In my previous post on the subject "Trial and Error: Vegetable Edition", I talked about how I am learning how to garden with help from The Zero-Mile Diet by Carolyn Herriot. I thought that I would do a follow-up blog post so that readers can see the results of my toil.
The results were mixed at best. To be fair to Herriot, I have not yet totally followed her gardening advice for an entire year, and gone rogue several times due to my own impatience. Clover has taken over my vegetable patch due to the lack of nitrogen in the soil, and this is a battle that I don't want to wage. I also used a very ad hoc planting plan (and the robins played a part too) so my seeds grew all over the place, rather than in tidy rows. Several veggies cropped up which I cannot identify (pictured below), and the phrase that I would use to describe it is "what the?" rather than "wow".This being said, I enjoyed some level of success with my tomatoes, rhubarb, Romaine lettuce, and apple tree and they made their way to the dinner table.
Generally, my success in the garden is more consistent in the flower beds. Luckily, one of the former owners of our house was a gardener by trade, and we inherited some stunning roses and lilacs. The roses take very little effort on my part, just pruning off the dead after a flower is finished blooming, but look beautiful. Our lilac trees caused me some anxiety due to the fact that our trees are late-bloomers which only began flowering a few months after every other lilac tree in the neighbourhood. I thought that maybe they were having an off year, or that my pruning skills were lacking. Then suddenly there appeared these beautiful blooms in a very vivid purple (see below).
I am currently on vacation trying to get caught up on my household projects, and I wanted to tackle one of the borders around our yard. I neglected this pitiful strip for some time because I had no concrete plan for what I wanted to plant there, and no time to put in the research. Now that I was away from work, I looked into different shrubs and settled on hydrangeas. Though Madonna may not like them, they seem to do well around the neighbourhood and the last thing that I wanted to be was the one house on the block with an overgrown garden.
I tackled the project with gusto, enjoying the possibility that this patch would no longer be a nagging reminder of my failings. After I began a preliminary hatchet job on the existing grasses and random perennials, one of my neighbours stopped to ask me what I was up to. I told her about my project, and she said that she admired my courage, admitting that she would have called a gardener to handle it. This comment chipped away at the confidence instilled in me at the Canadian Tire Garden Centre, and I enlisted the help of my boyfriend to mow down the whole bed. Fortunately he has little regard for his lawnmower, and agreed to aid me in the digging despite our understanding that gardening is my domain.
Now that the project is finished and the hydrangeas have been planted, I feel a lot better and look forward to dealing with some other problem areas, including my so so vegetable garden. If nothing else, I know what not to do.
I bought The Bishop's Man by Linden MacIntyre about two years back with every intention of reading it quickly. It had a good combination of critical acclaim and my sister's stamp of approval, but I haven't managed to read it until now. Instead, it was one of those novels that you think about in the back of your mind, and eventually get around to. Happily, this book lived up to the hype. It is written by journalist Linden MacIntyre, best known for the CBC television show the fifth estate. I had seen a special that MacIntyre hosted which drew upon the subject matter discussed in the book, and I found myself both repulsed and intrigued.
Though this book is fairly well-known, I will give a brief sketch of the plot. The story is set in Cape Breton in the early 1990s and the main character is Father Duncan MacAskill, a priest charged with the task of helping his bishop cover up allegations of child molestation. His detached, cool-headed approach to this job belies the toll that it takes on him emotionally, and results in a gradual unravelling throughout the narrative. Due to this role as the bishop's man, MacAskill faces a great deal of isolation, and this is one of the most profound elements of the novel. MacAskill experiences a separation between himself and his flock which is attributed to the respect that people have for his role. Additionally, he cannot have candid conversations with fellow priests due to their distrust of his closeness with the bishop.
The novel centres around the struggles that MacAskill faces, and I found his inner turmoil to be the most fascinating aspect of the story. I respond to him as a character because he is a flawed individual, with his own chequered past and temptations, rather than a sterling crusader. His growing isolation and distaste for the tasks that the bishop gives him, present an interesting portrait. Though blog entries don't really lend themselves to a more detailed breakdown of the plot (I don't want to give it away), I will say that I am leaving a lot of meaty plotlines out of this post and that this novel is more rich than these few paragraphs can convey.
