10 years ago on a European backpacking trip I fell in love with mountains. On someone else's advice, I arrived in a tiny village in the Swiss mountains after dark at a charming hostel. Right away I made friends and we had wine (at high altitudes), sing alongs and bonding conversations. An epic night, but in the morning the weather was rainy and being so high, we were surrounded by clouds. I had no idea what anything more than 10 feet from me looked like so I was awe struck when the sky clearing revealed giant mountain peaks right above and around me. I had never seen anything so enormous and breathtaking and beautiful in my life. They were so overwhelming and magnificent...as mountains are, yet I have never been anywhere close to a mountain before, and here I was for the first time, with them right there in front of me...beside me, above me...everywhere!

Me and my new best friends wasted no time and got hiking. We came across waterfalls, glaciers, many cows, and the typical 'ricola' commercial scene of steep green slopes peppered with purple and yellow flowers.

Sometimes we hiked in silence, sometimes we sang top pop 80's tunes and sometimes we listened to the jangle of cow bells from the distant hills.

The hills are alive with the sound of music.

Summiting a mountain is hard work...tires muscles, accelerated heartbeat , dirt caked under my fingernails, but at the top I felt pure joy...bliss.

On one such hike my friends and I took along lunch and it was the best tuna sandwich I ever had. For dessert we had this incredible white chocolate filled with a creamy center. It took me a while to realize that it wasn't a hard-to-find specialty Swiss chocolate, but a very available lindt lindor.

I spent a week there in Gimmelwald and it was close to being the best time of my life.

Just recently I found some of the lindt lindor chocolate at my grocery store and I involuntarily sighed a breath of relief, as in 'phew, thank goodness I found this, my life can be complete again'. Really it's that good, and it brings for me the added sway of nostalgia.

*the photo was taken in Queenstown, New Zealand.

A few weeks ago, for one of the first times in my life I really felt as if my life were moving forward. I felt the motion of being on a forward path. Feeling stuck or lost is familiar to me. Here I was actually moving and it was wonderful. Exciting. But there was another part of me that shouted, 'whoa, slow down a sec', like when you're on a swing and find yourself too high and you think 'mistake!! slow down! My stomach's flipping over!' I got frightened by the newness and needed to take it down a notch, dig my heels in the gravel.
I saw this tree and felt a kinship with the leaves still clinging on. 'That's right', I thought, 'don't let go...change is bad'.

I usually fear change, even when it's for the good. Guilty.
After my panic I giggled at my silliness and realized I need to just look at these fears, let them be, and continue going forward. It takes time.
Sometimes I just need a quick reassuring pat in the right direction.

This video is sweet, and helps.

Look at that...change is good!

I LOVE Ray William Johnson. And I LOVE/adore/live for musicals, so it comes to no surprise that this rocks...

into the woods

I went on an autumn hike through the woods and pretended I wasn't a big loud clumsy human, yet a limber soft trodden doe. It was fun.

There was lots of greens, browns and smatterings of red, yellow and orange.

Along the path I saw something bright orange growing on a tree. Initially spotting it in the distance I couldn't imagine what it was and still can't quite believe it.

Giant vibrant orange mushrooms. Growing vertically along the bark like stacked pancakes. They look like they belong in the sea. When I look at the photos now they make me think of Spain.

I do not know why.

I sat under a huge beautiful tree and every once in a while heard what sounded like a door creaking closed. I looked up and wondered if the tree was creaking in the wind but upon hearing it again I got the feeling it was a bird. I told my friend who tried to be enthusiastic on my behalf but when I dragged her to the tree and she heard for herself she said...'oh, I didn't really believe you!' (I did a google search and found many 'creaking door' sounding birds but none that I can confidently commit to.)

An adventure to say the least.

I can be quite sentimental and I keep things forever and have a really hard time letting things go. So after recently breaking up with the gentleman I've been spending my time with over the past few months, I found myself wanting to choose one of the things he had left behind as a small token before returning the rest.

