The Disappearance Act

I am still alive, friends. No need to worry.

Unfortunately, I have been sorely uninspired for the last month and a half. I promise I will get back on the blogging bus soon. I have some exciting projects to share, and I hope to do so this weekend.

Stay posted!

Yugoslavia and Vintage Boots

Every once in a while I get the urge to thrift. It is a urge which needs to be kept well in check since thrift shopping for me tends to result in unnecessary purchases of clothing I will never wear (cite the parrot-design knitted ugly sweater decision of October 2012... don't know what I am talking about? That's because you haven't seen the sweater..)

Sometimes, in my moments of embarassing weakness, I give into my alter-ego - Bad 80s Clothing Brittany (she can be a bit of a badass) - and come out of secondhand stores with a fashion faux that not even a belt can fix. And no matter how many ways I try to style it - long silver necklaces, jeggings, high boots, etc., I end up realizing that it's final life destination probably should have been the thrift store, and not my closet. Friends come in handy here, too. Take only the friends whom you can trust to be brutally honest; they will save you from thrift-shop purgatory and bring you back to the land of cute dresses and butterflies. 

It helps to have a plan when going into overwhelmingly large stores like Talize or Value Village. I usually start with housewares, passing over vintage tea sets, pyrex casserole dishes, and saucers, reminding myself that, until I have a house of my very own, I can't crowd my shared space with things I have no room for. 

Once I've passed through the book section, I typically meander about the shoes. It is a blessing that I have no fear of strange foot diseases, because scooping up vintage boots has become my favourite part of thrift shopping. And I rarely fail. One of the best pair of boots I have ever purchased were a pair of vintage Eatons 80s black leather boots. I wear them on a regular basis, and other than a small repair job to one of the wooden heels, they have fared extremely well. I've also managed a pair of genuine leather Aldo cowboy boots which were too small for my already tiny feet and got passed off to a friend who adores them more than I ever could.

So when Bad 80s Clothing Brittany stumbled upon pair of vintage suede boots at a Talize in London, ON, she grabbed them and ran. 

Gorgeous, right? I thought so too, and before I could resist, the boots became the classically heeled foundation point for all further purchases.

Now, if I have learned anything from my favourite thrifting fashionista, Julie, it is that thrifting only works well if you check the tag - find out what brand the item is before you spend good money on something which, being secondhand, should cost you less than its going retail price. There is absolutely nothing worse than finding a cute dress marked $12.99 at Talize and then realizing the brand is Walmart - the dress was probably cheaper new than secondhand.

UPSTAGE is a brand I have never ever come across. I have never seen it in any Canadian or American stores. Usually when this happens, the brand is imported from Europe, has been purchased by its previous owner on holidays, or has mishapped its way across the globe. The print on the tag first alerted me to the age of the boots, as did the fact that the tag held a 7 digit serial number. Since contemporary marketing has replaced these IDs with barcodes, you can typically assume that anything with a tag looking like this is pre 1995. 

It's a good thing I have my perception led me to look, because when I turned the tag over...

Kid-in-the-Barbie-Aisle-During-Snow-Brittany and Bad-80s-Clothing-Brittany were rudely pushed aside as History-Nerd-Brittany came running in full speed, history lesson in hand (my professors would be so proud...). 

See, Yugoslavia's existence during the 20th Century was tumultuous. For a large part of its post-WWII life, it was under the power of the USSR, and was basically rendered obsolete during the 1991 Yugoslav wars. The country no longer exists under the name Yugoslavia, and hasn't since 1992. Not only that, between 1970 and 1991/2 the country/socialist republic was in a constant state of economic and political turmoil. 1/2 million people lost their jobs in a 3 year period. Wars devastated the SFRY. Unfortunately, during any war, the buying and selling of fashion is one of the first luxuries to get snubbed. And since Yugoslavia wasn't economically stable, I can imagine that the exports of suede boots were not a top priority. So, though I have no idea what these particular boots have seen, I like to imagine they experienced world history.

And lucky for you, I compiled some photos of my other thrifted gems, outfitted from the boots up!

