Mmmmmm! And, Hmmmmmm.

So the new recipe, salmon with peach-ginger salsa....VERY tasty! Except we don't have a BBQ, so I baked it, but that turned out very well. The only thing I would do differently is remember that there are only 2 of us, and halve the salsa recipe. But I think I'll manage just fine eating the rest of it as is with my breakfast today. You know, make sure it doesn't go to waste and all.

I served the salmon with some roasted rosemary nugget potatoes, and a salad: baby romaine tossed with a balsamic vinegar reduction, topped with tomatoes, dried cranberries, and honey-roasted walnuts. Quite delish! And it met both of my requirements for making it a regular-ish meal: fast and easy. (I do love meals that are fast, easy, and don't get a lot of dishes dirty, but look all fancy...a bit of culinary sleight-of-hand, really!)

(Laurie asked about the frozen yogurt recipe: I didn't use one, I just faked it. Took some plain yogurt, stirred in some honey and some frozen raspberries, put it in the freezer, stirred it every once in awhile. It was really good, but next time I'd puree the raspberries first - the big frozen chunks were a little difficult to eat. And let it soften a few minutes before serving.)

Mr.Q went out to a band practice after dinner, and I was catching up on some blog reading...out of the corner of my eye, I caught a movement by my foot. Looked down to see which cat it was...and it was a mouse - ran right up to my foot, saucy little beggar! The cats? All asleep in the bed! They are so fired!

I carried a couple of the lazy beasts into the living room and put them down in front of the shelf that the intruder had run behind. They took it in turns to stand watch, very intently, for an hour or so. Then got bored and wandered off. At which point, the mouse ran right up to my foot again.

Now, I'm not afraid of mice at all, but I don't exactly want them running around in my house, either. Especially when we have three cats that are supposed to keep the critters out! There's a lot of construction going on in the neighbourhood, which always means an increase in critters running around...but still!

Anyway. When Mr.Q got home, we pulled all the records off the one shelf that we couldn't see under, and had a good look around, but couldn't see anything. The cats came back and started on guard duty again. (So intent, they were! I tried not to laugh at them, for fear of offending their dignity, but it was quite funny) I didn't hear anything last night, but one of the beasties is napping on the still-empty shelf, and seems too relaxed for there to be a mouse nearby. I'm hoping somebody had themselves a midnight snack last night.

But I'm also not leaving the bread or anything on the counter, just in case! Eeep!

On Island Time

We spent our anniversary weekend on Bowen Island, at a fantastic little B&B on the far (western) side of the island - nary a city light in view, thank you very much! As the Gray Mare (TM) has moved on to greener pastures, we were doing this adventure on transit, which required careful packing of the barest essentials...Baileys, cheeses (lots), fancy crackers, chocolate, etc...and Mr.Q was a phenomenal help with the packing, as you can see:

Thank FSM he wasn't drooling, as his head was on my pillow! 'T any rate, we eventually got everything assembled in a manageable way, had a fairly painless trip over to Bowen on transit (Umm...Bowen Island community shuttle schedule - very, very wacky. But the drivers? The friendliest, most helpful bus drivers either of us have ever come across!) and found our way to the B&B - a self-contained suite looking through cedar forest at Howe Sound.

We spent the better part of 3 days reading, napping, sipping coffee with Baileys (or mimosas), staring out the windows, and sitting in a hammock chair looking at this:


We did have that fancy-pants pizza on Sunday at Tuscany (pear and caramelized onions with Brie... mmmmmmm!)...I even convinced Mr.Q to wear something other than a T-shirt:


Doesn't he look handsome in the garden? (The facial expression, I can only assume, was related to his "I look like a Hare Krishna" whining. I pointed out that, since he was neither wearing a yellow bedsheet nor sporting a shaved head, he was being just a teensy bit melodramatic. He did stop when his beer arrived. Which is good, or I would have started chanting..."rama rama hare hare...." He insists on referring to Krishna as "the cool blue dude." I refuse to rise to the bait.)

