BookLust

Adventures in Accounting

I know that most of you have probably already finished your taxes for this year (or else you're running around with wads of invoices and T-4s and T-5s, bumping into walls and screaming and crying), but I wanted to share my wonderful (yes, wonderful) experience with my new accountant. If you are late in filing, and you need help, and you're in the Toronto area, my I suggest Base Nine Financial? It's a very cool company run by Dimitris Stubos and Adam Dunn, specializing in servicing the artistic community (who as some of you may know, are often totally flummoxed when it comes to doing their taxes, present company included).

I found out about these guys last year from reading this National Post article, just after I had finished getting my taxes done (a horrible, horrible experience that I will not soon forget...grrrrrr....). I saved that precious article, and this year gave Dimitris a call. He's the guy you will be dealing with when getting your taxes done (the other fellow, Adam Dunn, is more the 'behind the scenes' guy, and knows a hell of a lot about running a business, since he runs the very successful toy company Monster Factory).

What can I say? Dimitris was open and friendly, and very eager to help me learn anything I wanted to know, and his goal was to save me as much money as possible. (At one point I had made a mistake in the information I had provided, and when Dimitris figured this out, and that it meant he could save me more money, he was simply giddy with joy. An accountant giddy with joy over saving their client money? Sign me up, baby!) Or how about an accountant who is interested in literature? When was the last time you talked books with your accountant? I'm not saying that's essential, but for me, it sure helps with the whole process. As an artist, I would much prefer to work with an accountant who has an interest in the arts, and who is connected within the artistic community.

Base Nine Financial is located in the Centre for Social Innovation, downtown on Spadina Avenue. It's an amazing place that is focused on housing and supporting small, creative and innovative businesses, but it's much, much more than that, and you really should explore the site in detail. So the fact that my accountant is associated with an organization that is all about community, and sharing ideas – well, it's a no-brainer for me!

So...if you need an accountant, or if you want to try someone fresh and new for next year, why not check out Base Nine Financial? I'll be mentioning this company again next year, far ahead of tax time. I'm just so thrilled to finally find an accountant that I like, I wanna tell the world!

What Do the Simple Folk Do?

What do the simple folk do
To help them escape when they're blue?

You know what I do? I pull out my DVD collection of James Herriot's All Creatures Great And Small. When I'm glum there's nothing quite like British comfort television to cheer me up. The first season is the best, of course, when Herriot is a new vet assistant, working for the brash and opinionated Siegfried Farnon, and witnessing the misadventures of  Siegfried's layabout brother, Tristan. I love all the crusty characters, and the scenery of the Yorkshire Dales is heavenly. And of course, I never tire of the charming romance between James and Helen. I could watch it over and over again. And I have. If you've never seen the show, and you think you might like rugged Yorkshire countryside, dirty farm animals and all things warm and cosy, then I highly recommend it. Oh, and do read all the books by James Herriot, too. Sure to uplift any grumpy or glum mood, I promise.

So what do you do when you're blue?

Murphy's Law #57

The day you have to go out with your biggest portfolio case will be the day that it is very, very windy.

CANSCAIP presentation went well. I survived! Thanks for all the kind words of encouragement, by the way. I always seem to freak out for days (sometimes weeks) before an event when I have to talk in front of people, and it always turns out ok. In my defense, I will say, hell, if Barbra Streisand can get stage fright, then so can I, dahling.

Top of the World

For the past few days I have been feeling particularly blue, and I'm not exactly sure why. Perhaps it's because work has slowed down. Perhaps it's because I'm facing a big challenge with the latest picture book I'm illustrating. Or perhaps it's that let-down feeling one gets after lots of celebration and socializing (my birthday and our wedding anniversary). Whatever the reason, my heart is heavy, and I can't get out of this funk. This isn't good because I've got to give a presentation of my work tonight at the monthly CANSCAIP meeting. So I'm nervous and blue. And what do I do to quell this feeling of bleh? I decide to read my horoscope, something I very rarely ever do. And here's what I read:

Clearly I am doing something wrong.

So What Does a Freelancer Look Like?

Monday morning, after a very pleasant(!) appointment with my new accountant, I wandered into the always delightful Lillian H Smith library, to explore what was showing in the Osborne Collection, as well as sign out craploads of picture books (research for my ongoing pursuit of writing picture book stories). I then travelled back to Book City in the Bloor West Village, so that I could use my annual birthday book coupon to buy myself a belated birthday book treat (I ended up purchasing a copy of Quill & Quire as well as The Pencil: A History of Design and Circumstance by Henry Petroski). Then a cup of coffee and a blueberry scone at the local coffee shop, and it was time to take a bus back home and do some work.