I had:

a pair of his tighty whitey undies

his 'planet earth' season one dvd

a toothbrush

an old dishcloth from his ma which we had taken on our canoe camping trip

So, the dvd didn't even play in my dvd player as it was a uk version and I wasn't interested in it anyhow. If I'm going to keep something to remember someone by, it won't be something as generic as a television series.

Moving on to the underwear...I remember how exciting it was finding his underwear hiding under my pillow or in other areas around my bed when we first started spending time together. I would do the laundry and he'd be so surprised when I presented him with freshly folded pairs of his underwear...'how did I manage to leave so many of these here?' he'd always wonder. But keeping his undies would present an awkward issue the next time I'm in a relationship. I wouldn't want my future man wondering what the eff I'm doing keeping some dudes fruit of the looms around for.

Which leaves us to the toothbrush. I actually kept my boyfriend befores' toothbrush in the holder for months after we ended things, not able to bring myself to toss it. I think keeping his toothbrush was a sign of denial, not wanting it to be over and having hope that things could reignite. With this man things are over though and what better way to send that message than returning a toothbrush.

So I found myself very much wanting to keep this old, ratty, frayed, faded dishtowel. It's a hand-me-down from his Mother when he moved into his own place. It was the perfect one to bring on our camping trip since it was already so disheveled. But I really liked the homey feel of it and how it used to be used in the house he grew up in by him and his family. His Mother is just about the sweetest thing around and I'm sad knowing I'll never see her again. I like that his mother gave it to him and I like knowing that his little hands were on it when he was a wee wipper snapper growing up. And we had such a great time on our camping trip together. And it perfectly fits my sentimental criteria.

But I gave it all back to him today. I think I had a moment of guilt even though he isn't even aware he left this at my place and would never ever miss it or think about it again. And if I told him this entire ridiculous blurb I just shared with you, he would hand over the towel and let me have it...would probably even want me to have it, this old tattered shmatah. And I saw a part of myself, and how I am different from him, and this is what I need to focus on now.

I want want want this. Every time I pass by the store I see it and want it again. And I know what you're thinking...'but you have so many squirrel lamps'. Really though, one can't have enough.

It's not everyday that a girl falls in love. Walking into the new-to-Toronto Crate and Barrel store the other day though, that's what I felt. My heart flipped and my jaw dropped at all the colours and cute designs. And all the leaves everywhere...leaf shaped platters, fabric, my new future duvet cover and a leaf table runner that I am considering buying a table for just so I can have. Perhaps because it's the fall season all the colours were perfect for me...look at this striped rug...and could that log side table be any more perfect?!

Sailboats too...

And this amazing shag carpet that I just had to bury my toes in. It was seriously the highlight of my day. I died a little when I saw the price ($1500). I plan on visiting this carpet again, but sadly I won't own it.

Woke first thing in the morning...which is 10:30 by the way...to call my friend and arrange on a meeting place for lunch. As we talked I heard her 5 month old daughter screeching in the background. Just blood curdling sounds. At such an un-godly hour. Hanging up I realized sadly, that I'm not fit for motherhood.

Then I went back to sleep.

Once I was washed, clothed and ready for real life and interaction I met up with my friend and her two daughters. The screeching turned out to be a sound that her daughter Emy makes when she's perfectly happy. Dimples and all. And admittedly, once you see the smiles and dimples, the sounds are rather charming.

And the other daughter Neshie, at the young age of 4, was flooring me with her bright snappy spirit. Clear and straight forward, no hesitations in asking for what she wants or needs, even from complete strangers, and the ability to know what she needs at a given time. She put my communication skills to shame. Seriously, this 4 year old running around naked could be an influential life coach for my whole family.

We all had a lovely day of chit-chatting, lunch and jewellery shopping.

Highlights included:

Emy's delighted face as she tried butternut squash for the first time

Realizing Neshie and I shared the same taste in music (let's hear it for Annie and The Little Mermaid!!)

Picking out 'eyeshadow' for Neshie at a children's store and watching her pay for it with 'found' money from her little purse

Having her ever so gently apply said eyeshadow to me, then exclaiming that I "looked perfect!"

