BookLust

I'm the Blogerati, Dahling

BlogTO has interviewed me for their Blogerati Files, dahling.

'Tis the Season to wHaggle!

Who here doesn't like a garage sale? As soon as the good weather hits, there's nothing quite like rummaging through someone else's stuff. It's funny how your own stuff is crap, but someone else's stuff is like precious jewels from the Vatican.

This illo (here's the larger version) was done for the company wHaggle.com, an online site to help you buy and sell just about anything.

I'll be doing some more illos for wHaggle.com in the near future; can't wait to show you guys!

Now go forth and shop, kids!

Kiddies Bite, Too

A new illo for City Bites magazine. Click here for a bigger version.

The article, written by Yuki Hayashi, discusses the new generation of young kids going to restaurants. It doesn't have to be a horrific experience; kids can be well-behaved and enjoy themselves, if they are taught the basic rules, of course.

I must confess that that is one thing I can't stand – poorly behaved kids in restaurants. Screaming and whining and and crying – it ruins the experience for everyone there. I know I'm being very unfair because I don't have kids, but my attitude is, if your kids can't behave well in a restaurant, please for the love of god, don't take them out.

And speaking of restaurants, I attended another City Bites event last night in celebration of their June/July issue. The party was held this time at Empire Restaurant and Lounge, a hip place in the heart of Yorkville. Had a great time, and was very fortunate to have met Talin Vartanian, the Executive Producer of Canada Reads. Here I am, surrounded by food experts, and I get to talk about books with another book luster! An absolutely delightful (and funny!) lady. I do hope to interview her on BookLust in the near future.

You know, I really must get out more. Each time I venture outdoors, it's a new creative adventure!

Independent Reading 4

I'm so excited about this news, I think I just might implode.

Toronto has a new independent bookstore. No, I'm not joking. Can you believe it? Who would dare to open up an independent bookstore in this era of the big box bookstore monster? In the words of National Post's Nathalie Atkinson, opening a bookstore these days is an act of unmitigated, almost subversive, optimism. When the words bookstore and subversive find their way into the same sentence, I get simply giddy.

Ok, enough chatter. The store is called Type (love it!!), and you can find it at 883 Queen Street West, in the heart of funky town. It's a small store, but beautifully decorated (vintage typewriters can be found displayed throughout the store), and brimming with the best selection of books one could possibly imagine. Seriously. As soon as you walk in, you start to feel smarter. And why not? The two women (oh I'm so lovin' that) who run the store (Joanne Saul and Samara Walbohm) met while pursuing their doctoral studies in English at the University of Toronto.

In the near future, space downstairs will be used for a gallery as well as book launches and signings. The hours for Type are: Mondays – Wednesdays and Saturdays from 10:00am to 6:00pm, Thursdays and Fridays from 10:00am to 8:00pm, and Sundays from noon to 5:00pm. They have a website, but it's still under construction.

I popped in yesterday only briefly, on my way to a social gathering, and was simply blown away. I purchased one of their Type Canvas Book Bags (all the money from the sale of the bags goes to Frontier College) as well as the new book by Daniel Handler, Adverbs.

Visiting this store (and buying books) is a must. Not only is it an uplifting experience just being there, it's just a damn good thing to support these gals and their beautiful, beautiful store.

Oh, I could just weep for joy.

Two Bees or Not Two Bees

Yeah, I know that's a really cheezy title, but this tale really does involve two bees, so the cliché is apropos, ok?

I'm experiencing quite the gardening conundrum (the first of many, I'm sure), and I need help.

A few weeks back I began doing some major weeding in our backyard. Now in a sense this is kind of a waste of time, because eventually all that grass in the backyard will be dug out so that I can plant a lovely flower garden. But family guests were coming over for a big get-together, so I wanted the yard to look somewhat attractive.

