LITTLE MISS DOMESTIC

Chest Pains

2007-01-24T11:27:00.000-05:00

We have so much to catch up on.

First, Adult Ballet part deux.
So I went for my shoe fitting. I was so excited that it was an actual fitting...only to discover that my foot is too large for the pink slippers. Yes, that's right, they don't make cute little pink ballet slippers for people with enormous feet. Wow. Not only do I stand out in class for my moves, but now I am fully the outcast with my BLACK slippers. Like I really needed to draw more attention to my feet?! This was a total bummer, considering that I signed up in the first place for the pink slippers. Alas, the show must go on!!

So I woke up Saturday morning with crazy chest pains. I mean, these were unlike anything I have ever experienced before. They were sharp and very deep. It never crossed my mind that this was actually a pulled muscle from my ballet class. Luckily I am one degree of separation from 3 medical professionals (yes, Missy, I'm including you in there!!) My Internet MD correctly diagnosed me. Of course, after the diagnosis it made sense that maybe I pulled a muscle in my ribs with my floor stretches--- the ones where I was incorrectly trying to align my core muscles with my hands over my head. Those being the stretches before the ones where I was practically kissing the studio floor. Suffice it to say, I had to sleep like a mummy because it all killed so much.

Now that I am in the correct ballet class (read INTRO), I am getting a bit more of a thick skin. I know this isn't entirely believable after I've written about my chest pains, but it's true.
The fact is, I walk into my ballet class through the same entry as some very little people with little pink ballet slipper knap sacks. The ballet school is for younger dancers, and the adult classes are just something they obviously offer because there are people like me who will sign up and pay for an hour and 15 minutes of humiliation. To optimize the humiliation of the INTRO dancers, there are glass window to see into every studio. Imagine my reaction when I realized that the parents and siblings of the little dancers like to congregate at the window of the adult classes to get a little chuckle. Make that big chuckle. At first I thought these people belonged to someone in the class. When I realized they were intruders, I literally wanted to shoo them away with a big broom. At this point in the class, I am actually there to learn something, and the snickers through the window were absolutely no help. I don't care that my timing was totally off and my alignment was all wrong...for that hour and a bit I am a dancer! Excuse me, I even bought a pair of leg warmers before my class this week! Can you not tell that I am wearing professional leg warmers with my black slippers?? And trust me, I won't be stopping with the leg warmers... a body suit and leotard are only a couple days away!!

Slippers, Pretzels and the Turkey

2007-01-05T16:06:00.000-05:00

Turns out I will be wearing those cute little pink ballet slippers afterall. I have re-registered to the Intro class for next week. Here's hoping I can get those arm movements coordinated. Really, I just want to be able to wear the shoes. Oddly enough, I had a pair of ballet slippers when I was six or seven...funny though, how I never took a dance class. I will try my hardest, if I ever have a daughter, not to live out all my unfulfilled childhood dreams through her...though I already know she's going to play the violin, be a champion diver, ballet dancer and singer. The poor thing.

I'm eating myself happy today with a bag of Honey Mustard pretzels- they're the chubby kind, not the thin ones. Just discovered these yesterday...so good. They're made by 'Neal Brothers', and are totally delicious. I'm making up for the few hours I couldn't eat this morning. Nothing like catching up for lost time. I had to get some routine bloodwork done- and you have to fast for 14 hours prior. It's taken me practically a year to get the requisition filled because I can never go 14 hours without eating, even if you throw in a 10 hour sleep. Plus, who is all that eager to get a needle anyway?? It took a lot of planning for me to bypass the coffee this morning and actually make it to the doctor. I had an emergency snack supply in my purse just in case I felt faint after the needle. A bit paranoid, I think.

Okay, so I never did write about my Christmas Turkey. I was so impressed at how gorgeous she turned out- bronzed and glistening- until my husband alerted me to the fact that I cooked the turkey upside down! I had some serious palpitations when I looked at the picture in the cookbook to discover that, yes, indeed, the Christmas Turkey had a lovely golden back. Luckily, the breasts had been baking in some serious juice, and were quite succulent. Who knew that cooking the bird upside down would be the best mistake ever. Still, I don't think I'll be able to live that one down for a while.

Adult Ballet

2007-01-04T22:19:00.000-05:00

pooh. feel like total pooh.
I just got back from my very first ballet class ever. My girlfriend and I wanted to take an adult ballet class together, so I signed us up this week for classes at the National Ballet School.
They have seven different levels, including Intro and Level 1. The girl on the phone at the school told me Level 1 was also for people who have had no previous dance experience- and the school's website pretty much said the same thing, so I signed us up for Level 1.... I think you know where this is going...

