reading

There was news this week of another independent bookstore closing. This particular one is the oldest indie bookseller (45 years) in the city. They are not necessarily closing because of poor sales or lack of customers, but mostly because of the dramatic increase in rent. This could be seen as a good thing, in that the city is thriving and neighbourhoods are becoming prosperous, but it is also a bad thing because only big name chain stores can afford these higher rents, so the local shops close up and the flavour of the neighbourhood becomes a little less interesting.

But books and bookstores are thriving.

If there were a theme to our family Christmas presents, it would have to be books. Every one of us received at least one book, some more than one. No kindles or kobos or e-readers for my family, we are all about the old fashioned, physical turning of the pages. We exchanged books not only for reading, but also for writing and for drawing. I will have to start journaling again in my pretty notebook, something that went by the wayside once I started blogging.

I was frantically trying to finish one book I had bought as a present, until I realized I was enjoying it so much that I wanted my own copy. Books are always fun to give to people. It is, in a way, my default gift, but not always because I can't think of anything else. In a strange way, it feels more personal to buy someone a book, more like sharing a bit of yourself. Sometimes, it is a book that I have read and loved and want others to experience. Sometimes, it is one that I have come across and think that a certain person might enjoy. I don't think I have ever been disappointed in getting a book as a gift. I have been introduced to authors I'd not heard of, and to ones I thought I wouldn't like. I once received a book that I waited three years to read - it took that long before I was desperate enough interested in it. Still, I kept it on my shelf, always thinking that one day I might pick it up even though a voice in the back of my mind said "but you don't like Stephen King". I discovered, maybe I did, after all.

This year I got an anthology of short stories. It is perfect for leaving in the car for emergency reading. I like to have something in hand when sitting in a restaurant on my own and a novel is too long and sometimes too engrossing; it can be hard to find the right spot for a break. But a short story is perfect for holding one's attention for just long enough. And this book is a collection of new writers, so every story is a true surprise. The other book I got was the darling of the literary world in 2011, The Sisters Brothers. Up for numerous awards and given gallons of praise by every reviewer, but somehow, something about it just didn't appeal. So I never bothered with it and had no intentions of reading it. But since I now have it in my possession, I decided to look through it before rearranging my shelves to make it fit. Haven't been able to put it down for the past two days. It is different. Definitely a unique style. And a darkly funny, offbeat western about a reluctant outlaw and his murderous brother. 

I have discovered a new side to myself.

2,913,260,663

So, the world as we know it has now got 7 billion people living in it.

Actually, the world as I know it is much smaller. And much less populated.

We, in my small corner of the world, complain repeatedly and wistfully, about the new developments going up and the increasing number of people who keep moving in on our patch of paradise and changing it forever.

But in reality, it is nothing compared to so many other places in the world. Places like Shenzhen, China where the population has risen from around 352,000 to 10,358,000 in the last 30 years. 10 million people have moved into that area in three decades! There is only 13 million people in all of Ontario, give or take a few thousand and though most of them live in the southern bit and many in the Golden Horseshoe where I live, it really does not feel all that crowded. Even with all the new condos going up everywhere (apparently Toronto is the king of condo builders in North America) we still have space around us and apparently "places to grow".

taken while stuck in traffic exiting at the single lane Spadina off ramp of the expressway into the entertainment district.

I love that Douglas Coupland canoe looking out over the Gardiner and towards the lake from where once a river flowed...

On a website, which you can find here, you can place yourself in amongst these 7 billion people inhabiting our world. According to my birthdate, I rank as the  2,913,260,663 person alive on my birthdate and the 76,452,309,015th person to have lived since history began.

lows

There is a massive storm on the way here. So the weather channel and the news people keep warning us, every minute of the day for the last two days. This one is coming at us from Texas. Extremely dangerous weather. A very powerful low. The worst storm in years. The grocery stores were packed with people yesterday, stocking up. The morning traffic guy is in an early panic - "it's already started to snow".