All this and of course the nice adult conversation I had with their Mom.

Thank you all for showing me how giving and fun families can be. Motherhood seems less daunting indeed. Rather it seems adventurous and exciting. Just not before mummy's awake.

This is my new bracelet...Pretty huh? It's made up of many orange gemstones of some sort.

So this is the story...

My sister and I made plans for dinner with one of our very awesome cousins (she married into the family obviously). She arrived before us and was reading one of my favorite books (luulabies for little criminals) and wearing this bracelet. Jordana, my sister, made a comment that I would probably love her bracleet, which I did and said so.

I love things orange and green and brown (like the 70's) and Jordana loves things pink and purple and turquoise (like an eight year olds drawing of a princess), so it was typical of me to like the beads and typical of Jordana to notice.

Our sweet cousin Maria immediately reacted to my compliment by offering me the bracelet. Even though I politely declined, she continued to insist, explaining that she had just bought it in Banff but had forgotten that she bought one almost identical, previously in Arizona. After some persusion I accepted. I put it on, showed off to Jordana about my good luck, and she whispered back, "I can't believe someone bought that thing twice".

Well, I like it.

So, camping season...time to pull out the ol' tent.

Or not...why not sleep outside. Really, didn't we once sleep outside, us humans. Now we lucky folks are attached to our cozy duvets and air conditioning, we would have a hard time settling into a night in the open.

For me personally, even sleeping in a tent with no fly is an exciting event. Smell the air, see the trees above, perhaps even the moon...

Keep your eyes open and absorb it all.

In Australia while traveling, I went on a tour through the Kimberly's in the North West and while most of the group slept in tents, I chose to sleep outside in a swag next to the fire and the two guides. I was terrified of snakes and spiders and dingos and plenty of other things that could kill me, but I was too excited by the idea of sleeping right under the blanket of stars right next to the campfire, and knew that an opportunity again like this would be far away. The kind of swag they let me borrow had a slightly padded bottom and a heavy canvas covering and my sleeping bag fit right in it. Aside from rolling out the swag, and crawling in, there was nothing else to it. There I was saying 'goodnight moon' and looking right at her. Fall asleep with a soft fresh breeze on your face, your last sight the sky filled with stars. Wake to a huge sprawling burst of red, orange and pink hues of the sunrise overhead. Remember that life really is magic.

another reason to love leaves

At dinner tonight, after a glass of wine, a friend told me about an intriguing thing. She explained there is a device she has, that can determine where a woman is, in her monthly cycle. All you need to do is spit on this device, and a beautiful fern leaf pattern will appear if you are ovulating. Spit, fern leaf, time to get preggers. It seemed like the kind of thing where a day later I would call my friend and tell her, 'ya, I had this crazy dream where you told me about this thing...you had to spit on it, and then your saliva would turn into a fern leaf and that's how you would know you were ovulating...I know, crazy dream...', but NO, not a dream, not crazy. All real. Ah-may-zing.

I found some of the mentioned awesome ovulation testers on the Internet and I'm not trying to get pregnant but here are the reasons I'm aching badly for one:
I like trees and leaves.
I can feel myself ovulate. Or so I think and would like to know for sure.
I have my 'monthly moons' within a day of the full moon. This last point can count more for pride than reason.

Well, my friend had barely any use for her tester as all she had to do was the basic necessary deed to become even a bit pregnant...twice...so she has offered me hers. After telling me this I wanted to blurt, "OF COURSE I WANT IT", but I also felt as if it's like sharing a toothbrush or diva cup. Still though, the urge to see my saliva form into a beautiful fern is too overpowering.

gold leaves

I have a pair of beautiful gold leaf earrings that I was given as a gift by my lovely friend Sarah. She knew I was obsessively looking everywhere for leaf earrings and she found these in New York by a local artist and bought them for me. They are so perfect I cried in a good way when I opened my gift.

I usually wear them as a fancy occasion accessory. Here's what they look like on me...

And this is a video where I explain them at a craft show...

