Saturday, November 28, 2009

You Dig Baby?

"Digger" (or more accurately "diGAAAH") was probably the bear's 5th word. He doesn't appear to have a favorite make or model, and he will yodel encouragingly at anything yellow that is bigger than a car (including, horrifyingly enough, Hummers). So when they started digging up Yonge just at the end of our street he was a very happy little chap. For the last 2 or 3 months we have had diggers and cement mixers and rollers and Heavy Dangerous Things to look at on our walks; and we can't just walk past, oh no, we have to stop and have a look every. single. time.
Me: Oh hey look! It's a back hoe/two man lift/ in-transit mixer/ asphalt skimmer/ hydraulic jack!
Teddy: DiGAAAH!

Anyway, on the Tuesday after my birthday we took the bear and the pooch out to get groceries. My boys stayed outside the shop and in the 5 minutes it took me to pick up dinner Teddy had charmed a platoon of workmen and a policeman and had been offered a ride on a digger. The police guy diverted traffic so the jcb driver could pull into a side street and up Teddy and I hopped.

The bear knew exactly what to do, grab the wheel and make BRrrrum sounds. I have never been in a digger either and I might have been quietly squeeeeeeeeing at the awesomeness.
So diggers = awesome. Also Canadians. Call me a cynic but I can't imagine the same thing happening on Oxford Street or Tottenham Court road

Since then we have been watching this rather a lot:

Friday, November 27, 2009

A Piggie Wheeze Birthday

Everyone in my house got the bacon lung. First me then my sweetie then the bear. It was not the most fun ever but it wasn't the GERM APOCALYPSE (run! run! save yourselves!) that our media has been promising.

I felt a lousy and went to bed early for a few days, and took some meds to keep my fever down and some honey for the cough that eventually turned up. Not fun. But not the end of the world either, and no time off "work" for me. (Why yes, I am bragging about my immune system a bit.)

My sweetie got sick the day before my birthday, (the Friday) we had some chums around for a few drinkies and had a nice time, and also accidentally infected them. OOPS. Andy groaned quietly into his beer.

By Saturday, he was in full swine swing, laying around on the couch and groaning like a consumptive Victorian. On my birthday.
Now, bearing in mind that we didn't really know it was the piggie wheeze and that I am kind of a monster, I was pretty horrible to my sweetie.
I was all, "Oh hey look, you have exactly what I did but with roughly four times as much whining. Poor you."
He was all "Hack. Groan. Whimper"

So I took my bear out for sushi and felt a bit sorry for myself. Le sigh.
BUT
I did get the to open and coo over my hat (again) want to see it?

And then my Bear got sick. Which is a whole 'nuther post.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Daddy Sang Bass, Mama Sang Tenor...

Where was I?

Ok, so, After I'm scoured off the fake blood and spent, ooooh about 4 days, picking the latex wounds outta my hair, My Auntie M arrived. I had a completely wonderful time showing her around, we stomped and stared and window shopped. It was lovely to see her and really nice to show her all my favorite things about this city.
Now, you might not know this about my auntie M, and in fact I didn't, but that woman can produce a HELLUVA backcomb. She is, of course, awesome in lots of other ways too.

I don't as a general rule tease the dickens out of my hair. This was for a special occasion. There was a Noah and the Whale gig at the Horseshoe on October 31st. The flyer called for dead celebrities. And that's the kind of call I like to take. (Unlike the Toronto Star subscription hawking guys. I hate those calls. Seriously people. No thanks. Your paper is boo shoo... um, I digress.)
So we needed costumes, my sweetie and I (bless his girlfriend-humoring-costume wearing heart).

You know who's dead? And also blisteringly brilliant in every way?
Johnny Cash and June Carter. That's who.


So I whipped up a costume (yes, another one, what? I just like to)
I went for fairly early '60s June and Andy borrowed a vintage suit.
And here we are smooshin' on each other
And here are the real deal:

The Music was good, the company was excellent and the drinks were plentiful. A super fun time was had. Only now I have to hear a least one Johnny cash song a day (but not Hurt) or life feels less sparkly.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Go for the head shot....


Zombies are awesome.
Just are.
Dressing up like a zombie and lurching through the streets of Toronto with a bunch of other people? That, my friends is, La BOMB.
My chum Ali introduced us to the phenomenon. Last year we were zombie housewives complete with curlers and housecoats. Those pictures are here.

This year there was a plan to be Beauty Queen Zombies. But I could not find a thing to wear! I was having trouble coming up with an alternative idea but at 2 am on the night before the walk, inspiration struck. I love when that happens.
So the morning of the walk I whipped up a Zombie Waitress costume. Which worked out nicely because unbeknownst to me the boys were Zombie Butchers.

I had happened to pick up a couple of meters of REALLY pink, vintage 100% plastic fabric (I'm guessing polyester but who knows, it could be made of used Kleenex and tiger whiskers) from the Goodwill when I was hunting( unsuccessfully) for evening wear. So I whipped up a VERY simple A line shift dress.
I was going to make a mock collar out of black felt, I fooled around with the design for about 20 minutes. Got bored. Got angry. Said some swears and decided to use a shirt collar instead and make contrasting cuffs.
The final touches are what really made the outfit work I think. I whipped up a hat thingy. I have no idea what these are called and my google-fu is not strong today so if anybody knows shout 'er out. The Brain on a platter is actually a paper bag scrunched up and covered in paint and fake blood.
Here's the whole deal. You want fries with that?

(photo credit)
the whole gang is HERE.

Oh HAI!

Turns out when I said "tomorrow", in that last whiny post thur I actually meant "In exactly one months time".
Yep.

(oh hey an awkward silence!)

So, how the devil are you? Been doing anything fun? Like turning 3-stinking-1 and having the bacon lung?
I only ask 'cause that's mostly what we've been doing.

Firstly though, Dapper Hat Day! It was fun, there was ice-cream and enough sugar to induce slight nausea and the shakes.
That morning my chum Kate and I went shopping for chapeaus at Wildhagen, a hand-crafted hat joint on Queen st. It's lovely and it just happens to be above a ribbon shop, making it pretty much a perfect storm of establishments-that-I-am-into awesomeness. You should go. Right now.

Dapper hats were found and purchased. and lookit here they are in ACTION. The action of being hats...
Doesn't everyone look fine! and can we take a quick moment to observe how cute Kate is in that hat? See, ador-ibble!
there are a few more pictures here.
Notice that there's no picture of MY dapper hat? Well, here's why... my hat was my bird day present. So after I'd worn it that night I made my sweetie HIDE it. For reals.
I know it sounds a bit stupid but this way I totally got to SUPER enjoy it three times. Firstly with the shopping for it. Secondly at the D.H.D ice cream slurping and thirdly with the whole anticipation/present opening thing.
So dapper hats... fun times.

After dapper hat day came... THE TORONTO ZOMBIE WALK! Which gets a whole post all to itself. Because hey, it's my damn blog and I have a hour to kill while the bear is napping and I am avoiding cleaning the bathroom.
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