Last weekend, blueberries were on sale at the grocery store, three packages for $4. They’re not the tiny, wild blueberries of my youth that we picked in the wilds of New Brunswick while visiting my dad’s family, but they were pretty good nonetheless. I spent most of the week eating one package just as-is, in yogurt or in salads. Yesterday morning, I made the second package into blueberry muffins – they’re pretty good, and I’m going to throw a bunch in the freezer for later. And right now I’ve got a peach blueberry crisp in the oven for later tonight. Sadly, they weren’t on sale this week, and I’m thinking I should have got more last weekend (and froze what I didn’t use).

Today I made bread. It’s a recipe from the cookbook More Food That Really Schmecks ¹ I made the same recipe a few weeks ago and tweeted about it, prompting Dr. Beth to ask for the recipe. It’s a good basic bread recipe, and if you can get your hands on a copy of the cookbook I would strongly recommend it². Today I decided to mix things up a little – I added 2 tablespoons of flax seed, 4 tablespoons of wheat germ³ and about half a cup of sunflower seeds. Instead of using all unbleached flour, I used about half unbleached, half whole wheat. Granted, there’s no one else here to confirm this, but it smells and looks pretty good.

And now I’m off to peel some sweet potatoes for supper. I’m throwing them on the BBQ with tandori chicken that’s been marinating since last night.

As well, yesterday I had quite a time editing and uploading some pictures to Ravelry – I’d taken them, I’d edited them, and they only needed uploading. But for some reason the file format wasn’t being recognized, which meant re-editing all 40 or so photos. What was supposed to be a relaxing evening updating my stash turned into a hair-pulling exercise and several rants about Gimp.

To make having to work on a Saturday more palatable, and to do some activity that might bring me some contentment, I declared that I would bring in cupcakes the next day. Because who doesn’t love them some cupcakes? Stephen Harper supporters, that’s who! ²

So, with purpose and determination, I came home, had supper and got to work. The first thing I saw when I got in was some week old bananas that needed to be turned into something delicious. Chocolate chip banana muffins – perfect! ³ Now what? Carrots! I got some carrots at the farmer’s market last weekend, let’s make carrot cake cupcakes with cream cheese icing! And what else? What about chocolate cupcakes with caramel icing? Only CHILDREN who support Stephen Harper don’t like chocolate cupcakes!

Then I looked around, specifically at my sugar. And flour. And eggs. How is it possible that I’m low or almost out of ALL of them AT THE SAME TIME, when I most definitely need them? And what’s worse is that I only had enough paper liners for the muffins. GAH!

I hope the staff like their stupid chocolate chip banana muffins and their stupid carrot cake IN A PAN with stupid cream cheese icing. I’m going to be over here sulking while I lick the bowls.

It’s a cool evening – some might even call it cold. Close the windows almost all the way but leave them open a little so you can still get some fresh air. But don’t have enough blankets on the bed so you’re still chilly. Huddle up with the cat under the covers and eventually drop off to sleep.

Wake up in the middle of the night and hear a rustling noise. Figure that it must be windy outside and it’s just the sound of the leaves in the trees.

A few minutes later, hear a thud-THUD sound. Figure that it must be the cat jumping off the table or the counter (and make a note to scold him about it later), but realize the cat is still next to you so that can’t be it. Ponder this development for a few moments.

Before you’ve come to any firm conclusion (or at least one firm enough to help you get back to sleep), hear the sound of footsteps and realize that someone is in the house. Freak out a little, but quietly. Try to figure out where the phone is and if you can reach it from your current position. Remember that if you pick up the extension upstairs, the light on the phone upstairs goes on so whoever is down there will know that someone is awake upstairs and it could end very badly. Hope that they leave soon (and spare a rather random regret that you haven’t backed up your laptop lately because surely they’re going to take that, but silently smirk because the laptop is almost 5 years old and making bad noises, so they’re getting a lemon.)

Suddenly, the hall light comes on, and you hear footsteps on the stairs. Start panicking in earnest, and start tossing and turning. Maybe whoever it is doesn’t realize there’s anyone home, so make enough noise to make it sound like there really is someone home but they’re not awake yet.

Realize it’s not working because the intruder is at the top of the stairs and is now coming down the hall. And now they are outside your room.

