Photos – Page 10 – Rant and Roll

A peep through the curtains

Good morrow friends!

Well that weekend absolutely flew by.

M and I keep saying that one of these days we are going to have a laid back, solitary fin de semain – but until that day, we seem to just jam pack our Saturdays and Sundays with as much activity as humanly possible.

On Friday night I made a massive batch of mint pea soup, and parmesan toast and just barely managed break away from the beckoning comfort of my pajamas and the cozy heat of the fireplace, and instead ventured out into the rain to meet up with a bunch of M’s colleagues.

Two of them play in a ridiculously awesome surf band, so we enjoyed a drink (stout for M, white wine for me) and listened to the sweet sounds of what can only be described as a live rendition of a Quentin Tarantino soundtrack.

(Which, to be honest, is pretty the only way I can stand Tarantino – his music, or otherwise.)

The rest of the weekend was a blur of house hunting, runs in the rain, meet ups with friends, runs in the sun, pumpkin carving, shopping for birthday presents, family dinners, and a couple of episodes of Top Gear, just to keep things fresh.

Phew.

At one point this weekend, conversation turned to bucket lists, and I began to ponder what events or achievements I may choose to populate my own list.

Without spending copious amounts of time thinking it over, I did come across three things that I would really like to achieve within the next year.

They include:

1.) Dying my hair blonde. This was only further exacerbated by my friend Tracy’s e-mail which read:

Wow, imagine you a blondie!!! Doooo it! It would look so hot :) And it’s just fun to muck around with hair colour.

I cannot argue with this logic.

2.) Run a half-marathon in under 1:30:00, a 10km in under 40:00, and just run a marathon PERIOD.

3.) Send at least five separate pieces of writing to publications in the aim of getting them published.

It’s good to have goals right? And now that they are out here in the interwebs, there’s no going back. I expect all of you brilliant chaps to keep me to my word, okay?

No faffing around allowed.

In the interim, let’s have a dance why don’t we?

Aaaaaaaaand SNAPS:

2012-10-19 18.27.43 — Paddington Bear coat.

2012-10-12 18.54.20 — Homemade pasta and garlic bread.

2012-10-28 18.05.53 — Amazing veggie burger.

What did you cats get up to this weekend?

And what’s on your bucket list (yearly, or lifetime?)

And if you’re looking for a hair dying partner in crime, well then, I’m your gal.

A year of ranting and rolling

Can you believe it?

One hundred and eighty-odd posts later and here we are – looking back on a year of blogging.

I started Rant and Roll because I love to write and because I am easily destroyed by issues that either break my heart or force steam out of my ears.

My amazing friend Sherie encouraged me to write down my rants, mostly due to the fact that she would absolutely kill herself laughing any time I was on the warpath, orating and gesticulating widely (like the modern day – severely pissed off – Pericles that I can be.)

And so I did.

At first all of my posts really were rants – calling out injustices, lamenting social ills, and waxing long on my huge beef with institutionalized sexism.

549734_10152091870115179_259813421_n — Pfft. If it’s not cutting at least 50 lbs, I can’t even be bothered.

But then, little, by little, my small corner of the internet began to evolve.

Sure, I still wrote about issues near and dear to my heart (I don’t think I could stop even if I tried.)

However, I also started to write about other things – my relationship with the brilliant man whom I share my heart and home; our kitty cat who rules the roost; and my travels both near and far, new and old.

2012-09-24 18.16.49 — Ms. Nymeria cuddling with Mr. M.

I began sharing pieces of fiction and poems.

My tricky relationship with the fashion industry has been well documented (as have the very good and very bad pieces I’ve stumbled across whilst playing dress-up on my lunch breaks.)

I’ve written about my past struggles with eating disorders and an experience from my youth that has left me scarred, but not broken.

I’ve written about my rocky relationship with hockey and my slow-building courtship with soccer.

In April I was Freshly Pressed and it was pretty much the COOLEST THING EVER.

There were days that I was so tired coming home from work that I cried.

But I also drooled on the metro.

I made pea soup and I cooked breakfast for dinner.

I hiked a mountain in California, and came third in my third ever half-marathon.

