red

So, I guess I have no excuse for hanging on to my old cassettes, since my new car does not have a tape deck. I am only mildly disappointed by this. They have been whittled down to a few of my most favourites and even then I barely remember what is in the box. Until I open it and get an emotional rush. I still have a stereo that has a tape player and a turntable which is in perfectly good working order. Or at least it was about five years ago when I last tested it. Perhaps if I had an ipod, I could transfer some of the music from the tapes and records onto it. If I had any idea how to do that. The new car has an ipod thing.

During one of my recent de-cluttering events, I came across a portable cd player I had bought for my father when he was in hospital. He died seven years ago and I had forgotten I still had it. There was a  Louis Armstrong cd inside. It was in a different drawer from the walkman I have had since godknowswhen. There was a Pat Metheny tape inside that one. (I have occasionally wondered what happened to it.)  There may have been a tape inside my car that is now gone, I just realize....... I forgot to check.

Anyway, there came a day a few weeks ago when suddenly I realized I had had enough of my old car that needed more repairs - some important, some minor enough to ignore as I had been doing already. Once I had made that decision, I couldn't get rid of it fast enough. After doing some research, I thought I would give Kia a try. Reviewers who test drive these things seemed to have been pleasantly surprised at their performance.  I've never had a brand new car before, but I figured if I could find a new one I liked within my budget, then great, otherwise it would be a harder job to find a used one. New cars are much easier - you go to the dealership and test drive, then decide. Used means going to several places and trying out every car you might consider a contender, perhaps a couple of times. And it may involve more negotiating. And I didn't really want to do all that. These guys were all over themselves offering me little extras (and I mean little: a gas card, a points card, keychain, a car wash bucket with stuff in it, even an ice scraper) which were nice gestures. And I like the idea of a 5-year warranty. Never had that before!

I now have to get used to driving something smaller and a little less luxurious than previous, but also that at least does not leak or make strange sounds and has all its interior lights functioning (as mine burned out, I never bothered replacing the bulbs. I spent a lot of time sitting in brightly lit gas station bays to do my paperwork and find stuff that had dropped...) And it is red. For the first time in about a dozen years I have something that is not silver. I was getting a little bored with the silver anyway. Though, one of the guys who delivers a different newspaper to the same apartment buildings as me also drives a red car and I have already come outside and thought it was his car, until I realized that this one was shinier, and, dare I say, nicer looking. And all mine.

Sunday Stamps

lepus arcticus aka arctic hare or polar rabbit 

they look like rabbits but have shorter ears and can stand up taller and are adapted to live in the tundra regions of Greenland and northernmost parts of Canada, like Labrador and Nunavut. this is another in the cute baby animals series Canada is producing

lepus europaeus aka brown hare, eastern jackrabbit

is adapted to the temperate, open country of northern, central and eastern Europe and western Asia, which could be why both Russia and Belarus have honoured him on their stamps.

Since Viridian gave us a choice of anything we wanted, I am dedicating this theme for Maggie May who asked last week "where are the rabbits"?

earrings

... and the matching necklace, just becasue I couldn't resist.

By a Montreal designer, Christophe Poly

the other side of the bay

The Waterfront Trail (with Pier 4 Park) is just ahead and around the bend. first we travel over this bridge

and from a vantage point at the near end of the bridge we can see where we are headed

click on the pictures to embiggen for maximum viewing pleasure

it is still a bit early for the yachts to be in the water, though I met a few people undressing their boats, feeling hopeful…

as were these fishermen. but wait, see the choppy, brown water? it was rather windier than I anticipated

making it hard taking pictures, though entertaining to watch the gulls struggling to stay aloft. this little guy was taking a well deserved breather.

see how these bronzed figures had to struggle to hold down this massive sail?

and yes, all these pictures were taken on the same day, just in slightly different directions and with two different cameras.

we’ll start at the … less pretty end. the part with the ships and the steel plant in the background. the paths are level and wide enough for pedestrians, cyclists and roller bladers.

we pass by The Discovery Centre, which is probably quite interesting. it was closed by the time

I finished my coffee at the coffee pub. on the plus side, it was exciting to realize that the sun was still high in the sky at 5pm.

lots of seating is provided for a resting view of the yachts that will eventually be berthed

before we wander over the hill that will take us to this side of the park

where we find ourselves a little beach.

but remember, we are still in the most industrial part of an industrial city. from ships to trains in about 5 kms of what is actually a wonderful green space.

now, I have to walk back to my car…

where I have been not so busy with things that do not involve blogging

The cafe was nearly empty for most of the afternoon, which suited me just fine. Perhaps not so for the proprietors, so I went up and got another coffee and added a cinnamon bun to my order. Diet be damned. (I know, I could have had a salad, or a sandwich, but the bill in my pocket turned out to be only a $5) I had a book to read that I cannot put down and I enjoyed the peace. Stieg Larssons' The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo - highly recommend it, if you like mysteries and thrilling family sagas. It is at best, an exciting engrossing read and at worst, a confusing engrossing read. The family tree included has become the most thumbed page in the book.

