March Break - Activity # 3

As per usual, we have used our holiday to do home renovations.  The first goal on Dave's list was to tackle the spare room.  Or rather, the Barney room as we had aptly named it. You see, when we moved in, the room had been a little girl's bedroom.  And for some reason, perhaps because this sweet 6 year old had been able to choose the colour, it was the colour of a popular  large dinosaur from the early part of the decade.  To say the very least, it was offensive.  

So, armed again with a giant pail of primer, Dave happily began to tackle this room as the next room in a series we like to call The Olden's Paint Everything.  

So far, we had painted the main floor powder room and the dining room and the study.  The powder room, if you remember from a past post, was the room with the lovely teal textured walls that needed to be sanded down and Greco-Roman light fixture that smoked from the halogen lights that were in it.  

This is it now:

The print on the wall is from one of my favorite Canadian artists, the late Norval Morrisseau.  He is considered the "Picasso of the North" and as an Anishinaabe artist his works feature the beauty of Canadian Aboriginal spirituality and mysticism.  This particular work is entitled A Branch From The Tree of Heaven.

Though not nearly as well known, Dave is also a skilled artist with a paint brush.  In later posts I will show the final result of the study and the dining room, but here, I actually managed before and after shots of the Barney room, so I figured I would post them ASAP.  

 There is something to be said for a man who has a thirst for painting.  Look at the sense of satisfaction he has as he rolls the last bit of primer over the abomination that was the purple walls.  Pure joy I tell you; that is pure joy!





I have a bit of a commitment issue when it comes to paint colours.  I know how absolutely temporary they are, but I still break into a sweat having to make the final decision in the paint store.  Inevitably, I always hate the colour for about two weeks after it goes on the wall. Here is the final result of our spare room.

It has all the furniture from the spare room in the old house (a.k.a. my old university furniture) , so I think maybe it is throwing me off, but it has only been a few days, so I have miles to go until I love it.  The main thing is, NO BARNEY!!!! And that's what counts isn't it?  

And as I type, Dave is filling the walls and sanding in the laundry room and bathroom.  I suppose I should get back to him. It is, of course, The Olden's Paint Everything, so that means  both of us...

March Break - Activity # 2

Our egg tree on the foyer table

So, I love Easter. That's right, Easter.
In fact, it is my absolute favorite holiday of the year (All Hallows Eve being the next runner up).  Faith aside, and believe me, most of the reason I love this holiday has everything to do with my faith, I think it is the most beautiful and hopeful holiday of the year.  In the colour department it is absolutely the most pretty, and in the season department it brings Spring. Who couldn't love Easter?

On the faith side, Easter ultimately means that we all have a new start. We can brush off the dust and crap like the Winter leftovers that remain from the thaw and like an Easter egg, we are given a chance for a fresh start at beautiful new beginning.  Easter and Spring bring us re-birth like a cuddly baby little lamb after a long time in the barn.  That's Easter to me.

My birthday is in March, and as a result, all my life I have received gifts that somehow had a connection to Easter.  At some point people began giving me bunnies and it became a birthday trend that turned into an homage of seasonal decor.  It also doesn't hurt that the scent of Easter lilies and hyacinths is the best smell on earth (next to a freshly tilled garden) and it is also my birthday smell, if you will indulge a person to have a birthday smell. So, as a result of combined celebrations,  I have embraced this holiday season by filling our house with all the Easter things I love.  Dave just smiles with that, "look how I managed to domesticate the wild one" look as I participate in these sorts of things.

This year I was determined to have an Easter egg wreath for our front door.  Dave humored me as we went on a hunt (no pun intended) for this egg wreath.  We searched high and low. I think I may have been in every shop in our town to find one, but to no avail. Those I found were either ugly or too small.  Then it dawned on me! Why not just make one? So I did...

I decided that the best place to make this project was at my family flower shop.  For 16 years I have had the luxury of easy access to supplies of the trade at my finger tips.  Though this was not at all going to test my floral skills, it gave me the excuse to hang out with my sister while I dipped my cute little eggs in the hot glue pan.

There was a need for me to scout out just the right eggs for this project.  The right melange of eggs is key to ultimate curb-appeal once on the door.  These were two sizes, some glittery and some beaded.

