Tag Archives: awesome


CSB.  I know, I know UIG, yer using all these keerazy terms and what do they mean?  Well, let me school you, blogfriends…  (I know, I actually can’t stand myself right now, so let’s move on)

So CSB stands for Community Supported Baking, and it’s a pretty new term to me too.  I had been familiar with CSA – Community Supported Agriculture, where you can purchase a share or half-share and receive a weekly box of locally grown fruits and vegetables, which is awesome, right?  And yet, as awesome as it sounded, we never actually did it.  And part of the reason is that it usually requires shelling out a substantial amount of $$ all at once, for the season.  And not that it isn’t a fantastic investment, it’s more that we usually hit the wall financially every week, and so even though there would be fresh, local, tasty fruits and veggies every week for us, the initial outlay was a bt of a barrier.  The other reason was less fiscal and more practical as in I can hit the various Hamilton markets several times each week so I don’t necessarily need to have a weekly pick-up of produce.  But even with those two things, every once in awhile The Genealogist and I think “maybe we should do one of those CSAs but then again, maybe not?  I don’t know?  What?”  But we never did.


So a couple of months ago I was reading the paper and there was an article about two women who were opening a retail bakery in my ‘hood.  Which got me excited, because come on!  Bakery!  On my street!  And their philosophy was lovely, and not only that, they were offering CSB!  So, much like the fruit and veggie people, you pay a (in this case) monthly amount and every week you pick up baked goods.  Are you still with me?  Because I said every week you PICK UP BAKED GOODS.  Baked goods, people!

Now, I like to cook.  I do.  And I’m pretty good at it.  But what I don’t like about cooking is using a recipe.  So restrictive.  So normally the way I work is that I use cookbooks for ideas and guidelines, but I make stuff up as I go along. 

For example, a recipe might call for sage but I don’t have sage, so I use fennel.  Or, it might say use potatoes, but I only have yams, so I use those.  Whatevs, gramma.  And you know what?  I can usually make that shit work. 

But baking.  Man, baking is a whole other world.  You have to measure.  And be, you know, exact.  Baking just goes against all my instincts, but holy crap I love fresh bread and muffins and alla that.  So CSB?  Hell yes, sign me up!

So we signed up and put our money where our salivating mouths are, and yesterday we received our 3rd CSB order and can I just say?  It is a freaking miracle.  And I am not even kidding.  A loaf of fresh bread, a bag of cookies, muffins and danish.  All good, all wholesome and all using local (where possible) ingredients.  It is a beautiful thing.

The retail bakery will open later this winter, which will be amazing as well, but in the meantime, we are beyond hooked on this fantastic service.    So thank you,   Cake and Loaf Bakery.  Thanks to your excellent mad baking skillz, my boys have fresh, wholesome treats for their lunches.

But don’t worry, full credit goes to you.  I can’t even pretend to bake that well.

Those aren’t calves, they’re steers. But they’re mine AND they can kick your ass

Yesterday we had a friend over for dinner, which was lovely.  And when she was getting ready to leave, I commented on her awesome boots; they are, I told her, exactly what I’m looking for.  She told me where she had purchased them, and so I took a slightly closer look and said “hmmm…not sure those would go up over my massive calves” and then we laughed.  And she said “what happened to the cute suede boots you bought when we went to Toronto that time?” and I told her that I had blown those out last year – that they were tight in the calf to begin with, and one morning last winter I was putting them on to leave for work and I pulled up the zipper and then – BOOM! – I blew out a seam.  And then we laughed again.  Then I told her about my experience trying to find some cute rain boots, and having no luck because, again, I need them extra big in the calf.  And she said “You know, you’ve earned those calves with all the running and karate and everything, right?”  And I agreed that I had.  Partly it’s genetics – my dad had massively strong calves too – “not calves, but steers” as he used to say – but yes, a lot of it is from the training that I’ve been doing.  So yes, I have indeed earned the calve-alry that I sport.

After she left, I started thinking about how I used to apologize for the various parts of my body that didn’t seem to measure up to the gold standard.  And I was actually pretty proud of myself for being able to say “dude, take a look at these things, they’re huge – but go on and feel them, solid freaking muscle, ok?”  And of course it goes without saying that my friend is pretty amazing for her thoughts on the matter too.  “You earned them”.  Damn straight I did.

And then this morning I had a peek at Jezebel as I often do to ease into the work week.  And there, buried beneath the photos of Snooki and Katy Perry and articles about Lindsay Lohan (I know, I skim those, trust me) was this fantastic article, and reading it made me feel so damned good, and it was like the universe had planned the whole boots/calves thing plus this just for meeeeee!