Fast forward to this evening. Arrive at class...everyone is in their leotard outside the room stretching. It's a total scene from 'Fame', minus Leroy. Me and my friend giggle that we're not stretching.
We enter the room and everyone gravitates toward the bar. Again, I'm like whooa, not going to pretend to stretch with the bar just yet. Then a woman enters the room and takes to the piano- we have our very own accompanist! What is going on here?
The instructor then signals for the class to begin- everyone to the bar. "First position...de la something....plie...5th position". Huh? I am madly following the girl in front of me.
The instructor notices that my friend and I are a little lost. She asks some questions and gets the low down that "no" we haven't had a ballet class before..blah...blah..blah.
Turns out the class is indeed Level 1, but they are in the second term of the class. These people have been together for an entire semester already and are picking up where they left off before Christmas. Hello? Like so embarrassing. I got signaled out enough in junior high, why do I have to relive the humiliation?
Anyway, the instructor said we could stay, so we did. I was dying to run out of the class the whole time. It was routine after routine. And then there was me, checking out the girl in front, madly trying to follow what was going on.
For a minute there I thought I was doing okay. Thought I had caught some moves. Feeling semi with it for someone who just joined the class. Then we had to do some jump routine individually. The HORROR! The instructor went around the room one by one. "Good. Good. Good. Yes. Good. Sort of. Good. Good. Good." Well, we know who I was, don't we?
Insert nervous giggle. Shake it off. Shake it off.
Back to the bar. All is good at the bar because I can hide behind someone and try to play copycat. The clock says we have another half hour. Can I just make some sort of dash for the door like I'm faint? In fact, I really do feel faint. What? We're going to jump in groups of three across the room with a hop and our arms coordinating with our hop? With everyone watching? Do I go last- or do I fit myself in the middle so the whole class isn't watching me fly across the room? The middle it is. Be sure to smile like you just don't care- cause you really do care and you know you are so not going to get that hop right.
I hopped and my arms were all wrong, and who knows what else. But I finished the class. And my back hurts and it was a little more than mildly humiliating...but at least the piano music was nice.

Merry Christmas!

2006-12-25T14:50:00.000-05:00

The turkey is in the oven while I write this. It's my first. Despite being a little frightened by the turkey when I bought it, I was happy that I was able to embrace it during its preparations...though I was reminded when I placed it in the roasting pan that it was missing its head. Now I remember why I became a vegetarian way back when. I guess this isn't exactly the cute Christmas post I was planning.

So...the tree...again, my very own first. It's 9 feet tall, if you can believe it. We went to a random parking lot that had an RV and a ton of trees and picked her out fairly quickly. However, when my husband realized he wasn't going to be able to carry it home by himself, we did the next best thing and put the top down on the convertible on the only snowy day this year. We plopped the ol' tree in the back and rode off like Santa in his sleigh. It was pretty cute...too bad I didn't have the camera then!

So far all our Christmas events have been great. Our Christmas Eve service last night was quite moving. I cried for most of its duration...couldn't even get through Silent Night. Too bad I got 6 small packs of kleenex in my stocking today...

Feel quite spoiled. The Christmas bounty was plentiful...I think it's those stockings...they're always the best. Figure this will be one of the last years for all that kind of stuff. Once the kiddies come I get to spoil some more people...not that my kids are going to be spoiled or anything (easier said than done, right?)

The table is coming along. I found the cutest little place card holders. They also hold a single cut stem.

My feminine Christmas became dreamy when I opened up this tea cup from my mother-in-law. I had been eyeing it for some time, so it was very kind of her to put in a some serious leg work to find one for me in Toronto while she was still in Winnipeg. Hope the husband doesn't feel too smothered in pink and aqua yet!

Merry Christmas to my very loyal readers. I hope you're having a joyful celebration with your families as well.

Looking forward to writing a little more often in 2007...here's hoping I can keep that resolution.

Male Wardrobing

2006-12-04T16:46:00.000-05:00

What is a wife's jurisdiction when it comes to her husband's wardrobe? At what point does a spouse's opinion invalidate one's sense of "creative expression" in their choice of attire?

I will start off by saying again that I love my husband and I appreciate his independent thinking. I rarely comment on his clothing, and have always felt that this was his domain, with a few minor exceptions. I don't usually give him any unsolicited advice in this area, nor do I buy him any clothing. In fact, he would prefer that I don't even do his laundry...he likes to wash everything in HOT water. All fine by me.

Now, when my husband comes home from work he likes to revert to his "house frau", which actually translates to his housewife clothing. Not sure I ever knew what that meant until today...but I digress. This usually consists of a flannel top c. 1980, some pants that are now floods, or in the summer, a t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off (the last of which he is not allowed to even open the door in!). These are his comfy clothes. I have my own equivalent- usually with a lot of rips, holes or coffee stains (ewww). In fact, I have a drawer of clothes that I can't quite part with, that I would never wear outside my home, but make for a nice 2nd wardrobe indoors.

This brings us to our latest Saturday outing--furniture shopping. I am being honest when I say that even on our weekend outings I usually don't even say a word when the husband wears his frau outdoors (minus the sleeveless t). However, even before I saw him get ready, I shouted out something about "dressing up a little". No sooner did I say it, did he appear around the corner...in the exact outfit he was wearing unbuttoned to do the dishes in...plaid flannel shirt and all. He was literally stunned. What? Why? He even jokes about looking like he needs a toonie in this outfit, hello??

I really don't like making requests like this because I feel like it takes away some individual freedom- but frankly, aren't there some limits? Aren't there some articles of clothing that have had their day and now it's time to say goodbye? I've had to say goodbye to quite a few sweaters that I've worn into the ground-- the snickers got very loud. And it's one thing to hang out in your basement in whatever you please, but doesn't your spouse have some license to object to certain outfits for external appearances?? Don't they??

I remember my dad had this one flannel shirt with a pattern of hunters on it. It was khaki with all these men on horses with guns or something. We used to tease him back then, though I almost think it might be quite retro today. One day it went missing. It was no longer in his closet- and he suspected my mother threw it out. It really was an objectionable shirt back then, especially when you have three chirpie kids who were easily embarrassed. I'm not going to assume that my mother threw it out, because one never knows. But really, I wouldn't blame her. There have been a few corduroy shirts and multi colored sweat tops I've thought about hiding myself...but I am far from fearless!