This is the standard wicker frame I decided to use.  Not too heavy but nice and strong.

This is the pile as I take a break from gluing.  They started off as eggs on a metal pick, so thanks to Max, I did not have to cut a million eggs off their wires!  That's love I tell you.

Here is the final product on our front door. Gone are the very yellowed Christmas containers and greenery.  Now we have a festive little purple urn with artificial forsythia and the ultimate egg wreath.  

I am thinking I might need to scout out an Easter door mat though, don't you think?  I pulled out our summer one and it's just not doing it for me.  The hunt continues... 

A Pre-Break Culinary Adventure

Just one more bite Davey... you can do it!

For over a year it has been a small goal of Dave and mine to dine at Nick and Nat's Uptown 21 in Waterloo. Early on in our relationship we realized that we might be what one calls a 'foodie', however Yuppie that may sound. The reality is, we love to eat, we love great food, and we are super critical...ok, maybe not critical, let's say discerning, and we are not afraid to try anything. In fact, for years we have thrown around the idea of writing our own critical reviews for hungry couples. Wow, I just realized the multi-layered context with which that last sentence could be interpreted!


Anywho, back to the subject at hand, Nat and Nick's. Dave and I were cursed with never finding the time when this cute little secret of a restaurant was open to partake in its awesomeness; then it happened, last weekend we finally ate there! And let me tell you, it was WELL WORTH THE WAIT.

To begin, we sat at the chef's bar which makes you practically a sous-chef in the kitchen. You are literally on the other side of the counter. This may be the most deadly seat in the house as you can watch the entire menu as it is prepared. If you have a hard time choosing your meals, this will not make it easier! We had not planned on going anywhere for dinner that night so we were dressed in our usual weekend uniform of jeans and hoodies. Of course I was wearing my purple Wellies . It was a busy Saturday night and we stuck out like sore thumbs, but by the end of the night, I'm sure they were happy they seated us.

We started off with our appetizers, both of which were fois gras based. Dave's croquette was divine as was my terrine plate.

As our seconds, Dave enjoyed the mussels in a tomato and olive based melange that payed respect to the awesomeness of layered fresh herbs. My salad was a testament to the greatness of freshly grated cheese on anything.

Our mains did not disappoint. Dave had the lobster and shrimp dish and I had the steak. The fish was to die for and the delightful rub on the steak was a perfect frame for the care taken in its aging and preparation. We could not drive the option of the homemade squash ravioli from our minds, so we also shared a half order of them and did not regret our choice!


It should be noted, that at this point in the meal I reminded Dave that there was no shame in turning to our Greek / Roman forefathers in our time of need. Dionysus / Bacchus had a suggestion for dealing with the 'can't eat another bite' feeling. Dave simple looked at me with an unimpressed look. Good golly, it was just a suggestion! Instead we rested and digested before our final selections.

Dessert for me was tempura apple dumplings. Dave had the creme brule. We also shared the homemade berry gelato. When we were done nothing but a sprig of mint remained!

The price for our meal was well in keeping with the dynamic changes that are being seen in uptown Waterloo with the addition of higher end dining options. There is no question that the value and quality of our meal more than justified the price (which really was not outrageous). It also helped that it was annual bonus time for the Olden family!

We cannot wait to go back. In fact, we have already begun to plan our next menu choices. Since it is and ever changing menu of local produce, I suppose we will need to make it soon; poor us! ;)

March Break - Activity # 1

There are a variety of activities that Dave and I will be undertaking this March Break.  As per usual, they will revolve primarily around home improvement projects.  There were plans that we might actually take a honeymoon, but why on earth would we do that? We would rather continue to be frugal and mature with our earnings and deprive ourselves of fun in order to be debt free (please feel free to wipe up any extra sarcasm that may be getting on you).

Alas, my primary goal now is to have a number of posts up regarding the break as it unfolds, but for now, please enjoy a few pictures of the only member of the family actually enjoying the break... Miss Le Fluff herself.

Here Humphery is watching The Westminster Kennel Club finals.  No, this is not a set up, it was actually on and I was listening to it while I was sewing in the other room.  I came in to find her in this position.