As I was getting ready to get off the bus, the driver smiled at me and said, "Going home, huh?" I said yes, but that I would be going home to work (I guess I don't really want people to think that I'm a lady of leisure just because I'm not stuck in some stuffy office downtown). The bus driver then replied, "Yeah – you look like one of those people who work at home." I smiled and got off the bus, but as I waited to cross the street the thought suddenly occurred to me – just what the hell did that guy mean when he said that?

I immediately began to take stock of my appearance. It was a warm day, so my winter coat was open. The driver would have been able to clearly see that I was wearing a rather funky green East-Indian shirt, with comfortable jeans. I hadn't bothered to blow-dry my hair the night before; instead I opted for natural drying, which tends to create a Pre-Raphealite, kinky look to my mop. Never mind that because I've been so busy lately, I'm in serious need of a hair-cut, so the kinky hair was long and a tad messy. I was sporting my funky black glasses, because I had been reading on the bus. On one shoulder I was carrying my purse and a Toronto Public Library canvas bag, full to the brim with picture books. In the other hand I carried my Book City bag with my belated-birthday loot. I suppose I looked relaxed and happy. It had a been a very enjoyable morning.

But just what does a freelancer look like? Is it because I looked artsy and casual that he made that judgement? Do all freelancers look like me? I don't think so. I know for a fact that there are freelancers who make a concerted effort to dress very professionally every day, even though they work at home, just to put their head space in serious working mode (yeah, Steve, I'm talking about you!) Not all freelancers are casual artsy-fartsies like myself.

I wasn't offended by the bus driver's comments – just intrigued. So I'll pose the question again, hoping for an answer: Just what does a freelancer looks like?

Yet Another Sigh...

I'm still under the gun, but it's getting better. So for your viewing pleasure, yet another photo.

Recently the hubby performed a puppet play at the Oakwood Library during the March Break. The local York Guardian took a photo, so now Guido's famous!

Ain't he cute? Sigh...

Sigh...

As you can guess, I've had one hell of a busy week. I've been doing 15 hour days for the past week and I'm near the breaking point. And I'm still working, and will be up late again tonight. But after that, I should be somewhat caught up, so am hoping to post something of interest during the weekend.

So as a way of apologizing, I thought I'd give you all a good chuckle by sharing some beautiful photos of me when I was a kid. Funny thing is, just recently I was thinking of asking my dad if he had any old slides of me as a kid reading the comics, but I didn't bother because I figured the answer would be no. And so in one of those delightful serendipitous moments, my dad sent my mom some scanned slides for a completely unrelated reason, and looky looky!

Yup – it don't get much geekier than this. Not only was I chubby, sporting this horrendous contraption and blessed with bushy eyebrows, but I also had asthma at that time, and was allergic to almost every living thing in sight. Good times.

Unbreakable

You know, when I got married 13 years ago and repeated those vows, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, I probably should have got the minister to tack on the phrase, no matter how many goddam things your husband breaks in the house, 'til death do you part (or until maybe I kill him?)

I have no one to blame but myself, really. Because I walked into this marriage fully forewarned. Not long after meeting Guy all those years ago, in a big booming voice he happily declared to me, "I'm a stumblebum!" And since that day, he has not let me down. In the many years that we have been together he has broken lamps, picture frames, glasses, plates, bowls, mugs and (sigh) numerous precious nicknacks. Handmade objects. Lovely gifts. And yes, pretty Christmas decorations. Yup. He broke another one today. I know he does not mean to, but it still sends me over the edge, because though I am not a very girly-girl, I do like a little bit of decorative stuff around the house, especially during the Holidays.

But a heart can be broken, too, and in the big scheme of the things, flipping out over a broken decorative glass candle is pretty petty, especially when a pair of big sad blue eyes are looking at you with such remorse. Yet again. Stuff can always be replaced. But nothing can ever replace my big burly bull in the china shoppe. Some things are unbreakable, like my love for him.

But perhaps I should look into rubber nicknacks in the future, all the same.

Merry Christmas To All!

And a joyous, prosperous New Year!

Meow!

'Tis the Season

If you were one of the people hit by yesterday's amazing snow storm, then right about now you might be craving a place that is not covered in fluffy white stuff. Well! I just happen to have the perfect remedy for your winter blahs. My mom's been scanning some old slides from Jamaica, and I managed to get copies. Perhaps some Jamaican photos will lift your spirits!

Not sure who this lady is – a friend of the family I guess, visiting another family member's home.

My Aunt Eleanor (holding the swimming tube) visiting her sister's home.

This is the house my mom grew up in.

And this is my mom, with some lovely gerberas in the the background. These flowers grew in the garden in front of their house.

There! Feel better now? ;)