I was a Tough Mudder.

2012-06-23 12.17.20 — All that mud covered a crap load of bruises and cuts!

I took on the “I don’t watch TV” crowd.

I laughed a lot.

It has been simply smashing.

So what have I learned from this brilliant experience? What do I take away from three hundred and sixty-five days of blogging?

Well, the first thing is that I am darn proud of my little R&R.

On day one I swore to myself that I would write three times a week, no excuses.

At first it was hard – I wanted each piece to be INTELLIGENT, and THOUGHT PROVOKING.

CIMG7794 — High brow or die! FIRE AT WILL COMMANDER.

But then I just started to sit back and let it flow. I made sure not to force any one post into being something that it wasn’t – that it couldn’t be.

Looking back, there were some weeks where I wrote four, even five posts – not because I felt like I had to, but because I was inspired, and passionate, and excited, and so so happy to feel my fingers a-tap-tapping, flying across the keyboard, just trying to keep up to the pace of my frantic thoughts that were just spilling out of my head, onto the desk, and all over the floor.

I’ve learned that pictures and media are a good way of adding colour to your blog (no pun intended).

CIMG8829 — Palm trees at night, a visual delight.

(Or just to drive home the point of how truly bonkers you really are.)

I’ve learned that spam bots will leave comments that leave me breathless from laughter, and that real life people will leave comments that melt my heart into a puddle of mush.

(This is a good thing.)

But it the end, what I first and foremost take away from this crazy year of blogging is the opportunity to make my way through the remarkable WordPress community, read some outstanding blogs, and get to know some truly phenomenal people.

To all of my brilliant and beautiful blog friends, I wouldn’t want to do this without you.

You make me laugh at your fantastic wit.

You make me cry with your profound prose.

You make me fall in love with your children and your pets.

You make me jealous of all your amazing fashion pieces, and your delicate eyes for mixing and patching different patterns and palates.

You make me run faster, and work out harder.

You make me marvel at your art, your photography, your writing.

You make me want to be a better blogger.

You make me want to be better.

So thank you. Thank you all.

Here’s to another year of blogging.

So everyone buckle up – here come the terrible twos.

Beautiful British Columbia: Welcome to Octogust

My favourite term for an extended summer is Babye Leto (Бабье лето) – a Russian turn of phrase that translates to “Old Ladies’ Summer.”

How amazing is that? It just conjures up the bloody best imagery.

I can see it now: a gaggle of giggling grandmas, sunning their legs, sipping mimosas, adjusting their sunglasses, remarking every so often on the heat, or, you know, KIDS THESE DAYS.

And believe me when I say that out here on the West Coast of Canada the elderly babushkas have been having an absolute field day weather-wise.

Today for instance, the mercury is hovering around 20 degrees centigrade, the sky burns a deep, cerulean blue, and the trees either glow soft reds, oranges, and yellows or simmer deep purples, greens, and browns.

It is autumn perfection.

M and I have been bopping about the lower mainland, spending as much time outside as possible – going for runs, playing tennis (in shorts and t-shirts!), taking long walks down by the water, and venturing out for late night dinner dates.

Oooer.

I cannot think of a better way of spending a long weekend.

Here are some snaps from our adventures of late:

Into the woods.

Gifts.

Red head.

Date.

Down by the bay.

Sun cat.

Meditation.

I hope you all had a stunningly beautiful weekend, filled with sun, love, and laughter.

And if not, I recommend moving to BC.

It’s pretty rad round these parts.

And pretty pretty too.

Have laughs, will travel

Sometimes, you just need to act like a nutter.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

In December of 2009, M and I spent a week in Geneva and five days in London before returning home to Canada.

We had been living in the UK while I was on research leave for my MA, and we really wanted to wrap up our trip in a special way.

We figured stops in two brilliant, bustling cities (in the weeks leading up to Christmas no less) would make for an excellent send off.

Now, suffice to say that I love my husband madly (emphasis on the mad) and when I state that we have a heck of a good time travelling together, this is not hyperbole.

This is fact.

During our time in Switzerland, we bopped about the place, our eyes semi-sprung from our sockets, incredulous at how expensive everything was (I mean, twelve francs for a happy meal!? How is that even possible?), attempting to take in all the jaw-dropping beauty offered up by our environs.