Oy, there were a whole whack of weeds. It seemed the more I pulled those suckers out, the more just kept popping up, sort of like some twisted garden video game. Near the back right corner of our yard stands a charming old swing, which we've decided we'd like to keep. Somehow in my garden design I envision beautiful flowers bordering this little patch of bliss. Well, this patch of bliss had an incredible amount of weeds around it, but I couldn't get near the damn swing, because there were two big fat bumble bees happily buzzing around that specific area, and they simply would not go away. These bees buzzed and danced with each other, and every now and then would come right at me, basically telling me to piss off and stay the hell away from their spot of land. Excuse me? That's my land now, ok? I have the deed to prove it. But those damn bees would not go away! And they just kept buzzing around that swing. I knew I had a problem. I have little nieces and nephews, and I know that they would want to play on the swing. What if they got stung by the bees?

I looked around, and for the life of me, could not find a bee hive. Why would two bees attach themselves to a specific area, and guard it with their lives? I didn't have time to do research and find out; the family was coming over in two days. Sigh...so yes, I did a bad thing. I got out our winter snow shovel, and began the bee-attack. You know what? It's almost impossible to kill bees with a snow shovel. But I did manage to squash one of them. And yes, I felt terrible. But I didn't know what else to do!! And yes, I'm sure anyone that could have seen me that day, must have thought that I looked like a bloody idiot. What a way to introduce myself to the neighbourhood, swinging a big snow shovel in the air, swearing and sweating and generally acting completely irrational.

When I told my husband about my bee trouble, he began laughing at me, and told me that the other bee was gonna get me, one way or another. "Remember Willard?" he chortled.

A few days later, I was in our mudroom, getting ready to put my running shoes on, when I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. I looked underneath our wooden bench, and what do I see but a goddam bumble bee!!! Guy was right! It was out to get me! In a panic, I grabbed a shoe and yes, whacked that thing to death.

And so, I figured the bee drama was over. I'd killed the two bees, and now I could continue to work in that area, in peace. Then yesterday I walked over to our detached garage (which is on the left corner of our yard), and just casually looked over to the swing, and what do I see, but two more goddam bees!!!

Help!! What do I do to get rid of these suckers? There must be a hive nearby, right? Perhaps it's inside the old swing? Do bees build hives inside old wood? Please help me. I cannot bear to kill any more bees. 'Cuz I know if I do, they will definitely get me.

I'm so Proud to be so Prejudiced

Which Classic Female Literary Character are you?

Damn straight I am. None of this Catherine and Heathcliff crap for me.

Seen in The Village 6

It's a working weekend for me this long weekend, but I don't mind too much, because the project I'm working on is a lot of fun. I can't wait to see the finished product, and of course, blog about it, too! But that will come later, down the road.

The weather's been moody this weekend in Toronto. Cloudy and dark one minute, then suddenly bright and warm. In the late afternoon I saw the sun creeping out, so I threw down my brush and exclaimed, "Break time!" (Ok, maybe it wasn't as dramatic as that. But I was very excited).

So out I went for a bit of shopping and exploring. On my travels, I decided to finally venture into a charming garden accessory store close to The Bloor West Village, called Windergarden. Here's a small shot of it's store front. Good gracious, this place is like entering the gates of heaven. If you're passionate about gardening, and you have a weakness for garden accents, then you must explore this enchanting shop. Lovely patio furniture, delightful stone carvings to place in your garden, and a multitude of unique accents to add to your home. I spotted a delightful hand-carved wooden tool box with the word 'Books' carved on the sides, and even managed to barter down the price (only because it was a tad roughed up). I was just about to leave the store, when I overheard a conversation between one of the customers, and one of the ladies at the cash. They were talking about books! My ears pricked up. Snoop that I am, I discovered that the customer had started her own unique fashion magazine, entitled Worn. She brought out samples of the mag for us to see. It sure ain't your typical dull commercial fashion mag you usually encounter – the latest issue includes an in-depth history of the bustline, as well as a history of the Safety Pin, and a detailed discussion of forties shoes. And there's lots of funky pictures and illustrations. So I handed the proprietor of the mag my card, and bid adieu.