I sometimes feel a twinge, when I slink past my local coffee house, the one I used to patronize at least twice weekly, to go to my new favourite coffee house. They are both friendly with very good coffee, but this other one has more of the comfy chairs and has many more bigger windows to let in the light. And it does seem a shame to leave my very bright, sunlit apartment to come sit in a dark cafe. I like to drink coffee out. It seems more sociable, even if I am alone. And I can get more writing done when I am out, for some reason. And today I had five postcards to get written. One day I will upload pics of the latest postcards I've received and share more of them with you.

Anyway, I walked past my LCH to come to the new favourite one that was so quiet yesterday. I walked in the door, out of the cold, and was met with a line up to the counter and not a seat to be spared! With a deep sigh, I turned, clutching my book, and walked back to LCH, where I was enthusiastically greeted by name. And where the overstuffed chair by the window sat empty, waiting for someone with a book that cannot be put down.

the pic above has nothing to do with this post, it is simply a lovely plant that a friend gave me and I promised to display it.

now, where were we?

What was I writing about before getting so distracted...
Oh yeah, New York's Central Park.

I left my place in a snowstorm and arrived in New York in balmy 38F sunshine. Of course, I'd been working all night and it was mid afternoon when I got in the airport bus to take me to the hotel. I was meeting an old friend whom I hadn't seen in years. She was actually a friend of a friend I had met while travelling in Belgium in 1979. I met her when I went to visit him in Australia in 1989. We had kept up a Christmas card correspondence ever since. This trip had been planned for months and I was simply going to see her for a couple of days during one of her layovers on those extensive round the world things that Australians do so well.

New York is only an hours flight away, and after a delay of two hours which involved snow clearing and de-icing, I got to the hotel she had booked for us and was prepared to check in and grab a bite to eat and wander around to get a feel for where we were in Midtown before she got in from Peru sometime after midnight. Fine. Except there was no booking for me, or her, at this hotel. Nothing. No help. Never heard of her.

With a heavy heart, and a heavy extra sweater and boots (remember the snowstorm?), I wander up and down the streets asking at EVERY hotel I came across, and there were quite simply, no vacancies. Long story short, I call my friend who likes to help and knows NYC very well and after a couple more hours I get a hotel room and I crash into bed watching the news that Heath Ledger has died. My luxury room on 56th St is now a basic room on 97th St. It is under renovations and the room has no view, but has at least a comfortable bed.

The next morning I get some maps and plan out my two days of solitary touring. I decide to do Midtown and Central Park the first day then head down to Soho and the East Village the next day. I walked and walked and walked. It was still so very warm for a late January day, and clear and almost windless. It wasn't quite dark yet when I thought I'd get something to eat and watch the skaters at Rockefeller Center before heading up to the top for the night view (because by then I was too tired to walk to the Empire State Building). I walked down Fifth Avenue, taking architectural pictures of the very expensive shops instead of actually shopping in them when suddenly I hear someone call out my name. In a very distinctive Australian accent. I turn around, and there is Fiona. She was coming out of some shop about a block away and saw me and followed awhile to make sure. We had not seen each other in almost 20 years. It took me a few moments to bring my jaw back up off the pavement where it had fallen open in shock. I used to be amazed (and slightly unbelieving) at how that Seinfeld gang used to run into each other in such a huge city. Now folks, I am here to tell you it is possible. On the street. On Fifth Avenue. At 5pm. (the point being rush hour, not the coincidence of the fives).

Turns out, her travel agent screwed up the dates, so a frantic phone call to her back in Australia, and a few hours later, (remember Heath Ledger has just died, so rooms are still filling up) she gets a room booked. An upgrade to a suite in a very swanky hotel in Soho.

We had a much shorter visit.

And in the meantime, I fell in love with New York.

best ever butter tart

Butter tarts are (that bit of dessert on the plate in the post below that is not fruit or yogurt or cheese or eggs) the most decadent of Canada's National Treasures. The act of eating one is almost a patriotic duty. As is the annual search for the best butter tart recipes and the inevitable arguments that follow. There are many subtle variations of this beloved dessert but by far the most contentious difference, beyond the amount of gooeiness, is the addition of raisins or pecans or walnuts. Sort of the same argument that exists with banana bread. I personally do not bake, butter tarts or any other desserts - preferring to buy mine and not having to deal with the ensuing cleanup. That may seem lazy to some, but I will happily drive to Dee's Bakery which makes "butter tarts to die for". Check out her website and see for yourself. You can place an order and people from as far away as Australia and England apparently do! Because these are only in Canada. Pity.