I guess that will keep me indoors trying to understand this new computer. So far, I'm not enjoying it. I want my old familiar PC back. Am I the only one? It is so very disappointing. This is a much steeper learning curve than Apple leads you to believe. But, I took the $99 one-to-one option so that the friendly blue shirted employees could teach me, and spread their love of all things Apple. It is incredible how excited the staff are for me. They are all so happy, "oh, you are going to love using it". You should have seen the look on the blue shirted one's face when we were booking the next tutorial and I whipped out my Moleskine appointment book and pen (and I was asked - pointlessly, surely - once again, "do you have an iphone?" No.)

I do love the lack of cables and wires. And the thinness of everything. The wireless mouse and keyboard is rather cool, even if the idea of wireless still messes up my head. But the keyboard is so small that I keep hitting the cAPS lock key. And I will sorely miss the numbers keypad when I go to do my accounting. And I haven't figured out how to upload photos properly yet. And where is the 'save' option?? And what happened to the 'right click'?? And, aND... Okay, it will all come together soon. I will learn to love my Mac. I will.

And the good news? I don't have to shovel any driveways.

nature is the glass

The weekend road trips continue. There's nothing like planning a drive through the scenic Finger Lakes region, only to have it rain the whole weekend. (doesn't it always rain when I go away somewhere??)
For those not familiar,
they are called the Finger Lakes because they look like this

So it was a good thing the Corning Museum of Glass was such an amazingly wonderful distraction. I was almost glad of the rain so I didn't feel torn between getting outside and hiking acres of hills and staying inside and looking at acres of glass.

Okay, actually, the museum was the main focus of this trip with a little hiking at Seneca Lake to be the bonus. The museum turned out to be the bonus. It has to be the best themed museum in the world. The website says to plan about 2-3 hours for your tour. That is very misleading - you will need 2-3 days. Seriously. You would need 2-3 hours just to peruse the gift shop (even if you don't plan to buy anything).

The Museum

I think my jaw dropped as soon as I saw the building and getting inside, it dropped a little more.

The Studio

Usually, with any visit to a gallery or museum, after a couple of hours, I feel too overstimulated to take any more in. So, you might think a museum with just glass in it might get a little ... boring, or "look, more glass". Not at all. I started at around 2pm and stayed until 7:30 with an hour or so to check into the hotel. Then I went back the next day (your ticket is good for two days and teens and kids are free) and stayed from 9am until it closed at 8pm. Then, I went back for more on Monday (afterall, you don't have to pay to get into the giftshops or the cafes). If you do get a little tired of the glass, or just need a change, there is a free shuttle bus to the historic Market St in the town of Corning. It is an architourist's dream.

There are interactive displays, tours, demos, special collections, discussions, history, science and art. There are hands on classes you can take and make your own glass. The glassblowing demonstrations are full of wow factor and heat and interesting facts and a rather large bowl or vase or plate at the end of 15 minutes (and a raffle after the last one of the day. I didn't win either time). Every demonstration was different enough that I learned something new at each of the five or six demos I went to.

I didn't even bother trying to get pictures of the glass (okay, maybe I did try a couple of times) but it is notoriously difficult to photograph glass, espcially glass that sits on glass shelves inside glass cases with lots of bright lights shining on it. So I bought a book.


the works of one man, Frederick Carder

a table with a huge ship on it. for what purpose, I know not.

this mosaic has thousands of tiny pieces of glass
(this is only 1/3 of it)


I was thinking of this blog post, so took some photos during the glassblowing demonstration.

a small amount of this molten glass goes on this blowing rod. it is easier to blow the glass than a balloon (so they say)

you must always keep turning the rod, or gravity will deform the glass

into the fire, many times, in order to keep the temperature of the glass high so it can be shaped. the oven is about 2100 degrees. you could feel the heat from 15 rows away

an assistant gets another rod with molten glass and together they attach it to make a base. later another hot rod will be attached to this base and the glass will be cut awayfrom the first rod, then quickly back into the fire to reheat. it is spun around so that it expands and the top of the bowl can be shaped.

in this case, he is making a bowl that resembles a handkerchief (not the same bowl as above)

et voilà! it is snipped off and will now go into a cooling oven for several hours


I could go again next week and probably still be as impressed as the first time.

frescoes

One day, as I was driving down a street I had driven along many times before, the light from the late afternoon glinted off a church cross and I noticed a certain glow from the front. So, of course, I had to go around the block and take some pictures.



