A final note on this year’s Christmas card

January 13, 2010

...at the most inopportune time of the year, my pencil crayons and I had a major falling out...

Here’s the final version of this year’s Christmas card (minus the caption and border). The printer tech was a little weirded out and made me explain three times how I wanted the copies trimmed. “It’s a what now?” He kept asking. I took his confusion as a compliment. After all, the surest sign you’re doing anything new is the complete bewilderment of bystanders – like the time I carved “MERRY CHRISTMAS” into my grandparents’ Halloween pumpkin.

Note: …because when you symbolically embrace technological card making, one’s pinky must remain as ladylike as possible~wink.


Merry Christmas! (and the mystery is solved)

December 24, 2009

Here’s what I was up to on the office carpet the other day…

Merry Christmas to all my dear readers! It’s a true pleasure writing for you and I hope to see you all in the new year. Have a wonderful holiday season with lots of Family, Food and Festiveness!

Note: You’ll notice I’m wearing a different hat in the photo above… a long and complicated story. But what’s important is that the Christmas cards I sent out (featuring a composite of two of the most successfully angled images) turned out to be a great solution to this year’s dilemma: “how to rebel against my tradition of making handmade cards by making a handmade card” – gotta love technology! 

Chillin’ on the carpet at work – don’t ask

December 17, 2009

Sometimes we find ourselves doing strange things in strange places for the people we love... yesterday morning was one of those times.

What was I up to? You’ll find out soon! Hint: It took three dozen tries to get the right angle (this one was a major miss) 

The greatest loophole in gastronomical history

November 19, 2009

This morning’s chocolate craving was fierce, unrelenting, and entirely unexpected. I’m usually the one pining for her own Ikea desktop salt-lick. But the holidays are coming, and my palate is way ahead of the Bay’s Christmas window dressers. How can I concentrate with sleigh-bells ringing in my ears and thoughts of chocolate advent calendars – dose-a-day methadone clinics for chocolate addled brains – getting in the way? No chestnuts though, roasted or otherwise. I’m allergic to tree nuts. Therein lies the problem.

What sick, discriminatory urge drove the first person to mix nuts with chocolate, business with pleasure? What a waste. What a tease. Like this morning… when, just as my craving was peaking, I discovered two boxes of chocolates on our office kitchen counter. Oh sweet relief? One was chocolate covered almonds; the other was the biggest tease of all: Turtles. Ever since that one magical Christmas long ago, when I found a stash of Peanut-Turtles hidden on the bottom shelf of a Shoppers Drug Mart in Ottawa, every ‘pecan’ box has been its own disappointment.

I didn’t panic. I just did the one thing I’ve been tempted to do ever since I can remember:  The Loophole. Yes, I nibbled, ever so delicately, around the nuts. In theory, brilliant… In practice? I’m still alive, aren’t I (touch wood). What’s a little lip tingle in the grand scheme of things? People pay thousands for Angelina Jolie’s pucker. My genetics are primed to give me one for free. Nothing like the tiniest hint of anaphylactic action to sweeten a Thursday morning.

Somewhere out there a Vogue editor is crying…

October 14, 2009

I woke up to winter in Calgary today. Sure, there were heaps of snow on the ground yesterday, and the bow river was slate grey and seething, but there was still something missing. The season change became official at 7am this morning, when Mother Nature overheard me trying to describe my outfit over the phone:

“Um, ok, so picture me as a Christmas elf at the mall, but all they could find for me was some old man’s wrinkled elf costume from who knows when. Oh, and my lumberjack socks are pulled up over my pants, almost to my knees.”

I’d like to say I went straight back to my room to change, but I didn’t. I tied on my damp sneakers (boots are for sissies, not real Canadians) and trudged out into the wilderness. When the weather works its way this deep into your bones, this early, there’s not a whole lot you can do. Except maybe, and I suppose I’m right on time here, channel it for Halloween?