Some Thoughts on Losing the World Series

November 5, 202531 Comments

In a world where winning is everything, the Blue Jays lost…..and it was a heartbreaking gut-wrenching loss, when they were so very close to victory. In a do-or-die Game 7 they were leading 5-4 in the 9^th inning, 3 outs away from winning the World Series, then a Dodgers homerun tied the game. On to two innings of nerve-wracking overtime – they had their chances – a few missed opportunities and some sheer bad luck and suddenly it was over with the sound of Kirk’s broken bat, leaving the team and the fans just as shattered after a wild drama filled ride.

Yes, it was great that they got that far. They were the underdogs against the mighty LA Dodgers, and their turbo Japanese pitching machine. The fact that they had even made it to the world series was something to be celebrated. After placing last place in their division last year (74 games) they placed first (94 games, tied with New York), this year, and thus avoided the whole Wild Card spot scenario, which had defeated them in the past. They went on to win against the New York Yankees capturing the ALDS division, then the Seattle Mariners winning the ALCS division, with a combination of grit, grind and pure determination. They were known as the “comeback kids” as they never gave up, often rallying late in the game against the relief pitchers. Or as my friend called them “the cardiac kids” as so many of the games were nail-bitters. (I know my blood pressure was up because I took it).

The Jays this year were a unique and special team. Yes, they had their veteran sluggers like Vladimir Guerrero Jr. and George Springer, but the younger players, some in their first year of MLB, contributed just as many hits as the stars – Davis Schneider, Nathan Lukes, who spent ten years in the minors, and Ernie Clement, with a record of 30 hits in post season, could always be depended on for a base hit or an RBI, with Kirk the catcher at the calm centre of it all. Everyone stepped up, including the 22-year-old rookie pitcher, Trey Yesavage, who had only been called up to the majors from Triple A six weeks earlier. If one player didn’t do well, past the baton to the next guy, get on base, get home, keep the momentum going. The defense, the offense and the pitching were all good. And they were such a likeable cast of characters. My favorite was Ernie Clement, who always had a smile on his face and looked like he was having such fun, but in the locker room after, he was in tears, as were many others. He was sad it was over, and they wouldn’t get another chance tomorrow and it was like losing 40 of his best friends. If you’ve ever had a job that didn’t seem like work, with nice colleagues, good management and great teamwork, (as I had exactly once in my career), you know how rare a combination that is and can relate.

“I think this is a quote from Herb Brooks, but we are a team of uncommon men,” Clement said after the game. “I think a normal team would’ve folded today, and we’re not normal. I think we’re the best team in baseball, and we got out of bed today with our hair on fire and ready to play.”

I watched some of the post game interviews in the locker room and they were very emotional. (Who said there was no crying in baseball.) I felt so bad for them, to have come so close and have their dream snatched away like that. Losing was no one person’s fault – but a lot of what-if’s – what if that ball had gone 6 inches farther and sailed over the fence instead of lodging, what if the runner had slid into home plate instead of running it out, what if Barger hadn’t been so far off the base – you can second guess all you want, but they just couldn’t seem to catch a break. Only 3 of the 40 members had ever played in a world series game, the manager John Schneider ( 24 years) never, and the pitching coach Pete Walker (40 years) never. In his interview after, John Schneider thanked them all, and said he was proud of them and that they had done it the right way.

The Blue Jays are based in Toronto and are the only Canadian team in MLB, (there are 30 teams split between the American League and the National League) so the fan support was phenomenal, with many fans travelling across the country to spend thousands on tickets. The Jays last won the World Series over 30 years ago in 1992 and 93, and I remember the pandemonium in the city as I was there for a conference at the time. And while most of the players are Americans, when they come to Toronto they seem to absorb the culture of the team. You don’t often see that degree of cohesiveness, (as Schneider called it), camaraderie and friendship when players are traded so frequently, and the all-important stats are used as a measure of performance and competition.

There’s always next year, but this team is not likely to repeat itself with so many of the players free-agents now and a contract negotiation/possible lockout looming on the horizon. Unlike the Dodgers with their deep pockets, the Blue Jays will not be able to afford to keep them all. They have some hard decisions to make. I hope we don’t lose Bo Bichette, another long-time favourite, whose playing-with-an-injury home run should have won them the game.

I saw this photo on Facebook the next morning, of the billion dollar Babe Ruths….

….with the caption – congratulations to Japan on winning the world series!

Yes, the LA Dodgers trio of imported pitchers are stellar, but they should be at that price. They Dodgers won last year, and no doubt will next year, as they are locked into long ten year contracts. In a world where money talks, and the biggest payroll usually wins…..is there any sense of fair competition anymore? It must be very discouraging to all the US teams that have much smaller payrolls. Yes, Toronto has the fifth highest payroll, and the Jays signed Vladdy Jr, for 500million, but that was for 14 years, and he’d already played ten years for the Jays, starting in the farm teams at 16, plus he was voted MVP this year for his skill and stats, as well as being the heart and soul of the team.

Maybe the payroll discrepancy is why the sport seems to be declining in popularity. If the odds are that stacked against you why even try to compete. People can’t afford tickets to the home games thus discouraging attendance. Only 11 million Americans saw that Ronald Reagan ad from the Ontario premier in games 1 and 2, so why was Trump in such a snit about it that he cancelled trade talks with Canada – 11 million is peanuts for a country of 350 million, or maybe because it was on Fox news? I watched the games on Sportsnet, with half of the 40 million people Canada tuned in. Maybe the loss cut deeper for the Jays fans, as it would have been one small win for a country that has been bludgeoned to death economically over the past year by tariffs on autos/lumber/steel/aluminum and the taunting threats of becoming the 51^st state.

But it’s not whether you win or lose, it’s how you play the game. Is that old adage even true anymore, where might equals right and a bully mentality seems to be the norm?

So let’s talk about fair play. Is good sportsmanship obsolete or is it all about winning at any cost? There was always a Most Sportsman Like Player trophy awarded when I played, honoring fairness, honesty, and respect for other players, including the opposing team, both on and off the field.

The teams were evenly matched, and it could have gone either way. But I lost track of how many times Blue Jays players (accidentally? you decide) got hit in the batter’s box. Poor George Springer – they pitch inside to himself so often he’s excelled at “springing” out of the way. Yes, you can expect some wild throws, even from the pitchers who usually have deadly aim, but you have to wonder when it happens over and over again to the same key players. The worst was Kirk getting hit on the wrist/hand. It happened twice, in game 6 and the ninth inning of game 7 when the Jays were staging a comeback and things were really tense. Hey, if you want to take out their star catcher, aim for his hands. So, in the 4^th inning when Andres Gimenez got hit, and angrily said, “throw it over the plate” is it any wonder that both dugouts emptied onto the field and a verbal brawl ensued. I’ve never seen that before in baseball, I thought I was watching a hockey game! (In hockey it would have been an actual physical fight) Tensions were running high. The umps got them simmered down, and play proceeded, but it was jarring and I think the Jays were rattled after that. They never really regained their usual momentum. But maybe that was the whole point? Like Ohtani, taking a leisurely dugout break between the first few innings? Make them wait while I warm up…

Let’s talk about those umps and the controversial calls. Yes, it’s hard to be a home plate ump, but a delayed strike call at home plate by the ump disposed of Bo Bichette who was picked off walking to second base because he thought it was ball four (which it clearly was), as the batter who also thought it was a ball, had already started walking to first. The ump eventually called it a strike, but by then everyone seemed confused as they all thought it was a ball. This happened twice, the first time with George Springer. What’s up with the hesitation – if you can’t decide, take some time to think about it? They need to change the rules on that. If they can challenge a bad call on the field with a video replay why can’t they allow that at home plate – maybe up to 4 per game so as not to slow things down too much. Especially when it’s a crucial play.