(all photos were taken with the iPhone 4S, edited with Adobe Photoshop Elements)

Who knew a pair of boots could have so much history? I sure didn't. I guess it's a good thing that History-Nerd-Brittany took over this one. If that hadn't happened, you might have been reading a post about the importance of owning at least one sweater with a giant dog face on it...

Yes. That happened.

Let it be Christmas, everywhere

Since I live in Canada, I know first hand what the lyricist is talking about when they proclaim to be "dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the one's [they] used to know." Each year, sometime around November 12 (well, exactly November 12.. I have a spoken rule in my life that declares I am not permitted to think of Christmas or snow until Remembrance Day has been observed) I break out the Christmas tunes, and the visions of sugar plum fairies begin dancing around in my head. Unfortunately, this also means that my obsession with snow takes a front row seat in the life and times of winter me. And winter me is a happy me.

So when December 20 rolled around and the Mayan apocalypse was looming over my Christmas cheer, I couldn't believe my luck. Could it be? Could we really have a white Christmas? Or would my white Christmas turn green and leave me blue as I spent another year being foiled by Global Warming's cruel sense of humour. 

Sugar plum fairies turned to snow fairies, and my mind began drifting off into hypothetical snowbanks. I wanted my world to transform into the White Witch's castle in the Chronicles of Narnia. I wanted to wake up to a world glistening white and clean and magical. 

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Now, while we are being honest, this is pretty much what I see when there is snow. One flake turns me into a five year old kid down the Barbie aisle of the local Walmart. I go beserk. I watch out windows with Vanilla Earl Grey tea in my oversized Mickey Mouse mug (which shouldn't surprise anyone) for hours. I dig out mittens and coats and boots and walk around in it once it accumulates. I take pictures and immortalize every snowscape, visually hanging them in the gallery of my mind. And, when I am really giddy, I go in for the ultimate: I stick my tongue out and hope to capture a few flakes.

Imagine my delight when, on Christmas morning, my hometown awoke to a white world. Fresh snow glittered in the morning sun. I am sure that if Christ hadn't been born in Bethlehem, the Nativity scene would absolutely have snow. Because for me, the glory of the Lord shines through each snowflake - unique, complex, magical. 

And so I dream of white Christmases. I think it is because when I look at snow, and see the world transforming from bleak and dirty into pure and white, Frost's ministry whisks my heart away and I hear the angels proclaiming 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth; peace and goodwill to men.' In fact, I see snow and I hear this: 

Sometimes I can be such a romantic. 

Speaking of romance, check out the [my] piano. 

I guess I am thankful that the Mayan apocalypse didn't get in the way of my favourite holiday. I am also pretty thankful that Global Warming kept her cruel sense of humour away from me this year. I don't think my inner kid-in-the-Barbie-aisle-of-Walmart could have managed another green Christmas. I might have ended up singing Elvis Presley's Blue Christmas to the snow, and that would have been awkward and terrible for everyone. 

It's lovely weather...

May you and yours be blessed this Christmas season. 

Recipe Weekend: Momma's Apple Crumble

With the holidays approaching I felt it was time liven the place up with some holiday cheer. What better way to make the house smell like Christmas than caramelizing apples and cinnamon?

First, lay out the ingredients:

Brown sugar

Apples

Cinnamon

Oats

Flour

Butter

And a glass of wine because you can. 

I used Gala apples because they are my favourite, but you can use whichever type of apple you like best. Macintosh apples provide a nice contrast to the sugar because they are tart, and Delicious apples fill the bowl up faster because they are big. Whichever type of apple you use, you'll need to peel the ones you use. 

Then, pick the music. I opted for a nice selection of Christmas music. I say nice, because I refuse to listen to the same old run-of-the-mill Christmas tunes that air on the radio every December. I like music with substance, that takes risks. Mercyme, Michael W. Smith, Sting, etc. These are some of my favourites. 

The recipe is simple enough. Fill a casserole dish with apples about 3/4 way full. Sprinkle heavily with brown sugar and cinnamon. In a separate bowl, mix 1/2 cup melted butter, 2 cups oats, 1/2 cup flour, and brown sugar. Put the dry mixture on top of the apples and bake at 350 degrees for 30-45 mins. 