Consider your options. First on the list: is this a dream? If so, can you wake yourself up? Try that.

Wake up, laying in the same position you were when you fell asleep, which is the same position you were laying in the dream. Have an attack of the willies and realize you’re not getting back to sleep tonight.

After, I started flipping through it, looking back at past years. There were quite a few books I’d forgotten about, a lot that I had remembered the plot to but couldn’t remember the title, and more than a few I think I want to re-read at some point. Other things, like why I had written “lupus?” in the margin beside Gil Adamson’s Outlander or where exactly did the quote about the head in the jar come from¹ and which title-less Suzanne Brockmann book was I referring to when I wrote “almost as good as Troubleshooters books”², puzzle me. And then there are all the different pens, the handwriting, short vs. long descriptions, funny comments – basically, it was a big long trip down memory lane.

But then I got to 2009. Sad, neglected 2009. I only managed to chronicle about half the year, and there are a couple of post-it notes with acronyms I can assume are the titles of books which I intended to memorialize, but never did. There are books I am certain I read last year but aren’t there, and it makes me sad that I didn’t record them and some of them are most certainly lost to me now.

This has given me a renewed sense of responsibility to keep up with my book chronicling. I did a little at the beginning of the year, and now that I remember how important it is to me, how important it is to remember what I have read, I will be more diligent in recording my reading habits.

I’ve been a member of the guild for almost three years now, and it’s been a fabulous experience. The people in the group have taught me so much, and have been encouraging of everyone’s endeavors. I’ve been challenged to try new things and tackle harder projects, and it’s been rewarding. With their support, I’ve made five pairs of socks in the past two years ¹ and become the go-to person for knitting toe-up socks, started knitting lace ², and have gained mad stranded colourwork skillz. For example, this is a pair of mittens I designed and made my sister for Christmas (which I gave her in February and are being modeled by my mother in this picture):

³

I would just like to say thanks guys, and next year I’m absolutely going to book this Saturday off!

1. Pump it Up – Elvis Costello. I’m pretty sure this was a suggestion. Besides, how have I made it this far without having this song in my collection? (There was also a version by Danko Jones in iTunes. Good, but not better than the original.)

2. Little Secrets – Passion Pit. This was going to be the axis around which all the other songs spun. I can listen to this song on constant repeat and not get bored of it.

3. El Scorcho – Weezer. I feel like I know exactly what they’re singing about. I’ve been the person doing the pleading, while being simultaneously exasperated with the person in question, and hating myself for being in that situation ONCE AGAIN.

Ahem. Moving on…

4. Make Me – Janet Jackson. You know those times when you don’t want to clean the kitchen, or the laundry is piling up but you don’t want to do it. Or sweeping – ugh, sweeping. Put this song on, and just dance through the housework.

5. Dancing in the Moonlight – Toploader. This song is unrelentingly, almost agressively, cheerful. Another good song for doing housework. Or, you know, cruising around while blaring the stereo.

6. Tightrope (feat. Big Boi) – Janelle Monae. Thank you CBC2 for bringing this to my attention one morning a few weeks ago.

7. Steal My Sunshine – Len. No, I did not get sick of this song during the early 00′s. Okay, maybe I did, but when I heard it the other week I didn’t realize that I’d sort of missed it.

8. Someday Baby – R.L. Burnside. This was in one of my wish lists, and I have no idea how long it had been there, or even who had recommended it. Bluesy, funky, kind of awesome, really.

This is it, so far. At least until I find that damn list.

Last year, the gym I go to replaced all of the old equipment with bright shiny new machines that had TVs attached to them. This has its drawbacks (we are all working out together in isolation), but there are many benefits to this as well. One is that you can watch whatever you want without inconveniencing anyone else.

From what I’ve observed in the several months that we’ve had them, men in general watch mostly sports or CNN, young women watch MuchMusic, MTV or Slice, and older women watch HGTV, FoodTV or Diva. However, the one channel almost everyone has in common is TLC.

One afternoon a few weeks ago, I went to my usual machine, started my routine and then began to flip channels until I settled on something I wanted to watch for the duration of my workout. After a while, I look around to see what everyone else is watching, since it was mostly women in the gym at that time. The vast majority of them were watching “Say Yes To The Dress” ¹, while a few were watching the news. And what had I settled on?