And how about that dead ball controversy in the ninth inning of Game 6 when a last-minute Jays rally was in progress. Is a lodged/stuck ball really a dead ball if it can be easily pick it up off the ground and played? Was it stuck or just lying on the ground at the base of the wall. (watch the video) It was certainly playable, but the Dodgers outfielder, seizing a golden opportunity to reverse some runs, made no attempt to pick it up. I saw a dead ball in one of the other games, (Tampa Bay Rays in their temporary makeshift diamond) and it was stuck in the corner of the upper wall and hence not playable. That dead ball call cost the Jays two runs in, and a potential game, as both players had to go back to their bases, according to the dead ball rule book and then someone popped out and the inning was over. Yes, the play was reviewed in New York – but can you trust the New York reviewers? How many viewing angles do they have for something like that? Is anyone in management allowed to see the footage after the fact or is that top secret? Those reviewers in New York seem leery of overturning anything. Or how about that close call on the throw to home plate in the ninth inning that looked like the Jays Kiner-Falefa was safe – which would have won them the game. From my angle, it sure looked like the catcher had stepped off the bag. Even the announcer thought the game was over. But on video review – nope – out.

Do I seem bitter? I am. A combination of missed opportunities, bad luck, controversial calls, and the brawl on the field, by the end everyone’s nerves were rattled, including mine. While it was a memorable year, I’m glad it’s over for 4 months – give the guys a a chance to rest and recover from their injuries, and spend some time with their families. ( I’m sure George Springer at 36, was being held together by duct tape and Advil. His wife looked very concerned)

They showed the WAG’s and kids on the field after one of the division wins, and they all look like models of course, but who would want to be married to a major league baseball player? You’re basically signing up to be a single parent. On the road 9 months of the year, and when they are home, there’s the workout routine and the nutrition protocol, and all the night games, and when you get home, pumped with adrenalin, how do you even sleep. You’re certainly not getting your kids ready for school or putting them to bed. I noticed some the Jays relievers had written number 51 on their hats in game 6 in support of Alex Vesia, the Dodgers player who missed the world series because of a family crisis – a small acknowledgement to the opposing team that there are more important things than baseball. What a classy thing to do, but then they are a class act.

During the play-offs there was only day off between cities, a rigorous schedule along with the 3 hour time change. I wonder what they do all day when the game starts at 8pm and goes until midnight and you’re just waiting around for it to start. When do they eat, before or after the games? What do they eat to keep up their stamina? I can’t imagine there is much nutrition in the sunflower seeds they spit out. Game Three went on for an exhausting and record-breaking 18 innings, lasting 6 hrs and 39 minutes, like two games in one. I went to bed at midnight when it was tied, as I had to get up early for a medical test, and it was over close to 3am. And then to get up and do it all over again, the next day. It must be really hard on your body, even if you are in good shape – 162 games in a regular season plus October if you’re lucky enough to get that far. Plus, you’re only ever one critical injury away from ending your career. If you’re lucky you get surgery and a long recovery time. Yes, the money is good, but the careers are often short. And then what do you do with the rest of your life – coach? Any other job might seem boring by comparison?

The oldest member of the team was (Mad) Max Scherzer, at 41, who has pitched in three world series and says he lives for that kind of stuff. The youngest was 22-year-old Trey Yesavage, who did great in his two pitching starts, game 1 and 5. A very poised and confident young man from Pennsylvania, it was nice to see his family, especially his dad, so emotional in the stands at his first game. So your son is in A level in Dunedin in the spring, playing to a crowd of 4000 and now he’s the starter pitcher in the world series with 45,000 people cheering – that’s heady stuff. If I had been the Blue Jays manager, I would have put him in as the relief pitcher in the overtime innings – for such a young kid, he was fearless, grace under pressure. But then the whole team was.

So even though the Jays did not win, the fans are proud of them and will be there when opening day rolls around again March 26. Anything can happen in October baseball, but as one of the announcers said, the baseball gods got it wrong this time. The best team did not win. And I agree, but perhaps I’m biased. But while they may have lost the series, a series no Canadian will ever forget, they won the hearts of the nation.

PS. Readers who are surprised by my enthusiasm for baseball, might enjoy my 2021 blog Take Me Out To the Ball Game where I write about being the worst player ever….

Back to School – 50 Years Later

October 21, 2025October 31, 202535 Comments

Watching the evening news on Labour Day there was a feature about parents dropping their kids off at school – the annual move-into-the dorm weekend. Most of the kids interviewed were excited and nervous about living away from home for the first time. Which reminded me that it has been exactly 50 years since my parents moved me into my first-year residence. I was used to sharing a room with my sister, but our bedroom in the old white farmhouse was so big it took up practically the whole upstairs. What a shock when I saw the dorm room – how was I expected to live in this 6 X 12 space? And mine being at the far end of the hall was one of the larger ones, having an extra alcove and a second window, although the view was hardly scenic facing a row of old houses which bordered the campus. My residence was a relatively new building, and utilitarian in it’s modernness, despite being on the historic downtown campus.

There was a set of bunk beds, a built-in desk with two chairs near the window facing the quad, and a small built-in closet with two sides. The aisle was so narrow you could almost reach across from the bed and touch the closet. I quickly nabbed the bottom bunk by spreading my new orange and yellow quilt over it, as I couldn’t envision climbing down the ladder to go to the washroom in the middle of the night.

My dorm room in second year. Orange was a popular color in the 70’s.

After a teary goodbye my parents left. My poor mother, but she had previous experience with my older siblings moving out and dealt with empty nest syndrome by signing up for art classes and getting a puppy. My dad was stoic as usual – no doubt worried about the drive out of the city as we had gotten lost on a one way street going in. It was the first time I had ever been to Toronto or seen skyscrapers. Toronto was a four-hour drive from my hometown and most of my high school friends went to school closer to home, but U of T was the only place that offered my course. The downtown campus was large, (68,000 students now) with the green space of King’s College Circle at it’s centre, but seemed isolated from the city surrounding it. It was an old school, with King’s College first established in 1827 by royal charter, and research based, being the birthplace of insulin, (I had some lectures in the old Banting and Best building complete with rows of narrow wooden desks), stem cell research, and cardiac pacemakers.