Or you could try this recipe I stole from the ever respected Marion Kane.

from CBC website
Q Food Sleuth Marion Kane tracks down one of Canada's most popular desserts and offers this recipe for the best ever butter tart.
Adapted from The Complete Canadian Living Cookbook (Random House), this produces the best homemade butter tart I've tried: flaky, melt-in-the mouth pastry with a gooey but not too runny filling. And they're a cinch to make. - Marion Kane

Use proper baking method for dry ingredients: measuring scoops or spoons and a knife to slice off the top, not a measuring cup. You can make dough in a food processor instead of by hand. I found a 28-oz/796-mL can works perfectly for cutting it into rounds. Add raisins or coarsely chopped pecans, if desired. (Violet has tasted butter tarts with dried cranberries instead of raisins, interesting added flavour)

1½ cups all-purpose flour
Pinch of salt¼ cup cold butter, cubed
¼ cup cold lard or vegetable shortening, cubed
I large egg yolk
I tsp white vinegar
¼ cup ice-cold water

Filling:
½ cup packed dark brown sugar
½ cup maple (or golden corn) syrup
1 large egg
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp lemon juice
2 tbsp softened butter
Pinch of salt
¼ to ½ cup raisins
Preheat oven to 375F.

For dough, combine flour and salt in large bowl. Using old-fashioned wire pastry cutter or two knives, cut in butter and lard until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Using fork, stir in egg yolk, lemon and water until dough holds together. Wrap; refrigerate at least 1 hour.

If using raisins, plump them up by covering with boiling water while preparing the rest of the filling.

For filling, vigorously whisk together all ingredients except raisins in medium bowl until combined. (This can be done in food processor.)

Roll out dough on lightly floured surface until fairly but not too thin. Using 4" round cookie cutter or empty 28-oz can, cut into 12 rounds to fit 3" cups of muffin tin. Divide raisins between each pastry shell; spoon on filling.

Bake in oven 15 to 18 minutes or until pastry is golden brown. Cool in pan about 2 minutes. Run knife or small metal spatula around edge of each tart; transfer to wire rack to cool completely.

Makes 12 butter tarts.

Eat with care ... and remember it is always better to share!

update on update of N7W

After my update on yesterday's post, Geewits asked about the disqualification of Dinosaur National Park in Drumheller Alberta from the New 7 Wonders of Nature. At the time I thought it seemed odd that it was cut for "not meeting contest requirements". I read that it hadn't competed enough in the international voting. Nope, didn't understand that either. But not being a very good investigative journalist, I let it slide by and rejoiced in the re-entry of New Brunswick's Bay of Fundy - who immediately reignited a massive campaign which included twitter, facebook, a blog, numerous ads...

Alberta Tourism Parks and Recreation said "The reason they gave us was that expectations were different from our end than there was on theirs of what was involved in the competition."
[A] spokeswoman for the Swiss-based non-profit organization, told the Calgary Herald from Belgium the Alberta park didn't make the cut because, well, there's not much to do there.
"What happened is that they couldn't fulfill some of the requirements we needed, and it had to do with activities that people could engage in," she said.
-from Calgary Herald June 18, 2009

This sounds a little strange to me - a natural wonder not dependent on man made entertainment, and it is disqualified for lacking things to do. What is there 'to do' at Uluru? Sure you can hike there, and climb the rock - can you still climb the rock? What about those atolls in the middle of the Pacific?

Anyway, the Bay of Fundy is not lacking. It is home to a variety of unique marine species and serves as the summer feeding area for half the world’s population of endangered North Atlantic right whales and 12 other whale species. There are fossils galore, and it is a UNESCO World Heritage Site as as biosphere reserve.

So, there is whale watching, birding, and hanging out on the water in sailboats, canoes, kayaks, or swimming. There are cruises and whale watching tours. There are the fossil cliffs to see. And that amazing tide.

See here for more about the tide and the Bay of Fundy.

'the cottage'

Thanksgiving 1981?

Fred and the infamous outhouse

and a bonus - a pair of glasses!!

behind me is the built in shelves

where I can see evidence of my younger self

Whew. Found the commemorative magazine supplement. I was wrong about the size of the crowd photo at Dam Square, and am now not sure if Gerrit, our Dutch friend, was even there with us. He may just have known that we went. So, because Geewits asked...




















There we are - can you see me? In the bottom right ^ corner. I've long blonde hair, wearing what looks like an orangey jacket. There is a young, skinny, bearded man in a brown suede jacket looking up - that's Allen. Don't know who those other 1,996 people are.