I was vaguely aware of this church, but I really hadn't paid much attention to it until I saw the sun glinting off the mosaic.

I wrote down the name.
St Nicholas Serbian Eastern Orthodox Church.

A little research and I have been excitedly awaiting an opportunity to see inside.

That chance came this past weekend with Doors Open (where public buildings, and often many churches, open their doors for a free look and wander and a bit of history sharing).

An icon altar. An elaborate wall of icons separates the nave from the sanctuary.


The church walls and ceiling have been richly painted with frescoes.
These include images of biblical stories, the great feasts of the church and the lives of Christ, the Virgin Mary and the saints. Many, many saints.

All of this work was painstakingly painted, layer upon layer, by one man. It took him over three years to complete. Services were still held during this period, and the young woman I talked to spoke of the shock and awe each week as the previously unadorned white walled church was transformed.


No pews were moved out of the way, as the congregants stand for the entire service, which lasts from 90 minutes to 2 hours. And is all in Serbian - not the modern day Serbian, either. There is also no organ and all singing is a capella (and sometimes, in English).
I'd be almost tempted to return ... but my Serbian is non existent. And I'm not great at standing. And I know, I'd end up dizzy from looking up at that ceiling.

time for a pause

Really? You all want a pier?

Judging by your unbridled enthusiasm, it does make me wonder what sort of image you all have in your heads of what a pier, in an industrial city, in Ontario, in March, might be like.

I had my appointment at the gym with my personal trainer who, after making me do one too many reps of abdominal exercises, said that if I was going for a long walk then she wouldn't make me go on the elliptical machine. Great. I had a free afternoon and with the dire weather report of a vernal equinox timed end to this record breaking warm spring-like weather running through my head, I headed out to the waterfront. Just for you.

But, you will have to wait until I sort through the pictures.

In the meantime, I will tell you about this.

I was at the flower show on Thursday and wandering through the marketplace section, looking for free samples new and interesting things, when I came across a tea merchant stall. Ever since I taste tested fresh, exotic, blended loose leaf teas, I have been unwilling to go back to the store brands. Last summer I was introduced to Yerba Mate tea. It has more antioxidants than green tea and has many health benefits. But mostly, I liked the taste.


But then I saw the display of gourds and metal straws, I immediately thought of Betty in Paraguay. Betty had casually mentioned in her blog about having tereré. Then she had to explain what it was, which you can read here. (Or you can check the link above for Yerba Mate).

Anyway, I thought this was pretty neat to learn about the South American way of drinking this tea out of a gourd with a straw (bombilla) last week, then to actually find them. And I love meeting people who are so excited about their product. He happily opened as many jars of tea to let me smell as I wished all the while sharing information about the flavours and differences and benefits. And he was excited that I had just learned a little about these strange cups.

It was just too interesting to pass up, so I had to buy one. I was instructed how to 'season' the gourd (fill with hot water and let it sit overnight), how to fill the gourd with the tea leaves and how to drink from the metal straw. That metal straw had me a little worried.

I bought a Mango Yerba Mate and a Lemon Rooibos tea to try. One teaspoon into the cup. Fill with hot water. Let it sit - keeping the metal straw out of the hot water!
My gourd has been seasoned and the tea steeped...


It is difficult to get around the idea of drinking something hot through a straw. This is not meant for fast consumption, but for savouring.

The straw makes for a more intense flavour.
Almost in the same way that drinking through the little hole in the takeout cup lids will do.

This might take a bit of getting used to.
I wish I had a bigger gourd...

All in all, my life is pretty good. I really have few things to complain about, although I do.
And it all seems so petty, the things I find irritating.

Really, I have a home and easy transportation to wherever I want to go.
I have a job - actually I have 3 jobs.
I have enough money to buy food that is plentiful and within a very short distance.
I have more water at my disposal than I could ever possibly use.
I do not need to share my home with several other people.
I do not even need to share a toilet with several other people.
I have a toilet.
I am healthy and have few real fears for my health and safety.
If I get tired of this life I could change it.