After they left, I started to unpack. The closet was small, but miraculously seemed big enough to handle my wardrobe, which was basically a few pairs of jeans, some sweaters and polyester shirts (I cringe at that), and a winter coat. I had worn a uniform in high school and didn’t have a ton of clothes, and everyone lived in jeans back then. There was a four-drawer bureau in the corner, upon which I placed my record player and small collection of albums, none of which I remember other than Gordon Lightfoot, a Canadian folksinger. I claimed the desk nearest the window, another uncharacteristically bold move for me, but I had lived under the shadow of an older sister for too long. The window overlooked the quad which separated the girl’s residence from the boy’s, which was full of engineers and so noisy it was called The Zoo. A decade later they made both buildings coed and my coop students told me it was impossible to get any work done.

My roommate arrived about an hour later. Her relatives were out the door so quickly I barely saw them. The first thing she did was set a picture of her father on the ledge over the radiator. He was wearing a black robe, and she told me he was a judge.

We had both filled out the residence survey as non-smokers and Catholic, but other than that we had nothing in common. She was a rich city kid, (I had encountered plenty of those at my Catholic high school, as it charged tuition after grade ten not too many poorer kids attended), whereas I had grown up on a farm. She commented about the upper bunk, (in retrospect I suppose we should have flipped a coin) but she was somewhat mollified by the fact that our quilt colors did not clash, although mine was from Zellers/Target (see photo above) and hers was hand-made by Mennonites – but really what could you see of it anyway on the top bunk? Although she did give her stamp of approval to the orange Poly-Perk coffee maker which my mother had bought me (my mother, always a generous soul, had fun that summer outfitting me for school).

We had a full residence plan, mandatory for first years, but did not have a fridge, but I’m not sure where you would have put one anyway. I lost ten pounds first year as residence food was not my mother’s cooking, and I had not yet developed a liking for pizza, being unaware you could order it without pepperoni.

The second thing my new roommate did was hang a poster of Van Goth’s sunflowers on the wall, a painting I did not recognize to her horror, my 18-year-old self not being familiar with art, famous or otherwise, having only taken sciences and maths in high school. So, the room nicely coordinated, she could relax. Except…..I never actually saw her relax. Despite her rather privileged life she seemed to live under a cloud of Eeyore-like pessimism and anxiety. She was pretty, blonde and thin, (everyone was thin then) but it was difficult to imagine someone in such a permanent negative funk ever being a cheerleader. I stressed about exams like everyone else, but I had more confidence that I would pass if I put the work in, whereas she was always full of doom and gloom and predicting failure with every test. Perhaps she felt pressure from the weight of expectations, whereas I had none. (Looking back I really won the parent lottery – I had the nicest, most easy-going parents – they were supportive, but if I had failed or not gone at all as some of my siblings didn’t, that would have been okay too.)

It’s not like we were enemies, but we weren’t friends either, we just didn’t click. We went to classes together the first few months as everyone had the same schedule, except for electives, mostly because neither of us knew anyone else. But she went home EVERY SINGLE WEEKEND, to see her high school boyfriend as her hometown was only an hour away. By then I was glad I had not given up the bottom bunk. I grew to enjoy the privacy of a room to myself for the first time in my life, but I was lonely and as I had no one to hang out with on the weekends, I stayed in and studied. The course load was heavy right from the start.

I was homesick myself the first semester, only going home for Canadian Thanksgiving mid-October, and that was it until Christmas. But I eventually got to know my next door neighbour, and through her, some girls on the third floor, who came from small towns up north and I ended up rooming with them in third year in an off-campus student flat, and later an apartment. Two of the girls were in a new program called computer science – the only girls in their class. I was never quite sure what they did but the seemed to spend entire nights in a lab coding something called Cobal, an early computer language. I did get back into residence second year, not one of the coveted singles, but a much larger (four times the size) double which was just as good. To get a single you had to schmooze at the dean’s meet-and-greet sherry and tea parties (like something out of a British novel with printed invitations) held in her apartment, and I was an introvert and couldn’t be bothered although I did attend once to sample the sherry – too sweet. I had a rebellious streak even then. Otherwise no one ever saw her or her husband, but they were the adults on site in the building. There was also a series of elderly male porters at the front door to man the desk, sort the mail, and run the switchboard, (and give you The Look if you came in too late). There were no phones in the rooms, so they would notify you via an intercom in your room when a long distance call came in and you would go to a phone booth down the hall. My parents called every Sunday night when the rates were cheaper, usually a short call of ten minutes or so. Otherwise there were letters. It was always a treat to get a letter from home – my mothers were newsy, but my dad’s were humorous – I kept them all.

We went to initiation (would you even be allowed to do some of those things today?) and frosh week activities together, including a day trip to Niagara Falls. The downtown campus was particularly nice in the fall when the leaves were changing. I remember going to a frosh banquet in the Great Hall at Hart House (think Harry Potter minus the broomsticks) in the ivy-covered Trinity College, wearing a short black skirt and matching vest and a pair of black suede platform shoes.

We went to a bar on Bloor Street after, my roommate and I and 3 guys, and I remember walking home through Queen’s Park, (the campus was next to the Parliament buildings) in my impractical platform shoes, with the leaves rustling underfoot, as you were not supposed to walk in the park after dark. Other than that, we seldom went off campus, other than very occasionally to the fast food restaurants on Bloor Street – Swiss Chalet, Mr. Submarine and Steak and Burger (home of tough steak and warm apple pie).

My roommate wore classics, Estee Lauder perfume and Clinique makeup, which I regarded as old lady stuff. I wore drugstore brands, Cover Girl and Maybelline. Being so much more fashionable, she took me shopping in downtown Toronto, as she was familiar with the stores and the subway system. She insisted we go to Fairweathers where she bought two wool sweaters, one of which I shrunk to doll-size as I didn’t know you weren’t supposed to put wool in the dryer. I had zero laundry experience, and never wore wool anyway – it was itchy. I don’t think she ever forgave me for shrinking her sweater, but she begrudgingly said she would give it to her little sister. I remember her stopping to window shop at a fancy jewelry store on Bloor St. as she planned on marrying her boyfriend who was destined for the law like her dad. We were 18 and I thought that bizarre. I had hardly even dated, and although I was more popular in university than in high school, marriage was the last thing on my mind. Women’s lib was in full swing. Wouldn’t you want to be independent and travel first?

U of T was not a party school – other than attending a few weekend pubs, a semi-formal and a homecoming parade, I don’t remember much partying after the first month. It was a serious academic university. I was lucky to get in, (although my program tended to favour kids from small towns) but it was harder to stay in. The workload was heavy with 30 hours of lectures and corresponding labs every afternoon in second year, including organic chemistry, analytical chemistry and medicinal chemistry, totally useless courses unless you were going into research. Organic chemistry killed a lot of my classmates. A quarter of my class had failed by the end of second year, including several of my close friends and a few others who just squeaked by. (The faculty made up for the high failure rate by accepting students with undergrad degrees and eventually that became a prerequisite). I did okay because I was organized and had good study habits and a decent memory. But I worked hard – I had the opportunity for an education and didn’t want to squander it. My degree gave me a good career for 40 years in a job I enjoyed, (except for the last five). I was lucky in that my parents paid for my education ($3000/yr) so I graduated with no debt, quite a contrast to the $30,000plus/yr now with maybe no job in sight? But I would have gone anyway, as it was easy to get loans and grants back then. They were based on financial need, the first $800 had to be repaid, the rest was free depending on your family’s income. My whole generation took advantage of that government program.