So, are we allowed to have an opinion...and if so, how strong?

Self promoter or self demoter?

2006-11-29T14:17:00.000-05:00

Are you the former or the latter?
I didn't have to think too hard on this one for myself- I am a serious self demoter...aside from the fact that I have a blog calling myself 'little miss domestic'. That's actually a bit of a joke, and a term of endearment my husband likes to call me when I do impressive stuff at home.
I feel quite uncomfortable promoting anything I do or have done. Although I wonder if I am a promoter of my "opinion" on things. Socially, I am often very self conscious. I analyze my interactions to death, never quite satisfied with things I've said, or maybe said too quickly. I can beat myself up for a good couple hours unnecessarily. Sometimes necessarily, but maybe only a couple minutes is all that is really required.
I had to ask myself the question about the promoter or demoter the other day, because I find myself attracted more to the demoter than the promoter. I had never really thought about this concept before, but I wondered why there were certain people who I was naturally drawn to, and others who for whatever reason made me feel uneasy. It wasn't that these "uneasy" people are anything but nice and sweet, there is just something about the way they talk that I don't find particularly intimate or vulnerable. I sincerely believe that this is just a very natural overflow of how they look at life- but I have a hard time making a connection. A bit of "self demotion" or reality talk (I'm not promoting false humility- just humility), is disarming.
I wonder if the demoters like myself are pessimists and the promoters are optimists? For the life of me, I can't say much about any self accomplishment without feeling fake, or puffed up...especially unsolicited. Occasionally when I do a good job at something I can tell my husband, or just be confident in that fact, but unless asked, I can't volunteer this kind of information. Maybe I project the image of a promoter to those who don't know me? I wouldn't know. Those closest to me would not agree, that's for sure.
I guess there is a balance somewhere...I certainly know that too much self demotion is not a healthy thing. It's not an easy habit to break though.

Ode to Kozy Shack

2006-11-28T22:37:00.000-05:00

From down the aisle

You caught my eye

New and cute

Cinnamon and raisin

Rice pudding to delight

Gone in one sitting

Yes, a tub per day

dear kozy shack, dear kozy shack

you are delicious and sweet

too tempting a treat

week after week

tub after tub

I despair, it was too much

I had to cut back

No more of my dear kozy shack

And then there came another

She was, dare I say, almost better

Dutch chocolate pudding

A kozy shack sister

Velvety smooth, too hard to resist her

And here I am today

Embarrassed for my consumption

Dutch chocolate pudding

better than the rest

Dear Kozy shack, dear kozy shack

There is one serving left

I will save it for another

Do I leave it for my husband to discover?

If eat the rest, what will happen then?

Dear Kozy shack, dear Kozy shack

I am certain I’ll be banished to chateau chien

Chinatown 5

2006-11-19T22:05:00.000-05:00

Sounds like a boy band, doesn't it?

Another Saturday, another day for adventure.
So, my lovely husband was sporting the hair of a young Homer Simpson - a little long to say the least. He is, admittedly, the least vain person I know- and could care less what his hair looks like- and he happens to look tres cute regardless of it's shape or length. In fact, I once cut his hair into a mullet and he wore that for a couple weeks just for laughs.
It seems we needed a couple more laughs because he thought it would be funny to look for the cheapest haircut in Chinatown and not tell the hairdresser any specifications on the cut- he could only say "I need a haircut". My only stipulation was that if it ended up a bowl cut, he had to have it cleaned up.
Well, it turns out that there are 14 places in Chinatown that offer a haircut for $6 and one for $5. Guess where he went?

He followed the plan, only asking for a cut. His hairdresser asked him whether he wanted "short or medium?" He said "medium". She said "short or medium on the sides and back?". Best to be consistent, so he said "medium".
He arrived home, luckily with flowers, also from Chinatown, because it now looks like I am robbing the cradle. Oh, and he announced he now wants to be called "Chinatown Five". Ya, that's the name he wants to go by...not peach or pooch like I usually call him (please, no snickers).

I love Chinatown 5, but honestly, it's a bit of a bowl cut at the back. One nice straight line. And I wasn't even allowed to fix it. I begged and begged. Maybe I secretly love that he doesn't care he's new wave in the front and 1985 in the back....though I can't help but feel like a bit of a cougar when we walk hand in hand. Just waiting for him to be ID'd ;)

My evening in pictures

2006-11-19T21:40:00.000-05:00

And what a lovely evening it has been...caving and opening the Peppermint Bark pre Christmas. We were out of treats tonight and it was just sitting there...how could I not open it up? I'm guessing the whole lot of it will be gone by the end of the week... so yummy!

Ah, the beauty of fresh flowers. Wild Thyme did it again. Margaret, the shop owner has been redecorating her store. Apparently she got sick of an all white interior and has now incorporated a pale pink theme in some of her fixtures. I literally swooned when I opened the door. Couldn't help but pick up some ornaments from her store too....(can you see me taking the picture??)

And why not throw in a golden rod too?

Some Christmas music to set the mood (this cd, however, will not replace my Mariah Carey Christmas cd...something my husband would like to torch!)

And, for those of you who have been coming over to my house for a year now, and have had nowhere to put your coats- the hooks have arrived! Such a small thing, and yet it makes me smile from ear to ear. My new friend Lee at Wattle and Daub made this to my specifications...I gave him my wall paint so it would fit right in. So happy. Can I tell you how I went all over the city looking for some hooks to fit into my small little front door space- impossible to find anything sturdy shorter than 40 inches. Alas, it feels great to support a local independent store- and to have something so pretty to show for it.