Years ago I went on an awesome camping trip with some friends. This wasn't a pull in and park kind of trip. We took a canoe across the lake that included a portage. Any canoe trip brings the possibility of tipping, so to avoid massive problems we went to great lengths...like putting ALL our belongings in special waterproof bags, and then tying ALL these bags together, and then tying all that to the actual canoes. Needless to say, it took a while to get on the lake. And of course we had the portage, so we had to untie everything, drag it across the land to the other part of the lake, re-tie everything and continue.

Once on our own awesome island, we still couldn't relax. Tents, tarps, cooking and cleaning. Never mind at the end of the night, before bed, tie all our food in a bag and swing over a tree to hang OR put all food in canoe and anchor out in the lake to avoid bears coming for our food. BEARS?? That's right...bears. As it turns out, if you really want to get away from the city, you need to travel far enough that you end up where Bears live.

Not only did we need to put our food in the middle of the lake, but we needed to include anything with fragrance, like deodorant or fruity lip balm. Don't keep that in your tent, that'll only attract a bear, or worse yet, a cub.

Since this was a real hardcore camping trip, we just didn't have room for comforts like air mattresses, and late night while I was feeling rather like the princess and the pea, I heard some noise. My head shot up, ears alert to what the sounds could be. After listening carefully and ruling out friends-going-to-pee and anything else remotely logical, I began to panic. Utterly convinced there was a bear just inches aways, with nothing but a flimsy tent in the way, I was imagining the simple swap of a paw that would rip away the tent and half my face to get to the nom-noms he smelled inside. What was it...did I forget a candy inside my purse...my shampoo?? This was the Worse-Case-Scenario about to unfold.

I was stone still, barely breathing and frightened for my life. Very slowly and quietly, I reached over and nudged my boyfriend awake. Not wanting to make any noise, I took his hand and placed it on my heart which was pounding out of my chest from fear. He got the message, all right. We both lay there, frozen and terrified until we didn't hear any more sounds.

And that's it. That's my story of how I was almost attacked by a bear. Knowing me, and knowing the chances and from what my friends said the next day, it is very likely that what I heard was perhaps a squirrel...maybe a chipmunk. But what do they know.

This video gives me hope for next time. And makes me laugh.

This magnificent willow tree had me stopped in my tracks, stunned. These photos do no justice at all to the actual beauty I saw. This tree is a baby sister to where the elves live in middle earth. It was the inspiration to the tree of souls for the na'vi. This willow tree seemed so huge and majestic, standing there stoic and lit by the setting sun. All the nooks along the trunk were emphasized. It made me fantasize that I was a wood nymph on the way home from skipping and frolicking all day to drink fermented syrup and sing spirited songs. Oh the good life.

Also look at these beauts...

I just can't stop...more photo's of spring. It's a tad out of control...wanting to capture the beauty of everything.

While with my sister today, I saw a beautiful bush caught in the sun with bright new green leaves and gushed at the sight to her. She said she didn't know how we were made of the same DNA. Not that she doesn't love beauty in nature, but it's been a long standing difference between us, how much I can love a rock...or some ol' pine cone. She likes the big ones, like the ocean and the Sun and how it sets. When I get excited about something down in the dirt, she just doesn't get it.

On my walk home I found a stick that I decided to take home and add to my vase of collected sticks, of course, and felt only a bit like a dog with a found treasure when I made a quick stop at the grocery store. I must have been a sight...hair all wild and bushy, camera hanging from my neck, stick swinging from hand. Personally, I firmly believe it was everyone else who was the sight...all manicured and proper, packaged meats in buggy, no found treasure from walk in ravine on gorgeous spring day!

Here's what they missed...

And here is what a seahorse and caterpillars offspring would look like if it mated with a tree...

Ahhh....Spring is here!
The air smells fresh. Everything is alive and vibrant.
It's a very exciting time. Every year I'm captivated by the bright new green of spring and want to get out there and capture it all on camera. By the time I blink it seems to be over. It happens so fast, the tiny buds unfolding.
Budding Blooming Beauties.