Lessons learned upon looking back:

Having an unsociable absentee roommate turned out to be a blessing in disguise, as it allowed me to focus on the reason I was there. Sometimes a bit of loneliness can be a good thing, if it forces you to do something productive or creative with your time.

It is perfectly possible to live in a very small space. I adapted, as I really wasn’t in the room that much, other than to sleep and study. Hello downsizing and tiny houses! Do I really need so much stuff? No wonder so many young people are minimalists today. My elderly neighbour, a former nurse, was upset about having to go to an assisted living facility. I made her feel better when I said, it will just be like residence again. You can socialize if you want to, but go to your room when you don’t want company. My mother had a lovely spacious light-filled room in her nursing home, as it was initially intended to be a double but was coded as semi-private, with her own bathroom. But when I looked at the private rooms, they were smaller than my dorm so I turned it down. She never wanted to go to a nursing home, but once there she settled in quite well and considered it her home for the last year, enjoying the company of the other residents.

Appreciate having your own bathroom – I remember having to go down the hall to the communal washroom and that was a pain, although it never seemed very busy, but maybe I was up earlier than most of the students.

A small wardrobe can be a good thing. I think I could go back to having a capsule wardrobe, which is all the rage these days, no more than 10-15 interchangeable clothing items. Mostly that’s what I have now anyway, or what I wear, the same basics with an assortment of tops. Do I really need four closets? I remember the hours I spent shopping and coordinating outfits….which was fun then but not so much now that clothes are so ugly and utilitarian.

Mostly, I would like to thank my parents (both gone now) for giving me the opportunity to go to university. They both valued education, and I’m in the process of arranging a high school scholarship in their name, a more complicated process than you would think. Do kids today even appreciate a higher education? Is it still an advantage or are you better off with a more practical college course or a trade? The youth unemployment rate is high here right now (14%) – and I feel sorry for those who have such massive debt to pay back. Tuition for my course is now $18,000/year, and a residence room is $15,000 to 20,000 for a single. I was in shock after googling that, as just a few years ago I’m sure it was $10K. How can you make a wise decision what to study when the future job market will be impacted by AI and so many jobs possibly made obsolete? As one of the AI developers said, maybe it’s better to be a hairdresser or a plumber.

I had no idea tuition had gotten that expensive, until I saw this Forbes story online, about a billionaire who left 1.5 billion to a med school in New York, for free tuition ($59,000/year) for all students admitted for four years in perpetuity. What a gift! It would be nice if more of the billionaires would share their wealth that way.

Do you have any memories of your first time living away from home that you would like to share?

PS. I lost track of my old roommate after we graduated, but heard she had married her boyfriend, had two kids and no doubt went on to live a perfect life. A friend of mine attended a wedding shower she was at years ago and she had gifted the bride-to-be with a pair of silver toaster tongs, which my friend thought weird, but to me sounded just about right. Fast forward to now. You can find anyone since obituaries went online. And yes, there was the same photo of her father the judge in his robes, now deceased, but there was no mention of the boyfriend/hubby. Whose life ever turns out the way they expected it to? As John Lennon said – Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.

PS. My apologies for the length of this….if you given up reading….but I’m only posting once a month for awhile. The Blue Jays are headed to the World Series!

Spring has Sprung – Wordless Wednesday

April 15, 202018 Comments

Let your photo(s) tell your story.

Spring has sprung!

The Literary Salon – Quiet – A Book for Introverts

August 28, 2019August 30, 201922 Comments

One of the most common remarks that I read from bloggers on here, is that she/he is an introvert. Writers tend to be introverts, with a few exceptions, Hemingway being one, but then maybe he was just an extrovert when he’d had a few too many. Writing requires introspection, and some peace and quiet. Your mind be busy and your thoughts multiplying faster than you can get them down, but outwardly you are silent. Although this book is not a new release (it was a best-seller in 2012 and won numerous awards), I thought it would be a good selection for this month’s literary salon, if only to provide food for thought as summer is winding down and our noisy busy lives resume.

Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking – by Susan Cain – 2012

Publishers Blurb

“At least one-third of the people we know are introverts. They are the ones who prefer listening to speaking; who innovate and create but dislike self-promotion; who favor working on their own over working in teams. It is to introverts—Rosa Parks, Chopin, Dr. Seuss, Steve Wozniak—that we owe many of the great contributions to society.

In Quiet, Susan Cain argues that we dramatically undervalue introverts and shows how much we lose in doing so. She charts the rise of the Extrovert Ideal throughout the twentieth century and explores how deeply it has come to permeate our culture. She also introduces us to successful introverts–from a witty, high-octane public speaker who recharges in solitude after his talks, to a record-breaking salesman who quietly taps into the power of questions. Passionately argued, superbly researched, and filled with indelible stories of real people, Quiet has the power to permanently change how we see introverts and, equally important, how they see themselves.”

About the Author:

A self-proclaimed introvert, Susan Cain is an honors graduate of Princeton and Harvard Law School and spent seven years working in corporate law for prestigious clients, then worked as a negotiations consultant before quitting to become a writer. In addition to her two best-sellers (Quiet 2012 and Quiet Power: The Secret Strengths of Introverts 2016), her writing has been published in The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal and many other publications, and her TED talk on the same theme has been viewed over 23 million times. She is co-founder of the Quiet Schools Network and The Quiet Leadership Institute. All in all, a very impressive resume – it tired me out just reading about all her accomplishments, and this is just the shortened version – although she attributes all she has achieved to being an introvert. I did note that it took her seven years to research and write the book.

My Goodreads Review:

Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking by Susan Cain

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

As an introvert, I really enjoyed this book, especially the last chapter which was addressed to schools and teachers, but then I was the child whose otherwise stellar report card always included the derogatory comment, “Joni fails to participate in class.” Vindicated – Introverts now Rule!

Why I Liked The Book: (see review above)

It’s been so long since I read this book that I can’t remember specific details about it, but it made me feel that introverts were finally being heard and valued for the first time, in a world which basically worships extroverts. Most of our public leaders, CEOs and politicians are extroverts – anyone who can talk a good game is often successful, justified or not, in a world which often values style over substance. These are the people who take up all the space in the room, grab all the attention and never lack for anything to say. But do they ever stop to listen? Introverts tend to be the best listeners, and often make the best bosses because they listen, ask questions and weigh all the factors before they decide or speak. They tend to observe and remember things about others, and usually make great conversationalists, a rare trait in this all-about-me world. They are often creative souls as creativity requires solitude. Introverts are generally undervalued in today’s society, so I enjoyed reading a book which pointed all that out and felt a certain degree of vindication. (Not to knock extroverts though, parties would be dull without them!) Here’s a Wikipedia link with a breakdown of the chapters and principles involved.

Introverts would much rather stay home and read a good book than go out to a social event, but usually enjoy themselves when they do. The would rather have a good conversation with one person, than many superficial ones at a crowded party. They enjoy their own company, and like being with others, but usually need alone time after socializing, in order to recharge.

