I like to write and read blogs, I use email... so I'm hope I'm not a hypocrite when I say that I think the documentarian has a point.
Yesterday, I took my son uptown to get some classroom posters laminated. I had phoned earlier in the day. The man at FedEx sounded like he was multitasking. He told me they could laminate on the spot. When I got there, he told me that the laminating machine had to warm up and to come back in half an hour. I happily agreed. When we came back, he told me that his test run left bubbles on the paper. I told him I didn't mind a few bubbles. Then he told me that they'd run out of the laminating plastic and that they'd have to send them out. Long story short - I have to return mid-week to pick them up.
Fast forward to our trip home. We were walking through a very crowded Eglinton subway station. Duncan was running ahead of me. I notice a woman texting behind him. She's oblivious to everything. He stops on a dime. She smashed into him. Three other people were fiddling around with their gadgets and bumped into us before we made it to the subway platform.
At a birthday party for one of my son's friends last spring, a mother sat in the living room with other parents and spent the entire time checking her messages or updating her FaceBook status or whatever. It was incredibly rude. I gave up the notion of trying to start a conversation...
This morning, I was reading the NY Times Book Review. (It's been coming free with the Sunday Star). I began reading a review of Ivana Lowell's incredible life. I'd never even heard of her before, but I couldn't stop reading. She was born into English aristo-dom and her beautiful mother (see the above picture) was a complete disaster as a mother. Poor Ivana received burns to over 70% of her body when a hot kettle of water fell on her as a girl.
The review got me thinking about the time I worked at a book store. People would come in for their papers and I'd see them in the coffee shop across the street, nursing a cup of tea and generally lost in news and feature stories. I know people still read and buy books. I just think that everything in society has sped up so much that we're losing the plot, so to speak. I hear upper-grade teachers at my school talking about the fact that it seems natural for students to Wiki information and copy and paste references without considering the source.
I want to slow down. Whatever we're obsessively texting as we come out of train tunnels - is it that important? Am I just being an old crank? I don't know. I just feel like a little balance is needed before everything we read is reduced to the amount of characters allowed in a Tweet.
What do you think?
Here's the preview clip.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Big Red
I seemed to set off a small tsunami of Big Red humming on The Pyrex Collective. Of course, I had to investigate. Warning: earworm material to follow...
* I realized this original post was waaaay toooooo looooong. So I'm just leaving one jingle for your pleasure.
Erin
Saturday Vintage Booty
After a dry spell of thrifting due to progress reports, parent interviews, and a general lack of fun things at my local thrift stores, I'm happy to say I'm back in action thanks to the two sales I went to today. Come along now...
Alright, I promise you, I'm not making this next part up. Duncan was over at the toy table and I begin perusing the jewelry table. This in itself is unusual since I like jewelry but tend not to wear a lot of it. Just then I hear the opening of Pat Benatar's "We Belong." I've uploaded it for your pleasure. It's a sweet song, complete with an angelic childrens' choir.
I'm humming along in my head and I look down at the table only to spy one of the vintage things I've always wanted - collapsable binoculars from the sixties!!!!
The make is Emson and yes - we belong together.
I also found this working Gemstone watch for $1.00.
Mug shot profile.
I found gauze, little scissors...
tiny bottles of iodine...
And old boxes of bandages...
that still looked pretty clean on the inside.
"H-ee'ee Mrs. C." "Oh Arthur. Sit on it!"
The Fonze is cool. Don't forget it.
Hope you enjoyed my finds as much as I do. What did you get today?
Erin