Home Depot Dates etc...

2006-11-11T11:24:00.000-05:00

My usual Saturday morning consists of a leisurely wake up with no concept of time (some would argue this is my schedule every day...), then a slow perusal of the weekend paper with a couple cups of freshly brewed coffee. So, it's a big deal when I set my clock for 7:30 am- a time I usually associate only with having to catch an early morning flight or something. Anyway, there happened to be a 'Warehouse Sale' in my neighborhood put on by a local store I like to frequent. They have some very cute furniture, and I just so happen to be in the market for a couple pieces. They were opening the doors at 9am, and I knew I had to be there early. My husband and I took all the household measurements we needed, packed our bag with our measuring tape and cheque book and headed out. I was very groggy.

Like a good husband, my honey paid for 2 hours of parking thinking the place would be packed with so much selection, we'd be there forever mulling over our choices. Ya, whatever! The place was full of stuff I wouldn't even sell at a garage sale. Warehouse sale? There were like two pieces of furniture and a whole lotta knick knacks. I can't believe I woke up early for that! Seriously though, are warehouse sales ever anything but junk the store couldn't sell in the first place? Are they really going to put out the good stuff and just give it away? What was I thinking? I don't think I would have cared so much except for the fact that I woke up like it was Christmas morning.

The disappointment only got worse when we went to the bakery across the street and they only had sketchy pastries. "They don't sell sticky buns," my husband said. What kind of bakery doesn't sell sticky buns- the number one best seller? I told him I had some 'hot cross buns'....

We made our way to Home Depot, the place to be on a Saturday morning, apparently, if you're an industrious couple. I always enjoy a little date over at the Depot. I can't help but get a little sassy though - thinking I know my way around the joint. The husband doesn't always appreciate my chirping on what tools to buy. I guess I forgot I'm supposed to follow him around with my big eyes just waiting for things to be explained to me. We were shopping for some bathroom caulk- I said I would give him one of my tiny paintbrushes so he could smooth it out once it was squeezed onto the surface. That didn't go over too well. Did I know that caulk was like thick glue, blah, blah, blah? I was convinced the store cameras were following "the crazy couple in aisle 6" around just to see what we were bold enough to argue about in public.

Before HD- we went to Office Depot. I'm really not into that place. If you haven't already noticed, they don't think you can find anything by yourself. They have 3 sales people for every customer. Anyway, the husband, obviously in a goofy mood, wanted to see if I could push him over with both hands. I didn't think twice and took a running start. Ya, it worked. Full scene in the chair department. I don't think I picked up on the morning theme of someone needing to feel real masculine. Usually I sprain my wrists when I get coaxed into stuff like that. Such an easy target.

Smut

2006-11-08T16:15:00.000-05:00

Do you ever feel like you've polluted your body with Internet celebrity gossip? When I say body, I mean body...not just your mind. Because really, it goes from your head right down into the pit of your stomach.

I confess, I have overdosed. It is a total addiction. I hit the net first thing in the a.m. and right before I go to sleep, with several visits in between. It's awful. I think it's right up there with one of those other smut addictions...you know what I'm talking about...except it's usually men who have these addictions. Are we not as guilty when we fill our minds with another type of dirt? It seems so innocent- mere entertainment, yet I find it hard NOT to log onto certain gossip websites. I have to wonder if it's not controlling me- or if the instant gratification is too hard to resist. Am I spending more time on the Internet than on other productive and edifying activities? Yes.

I am currently trying to modify my behavior. I am going to attempt a detox. No celeb gossip sites at all! It's already hard, what with Britney's latest announcement. But I'm not going to allow myself to go there. It's not even all that interesting- well okay, her outfits are mildly entertaining.

I already avoid the glossies at the supermarket- probably because I've gotten enough garbage from the Internet. I feel like I'm suffering from visual overstimulation. It makes me jittery. I wonder what would happen if instead of handbags, shoes and hairdos, I flipped through pictures of seascapes, fields and sunsets? Would I feel different? I think so.

I'll keep you posted.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMY!!

2006-10-18T23:34:00.000-04:00

Happy 28th! I hope Paul is extra sweet to you today ;)
You're such a young little pup. The day I turned 30 I instantly felt like a cougar, despite being married....go figure.
Enjoy your celebrations this wknd. Can hardly wait to hear all about it.
xoxo

Mother In-Law's Chili Recipe

2006-10-18T16:35:00.000-04:00

I inherited this recipe from my mother in-law. I enjoy it all winter long. I think it's just as good, if not better than Tim Horton's Chili (which is delicious, incidentally).

Ingredients:

500 g. extra lean ground beef
1 cooking onion chopped
1 green pepper chopped
salt and pepper
1 tsp chili powder
1 tbsp vinegar
1 blop of ketchup (i.e. couple squirts)
1 can of sliced mushrooms
1 can tomato soup
1 can baked beans (I use maple beans)
1 can diced stewed tomatoes

Brown meat over med/high heat. Drain excess fat. Add salt, pepper, chili powder, vinegar and ketchup once meat is cooked. Add onion and green pepper and stir through. Cook for a couple minutes and then add remaining ingredients. Stir and bring to a boil. Make sure you stir frequently so the chili doesn't stick. Reduce heat once it boils and simmer for one hour.
Serve nice and warm with baguette, or any way you like. This recipe is good for 4 people, or 2 who happen to enjoy seconds!!

And the winner is...