I would heartily recommend that readers take this brief sketch as an appetizer to a larger tale. It's subject matter may not be the ideal summer read for some, but the inner angst of the main character really draws you into the story and has its own rewards.
Usually when I choose a book to read, I pick a title that has been in the back of my mind for awhile, or I decide on a novel from a specific genre. This time around I had a yen for a historical novel of a shorter length. I recently bought The Mistress of Nothing by Kate Pullinger from a book sale and thought that this would fit the bill. Also, for lack of knowledge about the author and the critical reviews, the fact that this book won a Governor General's Literary Award swayed my opinion.
The premise of the book also presented itself as a lure from the first time that I read the short caption on the back cover. The Mistress of Nothing takes place in 1865, and begins in the household of Lady Duff Gordon, a well-connected socialite who makes the heart wrenching decision to travel to Egypt to alleviate her serious health problems. The story is told through the eyes of Gordon's private ladies maid, Sally Naldrett who accompanies her. Both are seasoned, having previously sailed to South Africa on another mission to make a positive difference in Gordon's health. As such, Sally and her mistress do take on the climatic and cultural adjustments with an enthusiasm that more sheltered females of their station would not possess. They adopt Egyptian dress, learn Arabic and live within the Egyptian community rather than just staying within the European quarter of Cairo or Alexandria.
Their ability to integrate into local society is aided by their servant, Omar Haleweh, who joins them in Cairo and provides a go-between in their interactions with Egyptians. Omar becomes indispensable to them, and becomes very dear to both ladies, as they journey the Nile and settle in Luxor (aka Thebes). This closeness with Omar causes events to unfold in a way that Sally never expected, and reveals the true nature of her relationship with her mistress. As a faithful maid and the sole female companion for Lady Duff Gordon, Sally felt that the boundaries that normally exist between servants and their employers had eroded. When her story takes a twist (which I will not reveal), Sally is brought to the realization that those distinctions were very much in place.
This story is based upon the real-life story of Lady Duff Gordon as told through her book, Letters from Egypt. I think that her story is worth telling and, in my opinion, she is the most fascinating character in the book. Though I don't think that Pullinger's prose style is all that poetic in nature with memorable lines which stop you in your tracks, she is a gifted storyteller and that is more the strength of this book. She also does not romanticize Sally's situation in a manner that other authors would be tempted to and I found this touch to be refreshing. The tension between the characters rang true when I try to envision what actually may have taken place. Overall I am pleased that I decided to pull this book off my shelf and it provided me with an interesting look into a unique personal history and a snapshot of Egyptian life.
I was listening to a radio program about two months ago which was about the controversy surrounding the Bachelor/Bachelorette television franchises. Two would-be contestants on the Bachelorette were suing the producers of the show, claiming that they were rejected due to the fact that they were both African American. The media expert brought in by the radio show to discuss this issue was Jennifer Pozner, a media critic with the group Women In Media & News.
I was so interested with what she had to say on this concept of racism in reality show casting, that I ended up reading her book, Reality Bites Back. In it, she describes how, if one were an alien who just had reality television as a frame of reference, they would be under the impression that the women's rights movement, the civil rights movement and the gay rights movements had never taken place. This skewed casting towards heterosexual, Caucasian woman and men is a staple of the Bachelor/Bachelorette franchises, and Pozner argues that this is to pander to a specific audience. In other words, these decisions are driven by advertisers, who want to reach a suburban, mainly white, demographic. Unfortunately for those minorities who are lucky enough to be cast, they usually are cut in the first few episodes of these dating shows.