Here she seems to be quite struck by Ladybug, the Portuguese Water Dog.  Later on Humphery would go on to tell me she thought that Ladybug only won her Best In Breed because she is the same breed as the Obama's dog.

Here Miss Le Fluff is caught red-pawed watching the final awarding of Best in Show.  She later reported that she felt that the winning dog, Hickory the Scottish Deerhound, was much deserving of the award.  She felt it was high time that Hickory get time in the spotlight as she would be retiring after this year.  I personally think Humphery was a little geriatrically empathetic and bias.

The Olden family would like to congratulate Hickory on her win. Bravo, Hickory, Bravo!

Ahhhh, Family Day

A view so lovely you would never
know it was the middle of February

When the Ontario government introduced the idea of a long weekend in February, I thought the idea was ridiculous, never mind the rant that ensued between myself and the T.V. about how unfair this was to the people that did not have a family, or those that did not subscribe to the idea of what is considered the 'traditional' model of a family. However, as a Canadian, who am I to throw away a long weekend given to me by the grace of the ever omniscient government?  Damn it, I was determined to make the best of it this year!

As all good family outings begin, I decided that Family Day was going to be the ideal day to look for dinning room chairs.  Nothing says family like dinning room, so hence, this was my rationale.  I convinced Dave that Stoney Creek Furniture was going to be the answer to our chairlessness. He agreed on the road trip and off we went in Dave's car (aka The Smartie).

As with every trip to the Hamilton area, we planned our schedule to include a trip to Hutch's on the beach. I was first introduced to Hutch's just prior to my moving to Hamilton (Ah, Hamilton; I can't say I was sad to leave)  when, as a right of passage you could say, Dave brought me to the hallowed location that serves the best fish and chips in the ENTIRE UNIVERSE.  Hutches was a tradition for Dave, his siblings, and his cousins when they were growing up.  Dave's Opa would bring the kids down to the beach on the weekend and inevitably end up at Hutch's. To say the very least, this is a very special place for Dave and, though it was the reason for serious weight gain while I lived down the street, it has become a very special place for me as well.

Same awesome sign with neon fries!

The ordering is simple at Hutch's.  You have a small fish and chips or you have a large.  The interior is straight from the original 50's when they first opened.  They wrap your order in newspaper and there is only one size of drink.  It is very easy to feel like you have traveled back in time and the comfort that comes from realizing that there really is somewhere in the world that has never changed is something that cannot be replaced.  The customers come from every walk of life and I always choose to sit at a booth that is next to a sweet old couple.  I like to think that they too came to this place when they were first married, then with their children and still now that they have grown old with one another.

I think I can hear my arteries crying.

The large fish and chips is bigger than one person can consume and always goes home with you.  Believe me, there are actually two giant pieces of fish below that pile of fries!

The very best part of any meal at Hutch's is the extra fries that are saved for seagulls that circle the beach outside the back door that leads to the beach. Though I know there is a very good chance that I might be crapped on,  I always throw some fries into the air to see the chaos that will ensue.  After all, tradition is tradition.

Hitchcock anyone?

Though we had some serious issues finding dinning room chairs, and came home empty handed (except for the leftovers) we found exactly what we were looking for at Hutch's. We found tradition and a chance to celebrate family. We had an amazing chance to celebrate Opa's life and memory on a beautiful day at one of his favourite places. If this isn't the point of family day, I don't know what is. 

Seriously, Like Really...Seriously?!?!

Being a secondary school teacher has eliminated some of my tendency to be surprised.  In fact, I think maybe, looking back on some of my childhood photos, I have always sported a bit of a bemused look.  I am often found saying to Dave, "seriously? Like really, seriously? Are you kidding me? " And it is always done with a sort of unimpressed look on my face.  


Lately, I have coined a few new personal catch phrases. The most important of which, is the product of my new phone.  Yes, that's right folks!  I finally gave in and purchased a new phone.  This is a really big deal because I was still using a cell phone that made me look like I should be in a re-run of Miami Vice.  My mantra was, "hell, all I need to do is call people.  What's the big deal?" And truly, it wasn't a big deal... until I started texting!!!!! Texting sucked me in and opened a new world to me.  It was EPIC!!! But, for those of you who are hip to the electronic world, I was using T9 to do so.  The result was frustration and messages that took aeons to send.  Total chaos I tell you. 