When it comes out, it should be nice and sweet and apple crumbly. 

And it will - as long as you remember to add the flour.

Confession: The first time I made the apple crumble, I forgot the flour. Apparently, when you forget the flour, the oats don't get crumbly, they get soggy and stay oatsy. When this happened, I did what every self resepecting twenty-something year old woman would do - I called my mom. She laughed, as the good mom she is, and then told me that I needed to add flour. Clearly worried that I wouldn't be able to salvage any part of this apple crumble for a good blog post, I quickly set out to fixing the crumble part of the apple crumble. I felt like Dave Ramsey, rooting through cupboards, pulling out my Quaker Oats, my measuring cups, and my assortment of curse words. I scraped mushy oats off of the apples, reapplied the brown sugar, and tried my hardest to fix up my failure of a baking experiment. I didn't fix it, and instead made an entirely new apple crumble. The skrew-up apple crumble was still tasty, it just wasn't what I was expecting. The second time, I added the flour and it got nice and crispy. 

This time, I dished out the good apple crumble into bowls, and topped it with vanilla yogurt. I chose Source yogurt because it is my favourite, but you can do whatever type you like best. You can even do ice cream on the side if you feel really adventurous (which I didn't...nor did I actually have any in the freezer, which surprised me, since I usually have a exceedingly large tub of it). 

One thing I would like to note is the casserole dish that I used. It was passed down to me from my grandmother before I started university. It used to have a twin, with the colours inverted. It broke during my second year after an unfortunate tumble off the counter. This one, however, has survived. It is probably my favourite casserole dish, and I plan on keeping it long enough to pass on to a younger generation. 

Sentimental, I know.

Once upon a quilt..

Back in October of 2011, I began a spontaneous DIY project. I started making a quilt.

Hundreds of squares, and yards of thread later, I am 3 rows away from having the face of the quilt finished.

It's about the size of a double bed, and has absolutely no pattern other than the alternating colours. The fabrics have all come from my mother's basement. Many of the fabrics have childhood significance: old drapes, barbie clothes, or leftover scraps from mom's quilting days. It's been really cool to see them all come together into this. 

I plan on putting a thick cotton-fleece backing on the entire quilt, preferably a vanilla white with stripes on it, but I can't be picky since I really can't afford to get something super exciting. I do like the vintage look of the fabrics together, and once I figure out how I want to do the actual quilting part. I am considering stitching it diagonally. I also don't intend on putting any badding in between the layers of fabric. I am pretty sure that a cotton-fleece backing will be warm enough. 

After this one is finished, I plan on starting an Irish-Chain patchwork quilt. And after that one is finished...

Source: project-nerd.com via Brittany on Pinterest

The 'never-winning' tetris quilt - which I think is about the coolest quilt I have ever seen. Perhaps it is about time I invest in a sewing machine.

Big-person adventures

In the world of big-person adventures, I've discovered a few things.

You see, I idealized this year slightly (and not mistakenly, I might add). I live with a great group of girls, who are clean, respectful, funny, and lovely. I have a beautiful home, and a fantastic landlord, and zero complaints about the city in which I live (other than forgetting to clearly post bus detours or holiday parades).

I've worked these past 3 months in the service industry, specifically food service. These are where my discoveries have become most evident, since I spend a generous amount of my time observing and daydreaming while performing the mundane and repetitive responsibilities of my job. These are personal, as well as cultural.

1) I am not cut out to work a job with no intellectual pay-off. I desire to write papers, to teach, and to learn. I desire to read, to think, and to highlight, note, and post-it all things academic.

2) Our world is too focused on speed. Everything is about speed. We lack patience. That's a fact.

3) Food industry has forgotten one very key factor in their businesses: human beings. The store I work at currently is caught in a Catch 22 of not having enough employees because the company cannot afford to pay more, but then the expectation that the employees they do have should be able to do acts of superhumanity. It is not fair. We aren't paid in gold. Most are only paid minimum wage.