Cast members are not exclusively chosen because of their ethnic background/marketability. Appearance plays a huge role as well. With the inevitable hot tubs scenes which are par for the course, the average woman would have difficulty meeting the producers' requirements, unless they are genetically/surgically blessed. Another aspect of these dating shows that has always riled me up is that the women who try out for these shows will often put their own lives and careers on the backburner, agreeing to relocate for true love. Not many women in the real world would consent to leave their jobs, family, friends, etc. for someone that they met a few weeks ago. Knowing full well the poor track record for real romance that dating show alumni face when the cameras turn off, I would be even more inclined to keep my day job.
Pozner does address issues beyond the controversy about dating shows including issues of female stereotyping, virulent amounts of product placement, and manipulative practices which erode whatever "reality" is left in these types of programs. Though I was aware of how producers tend to cast people (mostly women) to type in reality shows, with the staples being whiny, bitchy, or sugary sweet girl-next-door types which pervade shows like America's Next Top Model and the like, there is more to it. The extent to ehich producers will go to get juicy confessional soundbites from contestants is really deplorable. Seeing as these are real people and not SAG actors, they don't have the same labour laws protecting them. Thus coercion, lack of sleep, etc. are all fair game. One particularly disturbing practice is that of "frankenbiting" where a contestant's words are chopped up and remixed into a totally different sentence, which is then dubbed as a voiceover. This way they avoid the clips where lips are moving, but different words are coming out, Japanese film style.
I could continue on for a long time about this book because it is a fascinating read which is incredibly topical and worthwhile for the average reality tv show consumer to read. The concepts she puts forward definitely will make me a more critical viewer of some of my favourite guilty pleasures.
Speaking of which, I have included a link to a YouTube video that Pozner mentions in her book. It is a speculative piece which poses the question of what would happen if Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Edward Cullen of Twilight met.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RZwM3GvaTRM
My grandmother has a huge collection of books. Being a ninety-one year old woman who has subscribed to the book-of-the-month club for decades, her basement is filled with books. She moved to a nursing home after Christmas, which left her family to deal with her possessions. We were perusing her book collection when I came across The Game by Ken Dryden, a rare title owned by my grandfather.This find is no surprise to me, seeing as my grandfather was a huge hockey fan and my grandmother continues to listen to every Canuck game on the radio from her nursing home bed. The Game was also recently featured on the latest instalment of Canada Reads, and my interest was piqued by Allan Thicke's passionate defence of its merits. So with an enthusiasm which usually borderlines on crassness, I pounced on it.
The background behind this book is very important. At this point in time, Ken Dryden is a washed-up (in his eyes) goalie for the storied Montreal Canadians dynasty of the 1970s. At only thirty years of age and with a handful of Stanley Cups under his belt, he is ready to retire and pursue a career as a lawyer. The Game is a collection of his thoughts on hockey, character sketches of his team mates, and a fascinating insight into the life of a hockey player. As he writes, there are a number of sweeping ideological changes in Quebec society and the rise of the Soviets as a threat in international tournaments. As a celebrity Anglophone in Quebec during the Quiet Revolution, he is in a unique position where he is within the action, and yet somewhat psychologically removed. There is one memorable passage where he describes walking down the street to the forum with tanks rolling down the street past him. He remarks that at the time he didn't think too much about it because he was new to the province and assumed it was routine.
His analysis of the Soviet game and certain key hockey players is a key highlight of the book. Dryden delves into the old practices of the Soviets and how they have adapted their offensive style to combat the Canadian approach. He hopes that Canada will make the necessary evolution so that our nation can keep up with them, but is not entirely optimistic. Though his thoughts on the Soviet hockey style are interesting, I was most captivated by his sketches of key players of his era. Though I am familiar with both Bobby Orr and Phil Esposito, Dryden outlines their impact on the game. He informs us about how Orr created the role of the "offensive defenseman", the first player to use his speed to join the rush rather than hanging back as forwards assume the lion's share of the goal-scoring responsibilities. Esposito is another fascinating figure. In modern hockey, the practice of going to the front of the opposition's net and hoping that a deflection will go off a player's stick, is extremely commonplace and most analysts advocate it. Go to the front of the net, agitate the goalie/defenseman, and maybe score a dirty looking goal. This strategy was first employed by Esposito, and he was extremely successful at it, though at the time it was dismissed.