I’ve always been a quiet person, a result of genes, being a middle child and growing up in a fairly isolated rural environment. I was a quiet kid who turned into a quiet adult. I might have gone into journalism as I love a good story, only I and others (like the high school guidance counselor) thought I was too quiet. (But then they ruined my plan of being a girl detective too!)

I was a details person, as quiet people often are, and was well suited to my career where for decades I had a comfortable level of interaction with people. Working forced me to become more extroverted, and I was good at it, (no one would know as I can talk for hours if I have to, it’s an Irish thing), but it can be exhausting being an introvert in many jobs today. Like many work places, mine was eventually subject to downsizing, staff cuts and quotas and my enjoyable job turned into a stressful one, where I was under constant pressure and seeing way too many people – as those Facebook memes say, it was too peoply out there. I like people, in small doses, but after a day of people in big doses I would come home so overstimulated and drained it would take hours to decompress. I needed lots of down time. (I suppose if you are an extrovert who works at home all day you might want to go out at night and see people, but I have to wonder if the author’s change of careers was precipitated by her marriage and raising young children – those little cling-ons require lots of energy). Plus there is a level of rudeness and impatience in society today which was not there in my earlier working years. So if you ask me what I miss about not working, it’s the people, (most of them quite wonderful), but then again, it’s not. If you’re an introvert, you’ll know what I mean.

Introverts often have an easier time with retirement, as they are used to spending time alone, content in their own company and many retirement activities – gardening, reading, painting, are solitary pursuits. I guess if you are an extrovert you fill your schedule with volunteering or run for public office or travel the world on bus tours. While no one wants to be lonely or turn into a hermit, it’s nice to have a balance between the two which is consistent with your level of introversion or extroversion whatever it might be. (People who fall near the middle of the spectrum are called ambiverts).

Do they still make kids do public speaking in school? It was always a dreaded activity for me. Oh, I could write the speech, but my voice is soft and I can’t hear you would be the usual comment. Introverts do not like being the centre of attention, hence the dislike of public speaking – hard to avoid unless your speech is so boring the audience falls asleep! I would hope that teachers are better trained now to value introverts as well as extroverts. As for those report card comments, it was always the word – “failed” which bothered me. As if failure to raise your hand and participate was a crime, instead of merely being the innate personality trait it is, belonging to that of a quiet soul.

PS. As this is an older book, libraries may have a copy. It’s a fairly long but interesting read, but if you lack the time, here’s a link to the author’s TED talk.

Upon re-watching the TED talk again (20 minutes), I highly recommend it – some very excellent points, especially about solitude and creativity. I especially liked that it opened with the author talking about social activity in her family being everyone all together in their comfortable corners, reading their books. Obviously she grew up in a family of introverts, but her talk/book also has an important message for extroverts trying to understand their introvert spouses (opposites attract!) and children.

A Gothic Read for Halloween

October 27, 2018October 30, 20188 Comments

Here’s a spooky book to read while handing out the Halloween candy….and a link to last years blog on decorations, Come In For A Spell.

(I had not intended on doing a Halloween post other than this short book recomend, but the opportunity arose for A Visit with the Paranormal – so stay tuned for Fright Night at the Museum early next week).

The Death of Mrs. Westaway by Ruth Ware

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I had enjoyed British Crime Writer, Ruth Ware’s earlier books (In a Dark Dark Wood and The Woman in Cabin 10) but found this one very slow going at the start, to the point where I thought I might abandon it altogether, but I am glad I stuck with it because the ending was brilliant. The stage must be set, but I don’t know if we needed seventy or so pages to establish the protagonist as poor, cold and alone, and then the next seventy pages to establish the Gothic mansion as decrepit, cold, creepy and full of magpies…and well Gothic. I noticed she used the same descriptions over and over……her breath huffing in the frosty air……the cold draft at the window…..shivering in the rain etc……it made me long for a cuppa hot tea. But once the story got going, it took flight just like those menacing magpies…..and I couldn’t put it down. Even though I had guessed part of the ending half-way through, there was still a surprise twist. Jolly well done.

Add the soundtrack from some classic Hitchcock….

Under Pressure (Instant-Pot for Beginners)

June 18, 2018June 18, 201811 Comments

Several months ago, I was gifted an Instant-Pot Pressure Cooker. I would never have been brave enough to buy one myself. Anything that boasts about it’s ten safety mechanisms on the box makes me extremely nervous.

10 safety mechanisms

Of course, I realize the marketing team felt it necessary to reassure those who remember their mothers or grandmothers pressure cookers blowing up on top of the stove and coating the ceiling with the meal du jour.

Museum display of old pressure cookers

And then there was the Boston Marathon tragedy, all those lives lost and missing limbs. I remember a co-worker telling me several years ago that her husband had bought a pressure cooker from Amazon and staring at her quite puzzled as to why someone would want such a thing, in fact I even reminded her that the government was monitoring online purchases of such possible terrorist devices. I was blissfully unaware of the cult of the Instant-Pot, which can cook food two to six times faster, but her newly-retired-now-in-charge-of-supper husband was not, and anything that could promise to whip up a meal in thirty minutes might also conserve precious couch sitting time. If you check out Amazon, the reviews tend to be favorable, lots of “life-changing” comments, a few mentions that it stopped working after a few months, some complaints about older models, and recently there was a company recall on the Gem 8 in 1 model which overheated and caused a meltdown. I am probably already making watchers of the American TV show This is Us very nervous, (the main character dies after a crock-pot catches fire and burns the house down but this was in the seventies when crock-pots were new).

The Gifter was a millennial, and aware of my technological ineptitude, but also aware that I, the Giftee, would persist, with gritted teeth, until I figured it out. Like many of my generation, I lack the technology gene, the devil-may-care, let’s-try-this-and-see-what-happens attitude of younger people, who don’t remember when “it should work” usually required four hours of trying to restore it to it’s previous state. When I bought my first computer back in 1986, a glowing orange DOS dinosaur currently awaiting museum status in the basement, it did not even come with an instruction manual and there was no internet back then to google solutions. I still have PTSD from my first laptop in 2000 when I recall spending a whole afternoon reinstalling Windows the very first day. Now laptops have become so efficient nothing ever seems to go wrong with them, and on the rare occasion it does, they fix and upgrade themselves. I may hate it, but I must admit technology can be a wonderful thing.

Still, it was several weeks before I took it out of the box, but finally I read through the Instruction Manual and checked out all the menu buttons.

: The Hissing Monster

It didn’t seem too bad until I read the troubleshooting guide – “Intermittent beeping after the cooker starts for awhile could indicate overheating due to starch deposits on the bottom – Stop the cooker and inspect the bottom of the pot.” Stop the cooker? How? There is no stop button. Hit cancel? Pull out the plug? Do a Quick Release before or after? After that, I was not brave enough to try the initial steam test. My mother was having eye surgery soon, and I had visions of burning my hands or face and not being able to drive the several hours to the clinic. I put it back in the box and it sat there in a corner of the dining room glaring at me while I did my best to ignore it, although once in a while I would stare at it and sigh.

