my (felt like a vacation) weekend in summary

this weekend saw a special guest in toronto - and involved not dance parties, but lots of food and bike trips.... and there was some butt shaking to (in my head) music. so that's ok.
reading in the sun after a stressful day of work; tonka in the backyard - just looking for some love; pizza - from my fave; urban picnic; the bike of champions; amazing shore line at the spit (maybe it's just the artist in me.... but look at that old wire!); chicken wing face; just laying in the sun; the shoreline, with the tower in the background; someone is a LITTLE sweaty; dinner prep; some reading time with mother and daughter; backyard fun with the babe; laughing is the best sunday activity. 
friday: headed home from a rough day at work, and had a moment of time to read, and sit outside in the last moments of direct sunshine. then, jeff arrived via GO train then bike - and pat, jeff, tonka (the dog) and i sat outside for some conversation and a drink. then denver joined us for a photo challenge slideshow (catch up from the last thanksgiving that denver joined me at). finally, we decided to take off, and walk to pizzeria libretto for some dinner. we tried their new draught beer, created by gananoque brewing company, and had their pizza special. then, walked home and to bed.
saturday: woke up late ish, and then had a good big breakfast outside. then, packed up the car, with some snacks and appropriate day trip wear. we headed over to jeff's former house, where we hung out with gillian (his roommate) for a bit while she did some construction. had a drink, and then packed up the bike for a trip down to leslie spit. grabbed a lunch at the loblaws before heading south - we hopped onto the path into the conservation area, and spent the afternoon biking. we careened down the bike path, and figured, while we were in a place that seemed like one of the carolina's, may as well explore all we could. the city was completely blocked, until we ventured out onto the old hydro posts holding up the edges of the spit. we found ourselves exploring the lesser travelled parts of the area - with crumbled concrete 'beaches' filled with seagull heaven - and then when we came to a fork in the (clearly untravelled path), we did what robert frost would have suggested (and i may have quoted the poem). through the high grass, we found a clearling with rubble, and some concrete slabs large enough to lay on... and so, in the quiet space on the edge of the spit where no one else would venture, we spent our time laying out on the rocks, and spending time in the sun. the spit was perfect - a space to feel like you weren't in the city. got nice and sweaty, and got some sun in bathing suits. then, we hiked back to the trail, and biked back out. stopped for some dinner groceries before i drove home, and jeff made the cross city trek back to my place on his bike. whipped up a bbq dinner of veggies burgers, grilled veggies, and some couscous and ate outside (there was a lot of that). then, went for a desert walk, picking up some ice cream and popsicle, and walked a few blocks to let the meal settle. and, a wild night ended with a viewing of old school on the couch... while falling asleep.
sunday: woke up fairly early, and packed up after another outdoor breakfast, to head back for the day. made a quick stop at mountain equipment co-op, and then dropped off bikes. i then headed out to see my sister from another man (i refuse to say mister), and her lovely fam - including my little niece. spent the afternoon playing catch, and reading books, and giggling lots. then, headed home for dinner with the parents. spent the rest of the evening watching tv and lounging. much deserved and needed.
hope everyone had a GREAT weekend, and enjoyed the sun, and the break. and slept
(as that seems to be my default insistence. SLEEP!)
(and to finish  with 2 photos from jeff who is a WAY better photographer than i)
happy monday!

...and go dance.

i just found what i'm doing this weekend.
this.
inspired by this thought catalogue piece... i'm going to force myself to do all of these things (even if it means dancing to carly rae jepson on my own). so. there.
if you ALL do these things, it'll be like we're doing it TOGETHER!
can't wait to hear your stories. have a good one all!

'he may not have loved me perfectly, but he loved be as well as he could' (the absolutely true diary of a part-time indian)

