Cats

Our beloved Spook 2003-2012

Last week, our cat named Spook suddenly became severely ill. He had been coughing for a few weeks, but we thought it was just a fur ball/digestion issue. X-rays confirmed that he had three tumours that were inoperable, so it was with great sadness that it was decided that the most humane thing to do would be to have him put down. It still breaks my heart looking at his picture and thinking about our final moments with him. We were all in tears. If you have ever lost a pet, you'll know what I'm talking about. Spook loved nothing more than sitting on your lap, nuzzling, and having his tummy rubbed. He was always at the door to greet us and just seemed like a happy cat. 

Spook was adopted from our local animal hospital nine years ago when he was a few months old. He was found on Gerrard Street at a busy intersection in Toronto and for some reason, never got adopted when he was a little kitten. As he kept getting passed over, he got bigger and less desirable for people wanting to adopt a cute tiny kitten. When I brought our other cat Kiko in to be neutered, I saw Spook sitting in a cage on the receptionist's desk. I asked why he was there and she told me the story. They were hoping that the increased visibility would make someone want him. Later that day, I brought him home on a cold, December day. 

After a week of warring, Kiko and Spook worked things out and became best buddies. In the past week, Kiko has looked a little lost around our house.


We knew that we'd never replace our wonderful purring lap cat, but we decided to go to Toronto Animal Services to look at the cats up for adoption. We went back for a second visit yesterday and adopted a small, two-year-old grey tabby that our son Duncan named Lily. She's still shy and getting to know the house, so I haven't been able to take a picture of her yet. Kiko's mellowing in his older year and has only hissed at her a few times. I think they'll be chums. On our way home, I joked that Kiko will have a younger foxy girlfriend to keep him youthful. We'll never forget Spook, but having his new little spitfire in the home has helped fill the void with happiness. 

More to come. 

Homemade Home

Two Christmases ago, I ordered Kirstie's Homemade Home for my sister Lise. Kirstie is Kirstie Allsopp, famed English television host, author and entrepreneur. We seem to get British TV shows long after the fact in Canada, so it's no surprise that you can turn on BBC Canada just about any time of the day and see one of Kirstie's shows when Top Gear isn't on. Homemade Home ran as a televised series before the book came out. If you'd like to find out more about Ms. Allsopp, click here for her website. You can tell her home smells good just by looking at her.  

 Lise offered to lend me the book, but I told myself I'd buy it one day. Well, when I discovered it at the local library, I cheaped out and checked it out instead. The book is all about encouraging people to get their hands dirty and learn how to make beautiful things for the home. I like the projects and Kirstie's not pompous like other do-it-yourself TV personalities - alright, I'm just thinking of one person right now. Kirstie's also loves to pay respect to England's craft traditions, such as its history in willow basket making, blacksmithing, etc. 

Above, Kirstie makes her very own fire poker in an olde timey blacksmith shop.  

 I'm inspired to learn mosaic after watching Kirstie make her own little table. In the centre of the heart is a piece of old pottery from the area she lives in. I'm hoping to take a mosaic course in the fall. Find out if there are courses where you live. 

 A master mosaic maker created this wall outside a door in England. I can't imagine how many hours went into making this. 

 Here's a multi-toned willow basket that Kirstie made with two of the very few remaining traditional willow weavers in the U.K. 

 Here's the rustic gate to Kirstie's rambling country family home. I love how the letter A has slipped down. It reminds me of Fawlty Towers. 

 Here's one project I completed already: a potted herb garden. My herbs were getting lost in the tomato plants, so I put a few together in an old tin tub that was rusting away in the driveway. 

Here's the "arial" shot. I'm growing parsley (from my dad), two types of basil, dill, and chives. The pot has filled out nicely since I took the picture and it's great being able to nip out to the porch for fresh herbs. 

Recipes That Really Cut the Mustard

I just noticed mustard making recipes on the Design Sponge blog. I think I'll try to have a go this weekend.

Release the Hounds!

I bought this delightful horse and hound dish at the not-so-great Value Village on Danforth yesterday for $4.99. It didn't come with a lid and I don't know who made it. Any ideas?

P.S. Thanks for all the comments on my recent posts. I'm soaking in the love. 

Treasures From Kingsley

 A couple years ago, a wonderful man who lived across the street from us suddenly passed away. His name was Kingsley. I've written about him in previous posts, so forgive me if you've heard this before. Anyway, Kingsley was a retired psychologist/academic who was a refined gentleman and general good egg. He was clearly living a leisurely life as a retired person. When I used to work at home as a freelance writer, I used to get a chuckle when I'd see Kingsley going to his front door in his y-front underpants to pick up the morning paper. This would usually be around 10 in the morning. I just loved his "I don't feel the need to be productive" ethic. A couple of Saturdays ago, his family - who have maintained his estate - held a yard sale. Duncan and I were the first ones across. I was looking for anything old and special that would remind me of Kingsley. 

 As you'll see from the above two photos, Kingsley got into the spirit of Canada's centennial in 1967. I loved this cup and the fact that it was made in Cork, Ireland. I think it cost me .75 or some small sum. 

 Above and below are pictures of vintage tins I bought for $1.50. I loved that the two big tins were still being used for baking up until fairly recently. 

At the end of the sale, they dragged out the items that hadn't sold - including one of those contraptions that you hang upside-down in to straighten out your back - with a "free items" sign in front of them. Duncan kept crossing the street to see if he could find anything else for us, even though I'd told him we had the good stuff. He did manage to find a sixties transistor radio, which is pretty cool. 
That's all for now. More to come sooner rather than later.  

Punishable By ...

"Dude, where's your manners?"

A few minutes ago, I thought I'd nip out to water the plants on my porch and enjoy the pleasant breeze and late day sun. Just as I picked up the watering can I heard the unmistakable sound of nail clippers in action. Clip, clip, CLIP! I glanced over two houses down to confirm my horror. Yes, one of the dudes who lives there was sitting out on the porch happily cutting his fingernails completely oblivious to social norms and me - his nice neighbour who takes care of personal hygiene in the bathroom like regular folk. With a nauseous feeling stirring in my stomach, I put down the watering can and ran over to the garden hose. I ran down the driveway and with the water turned up to Olympic levels and began soaking the tomato plants in the backyard. 


After a good five minutes, I returned to the front of the house only to see and hear the porch troll cutting his toenails - this time in the company of his roommate who wasn't about to let his friend's grooming get in the way of their conversation. 


I believe that anyone caught clipping in public should be sent away to Plum Island and forced to read everything written by Miss Manners. Entry back into civilization will only be granted when the offending person writes a 2,000 word essay on the importance of grooming in private spaces. They must also pass a test on the subject and promise to never cut finger or toenails ever again in public. 


Thank you,
I feel better now.