I would like to make an aside comment here...
Dave does not, and has never, had a cell phone.  This issue is something that really requires its own post.  However, he has made fun of my propensity for cell phone use since the beginning of time.  Dave helped encourage me to buy the new phone!!! 


So, as a Mac user I waited with baited breath for the new iPhone 4. That's right, the mother of all phones.  Sure it was going to be one billion dollars to purchase, but I figured that with the amount of time I kept a cell phone, this baby would pay for itself a million times over. So, after much waiting, I went to buy one.  And I was rejected. They were sold out!!!   I waited forever to finally get one and in September I finally managed to pick one up.  That was the day the world changed.  No longer was I just texting. No no, I had all the information in the world at my fingertips. Every time I started a sentence with, " I wonder who..." or "I wonder where..." I could find out the answer.  How? Well, with the help of my new awesome phone, and my new catch phrase - "TO THE APPLE!"


That's right. I am fighting the new Microsoft ad 'To the cloud' with my own gorilla tactics.  And it's working.  Now all the people I know who have the same phone have begun to repeat it. It's kind of what the guys who coined "who let the dogs out" must have felt like!


Now, awesome wordplay is not the only product from this wonderful invention.  I have started to have Dave stop and help me chronicle things for the blog.  We use to have the camera with us most of the time, but now we just use my phone. And thanks to the phone, you too can enjoy a segment of our lives we have begun calling... 

YOU HAVE GOT TO BE JOKING ME!

Entry #1
We decide we are going to enjoy a night with meat.  That's right, meat.  We have not purchased a new BBQ since moving and have no way of grilling up a steak.  We stupidly go to the local chain of sports bar and grills in our area.  They have a special, 5oz steak for some cheap price.  We laugh and give in (who really eats only 5oz of steak? We have to see it for ourselves). It comes out and looks like this:

Like really? You have got to be joking me.


Entry #1 B
Further on in our meal Dave empties a ramekin of tartar sauce from our appetizer (you have to have an appetizer if your steak is only going to be 5oz) into his potato.  Please don't ask me why you would put tartar on a potato. Then he hears a metal 'clink' from the bottom of the plastic ramekin. There is an American nickel in the sauce!!!!! My OCD goes through the roof, I almost barf. Dave continues to eat his meal as he believes there is nothing to be done at this point anyway. 

Like really?  You have got to be F***king joking me!!!!!!!!


Entry # 2
We decide to go on a very long drive to the surrounding towns in our area.  We are starving (it's starting to look like we eat out a lot) and we decide we cannot get to the next town.  We stop at a little family restaurant. We order French Onion soup and sandwiches.  Four sips into our soup our mouths start to decompose from the salt lick that is our soup.  Never mind the cheese slice that is not melted on the top.  "To The Apple" we check out a review and see that the food is rated 1 star by all five people who have rated it and that's because the website does not allow 'no star' ratings.  I recount this to Dave and he looks like this:

I believe his face is saying, you have got to be joking me!


Entry # 2B
We are leaving the town (with MSG poisoning and a hankering for a trough of water) and I have to stop to take a photo of the welcome sign into the town. The first descriptor has me killing myself laughing.  Please note, this town is by no means raised in elevation.  And, this might explain why the residents have only half a gun turret from a tank in their park and it might be why they are willing to eat just about anything...

This had me peeing my pants!  You have got to be joking me!

A little piece of light...

For  over a decade I have had the amazing opportunity to have one of the most fabulous women in the whole world as my best friend. Funny enough, we certainly did not start off as friends; rather, we were archrivals. 