Because yes, I too am sick of so-called fitness magazines and their one-track collective minds of “work out to lose weight”.  Even the grand-daddy of them all, the revered Runner’s World has gone down that path, causing The Genealogist – an avid runner and reader of this mag – to cancel his subscription.  You want to know why I run, and why I kickbox and why I do karate?  It’s not to lose weight.  It’s to kick ass and take down names.  That’s why.

Karate and kickboxing have given me the confidence to just be – to be at peace, or dare I even say at one with my body.  And to ignore what society dictates I should weigh or look like.  I love that in the change rooms at the dojo the women are all in various stages of undress comparing bruises (our favourite pasttime) and NO ONE ever says “oh god look at me in this sports bra, I really need to do something about this roll” or anything like that.  There’s no snarking, there’s just appreciation for who we are and what we can accomplish with our bodies.  And it is so rad and so awesome and I wish more women could be like that.  Not that everyone needs to do karate, of course.  But the ability to treat your body with that amount of respect, because look what you were just able to do with that body!  Whether it’s yoga or karate or running or dancing or whatever.  Or if it’s even just climbing a set of stairs and that is an accomplishment for you, it’s time to celebrate it.  As Morning Gloria, the author of the linked article says:

“Your body was made for so much more than being looked at, deprived of food, and enjoyed by others. Your body was made for kicking some ass.”

Your body is amazing.  Mine is too. 
And fuck off to all the magazines that tell us we’re somehow lacking.


I had a day off today, which is all kinds of awesome on its own.  But throw in two of my kickass friends making lunch reservations and booking massages for us in a swanky hotel – complete with hot tub, sauna and steam room time.  And that is way more kinds of awesome than I can even count.

So now that I’ve been pummelled and pampered, I’m home relaxing with the boys in front of the TV and having a glass of wine.  I’m also incapable of a coherent thought due to the aforementioned pummelling and pampering, so here have a video.  Perfect, indeed.  Well the video is a little sketchy, I’ll admit.  But I’m a big fan of this song.  And also I’m tired and lazy. 

Throwing in the towel

So with a nod to my post from yesterday about online shopping and its virtual awesomeness, I want to share an excellent site I happened to find recently.  It all started when I lost my mind while drying wine glasses.  No, really.

I have this thing about glassware.  I like it to be clean, obviously, but I also like it spot- and smudge-free.  I don’t think this is too much to ask, and I have been known to wash and re-wash a wine glass if it is not pristine enough prior to its use.  Anal, much?  You don’t know the half of it. 

Anyway, the tea towels we have in our house are a mishmash of IKEA cheapies, souvenirs from holidays and the kind you just pick up at the store when you are behind on the laundry.  And you know what?  They suck ass.  Well, apart from the souvenir ones, those are actually quite good.  And the reason why they are that good is because they are all souvenirs from the UK and Ireland.  And over there, the one thing they know about is proper tea towels.  Ok, actually they know a lot about a lot of things, but trust me on the tea towel thing.  So one day, after attempting to dry a lovely Riedel wine glass with a grody, crappy cotton or polyester tea towel, I’d absolutely had it. 

“These tea towels are ruining our dishes and our glassware and they are RUINING MY LIFE!!” I shouted.  So off I went to the trusty interwebs and after a few minutes of searching I discovered All Tea Towels.  And like a giddy tea towel freak, I happily browsed and shopped and ordered 5 or 6 gorgeous, 100% linen tea towels.  And then, like a miracle, several days later they arrived in a package, thus saving my glassware AND my life.

Dramatic?  Hardly.  Once you have dried a dish with a quality tea towel, you too will understand.  There is nothing as satisfying as drying a wine glass, then holding it to the light to see that there are no streaks, no smudges, no lint – just clear gorgeous glass or crystal.  A thing of beauty.

So please, do yourself a favour and contact All Tea Towels, because not only do they sell beautiful, quality tea towels, their customer service is second to none – friendly and prompt, and ready to answer any questions you might have.

And really, with designs like this, is it any wonder I say they saved my life?

Gin  & tonic in a spotless glass.  It’s what’s for dinner.

Friday Night’s Alright for Disco

Could this be the greatest video of all time?

Let’s debrief, shall we?

Men in what appear to be satin orange jumpsuits, on the deck of a ferry?  Check.  The guitar and bass players just rocking out – cordless AND ampless?  Check.  Impromptu dance party of little kids and adults alike just shaking it with wild abandon?  Check.  Old gent in fedora and windbreaker clapping off the beat?  Check.

Happy Friday, y’all.  Burn that mother down, indeed.