Vincent is my absolute favourite. J'adore.

Terms of Endearment

I always thought that there had to be at least a thirty year age gap before you could address someone other than a spouse or partner as Darling or Sweetheart. My grandmother called me Poppet, my mother called me Old Bean and my father called me Sweet Pickle. None of them are lovely, are they? For a short time I envied the girl down the street whose father called her Princess. Other childhood observations brought to light that old women were sometimes called Dear by service or health care workers. Even as a child I knew it was patronizing. If any young perky thing calls me Dear when I'm hospitalized with old agedness I shall swiftly make a connection between the impudent young thing's head and the bed pan. I intend to be a cantankerous old thing. Don't Dearie me.

Of course I'm telling whoppers. I'll do no such thing and I probably will be a sweet old dear, doddery and confused. I call my students Sweetheart or My Love quite often, and I truly do mean it. By November I have fallen in love with them. Terms of endearment should be used honestly. Do you really feel affection for this person you are addressing? Is the affection likely to be returned? Do you know each other well or have you had such a longstanding aquaintanceship that there is a history involved? I had a very stiff and formal grandfather who didn't really know how to interact with children other than that they should be seen and not heard. When I was around eighteen he began to call me Darling. It is also what he called my grandmother and my mother. It seemed natural that at that point I belonged with the adult females whom he loved and I had graduated to my new title, Darling.

On the other hand, unlike my grandfather, you may be a natural ebullient and flamboyant person, and terms of endearment may be part of your style. I remember as a little girl watching Zsa Zsa Gabor on television calling everyone Darling and I thought it was quite funny. My friend and I imitated her when we played.

"Daaahling, did you know I've just married another husband?"

"Yes, Daaahling he is number 27. I am such a lucky vooman."

"And Daahling vould you just look at my diamond!"

A new and much appreciated acquaintance has put these thoughts into my head and I am grateful for the opportunity to reminisce a little. So, Dearest, when you read this and suspect that you have provoked it, please do be flattered. Know that I appreciate you and look forward to either developing a lengthy history of acquaintanceship or perhaps, who knows, we may break through the artificiality of the internet and call ourselves friends. Call me whatever you like. I'm happy that you call.

Santa Baby......I don't want fur, diamonds or a cadillac.

In My Dreams

I came across these photos of the Paris apartment belonging to Loulou de la Falaise. The article and photos are from The Daily Mail, March 2008. I 'm sure I could live in this apartment. I usually don't care for white walls but these look creamy and warm, and there is plenty of warm wood and other colours. I also am not usually a fan of chandeliers, but I might be changing my mind. My taste runs a little more to Arts and Crafts but....I could get very carried away with textiles.

And here is my oh so clever segue-Loulou designs jewelry-the bracelets above are gorgeous-and I love jewelry too.

Quel surprise!

Diamonds might be a girl's best friend but they are too colourless for my liking.

Musings on Being Canadian

I don't know why I woke up today thinking about patriotism. In the middle of November we are about as far as we can get from celebrating Canada day. Not that I celebrate it. It began with the truly boring lyrics of our national anthem running through my mind. I've worked in schools where we sang the anthem every day and others where it was sung only at assemblies. Currently, the school where I teach aims to sing it every Monday morning. Students don't want to sing it; I must regularly remind some to stand respectfully and not lean on their desks, and most eleven year old bottoms are in the chairs again by the time the last vibrations of music are still fading away. I last sang O' Canada on Wednesday, at the Remembrance day ceremony. It was followed by God Save The Queen, which has such little relevance these days. Personally I believe in neither God or the Queen, although the Queen seems like a nice person and God does not.

I decided to troll through Flickr commons and look for images of Canada. These are typical tourist photos, so it is possible that they show me Canada through the eyes of visitors. Most are nature photos. We do have cities in Canada, although we have a lot of nature too. It is beautiful, yes, and familiar so it does reach my stony little heart but there are beautiful places all over the world so I don't think that the beauty of Canada's nature is any reason to feel patriotic.

We're known for being friendly, apologetic and non-violent. In a country so physically vast there are such regional differences amongst people I just don't understand how these stereotypes can fit all people. When I visit the United States, I find people extremely friendly and in a great big rush to tell me how much they love Canadians ad Canada. In Canada we like to make fun of Americans for knowing so little about us. We also look scornfully on the American predilection for self promotion. If we aren't going to promote ourselves, then how can we expect our neighbours to really know anything about us.

I am grateful to live in a country where I am free. I am proud of our liberal attitudes where even our so called Conservatives are more liberal than the American Democrats. Yes, I would fight for those things. I would fight to remain more liberal than our friendly American neighbours. But I use the term fight broadly. Canada has a history with more meetings and paper work than battles. It isn't exciting to read about, but it is consistent with my values. I don't know that I would choose battle to defend what I believe in. It would sure depend on how much I had to loose.

Is that patriotism? It's about all you're going to get from me. No flag waving. No ideals about Canadian values rescuing the world. I'm more interested in my relationship with all people from all over the world, with our vast differences and our even more vast similarities. Our human frailties and our human strengths. I want a world anthem to sing. One about peace and love and helping each other. It may not be realistic but it could be filled with hope. I guess that's why my son calls me a hippie.

(above photos from flickr)

I was in the mood for blue images today. It's too bad that feeling blue means feeling sad because I would like it to mean desirous of a calm environment. That's a typical feeling for me on a Friday.

It looks like it might be a sunny weekend which means I'll try to get outside and dig up the dahlia tubers. We haven't replaced the grass in the front garden since digging everything up for irrigation. Mud mud mud but I have my beloved neoprene boots. I think they would look great with purple velvet pants and a mustard or burnt orange jacket but such items are not in my closet. Sigh.....

So on a typical Friday night I drink a glass of wine in my cozy living room, often with a fire in the fireplace, and indulge in a magazine. I read a large variety of magazines, everything from Skeptic to Vogue. On Friday I like a glossy where all I have to do is look at pictures. Sometimes I take the wine and the glossy to my deep soaker tub, add some fruity scented bubbles, a little candlelight and........aaahhhhh.

But........

I am going to the theatre tonight. Doesn't that sound glamourous? Should I get out my diamonds? In my community, the theatre is amateur but that suits me just fine. Some people will dress up in their best clothes, some will choose their most arty ensemble and others will look like they just came from a day hiking in the local mountains. I just hope no idiot sits there with his ball cap on through the whole show.

I'm trying to be modern; I am a hat lover, but I just can't stand guys wearing ball caps indoors. I glared at a parent who wore his through the whole Remembrance Day assembly at school on Tuesday, but he was too busy taking pictures of his cute kid putting a poppy on the wreath to notice me. -Okay rant done. I put it at the end so you could skip it as soon as you saw it was a rant.

blue door

blue door
Originally uploaded by alexanderhamdy

I love a door with bright colour.