2006-10-15T17:07:00.000-04:00

Amy from Mississauga.
Thanks Amy, for your prompt reply.
Your jam is on its way.
Thanks to everyone for their emails- very encouraging.
Stay tuned for my winter chili recipe...

Yummy Jam Contest

2006-10-13T16:23:00.000-04:00

It is currently 4:17 pm on Friday October 13th. The first person to email me at littlemissdomestic@yahoo.com will get my last jar of jam!

Trust me, it's very tasty.

It's Been Too Long...

2006-10-13T16:03:00.000-04:00

It really has. I am so sorry. I started this blog on impulse, expecting that I'd write practically every day, and for whatever reason, I've found myself doing everything but.

The other day I invited my mother over to make some jam. I felt it was time I made my own jam- it seemed like a rite of passage or something. She arrived with not only jam ingredients, but a huge roast. She felt I needed to learn how to cook a big slab of meat for my husband. I am a former vegetarian (13 years), and have only recently been able to stomach the idea of cooking big red pieces of cow. It's so gross in so many ways. Husband loved it, and I have to admit it was tasty, but looking at the roast picture now makes me nauseous.

The jam was a huge hit. We made peach raspberry jam, following the certo recipe using only one third of the sugar from their regular recipe. Certo's original recipe requires 7 cups of sugar. Can't even imagine. Alright, I can imagine- there was a time when I'd eat the sugariest jam straight out of the jar with a spoon. Disgusting, I know. What's even more disgusting is that I'd finish a jar within two days. Have also accomplished the same feat with Nutella, which was even better.

Aren't these jars the cutest? Love them.

The Double Bs

2006-09-26T10:50:00.000-04:00

There were 12 bran muffins on this tray yesterday. They were so tasty, they disappeared before I could take a picture.

I have termed said muffins 'brown bullets' or 'double Bs' for a very good reason. I don't think I need to elaborate. Let's just say my girlfriend who came for breakfast yesterday, and happens to be 5 months pregnant, welcomed the hearty intake of bran. In her words, "you need extra bran the moment you get pregnant."

The double Bs happen to be very addictive...and the repercussions of such an addiction aren't realized until several hours after consumption. And it just so happens that the double Bs are three biters, making their attractiveness that much harder to resist. I mean, they're so tiny, you can't possibly stop with one.

Here is the recipe, in case you too need some bran in your life...

This recipe has been adapted from 'In The Kitchen With Rosie' by Rosie Daley

Double Bs

Ingredients:
cooking spray
1/2 c molasses
2 tbs honey
2 egg whites
1/4 c plain nonfat yogurt
1/4 c skim milk
1/2 c wheat bran
1 c whole wheat flour
1.5 tsp baking powder
1 tbs ground ginger
1 tsp ground cloves
1/2 c sunmaid raisins

preheat oven to 350. coat a muffin tray with the cooking spray- lightly. warm molasses and honey in a pan over low heat until hot. remove from heat and set aside to cool.
combine egg whites, yogurt and milk in a bowl. stir. add in molasses and honey mixture. stir in bran, flour, baking powder and spices. add raisins.
scoop batter into muffin tray and bake for 15 minutes, or until toothpick comes out clean.

let them cool at least for a couple minutes before devouring!
I recommend doubling the recipe the second time you make the recipe, as these little things go fast.

Skinny Jeans

2006-09-21T12:12:00.000-04:00

I know I am late to the conversation on this one, but I felt compelled to write after seeing a recent pic. of Gwyneth wearing them. Now, I really do like to write positive things, but I can't find anything particularly positive about this trend.

Personally, I'm thinking it's a waste of money to purchase skinny jeans. Next year I'm sure jeans will have a different cut, and the skinnies will look funny. They are already unflattering. Unless you're a teenager, they do not flatter the bum. I repeat, they do not flatter the bum. And the skinniness only draws more attention to the posterior.

Let me tell you a story about my misadventures with expensive skinny jeans when they were last in fashion (well sort of in fashion). I have a pile of them I can't part with, namely because I spent money on them, not because I will ever wear them again. Take the Jean Paul Gaultier pair I bought c. 2000 in France. I thought I was so cool when I found them. The truth is, they are skinny jeans with a high waist that sandwich my behind. My back side looks 2 m long and my hips 2m wide. I paid a small fortune for them (before jeans became expensive in North America), and because JPG was on the cusp of designer jeans, I almost feel like they are a little piece of history tucked away in my closet.
They were fine in France where a crazy look like that was considered avant garde- but here, they looked plain ridiculous. I pull these jeans out every season just to see if they make any sense- or miracle upon miracles, they'll look okay. They do not.

My second misadventure is with another pair of designer jeans c. 1997. purchased in Montreal (the French are good at selling the image of chic). They are Daryl K. hip huggers- the first of their kind with a little bit of sparkle in the denim. They could almost past as leggings. Maybe they were chic for a second, and more than likely only caused a stir on campus because they were so different than regular old jeans- but no one thought to tell me that with no pockets on the back, all you really noticed were my peaches.

Alas, the moral of the story is these were impulse buys that have lived on a lot longer in storage than in reality. And truth be told, one wonders if they ever looked all that great. Don't be confused when you see Nicole Richie in skinny jeans- they're almost baggy on her. If you're over 25, there are just so many more flattering things to wear.

Monday's Coffee Break

2006-09-18T14:35:00.000-04:00

I've been MIA for more than a week now. I am swamped with another type of work- namely a lot of research that has nothing to do with baking or cute pieces of furniture.