Anyway. Dinner was great. Though I was a git and didn't think to bring my Tuscany shawl for a perfect photo op at the restaurant...doh! Afterward, we had time for a walk around the harbour before the shuttle left. Random photo outside a cafe:


Unfortunately, we didn't have time to play!

One interesting thread through the weekend was Mr.Q's choice of reading material. He was blasting his way through Edgar Rice Burrough's Barsoom series, which led to occasional random outbursts and pronouncements: "Woman! Fetch me a beer! I, Zimbu, Jeddak of Lothar have spoken! Deny me not, or suffer my wrath!"

Etc.etc. Needless to say, he had to get his own damned beer. And bring me a drink while he was at it! It seems that "Zimbu, Jeddak of Jeddaks" is best known for his deadly Eyebrows of Eternal Peril. Mr.Q was practicing, even on the ferry home. Quite chillingly effective, don't you think?


Which got rather a few looks from the tourists on board, but honestly, I was too busy giggling to care. One thing he will never be is boring! (Plus, truth be told, I get a kick out of the old-school bombastic pulp writers, and ERB was one of the best)

And now we are home again, and I've got the hundredth load of laundry going (or so it seems!). Trying an adventure for dinner - Mr.Q called from work this morning and asked if he could put in a request for dinner - "something light" as he was feeling a bit sluggish after all the cheese over the weekend. Since he almost never asks for anything special, I am happy to indulge him. So I thought I'd try something new and summery, salmon with peach-ginger salsa. And an attempt at home-made frozen yogurt (with honey and raspberries) for dessert. Which may or may not survive until dinner, as I seem to have to "taste" it every time I go to stir it....oops!

Mushy peas!

It were 6 years ago today that we got married in front of family, friends, and a red drum kit. If we could do it all over again...I still wouldn't let him put up posters to advertise!

Interestingly, the traditional gifts for a 6th anniversary are apparently iron and chocolate. Needless to say, we've opted for the edible choice. And are also celebrating by going to a fancy-pants Italian pizza place for a romantic dinner and some canoodling.

Happy Anniversary, Harold! Love you oodles, you furry lurve monkey!

One of those days

I'm having the kind of afternoon that only this could cure.

I needs one.

A slippery slope...hand me the crazy carpet!

Lots going on, but most of it prolly not all that interesting to anybody 'cept the voices in my head telling me what to do....Doh! They did tell me not to mention them. Oops! Well, I don't always do what I'm told. Too bad, so sad! They'll just have to suck it up, or I won't feed them any more chocolate.

Anyway. I've suddenly found myself in one of those bursts of activity, which involves doing things I've been meaning to do for awhile, but just haven't got around to till now. Big loads gone to the thrift store -I cleared out at least 1/3 of the clothes in my closet, cut my fabric stash in half, got rid of a box full of dishes...and have since been eyeing my bookshelves rather ruthlessly. (And two boxes of cassettes that haven't been opened in years...I'm more likely to start wearing legwarmers again than listen to any of them! Maybe time to let 'em go, non?)

I'm at the half-way point, more or less, with Tuscany, and am having a bit of a dilemma. I've started into the second skein of STR, and though they are indeed from the same dye lot - ordered at the same time - the second skein is in no way whatsoever knitting up the same as the first. Not even similar. The colours are the same, 'tis true, but instead of nice tones of blue with white-ish flecks (the first 15 inches of the shawl) I've got nice tones of blue with white-ish stripes across the shawl, starting about halfway up the back.

The question is, can I live with it? Coz as obvious and currently annoying as it is...if I rip it back, I won't re-knit it. It will drown in the frog pond. And it's close enough to finished that I'm getting a sense of just how luscious and drapy the finished shawl will be. How cozy it will be, wrapped around me the next time I go to a concert at the Orpheum. That kind of thing...mmmm! But...stripes? I'll have to knit a couple more inches before I can really decide, I guess.

