Back to school, just like that

The last time I took a night class, it was Introduction to Broadcast Journalism.  Ten months later I was in the full time program.  Ten years later, I still love getting paid to observe and report, and I'm finally taking that sewing class.

In ten 3 hour Saturday sessions, I will learn how to interpret a pattern, stitch up at least one simple dress complete with fusing for reinforcement, on an industrial sewing machine.

If I had been bold enough to follow my heart years ago, I would have pursued acting or fashion design.  I was always a dramatic child, and I'm told I was coordinating my own outfits at three.

At 14, I saw Pretty in Pink.  By 16 I bought my first vintage gown with the intention of transforming it just like Molly Ringwald's character did.  It didn't work out for me then.  The yellow satin dress (sort of rescued by a real tailor) was a disaster, so was the prom. Over the years I butchered many perfectly good garments, determined to turn scraps into sartorial works of art. Eventually I gave up and stuck with hemming curtains, and the occasional pair of pants, constrained only by a lack of skill.

Now I am reclaiming the dream, one small step at a time.

One class down, and I can thread a bobbin, stitch a straight line, a curved one, even a zig zag - on paper.  Next week we graduate to fabric.  Already, I am a card carrying member of Fabricland.  Tailor's chalk, a seam ripper, a tracing wheel and hand sewing needles were part of my first purchase.  So was some pretty cool fabric and a hideous pattern for a tunic dress everyone in the class has to sew.

I am as giddy as a school girl.

Bikram comes after my butt.

I have survived my first hot yoga class.

Barely. 

I have sweated profusely and cleansed myself of toxins.  I may have burned 12-hundred calories. I'm pretty sure I watched my belly fat melt before my sweating eyeballs.

The workout is one thing.  Getting used to contortion in humidity more suited to a eucalyptus steam at the spa, is quite another.

At one point, I actually thought I might collapse. But ego would not let me down.  My weakness would be kept from my hardbodied classmates.

I have been told  5 to 6 times a week for as little as 3, and a firmer version of myself will emerge.  I'm also counting on the better sleeps and emotional balance that came with running.  I've been pining for those goodies since a bad case of plantar fasciitis, (a foot pain as bad as its name makes it sound), made me hang up my runners for now.

So back to Bikram I go. By the way, the Bikram studio at Lansdowne in Richmond, is offering a special introductory rate: 2 weeks, $30, for all the hot, sweaty yoga you can handle.

My Pro Photographer, My New Best Friend

Jeff and I decided to supplement our wedding picture collection with some pro shots taken during the day, in a more relaxed setting, in better weather, in one of our favourite spots in the world. 

So on Friday, we got all dressed up again and hit Jericho beach with the fabulous Leanne Liakos. 

With beehived hair and false eyelashes applied, without a girdle and with tremendous gratitude, I just managed to squeeze back into the gown. 

I'm not sure how many pics Leanne took (still waiting for the final product).  But even she agreed we might be on to something.  We saved a ton of dough (just happened to catch her Spring Portrait Special), we were spared the pressures that family can sometimes add, and we were minus any strict timeline.

The results as we've seen them so far, are brilliant.  Leanne captured  the essence of who we are together.  She made us look pretty great. http://www.leanneliakosphotography.com/

Introducing little Roberto, Baby Bieksa, Little Raffi & Baby Burrows...

Jeff and Tamara Coates are proud to introduce their newest additions.  Baby Bieksa, Little Raffi, Baby Burrows, Little Lou, Little Sami, Baby Manny, Little Samuelson, Baby Christian, Little Schneider, Little Jannik, peppy, little Kesler and sweet, little Sedin are all doing well after their early fight for survival.

Proud parents are counting down to their boys' next big debut.  Tomorrow they take on a fierce, new opponent: life outside on the balcony garden.

We are tentative gardeners.  Right now we have two house plants aside from our baby tomatoes.  But all our plants have names.  It's easier to talk to them that way and encourage them to grow.