Oh, how I would love to open a cookbook and make the first thing I come across. My eyes are tired, and my neck just kills from being hunched over my computer for far too many hours this past week and week-end. If anything, I am realizing how fortunate I am not to be doing this type of work day in and out. Granted, I do like the work, just not its intensity. I find, just like when I was in University, that I can only focus on one major project at a time, and then its 24-7 focus i.e. I wear the same outfit every day until my task is complete. I wonder what the meaning behind that is? Maybe it's all apart of assuming a role. Isn't that what clothes do- give us some sort of identity, or at least some identifying feature based on the clothing's variables?

I could digress on that subject, but another thing occurred to me on the weekend. I had read something about how if you look at your closet, you can get a pretty good indication of how you would like to decorate your home colour-wise. I stopped to think of my friends who dress exclusively in neutrals, and sure enough, their homes are neutral. I'm all mish mash, and yes, my home is mish-mash too. Some friends dress with splashes of colour and a neutral base, and their homes are also reflective of that. Maybe this is an obvious thing. I just didn't realize how true it is in reality. I guess our personal spaces, including what we put on our bodies are far more harmonious than I would have thought.

I remember reading something along these lines: when someone asks what a woman's home is like, they are really asking "what is she like."

Adorable

2006-09-01T15:39:00.000-04:00

I found another great store on Queen St. East in Toronto called 'Uppity!'
They have a lot of painted furniture and some unique finds. Very cottage in the city.

I fell for this rustic container- could hold magazines, or anything, really. Have no idea where I'd put it though.

Sorta cute- maybe as a place to put all your cosmetics.

The backyard nook at night. My sister bought me this French provincial tablecloth years ago, and I bring it out anytime we have dinner outside. What a thoughtful gift.

Sorry, no pics of the awesome peach crisp I made for dessert...was gobbled up too quickly. Here are the juicy peaches pre-crisp- the recipe follows. Just love Ontario peaches.

Easy Peach Crisp

1 basket of fresh peaches
1 tbsp sugar
1/2 cup oatmeal
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup flour
dash cinnamon
1/4 cup butter at room temperature

Preheat over to 375. Put peaches in a large pot and bring to a boil. Boil only so slightly. Drain and cool. Peel Skins off with hands (should happen very easily). Slice peaches and remove the pit, piling the slices into a square baking dish- 8" or 9". No need to grease the dish. Mix in tbsp. of white sugar with the peaches.
In a separate bowl combine the oatmeal, sugar, flour and cinnamon. Add the butter and mash with a fork until crumbly. Top peaches with mixture and bake for aprox. 45 min. or sufficiently golden brown.
Tastes wonderful accompanied with vanilla ice cream, and even better with butterscotch ripple!

Facts and Arguments

2006-08-31T11:36:00.000-04:00

Here's a link to an article I read yesterday in the Globe and Mails' Facts and Arguments section. I thought it was a worthwhile read for any mother or future mother. In case the link doesn't work, you can search the title: Mothering here in the land of plenty

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/LAC.20060830.FACTS30/TPStory/?query=mothering+in+the+land+of+plenty

Crafty Bloggers

2006-08-31T10:38:00.000-04:00

I woke up yesterday to the sun shining and a very inviting little nook in my back yard. However, after spending the previous several nights up very, very late reading some other blogs, and with the impeding visit of my in-laws to prepare for, there was no time to enjoy such a fresh almost-fall morning.

Let me digress for a moment about all the blog research I was doing, since I really started my own blog on a whim without much forethought. My research was in part to figure out how to categorize myself. I can't say I have convinced myself that I will always blog about domestic things, though many things can be loosely categorized under this heading, I am truly more Amelia Bedelia than Martha. I actually had to stay after school in grade 8 for remedial Home Ec. because I was always goofing around in the test kitchen sabotaging the meals the teacher would taste test. I was more eager for a laugh than an 'A'. In fact, I actually won the Industrial Arts (read shop) award for a very funky line of jewelry I made from plastic strips, which I have to say is VERY reminiscent of Frank Gehry's new line of jewelry for Tiffany's.
Must dig that little jewel out from storage. Anyway, after surfing for hours over the last few days, I have come to realize there are three very popular categories for female bloggers: the gossip columnists, the mommy-bloggers, and the crafty bloggers. The crafty bloggers may also be mommies, and cooking may also be part of their crafts, but they are serious about making stuff. My favourites in this category so far are Little Birds and Posie.

Not only are these crafty bloggers creative with their hands, but they also happen to be incredible writers. It's enough to make one hang up their blogging shoes, but alas, I have yet to figure out my own voice, and whether I might one day be just as crafty too! By golly, I can be crafty too! Please notice the harvest table in the above pic., which I happened upon at a used furniture store and coated with Thompson's water seal in an attempt to recreate a little European al fresco dining area. See, isn't that sort of crafty? I think crafty, at least where all these blogs are concerned, also means THRIFTY...which really is a talent.

As a side note- I just have to marvel at these impatiens in my backyard. They have died and come back to life more times than one can imagine. They were at their best yesterday, though the picture doesn't quite capture the intensity of their pink petals.

So back to that crafty/thrifty business. Here's a little sideboard I have been working on. Still needs a few touch-ups, but I found the stripped down version at IKEA (in a vow to banish IKEA from my house, I actually bought three new things from there! What is going on?) and painted it radicchio, a colour from Farrow & Ball. I also replaced the hardware. I ran out of paint, so it may sit imperfect for awhile. I find projects like this very gratifying. I love to do things with my hands, and maybe those wonderful bloggers out there are just what I need to get inspired on a regular basis. They really do have a way of fueling one's creative fires.