M is half-Swiss so we had the immense pleasure of staying with his amazing cousin Lisette, a woman whom I love dearly – so much so that I will be hard pressed not to name my first child after her.

(If luck should have it that it be born a boy, well, he’ll have to endure. Perhaps some hard living country songstress will write a rousing tune about him and his namesake. It would be a bona fide hit; a certified chart topper.)

Lisette’s sister Bea is another of my all time favourites – she is the epitome of chic. Her doggie Tisha is also the epitome of cute, with her eyes that melt your heart, and magical powers to make handfuls of biscuits materialize out of thin air.

On our first day in Geneva, we toured much of the old town and then visited St. Pierre Cathedral. Having climbed to the bell tower, we took full advantage of an empty observation deck to partake in some high tom foolery.

Exhibit A:

Magic!

On our trip to Bern, M kept asking me to take photos so “it looked like he was running to jump aboard the train while it was still moving.”

This is the best I could do:

It’s amazing the associated press hasn’t been blowing up my phone trying to get me to come and work for them.

Perhaps one of my most favourite laugh-until-you-cry-and-then-bloody-well-laugh-some-more moments came when we were in London.

It was our second day in the city. We sprung out of bed at an early hour, despite having walking some twelve-odd hours the day before, so eager we were for adventure.

Boy was it was cold as heck.

We arrived at Kensington Gardens and immediately were besieged by hoards of hungry, and as such, aggressive water fowl. They were absolutely insatiable! I managed to capture the madness (albeit all too briefly) in the following video.

P.S. THIS IS NOT HOW MY VOICE SOUNDS IN REAL LIFE GOOD GRIEF.

Finally, because I’m a silly, silly girl, and I’m always asking M to pose for inane photos, I requested that he pretend to tickle the giant, mummified hippopotamus that’s hanging two stories up in the Museum of Natural History:

And then pet the skeleton of some poor prehistoric beast that perished in some Jurassic tar pit and/or meteor shower:

Alas.

Just typing out these words – just looking at all of our many photos from this trip has got me feeling homesick. Yearning for our small, rubbish flat on Rotton Park Road, my running loop at the Edgbaston Reservoir, my young English students at Right Track School, the beautiful red brick at the University of Birmingham, and all the carefree nights and weekends M and I spent around the city, and different parts of the country.

So you’ll have to excuse me.

I’m off to take some photos. I’m off for a new adventure.

Stirring up trouble

Hey dudes.

Do you want to know what is the absolute worst thing ever? Like, in the world?

I’ll tell you what: FIRE ALARM TESTING.

Yeah, I’m about two shrill shrieks away from a murderous rampage to end all murderous rampages.

Not to mention the fact that my poor cat is utterly traumatized.

At first, when it started this morning, she was all, “MOM! WHY!?”:

And as the day progressed, she morphed into a fragile shell of her former amazon-Dorne self, until I found her like this in our upstairs office:

The poor thing had eyes as big as saucers.

Urg. It’s now 5:08pm and THEY ARE STILL TESTING THE DARN THINGS.

If these bastards aren’t finished soon, I’m going to take a dump in their boot and cut the brake lines in their van. Don’t think I won’t do it!!!

WOAH.

Erm.

Okay. That was too much. Dial it back there Eth, you’ve gone too far.

Sorry folks, I don’t know what got over me there.

But seriously, my head is pounding, my ears are ringing – even my heartbeat seems all off.

In short, I feel like utter rubbish, and I look like it too.

(But not smell. I smell like vanilla deliciousness.)

About an hour ago, peering at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I instinctively recoiled.

“FIE! AWAY FOUL BEAST AND DIE!” I shouted (because as you know, I live in a Shakespeare play.)

Either way, things were circling the drain, AND QUICK. So what did I do to combat this malaise? This lethargy of the soul, and hideousness of the face?

I did what any (semi) sane vegetarian would do.

I made a vegetable stirfy.

Pics or it didn’t happen you say?

GOOD THING I BROUGHT THE BIG GUNS. Let’s dive in, shall we?