Hi, My name is Emily

and I'm an Etsy addict.

It started innocently enough with a Venus staff fave proclaiming the wonders of busterandboo.

Then I discovered scrabble pendants and placed another order from the delightful HomeStudio-- this time with gold accents so they looked nicer with my Indian jewelry.



Then I got glasses and my hair started driving me nuts, so I turned to the site's headband makers for help. Precocious came to the rescue!


I've been wearing these headbands everyday and I love them.

And I finally gave into my desire to own something designed by Emily Martin of The Black Apple.

Maybe the closest thing I will ever have to a self-portrait. But I bet Emily hears that all the time.

And then I bought these paper dolls because OMG, Stella has a Smiths t-shirt and a cat hat.
I want to frame them for Lucy's room.

It's so easy to scoop up all these things that I would love to be able to find locally, and Cary isn't really satisfied with my justifications: "it's handmade! I'm supporting small business women!"

Gypsies and Owls

Thanks to the NYT for alerting me to the existence of The Orwell Prize. A simple, but genius, premise, The Orwell Prize makes George Orwell's diary entries available to readers 70 years to the day that they were written.

While hardly as intense as 1984 or Animal Farm, I'm already hooked on Orwell's observation of slugs, weather, and the sloe gin making traditions of the Gypsy caravans that made their way through his area of England. It feels like it comes from a place much more remote than 70 years ago.

Perhaps this is the perfect solution to my inability to sit down and read anything for more than 45 seconds.

Best Laid Plans

Since we went to Florida in August, Cary and I couldn't really muster a full-blown summer trip. Yeah. We're wusses.

But he decided to take some time off anyway.

Here's how it has gone thus far:
1. Thursday we went to Fantasy Island. Cary and Henry regretted riding the Silver Comet. I confirmed what I already knew -- that I really hate amusement parks.

2. Yesterday Henry woke up with a mild fever, so we tabled our plans to go to the Museum of Play. He didn't have any other symptoms and I wasn't too worried until 5:30 when the fever failed to respond to Advil. A quick call to the doctor confirmed that we could alternate Tylenol and Advil. Tylenol brought the fever down, and I relaxed enough to head out to meet a friend for a drink.

3. Cary let me sleep in, bless his heart. But when I woke up Henry's fever had climbed to over 104. I gave him Tylenol, and he immediately vomited. Another not so quick call to the doctor's office gave me some good advice, but it also lead us to accept the inevitable and cancel our plans for today and tomorrow.

I've never been so grateful for the Canadian Olympic broadcast because we were at least able to enjoy Lucy executing her version of rhythmic gymnastics while watching the finals.

Maybe we will make it to the Museum of Play on Monday, which is Cary's last day of vacation.

And I almost forgot -- I've got a review of the Head Like a Kite Remix EP up at Donnybrook.

No More Camp

But strangely the children and I are not at each other's throats ... yet.

I think it is because I kept them busy today. We met a friend at the playground and they were busy for over two hours. It was sweet. And we went to the library. Now Lucy is at a neighbor's playing with their 4 year old daughter and their 7 year old son is here playing with Henry. Henry is boring the pants off the kid with his violin talk, but then I heard the kid sing an acappella version of "Our House" by CSNY, and decided they were even.

Also, Henry got the name of his teacher for next year, and it seems like we got the teacher that the Principal promised we would, so I am cautiously optimistic. I'm sure the tears will flow soon enough on that front.

Always glad to be home.

I've written before about our mishaps on previous Toronto trips here and here.

1. On the trip up I pointed out the mist from Niagara Falls that was visible from the Grand Island Bridge. Lucy misinterpreted what I said and started calling it "Mister Niagara Falls." On the way home we could see the Falls again from the Rainbow Bridge. She said, "Look, it's Mister Niagara Falls. He's so happy to meet me."

2. We were only staying over one night this time, and all in the same room. Though no one really slept well, we did sleep. And the kids were up until almost 10 p.m., which is ridiculously late for them. Couldn't have asked for better.

3. Our trip began at the zoo. I think it was the first year the kids were as interested in seeing the animals as they were in the camel and pony rides. Our only real problem came when Cary decided we should go to the Canadian section of the zoo. I swear it was like 1.5 km, uphill both ways, and when we got there we found very few animals in view.

4. We met our friend for dinner in Chinatown and both kids found something to order off the menu. Miraculous! Lucy got what they referred to as a "salted donut" for $0.95 -- I think it a deep-fired rice flour pastry with salt.

5. We spent the morning at the Toronto Islands. A good time was had by all. Unfortunately the ride home was brutal. The two hour trip took over three hours because the QEW was a parking lot the whole ride home.

I love it in Toronto and would love to head up there once a month if the traffic wasn't so insane. Plus I got a migraine each day of the trip, which is kind of a disincentive.

Ragweed can suck it

I think we are suffering from allergies. Here is the evidence:

1. Henry was a pleasure to be around until last Friday when he suddenly became whiny, impatient, and easily moved to tears. Fun! Benadryl was dispensed.

2. I have that dizzy, nauseous feeling which I can't shake. Beer was dispensed. (Alcohol dries you out, right?)

3. Lucy coughed all through the night and woke up sounding croupy, but it went away quickly. Zyrtec was dispensed.

All of us have been taking our allergies meds right along, so I can only guess that some new plant is in bloom and that plus all the rain is making us feel like crap.

My Takka Takka review finally surfaced on Venus.

Ask and ye shall receive...

For Anne. The children join me with their sympathy glasses.

Garden Picture Collage

 

Four eyes update

The glasses were much easier on my eyes the next day, so I think everything is fine. I still feel uncomfortable with them on my face all day long, but I'm pretty sure I can get used to that. Now, to look for vintage frames on eBay to make some thrifty RX sunglasses...

The last place I saw it was in my hand as I was shoving into the mailbox

One Watch. I found Cary's watch!!! I realized I didn't actually remember seeing it outside of Target, so after checking the RX desk about a week ago with no luck I decided to ask at Customer Service. Bingo! There was the watch. He can fix his own damn battery.

Two visits. I went to my in-laws twice today. First to pick up Cary's grandfathers masonic memorabilia and second to pick up empty boxes that my father-in-law was too exhausted to collapse. They are currently in the back of my van. Anybody need some empty liquor boxes or a hideous floral display? The worst part is that garbage day was today on our street. (I'm not sure why he gave me the floral display -- I think because his garbage cans were full. If I were a better blogger I'd take a picture, but alas, just imagine metallic, silk, and plastic jutting at odd angles from a jar).

Three Reviews. I reviewed Nisennenmondai and Arms (a Harlem Shakes side project -- who knew 3/5 of the Harlem Shakes went to Yale?) for Donnybrook. I don't know where my Takka Takka review for Venus is -- I turned it in last month, but it's on P4k today and I liked the CD way less than Joshua Klein did.

Four Eyes. I got my glasses today. I really dislike them. For the first eight hours that I wore them I thought my head was going to explode. The Optician's office told me that RXs which are mostly for astigmatism (like mine) rather than magnifying stuff don't fix things immediately, so I'm not passing judgment yet. It's just that I was really looking forward to being able to see again.