Monthly Archives: August 2008

I’m it


This is my kitchen. It’s where I sit now, writing this and thinking about myself and my weird habits thanks to Kat – who seems to like a lot of the same things I do (for example: eclairs, bright colours and lists).

You see, Kat tagged me. This is the first time I’ve been tagged and I immediately told Ash and Sarah who pretended to be REALLY excited for me even though I don’t think they really knew what it meant. So, for those who are unaware, it means this:

I list six unspectacular quirks about myself and then pass the love onto 6 bloggers I adore.

So, here is me. Six pieces of me glimpsed through a keyhole (as someone I like very much once said).

Uno – I really like grocery shopping. Especially at Whole Foods or a real farmer market. And I am really selfish about the whole experience. I always make Ash push the cart (sometimes with me on it) or hold Whiskey on her leash (which is a miserable job at a busy outdoor farmer market because she gets kind of freaky).

Dos – I am not sure why, but when I have to sneeze, instead of turning away or covering my nose, I instinctively bury my face in Ash’s shoulder. I like it there. Him, not so much. He says it’s really gross, but I think he secretly feels special when I do it. Once, we were in Athens in line at Starbucks and I turned to sneeze on him, except he had gone to the bathroom and I sneezed on the shoulder of some strange man. I think he secretly liked it too.

Tres – Whenever I think about the fact that one day Whiskey will die, I get all choked up. I can’t imagine life without her.

Cuatro – I am the worst phone person in the world. The more I want to call someone, the more I get all frozen up inside with guilt and nerves and proscrasintating behaviours. It’s something I hate most about myself and most distressing on my friendships.

Cinco – My best friend Jaimie taught me to count to 10 in Spanish when we were tree planting (something she did much better and longer than I did) and I still do it all the time in my head.

Seis – I am most happy when reading a good book, writing in my journal, playing with my nephew and getting my hair played with by Ash.

I have to think about who to spread the love to. I will return this afternoon with my final list.




Champagne Cocktail

via Anything Goes

Seems like an indulgent moment to rip a stem of roses out of a vase and clench down. In my wanderings, I’ve had a few moments like that. I thought it’d be a fine way to start the week, too, since I don’t have a whole lot else to say this morning. Indulgence is good. Like lying in bed with fresh mint tea. Or buying organics when you normally don’t. Or making a big announcement in front of friends and feeling their happiness soar toward you. I’ve witnessed a few wonderful examples of that kind of indulgence lately. It always makes me happy.

Ash and I crafted our brains out yesterday and only completed half of our invites. That said, they’re a delectable half. Much like a champagne cocktail. Here, take a look:

poster tubesInvitation posterfrench vintage invitations

To celebrate, we indulged ourselves with an hour, fireside, at Yew. We’d just spent three hours registering. Turned out to be much harder than one would think. Collapsing like Olympic athletes into leather chairs, we split the Cuban Sandwich, had a beer, congratulated ourselves on progress and only felt half-bad the waiter recognized us.

Hello lover…

Patrick Dempsey

No, not you, Patrick.

While this seems like something I’d normally be opposed to in all sorts of ways, the shivers that ran down my spine are hard to ignore. I mean, if I ever actually published a novel and someone scanned every laboured-over page and put it online, wouldn’t I be a little venomous?

That said, I know there’s nothing that compares with holding a book. And I know there’s nothing that compares with flipping through a magazine, especially on an airplane. So, by all sorts of unreasonable deductions, I think this is o.k.

It doesn’t make me want to get on the phone immediately and cancel all my current subscriptions. If anything, it just widens my reading horizons (because, of course, I only plan on reading Harvard Business Review and The Walrus, not Glamour and Wish. Yeah right.)

Here, you decide: and let me know if my moral compass has gone all wonky.

(New love found via this lovely lady from Norway).

Under 100 (Wendy Syndrome)


Something about having less than 100 days until Ash and I get married is making me a bit of a Weepy Wendy (sorry, Wendys!). For instance, when I saw this picture of my beautiful sister (and Maid of Honour) and my handsome brother-in-law from their wedding in Naramata. I know what you are thinking, how can you beat that? The sun was shning, a long table was set under a vine draped veranda, the smell of grapes, wine, amazing cheeses and love were in the air. It was so….them. And that’s what Ash and I are trying to do with our wedding. Create a moment, a night, that says something about the life we are madly, amazingly, clumsily stitching together. I have no idea how it will all unravel. Some days I want to throw up (in the good way, honey). Some days I mutter why oh why couldn’t we just do Vegas like I wanted? Most days, I just sit here (yes, at work) hoping nobody notices that I’ve turned into a neurotic version of myself, now named Wendy, who is obsessed with the finding the perfect mix of songs to express us.

I thought I was passed mixtapes?



David. Sunday morning. I am still in my pajamas and only half-awake when I hear your mom’s knock at our door. And there you are, too. In your green shirt and boy shorts. Your first tan. Your hair all raised up like a monster’s into golden spikes of sunblock. Today, you’ve come to show me how you’ve learned to say “auntie.” And when you smile at me this morning, as I jump over the balcony to scoop you out of your stroller, you seem so full of recognition that I’m stung by a million bumble bees of love for you. I pour your mom a cup of coffee and we watch your little tick-tock of a walk around the patio. You move like an impatient clock with a fluttering beat of a heart. Time moves with you, with every airplane and crow that your eyes and ears have learned to catch. Later, you ask for ice and grab big rocks of it to dissolve over your bright, red gums. All those teeth at one-year old! New words every day now. If I don’t see you for three days, the next time you’re a whole new little boy. Watching you grow is such a miracle. I had to write it down.

Photo from Lovely Design.

the unveiling


Our wedding invites are almost ready to be posted in the mail! What a Goldilocks-esque struggle it can be if you’re set on finding the just-right invitation of your matrimonial dreams. I have loved, hated, felt numb, dumb and now once again love what we’ve come up with. Heavily inspired by the work of Etsy-success unlesssomeonelikeyou, we decided to embrace the romance of our gallery setting and had our invites printed on 11 x 17 matte stock. The digital file (and chandelier of my dreams) was purchased for $30 from Mary of paperandink who really did a fabulous job. Then we got the final proof printed (for a smash-up deal at $1 per piece) by a supplier of Ash’s. Now, all that’s left to do is find the holy grail of poster tubes, some vintage labels and blackand white ribbon. Oh, and get married, of course.