Les Petit Chose in Leslieville

2006-08-29T17:48:00.000-04:00

I had an interesting day out and about in Leslieville- a very cute little part of Toronto on Queen St. East. Admittedly, Leslieville is a bit rough around the edges, but it's getting there.
I was with my mom, who is adorable, and quite adept at making friends with strangers on the street. We happened upon a lovely flower shop called Wild Thyme, which has a lovely simple aesthetic. I bought this cute plant- called Indian something- because it is very easy to maintain. Apparently the reason my last two plants, purple azaleas, died was because I drowned them. This is what Margaret, the owner of Wild Thyme told me. The number one reason plants die is because people over water. I was so misinformed before- the lady I bought the azalea from told me to give it a cup of water every day. Who knew I was doing it so much harm?

Very happy with my low maintenance plant. It reminds me of the plants Martha has in her new kitchen in the September edition of MS Living. Mind you, hers are bit leafier, and she has five in a cute little row. Anyway, I love my little plant, and I had the best time chatting with Margaret. She has also been salivating over Martha's new kitchen.

The day got even better after leaving Wild Thyme. Margaret, who obviously had quite the impact on me with three name mentions, recommended the little sushi restaurant, Sushi Marche, across the street for take-out. The owner and chef, John Lee, actually trained under the Iron Chef Masaharu Morimoto in Philadelphia. My mother charmed him, and we walked away with the best little sushi lunch for next to nothing...which included the pretty little orchid above. His prices are actually very reasonable- not just for my mom...but we like to think she got a little bit of special attention.

Note to Self: Your Husband Does Not Like Scallops

2006-08-28T20:01:00.000-04:00

My experience this evening is proof for me that my last post was totally right. Let me expand on that- Rachael Ray has very good recipes for the average man. She really does cook for the man's man, however, I did not make one of Rachael's recipes tonight. Instead, I thought I would put more effort into dinner and serve my husband something we don't have very often, scallops.

It really was a lovely dish- the scallops were poached in garlic and white wine, served over a mesclun salad with oranges and red pepper and topped with a citrus vinaigrette. Now maybe this was more of an entree for a ladies lunch- I don't know. But it felt like I was extracting teeth trying to get my husband to eat what was on his plate. "It's not fair to force feed me,"he said. Hmmmn. "I feel like I'm foie gras," he protested after I insisted he eat the last couple of scallops. Is it that hard to eat a couple of perfectly cooked pieces of seafood?

Here I was ready to share a new recipe, but quite frankly, if it doesn't pass the test at dinner, it's not worth anyone else fussing about. Now here's the thing, I thought dinner was okay. The salad dressing was quite tasty, the scallops were succulent, and well, I left the table with a nice comfortably full feeling. Even though dinner was fine by me, if my audience is not applauding, it somehow ruins the experience.

And so I have learned that unless the recipe is centered around steak, I must be weary of the possible feedback. Picky eaters, eh?

For or Against Rachael Ray?

2006-08-28T00:14:00.000-04:00

I have found that amongst my friends who cook, this is a divisive question.

I have two girlfriends who went to school to become professional chefs- oddly enough, after graduation they both went on to different careers. One thinks RR is fun to watch and has some pretty decent recipes. The other, however, and somewhat understandably, was taken aback when I mentioned I was making a lot of her recipes. I did, after all, preface my admission with the fact I was a bit embarrassed that I have become a huge RR fan...at least in print, anyway. I mean, I could never watch her cooking show, and then I saw her on Oprah at Christmas and she was making all these weird things, and using a mirror as a platter...and well, I formed some opinions. That just wasn't my idea of cooking/entertaining. And yet. And yet, somewhere in the back of my head I was wondering about that 5 minute fudge. Then there was all this hype I couldn't avoid. Her name kept coming up over and over again. They even sell her cookbook at the pharmacy!

So, late one evening I decided to do some research. Enter www.rachaelraymag.com. I found a couple of recipes that seemed reasonable, and I was off to the races the very next day. All of a sudden I was getting really excited about each and every recipe. I finally understood the fuss- I just want to make something tasty for dinner but I really don't want to slave over the stove all day. Now don't get me wrong, I am all for gourmet cooking- just not everyday. And so, it is fitting that RR's whole slogan is 'Rachael Ray Everyday'. Quick little recipes make cooking interesting, not exhausting.

My favourite RR recipes thus far, which can be found on the aforementioned website, are:
Brutus Salad
Spring Chili and French Fry Pie-- so trashy with beer in the chili, but very savory.
Tuna Burgers with Ginger Garlic and Soy Sauce
Panzanella Topped Grilled Portobello

For those of you who don't cook, some of these recipes are an easy foray into the kitchen. For those who have higher standards, one of Ray's recipes might be worth a try when no one is looking.

Simple Pleasures

2006-08-24T11:49:00.000-04:00

There are few things I look forward to more than the weekend. There is nothing quite like a Saturday morning with all the windows open and a light breeze streaming through the house, a fresh pot of coffee, the Saturday edition of the Globe and Mail ready to be devoured, and Kathleen Edwards playing in the background. Sun or no sun, this to me is a very languid setting.

If you have yet to own any of Kathleen Edwards' music, I must say, you are missing out. She is a Canadian singer/songwriter who is enormously talented. For me, her songs feel like letters, or stories from a diary- and they always put me in a very mellow mood. Her music is mandatory on a road trip, and the weekends just aren't the same without her. It has become an instinctive reaction whenever I arrive at the cottage, usually late at night, to put on her cd as we unpack the car and settle in for the evening surrounded by the awe-striking beauty of northern Ontario. Her music is the perfect soundtrack for a life in need of pause.