While in the bath today, a seahorse formed in the soapy water. It was moments before it stretched into something unrecognizable...and what are the chances of this ever happening again, so you'll have to take my word for it. That'll teach me to go anywhere without my camera.

My Mother, before my Father came along, had a boyfriend who gave her a seahorse. A real, tiny, once alive seahorse, suspended in a resin mould as a gift. What a gift. Did he know that seahorses are monogamous and mate for life? Poor thing, it never worked out.

The seahorse looks delicate and slightly shocked. I used to love it when I was young and I've since taken it to my apartment where it now lives atop my bookcase. Thinking of it now, it seems strange I don't think of it everyday, this sea creature stolen and encased in a plastic tomb, sharing my home. How far away and alone it would feel if it could and were alive. I shall give you more notice oh little horsey of the sea.

For my last birthday, my boyfriend at the time wanted to buy me a bluetooth. And while I can certainly appreciate hands free talking, somehow I feel that gift giving has gone downhill. Truth be told I'd be horrified to receive a dead sea creature, but wouldn't turn my head at say, something glittery and pretty like this...

How awesome are drinking glasses from the '70's...?!
I'd say very. I'm always tempted at goodwill and garage sales to take them home. If only I had room.
Here is my favorite picture from this summer. A canoe, a lake, a sunset, a dock, while looking through a green warbley moulded glass. I loved this glass so much, even before the very stiff margarita was in it, that I almost took it home with me from the cottage we had rented. Settle down, I didn't.

But how much could the owners have loved it if they kept it at their rented out cottage?!

warm fuzzy goodness

Is there anything better than this poem?

To those of you unfortunate enough to not really know...this is a perfectly true description.

Ode To my Socks
-Pablo Neruda-

Mara Mori brought me
a pair of socks
which she knitted herself
with her shepherd's hands
two socks as soft as rabbits.
I slipped my feet into them
as if into jewel cases
knitted with threads of twilight and goatskin.

Audacious socks,
my feet became two woolen fish,
two long sharks of lapis blue shot through
by one golden thread,
two mammoth blackbirds,
two cannons,
thus honored were my feet
by these celestial socks.
They were so handsome that for the first time
my feet seemed unacceptable to me
two decrepit firemen,
unworthy of the woven fire
of those luminous socks.

Nevertheless, I resisted the sharp temptation
to save them the way schoolboys
bottle fireflies,
the way scholars hoard
sacred documents.
I resisted the mad impulse to put them
in a golden cage and daily feed them
birdseed and pieces of pink melon.
Like explorers in the jungle
who hand over the very rare green deer
to the spit and eat it with remorse,
I stretched out my feet and pulled on
the magnificent socks and then my shoes.

The moral of my ode is this:
beauty is twice beauty
and what is good is doubly good
when it is a matter of two socks
made of wool in winter.


(translation by Robert Bly and Margaret Sayers Peden)

These are some socks I am currently working on...

I have strong feelings for the Ocean. I was recently by the sea and each time I was in I became poetic and dramatic. It was involuntary...I was so overcome with the Enormousness of the sea.

FASCINATING INFORMATION
There is more sea than land
Ocean Tides are partly caused by the moon
The ocean can kill you with its bare watery hands

Much to the horror of my friend, I was found saying things like, 'Great swelling sea beast, we see your power', and 'Respect the Ocean!' and 'Rolling, Toiling Creature of Sea' and when I felt a rip tide or was surrounded by seaweed, 'It wants us to join, it wants to swallow us whole...we just want to visit, Oh Sea'. This happened every time I went into the ocean. Every time. I was reminded of the book The Shipping News and the Film The Whale Rider.

On the last night of the vacation we went to the boardwalk and after a few glasses of wine I announced that I wanted to go right up to the water. I went alone because my friends didn't want to get sand in their shoes. No judgements and I dearly love my friends, but I was utterly flabbergasted that they were perfectly happy looking at the ocean from a distance. OK, sure, I didn't expect them to want to roll in the sand like I did, but how can you resist the sea? Luckily I was alone because more babbling of poetic declarations ensued. The full moon peaked from the clouds and the tide was high and I was overcome with the forces.