i just recently finished reading The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian - sent to me in the mail from my wonderful and amazing friend alex. alex has lived on a reserve up close to the manitoba border for 3 years, teaching science and other subjects to her little ones. she coaches hockey, goes to beading classes, and has done such an amazing job of becoming absorbed in the community. her and i often speak of challenges relating to life on a reserve, and the overall tone of such an interesting community of people within the larger context of Canada.
she sent me this book in the mail, with a note that said, 'since i know you are interested in reservation life, i thought you'd enjoy all this book has to offer. it may not seem as funny because you don't have my experiences, but please believe that this book is extremely close to reality as i see it.'
and what better day to write about my reflections on the book, than on national aboriginal day in Canada.
this book is breathtaking. i took the book to be humourous at first - it truly manages to capture you from the beginning as a humour based novel... and yet, you find yourself more and more drawn by the aches you feel, as arnold (the main character) brushes over his tragedies. the way that alexie manages to create a space in which heartbreak and disaster are such a common occurrence, is stunning - he passes by each situation with the experience of someone who knows the necessity of survival, and what calls for true mourning.
“My parents came from poor people who came from poor people who came from poor people,” Arnold explains, “all the way back to the very first poor people.” 
sherman alexie grew up on the spokane reservation in washington state - and he quite obviously has a strong handle on the reality of reservation life. prior to the novel, he began with poetry, then expanded into short stories, novels, screenplays and stand-up comedy.  the cartoons are illustrated by ellen forney, and she narrates what the words can't (if you can imagine) - the mind of a child being thrown into a very adult world. 
throughout the year that the book covers, it explores death (“I’m 14 years old, and I’ve been to 42 funerals,” Arnold says. “That’s really the biggest difference between Indians and white people.”), love (“If you let people into your life a little bit, they can be pretty damn amazing.”), and social isolation (“Life is a constant struggle between being an individual and being a member of the community") and all the things that a teenager encounters - but shouldn't have to - specifically relating to growing up on a reserve. it follows arnold as he decides to leave the reserve, and move to a 'white' high school - where he needs to trek miles to receive an education that he isn't accepted into, he's turned away for wanting, and he's clearly overqualified for. you begin to understand and relate to arnold, and yet, his tragedies are ones we can't understand. and somehow, the writing appeals to all of us who recall what it is like to be a teenager - fundamentally, we all want to be loved, understood, and accepted. arnold encounters crushes, best friends who are outcasts as well - and who turn on him without understanding why - he deals with poverty and addiction, and love in a way that most children will never have. the book itself looks at the perspective of a child, and their priorities. and what goes on inside, even when the world seems to block that child out.
the book is heartbreaking and hilarious. truly. 

some of my favourite quotes from the book....
“at the hospital, my mother wept and wailed. She’s lost her mother. When anybody, no matter how old they are, loses a parent, I think it hurts the same as if you were only five years old, you know? I think all of us are always five years old in the presence and absence of our parents”
_____________________

“so I looked up the word ‘grief’ in the dictionary. I wanted to find out everything I could about grief. I wanted to know why my family has been given so much to grieve about. And then I discovered the answer: ‘grief: when you feel so helpless and stupid that you think nothing will ever be right again, and your macaroni and cheese tastes like sawdust and you can’t even jerk off because it seems like too much trouble’”
_____________________

“’you can do it’
‘I can do it’
Do you understand how amazing it is to hear that from an adult? Do you know how amazing it is to hear that from anyone? It’s one of the simplest sentences in the world, just four words, but they’re the four hugest words in the world when they’re put together”
“yep, my daddy was an undependable drunk. But he’s never missed any of my organized games, concerts, plays or picnics. He may not have loved me perfectly, but he loved me as well as he could”

“I know that people were very sad. I know that [the death] made everybody remember all the deaths in their life. I know that death is never added to death; it multiples. But still, I couldn’t stay and watch all of those people get drunk. I couldn't do it. If you’d given me a room full of sober Indians, crying and laughing, and telling stories about [her], then I would have gladly stayed and joined them in the ceremony. But everybody was drunk. And everybody was unhappy. And they were drunk and unhappy in the same exact way.”
_____________________

“Rowdy and I climbed and climbed and climbed. We made it to the top. Well, almost to the top. Even rowdy was too scared to step on the thinnest branches. So we made it within ten feet of the top. Not the summit. But close enough to call it the summit. We clung tightly to the tree as it swung in the breeze. It was scared, sure, terrified. But it was also fun, you know? We were more than one hundred feet in the air. From our vantage point, we could see for miles. We could see from one end of the reservation to the other. we could see our entire world. And our entire world, at that moment, was green and golden, and perfect.”
this book is fantastic. it may seem childish at first, but i was sobbing like a small child by the end. perfectly complex in all the right ways.
"The world, even the smallest parts of it, is filled with things you don't know."
images from:   twitter   //   wikipedia   //   well read

bitchin' drinks

dudes. i like to drink. it's fun, and cool in the summer (like, temperature cool, not that you're a loser if you don't). i like mixing, i like beer, i like vodka, and i'm trying VERY hard to like the brown stuff (spicebox shoutout!).
*as a note, i was searching for various alcohol references in my previous entries, and in searching for 'beer', nearly every 'weekend in summary' post popped up. hmmm... interesting.
so, in the summer time, i like to mix up the drinking with activities - I LOVE ACTIVITIES. i often drag friends into things like building forts, and making mint juleps. and i'm always looking for different activities, and different drinks to go hand in hand.
then, i found the mother load. camille styles. recipes, decorating, etc. 
so many drinks! so much fun! so many pairings for fun activities! anyone who knows me, knows i love me some sangria... hence, the 2 sangria recipes. friends - this chick sangria's a LOT. i love her.
so. who wants to drink at my place?
take them. drink them. enjoy them with activities. lots of safe activities. but fun!
(also, bonus recipe from a beautiful mess, because this drink looks DREAMY)