autobiographical
under my skein: a survival story
July 1981 10:15 am: My mother parks our black Mercury Monarch on Main Street. I am nine years old and sitting up front alongside my mother. My seven-year-old sister and three-year-old brother are sitting in the back. Nova Scotia didn’t pass seatbelt laws until 1985, so we were free to bounce around like fleas on…
Read Morean almost love story
The curtain rises in Toronto during the late 1990‘s. It was a strange and wonderful time. Scientists were cloning sheep and plaid flannel was a socially accepted fashion norm. Microsoft was king and Jennifer Aniston’s hair was its queen. Downtown Toronto was my home. Each fall, Toronto hosts The Toronto Film Festival (TIFF). If you’re…
Read Moremoth-erly instincts
On April 26, 2012, I ate between 1 and 4.5 million moth eggs. I’m not sure how many I actually kept down, thus the broad range in estimated consumption. Immediately after consuming the moth eggs, I texted 2.0. The text read: I just ate moth larvae. I sent the text at 12:27 pm. I expected an immediate…
Read Moresmotherly love: a seasonal tale
Let me preface this anecdote by telling you that my mother, Rosie Beaucoup, adores 2.0. As in: worships at the altar of his awesomeness. So Rosie couldn’t be happier that 2.0 has come into my her life, but for a time she worshipped at another altar: the Altar of David Humphreys. Growing up, I had…
Read Moresidewalk cat
Recently, my friend Bobbie shared this photo on Instagram: That’s one of her best friends, Sequins, waiting for his dinner in a high chair. Because that’s how Sequins rolls. It got me thinking about an incident that occurred over a decade ago when Bobbie came to visit me in… where I was living at the time. I’m…
Read Moreeasy homemade chocolate sauce
The girls run across the studio, screaming. Two of them jump up on window sills. For a moment, I am unsure of what is happening. I look for an axe wielding maniac and simultaneously suffer cardiac arrest. I turn to Mr. Kallio (my accompanist) behind the piano. He looks confused for a moment, throws his hands over his…
Read Morecake decorating class { 4 }
I arrived for my final cake decorating class after a day spent painting the main floor of my house. I could hardly move my arms and smelled like arse end of a skunk. We were supposed to bring a final project to work on during class. I had big plans to bring a cake — to…
Read Morecake decorating class { 3 }
The third of my cake decorating classes was far more successful than the first two. At the end of the previous class, we were given a long list to accompany the magazine-style syllabus that comes with the course. Class Instructor had carefully listed each of the icings we would need for our third class, and…
Read Morecake decorating class { 2 }
Truth be told, I wasn’t looking forward to my second cake decorating class. No, that’s not entirely true. I was looking forward to it, but the class fell on the last day of a course I was taking at work, and I was exhausted from dancing and shoving information into my brain. Various icings in different colours…
Read Morecake decorating class { 1 }
A few weeks ago, I signed up for a cake decorating class offered through a major craft store chain. Four two-hour classes to become a master of buttercream. When I registered for the class, I got a 50% discount. Then I was told I would need a special course kit. The kit cost about four million dollars…
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