day two. january twelvth.
asparagus, yams and rice. leftover foccacia and christmas truffles.
a failed game of scrabble, an extraordinary game of speed scrabble.
in rainbows, ben harper (welcome to the cruel world).
two months until my twenty-fifth. shit.
day three. photo inquiries, camera comparing, and blog rolling.
we ate rice. rice with black beans, garbanzo, tomato, lime, cilantro. and salt.
we drank orange juice over another game of scrabble. (coax, yule, futon)
but first, we attended a grade seven boys basketball game where we reminisced of younger years. I, the mvp, he, the last chosen.
how romantic to end up together.
dinner music: peter gabriel.
closed shop at the bakery. chicken curry.
dreamt of a life in photos.
400 chosen. pain au chocolate.
camera shopping and buying. 50D.
house cleaning for guests. reorganized book shelf.
quote of the day. "dude, mall people are weird. Let's find Fuetch (Future Shop) and get the hell out of here" - johannes gerald van bommel van vloten.
music: yo la tengo. mix from Jeremy (JK1) "coyote"
a walk around the village. toiletries and pizza.
home. soundgarden as a soundtrack to a houseclean.
before dinner at the Mint and a night at the Empress with friends, Johannes and I lay on the couch.
"what colour would you paint the walls of our future house?" - k.
"I don't know, what brand of toilet would you like to have?" -j.
yep, the Empress was nice, though a bit regal for my liking. overwhelming even.
A mad meeting at Discovery followed with friends of all kinds.
Brittany and Tessa came. (yes!)
after a beautiful dinner accompanied by Patrick Watson, Bowie's "Low" and "Heroes", we got a phone call about an upcoming birth.
Within an hour, our friends were perched on our couch with a cheese and fruit platter, and we were on our way to attend a birth.
Kaia Willow, born at 12:53 am. beautiful.
she was quiet and pretty, the house peaceful and dim lit.
her head formed during the day as we walked and talked and photographed and ate together with friends downtown.
we returned to the Russell house in the eve, making them beet and yam soup, salad, whilst enjoying a few bottles of wine in celebration of the birth, slowing enjoying rabbit pate, pistachios and goat cheese on a slate tray.
we drank and laughed and watched.
took the city bus home and went right to bed.
a whole twelve hour sleep later, we woke, spent the morning lounging over breakfast and Daterra, steaming and cosy for our morning, which by now was noon.
we cleaned our our drawers, made love, took a load of clothes to W.I.N., and sat and ate fresh baking from Wildfire.
pain au chocolate, cinnamon bun, lavender shortbread, fig & oat chew, with garlic and cheddar bread to follow for the walk home.
we thrifted, where we found books and books.
He, the Dune series & Mordecai Richler, and I, the updated and expanded 90's edition of Our Bodies, Ourselves, the ultimate female companion.
We were asleep by ten, Johannes by the bedside reading, and I, still exhausted, to Julie & Julia.
(a broken promise).
After a slow, ungratifying day at the bakery, I had an hour massage, complete with a Shakra reading. (my body was unaligned, she said.)
the ginger essential oil stayed with me as I prepared dinner.
K-os and M.I.A. provided the soundtrack.
Salad, chicken, asparagus and almonds.
we ate and rushed to make a batch of Diane's cookies and drink another French press of Daterra.
no crumbs left.
only a little silt at the bottom of the Bodum.
and now, a bath to TV on the Radio.
I have branches in my bedroom, grey on my bed, orange in the air, and black and white above my head.