So many people do not even have these basics.

I found out about this on Worldman's blog.
On August 19, 2009 is the inaugural World Humanitarian Day
This link will take you to the UN office for the Co-ordination of Humanitarian Affairs.
It is not happy reading, but you will learn much about the world we share.

On 19 August and for the first time, the international community will pay tribute to the brave humanitarian workers who devote their time and energy to come to the rescue of innocent victims of war and natural catastrophes across the world. The family of Sergio Vieira de Mello, the late Special Representative of the Secretary General in Iraq, deeply moved by the tragic bombing of the Headquarters of United Nations in Baghdad on 19th August 2003 that killed Sergio and 21 of his humanitarian colleagues, resolved to work towards having the day recognized as a befitting tribute to all humanitarian personnel.

~Sergio Vieira de Mello Foundation

where I disappear into a book

Our high school librarian was a charm. We were in admiration of her skills. Not only was she young and very personable, she knew everybody by name. She also somehow knew which class you were skipping if you turned up at an 'odd' hour, or lingered too long. This was not a small school, we were over 2,000 students. But if you asked her about a book for a class, she could probably remember who had it and when it was due back. She was our Katharine Hepburn of Desk Set.

I am reminded of her, and many independent booksellers, when I ask for a book in Chapters or Indigo. Where the staff will immediately walk to a computer terminal to look up the title/author and if you don't remember it, well, it could be a fruitless search with you being ultimately led in the general direction of where you might find your request. My favourite booksellers are the ones who can decipher a "I read a review in the Globe about something about (insert semi-remembered description)" or "I heard a book review on CBC on Sunday..." and they know what you are talking about. These people love books. They breathe books.

I used to buy a lot of books. The cost has made buying sprees a bit more prohibitive than in the past. And I've never bought anything from Amazon. I'm more of a browser. Put me in a room with shelves of books, and I can't help myself. I twist my head to read the spines, I pull interesting book titles down, I fondle covers, I flip pages. I sniff books. There is something about the musty smell of old books that is comforting. And also the still strong ink and paper smells of newly printed pages. To be the first to open a book and begin reading... and to open an old book, especially one of prose or poetry, and have it fall open at a favourite passage of the previous owner, is a silent thrill of discovery. I have discovered great new reads that would never have occurred to me just by being attracted to a title, the first paragraph, a description on the cover flap. And I've even judged a book by its cover. I have not bought books that didn't feel right. I used to have small collections of books that had different covers, because the idea intrigued me of other artists renderings of the tale. If I start a series, I have to buy the rest in the series until it is complete, or it will irritate me, even if I didn't particularly like the third book, or whatever. A teeny, tiny bit of OCD.
A friend and I share books regularly, she more than me, because, I couldn't tell you the last time I read a book in its entirety. I have piles of them gathering dust by my bed. The cat uses them as a stepping stool to get herself up on the mattress (she's a bit lazy, why jump when you can risk falling by climbing). Still, I went to the library last week and came home with several books to rekindle my reading habits.
Which is why I haven't been around as much, or posting as much.
And from the book store, a new release, Sandra Gulland and her tale of 'Louise de la Valliere, the young equestrienne who won the heart of France's charismatic Sun King'.

I have coffee waiting at my favourite coffee house and my book to read so, later......

in honour of National Library Week.

lacing up

My hiking boots were needing some less bedraggled laces and I knew I had some in a junk drawer. So I dug them out and unleashed them from the package to discover they must have been about 8' long*. Really, I must either start reading the labels better, or get around to learning just how long a mm is (it's been over 30 years since we went metric, I've had the time, I'm sure...)

Not wanting to waste them, even if they did likely come from the dollar store, I set about figuring a way to use them. Without tripping over the ends. Somewhere in my bookmarks, I had a site for shoelace designs. Creativity was beckoning me. In small measures.

I am usually pretty lazy when it comes to lacing up my shoes, and can be quite dyslexic enough just with the usual criss cross - I have been known to cross criss halfway up. But these lacing patterns just look so cool, I thought I should challenge my dexterity.






for more interesting lacing patterns see sneaker freaker
these were my favourites.
*yes, I've been known to exaggerate