*Highly recommend the song 'Good Things'...almost makes me cry every time.

Organizing Recipes

2006-08-23T15:05:00.000-04:00

If you're anything like me, you have printed dozens of recipes off the Internet, only to have them covered with various ingredients, and then loosely shelved amongst your cookbooks. Craving some sort of system for all of my print-outs (after all, I really want to make some of these meals again without searching for them on the computer), I have come up with a solution. It comes in the form of a clear covered presentation book. I found mine at Staples - I think it was $12- and made by ITOYA (see pic above). Now I feel uber organized as I pull my handy dandy notebook from my cookbook shelf, and I'm not worried in the least about little drips and spills on my pages. I also have a second book for magazine and newspaper tear outs, since paper clutter seems to be my problem du jour.

Best New Product

2006-08-22T22:31:00.000-04:00

If anyone remembers the Martha Stewart version of the Apprentice, they will inevitably remember the 'Tide to Go' episode featuring that very catchy and oh so silly "Tide, Tide, Tide to go, hey I've got Tide to go" cheer. When I first saw that episode I thought the team who wrote the jingle was crazy, until my husband and I were singing it all the time. It just stuck in our heads. TtG wasn't even on the market yet! So of course, as soon as I saw it on store shelves, I had to buy one. Brilliant marketing Procter&Gamble! The nutty thing is, the team who made that silly jingle lost, and I can't even remember what the winning team did.
Well, can I just tell you how I now wonder how I ever got through life without TtG. It's true- you'd think my husband and I were the drippiest, sloppiest bunch of people around, because we've already gone through one pen. I bought a second even before we were through our first because I knew we'd drip our way through the weekend. We use it on EVERYTHING: white sofa cushion and chocolate, white dress and everything I put in my mouth, my shorts, my shirt...you get the idea. No doubt, TtG is my nomination for best new product of the year.

Love it!

2006-08-20T20:33:00.000-04:00

Is this not the cutest settee ever? It's designed by Lee Industries, under the Pine Cone Hill line.
You can visit Leeindustries.com to see more of their designs. It's all wonderful. I am especially a fan of Pine Cone Hill- pineconehill.com and its founder, Anne Selke. Her home was featured in the July issue of House and Garden, which you can access on their website. Selke also designs a line of rugs called Dash and Albert. They are adorable.

So, I happened upon said settee at a furniture store in the Greater Toronto Area, and fell in love instantly. I think it would work wonderfully in my kitchen alongside our kitchen table. My husband's immediate reaction: "impractical". I am of the "if it's the cutest thing you've ever seen, you should really buy it" school. He, on the other hand, is a bit more of a pragmatist. Right, like when we made our list of things we wanted in a house, he wrote a list of objective things i.e. 3 bedrooms, porch, deck etc. I, on the other hand, wrote: lots of light, not a dungeony basement, cute kitchen etc. Anyway, you get the idea- I have a bit of convincing to do on the settee! I'm actually just thinking of getting the pillows- they may appease me for the time being.

Pine Cone Hill has some wonderful and affordable pajamas, and the most refreshing colour combinations in their fabrics. Definitely worth a look.

Welcome!

2006-08-20T19:30:00.000-04:00

Thank you for visiting my new blog: Little Miss Domestic. I am very excited to write about all of my domestic adventures for those of you who are so inclined to read about them. Mainly, I am hoping this site will also be a forum for new ideas, resources, and fabulous domestic products that I come across -including links to great (and easy) recipes.

I realize that being fully domesticated may not be the fashion these days, however, I know there are those of you out there that are just as passionate as I am about making delicious food, finding and creating beautiful things, and even learning a few cleaning tips here and there.

I read a ton, and am often inspired by various magazines, of which I hope to share. In fact, I am a magazine hoarder. I. LOVE. MAGAZINES. It may be a bit of a vice, but we can talk about that some other time.

In the meantime, a little about how I came to have such a passion for "homemaking"- or everything cute about playing house. It probably all started with my mother who is seriously the best cook in the world. She is a genius in the kitchen, with little need for a recipe. She also makes it look very easy. The cleaning and organizing, however (mom, I love you dearly but...), did not come from my lovely mother. In fact, the cleaning really only came with my wedding ring! My last roommate will attest that I thought our clean toilet bowl was simply a result of high quality municipal water- when in reality, she was cleaning it on a regular basis. Anyway- a great tip to a clean washroom is to marry a man who loves to do "jobs". I am, though, super organized. This has always been the case- like when I was in grade four and home with the chicken pox and decided to categorize my closet with a coloured tag and number for each piece of clothing, and then drew up a corresponding list for easy reference. I think that was an early indication I had a need to create some order.

As a new home owner, I get a literal adrenaline rush about every aspect of creating a cute and comfortable home environment. I am still learning- but I think that's the fun part. I will probably be a life learner, as it seems there is just so much to know about domesticating, as well as appreciate. It is often just the simple things that inspire me, like a beautiful flower arrangement, a colour palette I hadn't thought of, an interesting piece of furniture, or a recipe that incorporates an olive tapenade. Seriously, these things make me excited.

While the babies are yet to come, I have the pleasure of time to devote to all of my domestic interests. Some may aptly call it "nesting". And so, with these things in mind, here's to the joy and pleasure (and sometimes challenge), of home domestication.