Woodsmoke and Sock Yarn

It's fine times here this weekend. To start things off, I had my pre-birthday dinner at Enoteca last night. The weather was perfect, the food was terrific, the drinks delicious, the friends awesome. The only hitch was that, while we got there at 5:30 to confirm we'd find a seat on the patio* (they only take reservations inside, which we had as a fall-back), some idiot woman took the one spot in the shade that could work for 6. She had to have arrived before they opened so I guess she wins.

At any rate, the sun was behind a building within an hour and the night could not have been better. Little twinkly lights, superb service (as always). I do love a place that comps me (disclaimer - I eat there often) - our desserts were gifts as was a round of bitters when the meal was over. It was all toasts to Kristin, all the time. I can't say I'm one of those people who freaks out if you sing happy birthday to her on a patio :-)

The walk home was temperature-perfection and I was shocked to find it was 10:30 when I opened my front door. That evening flew by.

Today I went out to buy myself a few treats. First up, I've figured out how to make socks with no remnants to contend with. Since I use 75g per pair of socks, 300g of yarn (generally split into 3 100g skeins, as sock yarn is wont to be packaged) turns into 4 pairs of socks. Three of those 4 are made from the individual skeins of yarn. The 4th is a mash up of the remains of the first 3. The key is to make sure (or to hope) that the yarns for the 4 pair of socks will work together.

I went for these options because I couldn't stand knitting with another solid while everything around me is so colourful:

The grey yarn at the top is Koigu (a perennial fave that comes in 50g skeins - hence 2 balls). The other yarns are made by Regia, a German yarn which is indestructible. I'm sure I've mentioned that I'm still wearing one pair 3 years later...

These skeins are fun because they're self-striping. The blue/purple combo  does this crazy pattern, all on its own:

Regia Arne & Carloss - Tokke

I've wanted to try it for a while because, that's a lot of pattern for yarn you just hold an knit.

This is what the grey yarn looks like, once knit:

Regia Relax Color - Stone

I've been all over the greys and neutrals lately (not that the Tokke sock is particularly neutral) so I'm sticking with my preferred palette.

I also got myself a new body scrubber and a box of Paine's Cedar:

You know of my endless love of wood smoke. These little pellets burn in about 10 minutes and they make your house smell like a forest or an expensive fence! Not incense-y like something you find at the hippie store.

Just ordered my fave vegetarian delivery - Fresh. I've got a Big Salad (with avocado, hemp hearts and marinated tofu), my fave Cacao/maca smoothie and quinoa onion rings wending their way to me.

Sure, it would have been smarter to do yoga before I ordered the food - how can I pair the yummies with a chilled Rioja if yoga awaits? Something's gotta give and I really don't know which one it's going to be?!

Scott's off visiting his parents and M is working (mercifully). Today she advised me that she has disowned me and changed my name on her phone from Mum to Kristin. I did opt to dig a little by asking her whether she'd spelled it correctly...

Quick Update: The food just arrived and the onion rings are hot. I believe the Rioja wins.

Update on the Update: I ate the onion rings only, waited 45 min and then did yoga. Awesome forward bend practice. Now for the salad and Rioja.

* Note: On a gorgeous Friday evening in Toronto, you do not fuck around when it comes to getting a seat on a good patio , even if the food is meh. At a great restaurant, you do what you must to be there when the place opens. There was not a seat to be had outside from 6 until 10 pm.

Up in Arms

A few times a year, and especially in the miserable, freezing winter, I try to get to afternoon tea at the famed boutique hotel, the Windsor Arms. This chic and elegant bastion of Toronto the Good is a pleasant reminder of my youthful affluence, and a place I can pull out all the anachronistic mannerisms I so rarely have a chance to flaunt.

I lunched, with my great, long time childhood friend Hilary, on delightful spiral sandwiches topped with coral-hued caviar and amazing scones, clotted cream and pastries. It was a veritable festival of carbohydrates (though I did manage to eat my body weight in various permutations of cream).