Knitting crises aside, I found myself downtown the other day. Not somewhere I go often, if I can help it, but I was following a whim (and, it must be said, the encouragement of Mr.Q), and I ended up here:

When I left 15 minutes later, it seems I was suddenly enrolled in an Italian class for September. Oops! Gosh, I hate when that kind of thing happens...not! I've wanted to do this for awhile. I guess the trick was to quit thinking about things and JFDI, as my Dad says. Always so many reasons to be sensible, wait till later, save the money, blah blah blah. F**k the sensible voice in my head; I'm going with the voice that wants to eat pasta and drink wine!

Went home and made a fancy dinner to celebrate. (Indian, not Italian, just to be perverse.)


And the de-cluttering, clearing out the old and bringing in the new, has reached an interesting (and long-awaited, on my part) new height. The Old Gray Mare (TM) has been put out to pasture, so to speak. Mr.Q sold her to a young band in need of a touring vehicle...and we are going to join the local car co-op for our minimal city-dwelling automotive needs. A farewell photo, for sentimental purposes:


I decided to celebrate that (or, well, something) by getting a bunch of photos printed up, which I've been meaning to do for awhile (like, oh, a year!) and putting them in frames. And then actually putting them up on the wall on the very same day!

(Of course, today it pissed rain. So I was not so excited about being without wheels. But, I didn't melt. Guess we'll just have to invest in some real rain gear this winter...which we're overdue for anyway, 'specially in this neck of the rainforest!)

Meanwhile, we're gearing up for a weekend away...eez our anniversary this weekend, and we're trying out another B&B cottage on Bowen Island (which, fortunately, is covered by an extension of Vancouver transit!)

You know, all this stuff going on...I'm gonna wake up one of these days and find that I've got nothing to be all wittily cynical about! (Ummm...note to the powers that be: I am so totally OK with that!) Things is good. And I get that they're good. And that's good!

I'll leave you with a pic I just realized was still on my camera: Mom's completed first (and only, probably!) dishcloth:


(It's the blue-y one, on top of the red one. Which is one in a series of three - now four, I guess! - in a frame above her sink: one done by each of my sisters and I, and now Mom's. Good work, Mama-san!)

Loose ends

I finally just had to give up writing about my trip home. There are really only so many ways to make "slept in tent, had coffee, saw kids, got sunburned" interesting. To read about, that is. The doing was fantabulous, but to keep writing about it...well, either you were there, and don't need to read about it; or you weren't there, and there's no point, coz a few photos and sentences just aren't going to capture it, really. It was marvellous.

I came back with a highly-uneven suntan, and feet in desperate need of professional pedicure-y attention. In the midst of the best of it, delightfully satisfied after a potluck fit for royalty (elk! mmmmm!) my friend Beth summed it up perfectly: we were sitting with our sun-hats on, friends playing music, drinks in hand, throats tired from singing....and she looked around us, sighed, and said "Now this is the life! I do wonder what the rich folk are doing right now?" Amen!

(I'm happy to report that my guitar survived the flight home in one piece. With big "FRAGILE" stickers slapped on both sides of the case - very cool. I feel like such a big kid, now!)

And now I'm back into the swing of things in The Big City. It's good, of course, to be back home with Mr.Q and the kitties. It helped that I came out of a weekend with about 36 hours of non-stop home-grown music, and back to an Emmylou Harris concert.

Ummm....wow. Just wow.

Her genuine love of music and total lack of ego or pretentiousness are inspiring. She's amazing. Also, I want her hair when I grow up!

(Before you start getting cavities from all the sweetness and light: I woke up to discover that Mr.Q had absconded with my brownie this morning! I was so looking forward to eating it for breakfast. He is in so much trouble!)

(Also, I have a cold sore...I'm not sure which is worse - the itching, or the no-kissing! Wah! Though after the Great Brownie Heist, I'm not sure a certain someone would be getting any kisses, anway. Poor, poor me!)

Love at first byte

I so totally heart Joss Whedon (love: eleventy-hundred bazillion!)