We inherited these baby tomatoes from my sister.  She had grown them from seed but was forced to find them new homes after a recent move. In the few weeks they've been in our care (they seem to respond best to Jeff), they've about 6 inches taller! I'm learning how satisfying it is to grow things yourself -- to see  how sensitive and at the same time resilient plants can be...how they bend toward the sun, how they droop when they're thirsty, and practically rise before your eyes with a little drink.

So far it's been a very cost friendly project too.  The seedlings were donated (if you know any avid gardeners well, many will happily share a cutting or two here or there - a nice way to ease in, inexpensively).  I've accumulated some nice clay pots and a couple of bedding boxes over a few gardening attempts over a few years.  Last week I spent $10 on a bag of super soil from Home Depot, and $3 on bamboo skewers that will soon help our little guys stand. 

Who knew good clean fun could come so cheap?

The egg that helped make peace with the past

Last night I was invited to make pysanky and take part in the process of decorating Easter eggs in the ancient Ukrainian tradition.  It's something we did as a family, religiously, every year at this time, when I was a kid. I can't believe I forgot how much I loved it.

A small group of friends gathered around the dining room table of my great friend V.  If it weren't for her, I'd carelessly let a lot more of my childhood slip away. 

Suddenly there they were: all the tools in front of me, including the familiar texture and smell of beeswax.  We had pencils, kistki, packets of dye, candles, eggs, and V's mother's book of  patterns. 

After a quick YouTube tutorial to remind us of the basics, and a few swigs of wine to steady the hand, we hunched over to sketch our plans across the curved landscape of our eggs.  And suddenly there we were: the next generation of Babas.

Simple exercise. Powerful, restorative, grounding experience.  Pal E kept remarking how soothing, cathartic it felt. Add to that, the tremendous bonding feeling that comes with tapping into the creative force in great company, and releasing a latent desire to connect with something familiar, cultural -- a part of your genetic make up.

We agreed we shouldn't save pysanky just for this time of year.  Why not gather and do this more often?Maybe we will, maybe we won't.  Either way, I'm building more recent memories now.

 

Still a Craigslist virgin?

The BFB is totally horrified to learn 40% of Canadians are trashing upwards of $400 by throwing out unwanted crap instead of selling it. This, according to an Ipsos Reid survey for Kijiji.

This leads me to believe a whole wack of us are still - tragically - Craigslist/Kijiji virgins.

I have bought and sold just about everything on Craigslist.  I parted with my '92 Mazda Protege online and got rid of a brand new bathroom sink never used in a reno, but sat hogging storage space for nearly two years.  I sold a coveted Team Canada jersey at the feverish height of Olympic demand and I still, from time to time, eye my husband's, wondering what it might fetch today.  When my Dad was downsizing his business and preparing to give away his entire office inventory, I stepped in and sold it for him.  We split the profit.  I made $1500!  I sold an antique wood table for more than I paid.  I've turned handbags and camera lenses into solid bucks. When it comes to best Craigslist buys, I found my wedding veil on the site, and paid just $20 for it.

So why don't more of us dabble? Survey says the perceived hassle causes nearly half of Canadians to chuck unwanted stuff out with their regular garbage!

Purging, sorting, valuing, photographing and posting are indeed involved.  So is making dates with strangers.  But I promise you, the old cliche is true: one man's trash is another man's treasure.  You'll find many who are willing to pay.

I'm currently selling an Italian granite counter top for $400.  The new owners of our old condo are gutting the place.  My savvy Ma collected it when she saw the 'free' ad.  It's worth $1500.  I should know.  I'm the one who originally bought it.

Best $5 food around...

They only do it 'to go,' and only Monday - Friday from noon-4p ..but I now plan on taking out from New India Buffet & Restaurant (805 W Broadway) at least once a week.

In a city where cheap food is plentiful but so often mediocre, this is some of the best I've had in a long time.

For $5 plus tax, you get butter chicken, basmati rice, naan bread, a wee cucumber salad and your choice of lentils, peas & cheese, or your pick of about one of three others.  And the portions aren't stingy.  Depending on your appetite, you might even have leftovers.

10/10 on the BFB's yum scale.