I could go on and on about the colourful characters and the great insights which Ken Dryden provides into the game of hockey. His is a unique perspective and he articulates it brilliantly, making this book required reading for any hockey fan. Even Maple Leafs fans who will have to overcome their natural distrust of a former Montreal Canadian. Dryden is, after all, from Toronto.
During the winter my boyfriend and I purchased our first house together and the prospect of being a homeowner is a daunting enterprise. Though we've been in our house for six months now, there are constant challenges and any romantic notions that I had went out the window very quickly. The problems that crop up are none that HGTV prepared me for. There were none of those magical makeover moments, nor did those scary Holmes on Holmes issues come to light (knock on wood). Instead we found ourselves replacing gutters and fantasizing about a life which might include an on-demand hot water heater.
One of the elements of owning a house of which I was completely ignorant of was the overhauling and maintenance of a garden. As an apartment dweller for most of my life, I never had the need to learn anything about taking care of a garden, and my past as an indoor plant serial killer made my chances of success doubtful at best. Still I approached this challenge with gusto, and did the only thing I knew what to do when confronted by my own lack of knowledge, research. I bought The Zero-Mile Diet by Carolyn Herriot and used it as my guide to planting a respectable vegetable garden which might bring about something edible.
The book is structured like a calendar and I found this approach to be very helpful. For each month, there are different topics and instructions of what you should be doing to prepare, plant or harvest your garden. Particularly being from the West Coast where temperatures are much different than those of other parts of the country, I was happy to find a resource which has advice that corresponds to our unique climate. Although I think that the advice could be applied to other areas if one were to shift the calendar two months or so forward. The tidbits of advice which Herriot gives throughout the book are clear and very practical, and I can easily envision myself carrying out some of her tips as I become more confident of my abilities.
At this point I am doing the gardening equivalent of throwing a bunch of things against the wall and hoping that something sticks. If anything grows, I will consider it to be a victory and with The Zero-Mile Diet, I feel that I have a better chance.
I have many books in my past, good books, which I failed to finish for one reason or another. These books haunt me every time I go to my shelves to pick out my reading material. Above all others, The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen, and my inability to read it cover to cover, bothered me more than any other botched attempt. My tastes are fickle with little logic behind my decisions to read or give up and move on.
When embarking on a recent vacation to a destination with no phone reception, internet or cable, I chose to finally go back to this spurned novel and give it another chance. This time around, the book was equally as gripping and my understanding of the characters only deepened with my more mature perspective (such as it is). The plot revolves around a family who are about to spend their last Christmas together in their family home in the heart of the American Midwest. Leading up to this holiday, each character muses how, for different reasons, they are dreading the holiday and the inevitable confrontation it will entail. There are three grown children in this family, Chip, an overindulged former academic, Denise, a brilliant chef with a weakness for married men, and Gary, the depressed dictator of the Lambert brood. These siblings, each with their own serious issues, come together (or butt heads) while trying to deal with their father's ailing health and their mother's denial.
It is this story about the Lambert patriarch's broken body and deteriorating mind,that drives the narrative and provides relevant insights. Though the book was written over a decade ago, the plot of grown children looking after their aging parents and having to make tough choices, is even more topical today with the Baby Boomer generation heading into their golden years. I thought that Franzen's treatment of the dilemma's facing the siblings had a realism which struck a chord with me, though I felt that their dysfunctional lives were a little over the top. Another theme that appeared throughout the book, was the complex relationship that the characters had with pharmaceuticals. At the time that the book was written, the concept of people medicating their way out of their problems was new and this theme is played out in the lives of different characters spanning across both generations.
Although I have pointed out these two themes as being particularly strong, there is a lot of depth to this novel and it really presents a thorough snapshot of American life in the late nineties. With the constraints of a short blog entry, I sometimes worry about not doing justice to a book which is vast in scope, and this book in particular presents challenges to this medium. After all these years of sitting on my shelf and eliciting feelings of guilt, I am glad that I finally picked this book up again, and took an unexpectedly great journey.