4) That brings me to my next point. Our society is unaffordable. Especially for a young person straight out of college. University degrees have been rendered obsolete since Universities have adopted a capitalist mindset. They are out to make money, not to teach our youth. University degrees do not ensure better jobs. They are not prestigious. They don't even fail students who cannot properly use punctuation in a sentence. What they do ensure is insurmountable debt which is impossible to pay on a minimum wage paycheck after living expenses (rent, utilities, food, phone/internet) have been deducted. Fact: the unemployment rate for university grads (aged 18-30) in Canada is twice that of the unemployment rate of adults over the age of 30 at 18%. That means that 1 in 5 people between the ages of 18 and 30 are unemployed. Incidently, this is also the age group with the most unpaid debt. See the problem?

5) I'm really going to miss a world with Twinkies. There are entire generations of movie references (Ghostbusters, Zombieland) that, in 10 years, teenagers won't understand.

6) Teenagers have no self discipline or sense. I have witnessed hoards of students cross roads in front of wailing ambulances or city buses. They curse and swear as though it was going out of style. They have absolutely no respect for anyone, nor are they capable of putting anything in a garbage recepticle. I'm beginning to wonder if they have been taught that they are above the law, since they loiter, do drug deals, and commit minor acts of fraud on a daily basis. Then again, the police have better things to do than chase a bunch of loitering students from a food service business.

7) Academically intelligent does not equal life intelligent. One of my coworkers, who knows three languages, took two weeks to learn how to punch a meal into the computer. Sad.

8) City buses are the absolute best place to people watch.

Literary Wish-List

I have started compiling a Literary Wish List. It includes all of the books I currently wish I could own and read. With about 11 weeks until Christmas, I would have lots of time for Amazon to get its deliveries in on time.

If only I had the money...

1. After Theory - Terry Eagleton
2. The Silmarilion - J.R.R. Tolkien
3. The Monsters and the Critics (and other essays) - ed. Christopher Tolkien
4. Imaginary Homelands - Salman Rushdie
5. The Strategic Smorgasbord of Postmodernity - Deborah Bowen
6. The Portrait of an Artist as an Old Man - Joseph Heller
7. Joseph Anton: A memoir - Salman Rushdie
8. Infinite Jest - David Foster Wallace

I'm especially interested in getting my hands on as much Eagleton as I can find. I find his theories (as sympathetic to literary marxism as he may be) absolutely lovely. 

Book Review: Immanuel's Veins by Ted Dekker

Ted Dekker is known for intense good versus evil confrontation thrillers that usually lend readers toward a male hero who seeks to defend the virtue of a young, beautiful woman. His heroes are strong, they are quick, they are torn between the metaphysical realities of God and love and physical restraints of humanity and sin. And honestly, the plots become sorely repetative.

I had to take a break from reading Ted Dekker. It isn't that he is a bad author. On the contrary. I think is Circle "Trilogy" is one of the better novel packs I have read in the last 10 years (man, I just dated myself...), but he has typecasted his characters, writing what he knows - strong hero, blushing bride, good vs evil for the epic battle of the heart, and there is usually a redemption story. It just got to the point where I felt Dekker had fallen into a more riveting and slightly less obnoxious [male] version of Christian romance novels. Yes, that is a dangerous claim to make.

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I knew what I was getting into when I opened this book. But only to an extent. 

See, Immanuel's Veins did not, in any way at all, keep me interested. I read it for one reason, and one reason only: Dekker played with Russian history and folklore, and as a history and fairy story nutcase, I bit. The characters were not interesting to me. They were typical caricatures for a Dekker novel, and I was disappointed because I had hoped for more. Disappointment number one.

The characters all ended up in this creepy gothic castle where this beastly vampire-esque Vlad posed as the super lover, revealing himself to be the evil foil to our hero, Toma. But it got really weird when Dekker started weaving in Biblical mythology of Nephilim (Genesis 6) with his gothic Russian set plot. For his fictional purposes, Dekker suggested that the Nephilim were wicked creatures who came to be known in modern literature and story as ...wait for it...vampires. Disappointment number two.