Hilly, who arrived first, was shown into the fireplace room, to a choice table in the fray. But, with the wisdom that comes from being the mother (of a preschooler and a toddler) liberated from parenting for 3 short hours, she requested instead another table just as far away from a two-year old as we could possibly get! And when that Burberry-dressed little scamp started screaming, well, we were at the best table in the house.

The conversation wandered - as it does with old friends - to family and shared history. But we hit on the high-points of feminist parenting, the things we've managed to accomplish and the ways in which we continue to strive, the challenges and joys of daily life. I am so grateful to have her as my friend. She is a stalwart constant amongst shifting markers and tides and priorities. She is the object of my great affection and love and respect.

But, a propos of great design - this week's theme, here are a couple of photos of the tea salon:

These lovely teapots held aromatic lavender and rose blends.

Turns out, the Dupuis people were having a little diamond auction in the main restaurant next door to the tea salon:

At one point, I considered sneaking my way in, picking up a paddle and bidding 32 grand on a jewel. But then I remember I need to get WendyB that little Brigid Berlin pillow for her bday so I really should maintain a smidge of liquidity. Man, the recession is such a bore! :-)

Here's a shot of the hotel cocktail bar. This photo doesn't do justice but it's a silvery lavender colour.

And finally, here's a shot of Hilly on the street ouside the entrance. Not only does she look lovely, but it's a great shot of a very elegant coat her mother (perhaps the chicest woman in the world) recently bought for her as a gift. It's cashmere, vintage and Italian. Biggen up the picture to see it's gorgeous lines.

Dramatic Reenactment of a Scene that Never Happened*

* Or did it? :-)

(Ed Note: The performance artist in me has been seeking a minuscule fissure in the veneer of personal correctness behind which we conduct most of our life. Apparently, she's found it... Matt (the world's sexiest guy who knows about shoes) has generously agreed to let me use a montage of pics he sent me recently. Of course, he has no idea in what crazy context he's about to be portrayed. Thank you Mattie! Or sorry...)

The year is 1987. George Michael plays endlessly on AM radio. Cell phones are the size of Geiger counters. Hair is the height of cell phones. Girls just wanna have fun.

Except this one:



She prefers to imagine fun. Everything she knows about fun she learned from Hollywood Husbands, which she hides under her mattress lest the housekeeper discover it while tidying up. Frankly, fun concerns her. But not enough to put the book down.

Next door, a boy moves in. He's from Australia, visiting relatives for the summer. He's older and mysterious with an accent she can barely understand. Occasionally, they chat on his porch. For some reason, her reminds her of Jack Python. He's got a number of friends though he's only just arrived. They all go driving together and, when they get back, his friends seem quite amused. They think she's prissy. They try to set him up with other girls. He seems to like those girls. His interest in our heroine wanes.


But she can't seem to get him out of her mind. What is it? Boredom? Infatuation? Hormones? Slowly, she realizes, it might benefit her to change her ways. She considers how Madonna might approach this dilemma. She buys some new shoes:


She wonders how on earth one walks in these things - and what to wear them with:


A binge at the mall, during which she spends all of her birthday money from the last 3 years, yields some choice finds. They make her punchy...

...Increase her confidence:


She buys some makeup. Tries a cigarette. Considers him while she's smoking. Smokes some more.


One day, on the way to the library, she runs into him on the street. He tells her how, um, different she looks. His friend, who's with him, does not make fun of her after she continues on her way. Instead he stares at her well-proportioned bottom. He suggests our hero invite her to the Motley Crue concert that Saturday night. He's welcome borrow his friend's Camaro:


(Apparently the back is roomier than it looks.)

She says yes, and begins to assemble a suitable get-up. This, to match the car?:



Or this?:



What will he wear, she wonders? A knock at the door reveals it:


He really does have the hottest biceps.

And his shoes are freakin' awesome.


You gotta know that, like every good smutty book, this doesn't end well. But it sure is fun while it lasts.