When I was a bright eyed and eager student (please insert sarcasm), my high school had a very small population; 300 students at the very most when I was in grade 9. The reason being, we were to be the third graduating class from this newly formed secondary school that was created to serve the students of "the north" in the school board. This descriptor is ridiculous for so many reasons; one being that the school is 45 minutes from Toronto. However, I digress…

In grade 9 I was a sweet, mostly innocent, very neurotic girl who was very intelligent and very under motivated. I knew I was bright but I really couldn’t care less about academic achievement because I had discovered the glorious world of older boys! That was so much better to focus on than “Le Geographie du Monde” (I was in French Immersion).  Then I entered my English class… 

I remember that I sat in a group of six. At the time, the government was attempting a lame experiment in what they called “destreaming”.  Simply, the perceived academic level of students was mixed in one class. Though this "let’s hold hands and sing Kumbaya to warm the hearts of all the students" approach was delightful in theory, it didn’t last long. In retrospect it may have actually been some sort of provincial Darwinian experiment. The product being students who were willing to eat the weak for breakfast and make themselves feel better as they battled against their genius rivals. This was exactly the environment of my English class, and this fateful English class was where Kari Lyn and I eyed each other from afar and began our battle for supremacy in the pack.  I did not care to be top of my class, but I cared about being better than Kari Lyn. The same was true of her.  The problem was, we were both bright and the competition was stiff.

Now, not to get too far into the Magic Carpet Ride that was my high school career, but with the school being as small as it was, it was easy to know everyone; if not by name, than at least by face.  I was a bit of a social butterfly.  I hung out with almost every group of people really. I don’t remember them as cliques per say, but maybe they were. I had one group of friends I was closest to, but I really can say that I was lucky enough to be able to associate with most people.  When our senior classes came along the classes were very small. I was in class with Kari Lyn almost every period of the day. Then finally, in World Geography the worst happened… Mr. Bradley sat us together. 


We had gotten to know each other better over the years as we were both on Student Council, but there was still a rivalry.  We were there to outdo each other and that’s what we did. Until one day, we decided on a truce. We were both going to give in because by this time the teachers just gave us the same marks to keep us quiet. We realized that we were stronger together than we were apart… look out world!

Over the past years we have had our share of serious ups and downs, but we have always been there for one another.  When Kari Lyn and her husband had their first son I was chosen to be his godmother.  Whenever we have had the world deal us a crappy hand, we have known that the other was just a call away.  Then the worst happened, Kari Lyn’s mom got sick.

Kari Lyn’s mom, Karin, impressed me the moment I met her.  I remember it like yesterday. We were at school for some event hosted by the Student Council and Kari Lyn’s parents were in attendance. Her father walked in at a strapping 6 foot 8 inches following the cutest little thing you could imagine; a women, all of 5 foot tall in a wheelchair, that had a smile that lit up the room.  From that moment, both her parents took me on as their fourth child. They have treated me as such since that day. 

Karin had always been in a wheelchair.  She was born with Spina bifida and had never let it effect the way she looked at life.  She had an intense faith in God and believed that with his help, anything was possible.  The fact that she was in a chair never came into question. She gave birth to three children and took care of all of their needs as she raised them with her husband.  Though she was told at an early age that she would have a short life, she continued her whole life to defy medicine and the limitations that others put upon her.  She was a huge spirit in a little body. 


A little over two years ago she had not been feeing well and in a divine turn of events she and her husband were in a car accident.  The emergency surgery that followed the accident revealed that she had cancer.  To say the least, everyone was devastated. Following mind-blowing surgeries, Karin forced on and fought the disease. To be frank, I don’t think anyone was surprised. There was never a moment I ever saw Karin back down from any form of adversity. This Christmas Karin was feeling in better spirits.  She enjoyed the holiday with her family and shared quality time.  Then her body began to fight back.  After a courageous battle with cancer, her disease and the complications that come with it defeated the woman I considered to be like a second mom. She passed away last Saturday.

There is no amount of writing that could ever adequately express my respect and admiration for Karin. Though I must tell you that my best friend is an absolutely amazing depiction of the values and tenacity that her mother had.  At the risk of sounding cliché and pouring out platitudes, I will say that there is no replacement for any of us on this planet.  Each of us is a unique and divine creation that imprints upon the others we are blessed enough to meet. I am a better person for having known such an extraordinary woman, and it is my responsibility to carry on a piece of her light now that she cannot do it here on earth. I only hope I can do it half as well as she did it!