The Empire Strikes Back. NEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRDDDDD!

While this normally wouldn’t have been celebratory news in the past, merely part of a monthly update, I’ve been reading a lot less physical books lately. I totally blame the general increase in the amount of knitting I do; whenever I have a few minutes or am waiting in line, I’m more likely to whip out one of the many socks or mittens I’ve got on the go as opposed to an actual book.

It’s a cyclical thing, too. Sometimes it’s hard to find anything good to read or that captures my attention. February through April were dry months for me, in terms of finding something to stick with. I started several, and tossed them back after only a few chapters. This one that I just finished almost got tossed back, but I stuck with it – it was a fantasy novel, set in present day London, about a sorcerer who has been reincarnated. My library has the sequel, but I can’t find it on the shelf (probably due to just not looking carefully, likely due to it being checked out already). I’d put a hold on it, but I have another stack of TBRs waiting to audition.

Backstory: like a lot of kids, during the summer I played soccer. Probably like a lot of kids, I didn’t find it to be a particularly enjoyable experience. I don’t know if I was good at it – for most of my time playing it, I played halfback, which is the line that picks up the slack for the forwards and acts as early defense for the fullbacks (or, the last line before the goalie). For the last year or two, I spent part of the time at halfback, part of the time in goal. Most of the time, I believed that I was no good at at the game, and that I was messing it up for everyone else.

One year in particular helped reinforce this (perhaps mistaken) belief. That was the year that the house league team I was on was also the elite team for the area, meaning we had to do a lot of traveling to tournaments. During house league games, I might play for half the game, but only if we were ahead or playing a weaker team; at tournaments, I’d be lucky to play ten minutes all weekend. What it said to me was “you’re not good enough to play, but we’re stuck with you because there was no other team to put you on.”

It sucked – HARD – to know that my parents had had to spend the weekend traveling and staying in hotels so that I could go to a tournament that I knew I had no chance of playing in, unless everyone ahead of me got injured or that we were blowing the other team out of the water. The team won – a lot – but I never had anything to do with the outcomes.

To this day, I still don’t like team sports for the same reason: I feel like if I’m not playing really well, then I’m letting everyone else down. I don’t even like group activities, which is why I stopped going to the running class, why I don’t go to fitness classes, and why I haven’t joined the Ultimate Frisbee team a friend invited me to a few years ago. I still go to the gym, but prefer solitary activities.

(There is one sport I enjoyed: fencing. I started in the first year of my undergrad and did it almost until my last year. If it hadn’t been for some pretty serious injuries in important bits (like, by back, ankles and wrist) I would have continued with it. Sure, there’s a team component, but when you’re on piste, there’s only you and your opponent – no one else to let down.)

Back to soccer… some of it probably had to do with the fact I was painfully shy and not very competitive. My excuse now is that I’m basically an introvert who prefers to do things on my own than with others. I won’t say that I’ll never participate in team sports ever again, but it’s going to have to be a compelling reason to end my self-imposed ban.

On the other hand, sometimes the end of the day comes really fast, and you’re not ready for it. Or you sat down to write and got distracted by Facebook or Twitter or YouTube or something, and then you realize that you are actually really tired and don’t have anything prepared to say, but you’ve got to say SOMEthing because it’s almost midnight, and didn’t you say something about trying to post every day? Oh wait, yes you did.

I realize I skipped last night. It was almost midnight, I was brushing my teeth and admiring the new and interesting shade of purple that the bags under my eyes have taken on, when it struck me I hadn’t posted. I did a really quick, almost throw-away post the previous night when the SAME THING happened, but I couldn’t bring myself to do the same thing last night. Ahhh… blogging about the frequency of your posting and blogging about how you have nothing to blog about. I’m pretty sure I broke two fundamental blogging laws, there. ¹

Anyways… tomorrow will be the first day that I can watch the World Cup live and not live through everyone else’s Twitter updates. Slovenia/Algeria would be interesting to watch, but I’m aiming for Bosnia/Ghana, and Germany/Australia later in the day. (Originally, I’d planned to post about my soccer experience in my youth, but then, Facebook and Twitter and YouTube and something else got in the way.)