Just as I was nearing The Bloor West Village, a fancy car pulled up along the side of the road next to me, and a tall, well-dressed gentleman with long grey hair came out of the car, exclaiming to his son who was behind him, "These strawberries are amazing!" Just as he stood up on the sidewalk, I walked by. I could not help but look at him – he was such a fascinating sight to behold, so well-dressed, and eating a big fat juicy strawberry. He saw me looking at him, and smiled and said, "Here, have one!" In my hand he placed the biggest, juiciest, reddest strawberry I have every seen. I took a bite, and the strawberry juice spilled down my arm. "Isn't it delicious?" he exclaimed. "Yes! Thankyou!" I said. I wished him and his son a Bon Appétit, and happily continued on my travels.

Sadly, the best gift store in The Bloor West Village is closing down at the end of the month, after over 30 years of business. Durie Lane always sold the most attractive, one-of-a-kind gifts. I've purchased many things from that shop over the years. So it was with a heavy heart that I walked in and bought one last item from that store. Everything left over was 50% off, so I got quite the deal on an attractive little brass clock. I'll always think of that charming, cluttered store when I look at my fetching new clock.

Then it was home again, to have a drink and dinner with the hubby, talk about his work day and a show-and-tell of my loot and adventures.

Then up in the studio, and back to work!

I Got Posted 11

Yup, another one! Here's a larger version. I haven't seen the print version yet; crossing fingers that it turned out ok!

The piece, written by Emily Yoffe, details her unfortunate experience as a clown for a kid's birthday party:

Making my debut as a children's entertainer at a 3-year-old's birthday party, I worried that the kids would writhe around like a bag of snakes because I couldn't keep their attention. But as I went through my routine-putting underwear on my head; sucking on a pacifier; opening a "dirty" diaper-they sat utterly transfixed. They had the same baffled, embarrassed expressions on their faces as the audience in Walk the Line sitting through Johnny Cash's onstage breakdown. Occasionally a child would glance over at a parent plaintively, as if to ask, "Why, Mommy, why?"

I used to draw caricatures of kids at parties and local festivals, so I know what it's like to be an entertainer of sorts for kids. Note that I said used to. Never, ever, ever again.

Oh, and another confession. Many moons ago, I actually attended, yes, clown school, so that I could be a clown in the Burlington Christmas Parade. The day of the parade was cold, and pelting down wet snow. The master of ceremonies (or whatever you call him) was Tom Jolls of Commander Tom fame. He sat in a big red convertable and smiled and waved throughout the entire parade. Everyone around him got soaked to the skin because of the wet snow, but his hair stayed remarkabley in place, no doubt due to an excessive amount of hair spray. I was thoroughly exhausted and chilled to the bone by the end of that day.

Never, ever, ever again.

Horsing Around

My Dad is recuperating far beyond everyone's expectations. He's now walking without a walker! Not bad for just having open heart surgery on Friday, huh?

So now that I know he's doing ok, I can concentrate a bit more on some light-hearted stuff. Like my crazy illustrations!

This was an illo I did recently for the magazine Horse Canada. No, I didn't even know this magazine existed until they contacted me for an illustration. The subject of the piece was a humorous look at how frustrating it is to back a horse trailer, especially when you have friends and family nearby, all yelling at the same time, telling you what to do. It was fun to illustrate! Oh, and here's a bigger version of the illo.

Me, I'm not a horse person at all. I think they're beautiful creatures, but truth be told, I'm scared shitless of them.

A Little Request

I'm not big on talking too much about super personal stuff, but I did want to mention that tomorrow morning my 77 year-old dad is going to have open heart surgery to replace his aortic valve as well as bypass surgery to replace a partially blocked artery.

So if you feel like thinking happy thoughts for my dad, that would be nice.

UPDATE:
The operation went well, and he's now breathing on his own, sipping water and talking. He should be moving out of ICU later today.

Thank you, everyone, for your best wishes.