Several weeks post-op, the Gifter (waves at Gifter), emailed me asking how the pressure cooking was going. The Gifter had also previously sent me an email recall of Insta-Pots melting down, but a quick model number check reassured me mine was not one of them. Nevertheless, I was starting to feel under pressure.

So feeling guilty for having ignored the gift for so long and with some trepidation, I did the recommended steam test first, which involved adding 3 cups of water and hitting the steam button for 2 minutes. This is to ensure your machine is not defective, and horror, might have to be returned. The steam shot out like a mini volcano then stopped. It didn’t seem too bad, but if you have small children or dogs be forewarned they might find the hissing part scary. (Lock up the cat too, it might hiss back). I know I did, and donned safety glasses just in case. I can’t quite figure out the mechanism of the steam release, as it does this when the proper pressure is reached before it starts the cook countdown, and then after when it is done, it either releases naturally or you can do a quick release, but I am sure there is a sound scientific theory behind it.

Part of my dilemma, when researching the literally thousands of recipes online, is that I have the Mini-Duo 3-quart pot, and all the recipes are for the regular 6-quart size, (there is also an 8-quart size). The Mini is designed for 2-4 portions, and people who don’t want leftovers – it’s ideal for singles, college students or empty nesters. I found it made four regular but not man-sized portions, but then I was careful not to overfill it past the 2/3 fill line, due to fear of clogging the release mechanism. I wasted several days trying to find out if I needed to reduce the cooking time as well as cut the recipes in half, but the Instant-Pot support person told me to use the regular cooking time in the recipe, (as in the oven temperature is set the same for one piece of chicken or ten), but then she said it depended on the thickness of the meat/food. It was all very vague. She finally came out and said there was no official cookbook for the Mini, although there are lots of regular recipes on the Instant Pot website. There is also an official Facebook page listed in the instruction manual, one for beginner’s (and those who are scared) and one for cult members, (lots of gushing and pretty pictures). There is also a small recipe book in the box, with things like coconut fish curry, Moroccan lamb tajine, purple yam barley porridge and turnip cake (and no I am not making this up.) The only recipe I found appealing in the booklet was for roast beef, so I started with that.

I had bought a small sirloin tip roast but had to cut the end off to get it to fit in the pot. I stuck the rest in the oven with some baked potatoes. My dilemma then was whether to set the roast on top of the trivet thing, or to rest it on the bottom in the 2 cups of chicken broth. I posted the question on the Facebook support page and when I checked back later, two women were having a fight – one said resting it on the trivet would result in steamed meat and the only way to get any flavor was to let it soak, the other said it would be soggy and boiled if I set it in the liquid. Having spent the better part of the afternoon researching recipes online I was exhausted so I posted that I was going to take a nap and left them duking it out. I seared the meat on saute, plopped it on the trivet/steam rack (as it was also recommended by the tech support people and majority rules), added the broth, and set the timer for 40 minutes (the Instant-Pot recipe booklet said 50-60 min for roast, but I cut it back as mine wasn’t as thick), and went to take a catnap. I woke up feeling much better, and after doing a quick release, the meat was perfectly done and perfectly tasteless – it tasted boiled, to me anyway, but the recipient of the meal seemed pleased.

Blame it on the Facebook lady, who when I reported back on my lack of success, suggested I feed it to the dog, and since I do not own a dog the neighbor’s would have to suffice. This picture is taken through the fence, as the dog has the strange habit of peeing on my shoes in some strange form of enthusiastic greeting, and I am rather protective of my shoes, size 5 being hard to find. I did get the owner’s permission of course, (as some dogs only dine on dried dog food), but the dog was so happy, he will probably pee twice as much the next time he sees me. I know he doesn’t look happy but that breed looks perpetually sad.

Luckily, the end piece of roast I had put in the oven was tender, and the baked potatoes were nice and fluffy. With some salt and lots of butter, a baked potato is a perfectly fine meal, (it must be my Irish Roots). The Instant-Pot went back in the box…..and might have stayed there had the weather not turned cold again, and I turned into the Soup-Chef. I am a soup lover, and we were still having winter here. What is more warming than a hearty bowl of soup. Since then I have made Loaded Potato Soup (the potatoes cooked in 8 min, but I would have nixed the cream cheese), Potato and Leek Soup (again 8 min potatoes but I cheated and used a Knorr Cream of Leek dried soup mix to flavor the broth because I didn’t have any leeks, next time ½ package as it was too onioney),

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Potato and Leek Soup

Split Pea and Ham soup (using the leftover ham from Easter, too thick, too many peas), Cheesy Cauliflower Soup (the best so far, but maybe less onion), and Beef Stew (with cheaper stewing meat, but it was too watery, had to remove some broth before I thickened it, and with recommended cooking times ranging from 12 min to 45, I chose 20, and although the beef was very tender, the potatoes had turned to mush. Next time I will cook the beef for 15 min and add the veggies for 5 min). After the countdown is done, the keep warm function will come on, so you can add the milk, cheese or other ingredients to thicken the soup. I also made macaroni and cheese (perfect pasta in 4 minutes), but when I vented it a thick white liquid (instead of just steam), came spewing out all over the kitchen cupboard (which since my cupboards need replacing didn’t bother me too much other than I had to wipe up the mess). Page three of the instruction booklet warns that certain foods such as macaroni, noodles, spaghetti, oatmeal, split peas, cranberries etc may foam, froth, sputter and clog the release mechanism, “these foods should not be cooked under the pressure cooker settings unless directed in Instant-Pot recipes.” I was aware not to overfill it with foods which could expand, but were they suggesting that frothing and foaming like a rabid animal is normal – proceed at your own risk if you have nice kitchen cupboards? A puzzling, rather ambiguous statement considering the sheer volume of recipes available containing these ingredients.

The saute feature is also useful for searing the meat first in the pot, as it saves dirtying an extra pan on the stove. When using Saute of course you must keep the lid off. There is also a slow cooker function on the pot which I have not used, you have to have the lid in the venting position for that, or you can buy a special glass lid. There is also a yogurt maker function, which some people raved about. While browsing recipes someone had made sourdough bread in his, and I wondered about baking as deserts are my thing. I noticed there is a recipe for Crème Brulee in the small recipe book.

There are seven features on my model, (see pic below), but I see from the Website there are now 9 in 1 models which add cake baking and sterilizing functions, a Bluetooth model you can control from a smartphone or tablet, and a new Ultra Deluxe 10 model which can customize pressure and non-pressure cooking for the perfect combination, as well as 16 different functions, including make perfect eggs and probably also set the table, empty the dish washer and put out the garbage. Can kitchen robots be far behind? A pot like that deserves a name – perhaps Louis?

Seven different functions

To sum up, I see this machine as being particularly useful for busy working people who want a nutritious meal on the table fast, especially if you have prepped your ingredients before hand, plus it has the added advantage of fresh ingredients, (perhaps from your Potager), but it is definitely a learning curve and a process of experimentation. While I don’t think I’m a Pot-Head yet, and might never be, I think if we spend a little more time together we could become quite good friends.