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[If you need to know more about who the Nephilim are, click here. It will take you to a really helpful Wikipedia page outlining the two scholarly views on who the Nephilim are...and you'll notice that 'vampire' isn't on the list.]

I can understand why Dekker did it, though. Immanuel's Veins was published during the final stretch of the Twilight mania. It was released in the USA in 2010, the same year Summit Entertainment put out Eclipse, the third installment of the Twilight movie saga. Further, interlacing Nephilim mythology with Vampire folklore opened up the 'paid in blood, cleansed in baptismal water' theme that Dekker likes so much. After all, how else was he going to get away with seduction scenes and true love at the point of a savior (without it sounding too much like a Bella/Edward/Jacob situation)?

I have to give Dekker credit where credit is due. He wrote the story he is good at. Repetative and anti-climactic as it is becoming at this point in his literary career, it does sell. What worries me, though, is that Dekker won't ever take chances on something new. He is no Kurt Vonnegut, David Foster Wallace, or Julian Barnes. He knows this. But he has the potential to be. I'm tired of reading books by Dekker and reading the same story over and over and over again. His peak was the Circle series. I hope he finds something to redeem his writers career, because I believe he shows promise. 

Was Immanuel's Veins the best piece of English Literature that I've read? No. But that's okay. I'm just glad his vampires didn't sparkle in the sunlight.

Soup on Sunday

Not a weekly installment by any means, but I wanted to share my recipe for Potato Bacon soup with my readers.

It seems appropriate to make soup since the weather here has been getting colder and rainier by the hour. There was one glorious moment this week when the winter coat made a cameo (and I may have rejoiced a little). The cold weather, to me, also means it's time to make soup - and this week I plan on making - and freezing - enough of it so that I have some to pull out on those rainy days.

So here it is. Brittany's Rainy Day Potato Bacon Soup!

Recipe:

[You Need]
4-6 large potatoes
1 medium red or white onion
1 1/2 cup of chicken broth
4-6 strips of bacon
1 stalk green onion
1 can of Cream of Mushroom/Celery/Broccoli soup
1 1/2 cups of milk
Salt
Pepper
Other assorted spices

1. Dice whatever type of potato you like best. I prefer yellow potatoes, since I find they last a really long time. They are also a little sweeter, and less starchy than white potatoes, which is good, since potato soup tends to have a lot of salt in it, and starch and salt together doesn't always make for the healthiest choice. When you've diced the potatoes (I used 4 large-ish potatoes for a medium sized pot), toss them in the pot with some water and bring them to a boil.

2. Next, dice a medium sized onion. The diced onion peices should be about the same size as the potato (no more than 2 cm in width). Toss the onions in to boil with the potato. Red onions are fine if you want to add some colour.

3. While the potatoes and onions are boiling away, start a frying pan on medium-high heat. Take out your bacon, and use about 4 slices. I cut the bacon up into peices about an inch wide with scissors before throwing it in the frying pan. It cuts down on cooking time, and you don't have to wait for the bacon to cool before 'crumbling' and putting it in the soup.

4. By the time your bacon is done frying, your potatoes and onions should be boiled. Strain them. Dump back into hot pot, and mash around with a fork. I like to have potato and onion chunks in my soup, so I didn't mash it completely.

5. Add your milk, and canned soup, and stir up until creamy.

6. Add bacon, without the grease.

7. Add chicken broth, and half a can of water.

8. Stir in green onions (and any other veggies...I've put corn, tomatoes, and avocados in this before, too). Allow the soup to simmer on the stove for about ten minutes on medium heat. It should come back up to a low boil.

9. Add pepper, salt, garlic powder, seasoning salt, bay leaves, celery seed, and any other spices you like. I threw some roasted red pepper seasoning in it too. Once you've added your spices, let it simmer for about ten more minutes. When it's hot, scoop into a bowl, and add some cheese.

I finished the dish with some rye bread, cheese, avocado, ground pepper, and turkey. To drink: Oasis's Pomegranate and Berry juice. 

Yum!

Let me know how your "Rainy Day Potato Bacon Soup" turns out!