Some additional tips:

The Instruction Manual, like most instruction manuals, is simultaneously ambiguous while also making it seem more complicated than it really is. Of course, I have not encountered anything which requires real troubleshooting yet.

To be reassuring, it is impossible to open the pot when it is in the locked position and under pressure. It also makes a cute little chirping R2D2 sound when you lock the lid or remove it. Do not open the pot until the float valve drops down and all the steam is released, either naturally or a quick release. To do a quick pressure release is not difficult, but you do have to be careful of the steam, use tongs or oven mitts to move the valve to venting, and keep your face away. Be careful also when taking the lid off the pot, in case it is steamy. Pay attention to your recipes and follow whichever release is recommended for the food you have in it…..a natural release might result in overcooked food, and vice versa. Some recipes combine the two, calling for a natural release of 15 min, then finishing up with a quick release. After a couple of uses, I was not worried about the pot exploding anymore, as it is quite sturdily built, and you cannot open the pot when it is locked and in the sealing position. I even put the safety glasses away.

The official Instant-Pot website has lots of recipes, a help line, and FAQ’s. I found the Youtube videos helpful also, more for quantities and cooking times, but make sure you look at the finished product as my beef stew recipe did not need 3 cups of water, (and that was one of the few Mini recipes I found). You must have the required minimum of liquid in the pot to achieve pressure, but that was overkill for the Mini. (The tech help line said a minimum of 1 cup for mini, 2 cups for the larger size).

The advantage of the smaller 3 qt Mini is that it takes a shorter time to reach pressure, (less than ten min), so this cuts way down on the meal prep time. I made soup in 30 minutes. Whereas the bigger pots (6 to 8 qts) can take up to 20 minutes to reach cooking pressure before they start the cooking countdown, so factor in the preheat time when deciding which size pot you want to buy, as well as the size of your family, and whether you want leftovers.

I am still skeptical about cooking plain meat, unless you like to add lots of spices, like in a curry or stew. (I tend to be more a plain meat/potato/veg person). As well as pasta, I am sure the pot would be wonderful and fast (4min) for rice dishes, as well as baked potatoes. I cooked my potatoes for the potato soup in 8min, but some recipes said 5min. As for the soups, I don’t think you get the same mingling of flavors as you would if you simmered the soup on the stove for several hours, but the quickness of the cooking might outweigh the difference. For that reason I wonder if the new Ultra Deluxe 10 in 1 model with it’s customized programs might be more beneficial in terms of taste, as you would have the best of both worlds, the flavor of a slow cooker and the speed of the pressure cooker.

I am not sure if Instant-Pot’s are popular elsewhere or if this is a North-American phenomenon? I read somewhere they were invented by a Canadian company. They were certainly one of the most popular Christmas gifts last year, and everyone I run into has a relative who got one for Christmas and loves it and gushes about it (members of the cult), or hasn’t taken it out of the box yet. I had an interesting conversation with a lady in the grocery store aisle when buying dried split peas. I asked if she knew the difference between the yellow and green variety, and she replied that her family wouldn’t eat anything that green unless it was St. Patrick’s Day, a valid point, so I bought the yellow ones. She had been given an Instant-Pot three weeks earlier but hadn’t used it yet, it was a re-gift from her sister who had been afraid to open it at all. Fear seems to be a common theme. One woman posted ecstatically on the Facebook group that she had found one in the original box at a thrift shop for $5. If you don’t want to spend too much, or think it might end up living in the Cupboard of Unused Appliances, you could check out the thrift stores for donations by those who feared too much, but beware the safety mechanisms have been improved on the newer models, so I would check the age of the model. Also if you see a sale in a flyer, act fast as they sell out quick. So, chose your side – Team Instant-Pot or Team-Stove. For me I think it will be both, the Instant-Pot for quickness and convenience and the stove for a leisurely afternoon and a house filled with the aroma of something good cooking.

(Disclaimer: I received no remuneration for this review, unless you count the bone the dog greeted me with on my next visit to the neighbors – see you can teach an old dog new tricks).

May Flowers

May 8, 2018May 11, 20185 Comments

April showers bring May flowers, so the saying goes. Finally we are having some signs of spring here after what must be the longest winter ever. Midway through April and nothing but single digit temperatures, flurries and freezing rain. The flowers were up and trying to be brave but why bloom when you can hide. But today it rained, a soft spring rain, destined to bring the first new fuzz out on the trees, a shade of green that is impossible to describe.

Here’s some proof that warm weather is on it’s way.

Forsythia and Siberian Squill,

Purple Vinca,

I like the mixture of colors in this clump of tulips, so cheerful to see while walking on a rainy spring day.

This is the best time of year for lazy gardeners, as mother nature is doing all the work.

All the fruits of last years fall plantings are bursting forth, and we can just sit back and enjoy the show.

my favorite pink tulip

The final sign, the love birds are back and nesting. They arrived during the last ice storm and had that nest assembled practically overnight, hence the messy job. It was so cold they must have felt the need for some extra layers. They need to do some spring cleaning and so do I, but first a cup of tea on the deck to listen to the birds and gaze at nature’s masterpiece.

Postscript: for more pretty flower pics see last weeks post Among the Daffodils.

Enchanted April

April 24, 2018April 24, 201922 Comments

“To those who appreciate wisteria and sunshine. Small medieval Italian castle on the shores of the Mediterranean to be let furnished for the month of April. Necessary servants remain. Z, Box 1000, The Times.”

Despite being written almost a hundred years ago the book, The Enchanted April, is just as enchanting today. Four very different women, all unknown to each other in dreary post WW1 Britain, answer an ad for an Italian villa. Two are married but taken for granted by their husbands, one is single and beautiful but tired of grabby men, and one is a widow facing a sad lonely old age. They have nothing in common other than they are starved for beauty and love, and for the fresh air and sunshine of the Italian coast.

Italian Villa – 2015

I watched the movie first, before I read the book, which is what I would recommend. The movie is from 1992 and while film quality has improved tremendously since then, it is still a lovely period drama, (and if I’m ever reincarnated I want to come back with straight black bobbed hair).

My Good-reads review:

The Enchanted April by Elizabeth von Arnim

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I absolutely loved this book, but I had watched the movie first. A timeless tale with a lovely story line and such vivid descriptions of flowers, gardens and beautiful countryside that you almost felt like you were there.
I ordered the book because it is one of those timeless classics you simply have to own. It was a bestseller in it’s day, 1923, and was based on a month long trip the author, Elizabeth von Arnim, made with her husband to the village of Portofino, Italy, which soon became a famous tourist destination because of the success of the book. They stayed at the Castello Brown, (now a museum), which is where the movie was filmed seventy years later.

It’s such a charming story, that it might inspire you to grab three of your girlfriends and go off on your own Italian adventure. Who wouldn’t want to live la dolce vita?

Tuscan Villa – 2015

Of course in the book the villa came complete with all the necessary servants, so hiring a chef to do the cooking would be the sensible thing to do. (You could invite Amal for tea, she’s British and may be in need of a cuppa and a break from the bambinos). Isn’t that part of the attraction of period pieces, there was always someone to prepare the meals, wash the dishes, care for the children…..and look after the garden.

It’s not surprising that there were such lovely descriptions of the flowers and grounds in the book, as the author’s first bestseller was Elizabeth and Her German Garden in 1898. I have not read that one yet, as I plan on reading it outside on the deck whenever it gets warm enough, as inspiration for gardening season. But I did read her book, The Solitary Summer, last summer which I enjoyed also, which concerned her need for solitude and beauty in the countryside with her April, May and June babies. Her first best seller was published anonymously, and the subsequent ones as by the author of Elizabeth and Her German Garden. Because these books are old and often out of print they are best ordered online.

Perhaps there is something about being in such a lovely setting that inspires love. In the book their husbands became more appreciative, although no one runs off and has an affair, (it was a more decorous time), well only the single one. I remember reading once in a book on Italy about a medical condition called, Stendhal’s Syndrome, which is an emotional reaction to too much loveliness. A handful of tourists are treated for this every year in Florence, having been overwhelmed by an excess of beauty. Finally a medical condition we can all aspire too! Of course we don’t have to go to Italy to experience beauty in our lives – it is all around us, we just have to pay attention. Is it possible to surround yourself with an excess of loveliness, especially in a world which so often seems full of evil, hate, and ugliness? Perhaps not, but it is an admirable goal to choose to focus on what is lovely in the world, and so much better for your health! Buona giornata!

Quote of the Day: “It is their manners as a whole, their natural ways, bonhomie, the great art of being happy which is here practiced with this added charm, that the good people do not know that it is an art, the most difficult of all.” (Stendhal on Italy)

Song of the Day: April Love by Pat Boone

The French Touch

April 20, 2018April 21, 20188 Comments

We cannot always have Paris, but we can all have a touch of Paris in our homes. I was surprised when I looked around my humble maison, (which more resembles a B&B), how much of a French influence I have in my surroundings, but they are small touches, understated, like the French themselves, where less is more. The French way of life is one of order, elegance, proper routine and a good dose of perfectionism – of course this might just be a myth perpetuated by smug French women! (The Victoria magazine cover Oct 2000 is just so French – I collect the back issues and the annual French edition is always inspiring. This years French edition is in May/June).

Victoria – May/June 2018 French Edition

A favorite flea market sign from Winners, in my front hallway. (Note B&B wallpaper as I have not finished renovating the house yet, although the outside is done, but I don’t mind the wallpaper so it may have to stay).

My first and only attempt at stenciling hangs in the dining room, (don’t look too close, you really have to glue those stencils on well).

Who doesn’t love lavender. I have lavender everywhere, in bowls, sachets, vases, soap….

Paris hatboxes and journals….

Paris Journals

A special Renoir journal for jotting down blog ideas.

The Paris Journal

A silk scarf a friend brought me back from Paris many years ago, in my favorite color blue.

And of course no aspiring Parisian would be complete without a navy striped boat neck sweater, (and some red lipstick).

HappyHauteHome, (check out her elegant blog on the modern French country home) posted about a French provincial home for sale, which looks like my dream house, but until I win the lottery, I will just have to be content with my petite accents. To be French is an attitude, a state of mind, oui?

What blog would be complete without une recommandation de livre.

The French way of life is a call to pay attention, an appreciation of all matters large and small, including food, which is to be savored without guilt or worry. I can smell those fresh baguettes already. French Women Don’t Get Fat.

French Women Don’t Get Fat: The Secret of Eating for Pleasure by Mireille Guiliano

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

An enjoyable read, this book certainly provided a different way of looking at eating, for pleasure and without guilt about calories or cholesterol. I think I’ll go for a long walk to the boulangerie….like the French do!

After reading so much about their chocolat chaud, I decided to try making my own. I added four squares of Baker’s semi-sweet chocolate (but any good dark chocolate would do), to a bit of water and microwaved it well until it melted into a nice chocolatey gooey mess, then a few teaspoons of sugar and the milk, and microwaved it again until hot. Um….like drinking a chocolate bar. Maybe best to add only add two squares……

My only venture into French cooking was a failed attempt at beef bourguignon which I ruined by using a cheap red burgundy, despite the advice of the LCBO clerk that I should trade up to a better vintage. She was adamant, I did not listen. I hadn’t shopped at the liquor store for years (other than an annual trek at Christmas to buy rum for the pudding), and was horrified by the wine prices, when I only needed a cup and a half? The best that could be said for it was that it was edible….if you were very hungry and very poor like Hemingway in his early days.

One day while shopping at a very expensive bakery ($55 for a birthday cake – let them eat Betty Crocker!), I spied a lovely tray of pastel macarons, and even though they were $2.50 per cookie I decided to splurge – totally tasteless. If this is what Proust was going on about with his French madeleines, I think I’ll pass. The best part of the cookie by far was the turquoise color. It’s good to try new things sometimes, if only to find out what you don’t like. I do like crepes though, my favorite tea shop used to offer an excellent chicken and mushroom crepe until they closed due to a rent increase. On my farewell visit I asked the owner for the recipe, and she said just make a basic roux, so I did, but my roux was thick and pasty from too much floor. Julia Child I am not, so I will need to try again as I do miss the tea shop. We have no need to fear the cream filled calories of France however, as gardening season will soon be here and now that spring has sprung, we can walk it off. Next week we will be in Italy, along the coast, bring sunscreen. Until then enjoy the spring flowers.

Muguet du bois,

: Lily of the Valley

Three Days, Three Quotes Challenge – Day Three

March 31, 2018April 1, 20184 Comments

The grande finale. I would like to thank Chomeuse with a Chou for nominating me for this challenging literary exercise. (see Days One and Two for previous quotes and some shameless PR). What to chose? My mind is abuzz with numerous quotes, I cannot chose just one. It is so distressing. (“I will be calm – I will be mistress of myself.” – Elinor Dashwood, Sense and Sensibility). I fear we must set dear Jane aside, lest the other literary greats feel neglected. I am waffling between Henry James and Edna St. Vincent Millay and as they both involve better weather than what we are currently having (snow flurries for Easter), they may prove inspirational as well.

Quote: “I will be the gladdest thing under the sun. I will touch a hundred flowers and not pick one.” (Edna St. Vincent Millay)

I picked this cheerful quote because it’s been a long cold snowy winter, but spring and gardening season are on the way, and won’t we all feel better with some sun and May flowers.

And after spring, comes summer….and the beach and beach reading.

Quote: “Summer afternoon – summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.” (Henry James)

Here are the Rules:

1. Thank the person who nominated you

2. Post a quote for three consecutive days (1 quote for each day).

3. Nominate three bloggers each day.

My nominees are:

Seeking Beaches

https://www.unfoldandbegin.com/

https://sophiexli.wordpress.com/

If anyone else who is reading this would like to participate, please feel free to join in and share!

If you are burning the candle at both ends like Edna and are pressed for time that’s okay. I acknowledge some people are not fans of awards, but this one is a fun and easy post…..if you like quotes that is! As Jane said, “one half of the world cannot understand the pleasures of the other.” (Emma)