Eensy Weensy Enduro Bike

Oh my gosh, is this not the cutest lil’ thing?! In case you’re wondering, yes – it’s missing the seat. Yes – it’s missing the gauges at the front. And No – it’s not highway legal (100cc’s….that’s incredibly paltry as far as cc’s go).

It’s a Yamaha 100 Enduro sport bike. I sat on it and it’s acceptable to my dainty 30″ inseam, as well as the fact that my weak, bony, chicken arms are able to hold it up. Which is a biggie. I’ve had my eye on a Suzuki Boulevard  for many years, but for me, the bike is so heavy. At least this one doesn’t weigh anything.

That being said, I’m not married to keeping it. It clearly needs work, and while parts are plentiful, it seems, I also don’t know how much of an investment this will be. If it’s too much I’ll just have to let ‘er go.

The best part is that it’s ORANGE. ORANGE, BABY!!!



I get irrationally fearful when I start feeling tired. Last year, starting to feel tired for no reason meant that I was going on a down slide. One that there was no way of preventing, or even slowing down. Like clockwork I would start feeling tired. Then I’d get really grumpy about nothingness in daily life which benefitted precisely no one. All that trickled down to laying awake in bed for hours, feeling a knot of fear about life at large, and unable to calm down.

Life was just super last year. I don’t know why I didn’t really realize it at the time, but I didn’t seem to. Like, I knew that things were not going well, but I don’t know if I really understood the full extent at the time. I kept brushing my feelings off, saying I couldn’t possibly be that bad, because x, y, and z hadn’t been planned out yet, so I couldn’t make an exit. Or that I still had “lots of time” because something I wanted to do before…you know, before…and it was going to take a lot of time.

It’s weird, you know, thinking of all that now. At the time I sometimes felt like I was being lazy because I couldn’t get it together to be done before. Or I kept putting it off. Something kept coming up that I’d have to push the invisible line forward to something else.

Maybe that’s what ended up saving me in the end. The “laziness”. Now, that I’m better I understand how close things got. No one in their right mind would have such a detailed exit plan, outside of someone needing to escape domestic abuse. Someone desperate to survive, except that I was on the opposite side of that coin.

Im not ready to say the word yet. It’s a little bit too raw, still, only a couple months out.

i am tired today. That’s because I had too much Dr pepper before bed and didn’t get a good sleep. I’m still worried.

Master ensuite update

Over the long weekend we had, Beard got himself a little bit bored. It happens, it’s kind of our thing over here, at Chateau Poire.

He decided to remedy that with some paint in our ensuite bathroom.

I feel like I need to inject some Canadian trivia here for a minute. So, what is the deal with the whole washroom/bathroom thing? We are raised here, in the Great White North, that if you can bathe in the room, it is a bathroom (this includes rooms with a shower). If it does not contain more than a toilet and sink, it is a washroom. Isn’t Canada fun?


Before, in grey, to match our master bedroom.

Our master bedroom (that’s the same), the walls are two shades of grey. Two shades of grey, each wall different from the one beside it…get it? Anyhow, we took the most leftover paint from the whole ordeal and painted the walls in the ensuite to be the same. The darker of the two greys. You might think it was painfully dark in there, but with white tiling and a white tub, it really wasn’t.


During, grey seeping through the yellow

I love bright, saturated colours. In my mind, there is nothing better, nor can you convince me a room is too small to be painted boldly. It’s not that I disagree with this, however, I believe that you can lighten things up a bit when you add towels, or pictures or what have you. It also fits nicely into the “nothing matches” scheme in the house, too. Rarely am I afforded such luxuries, and the only paint that I have secured that is bright and lovely-awful (jolie-laide)  green washroom on our main level. An eyesore compared with the rest of the house (and I love it).

I was not all that happy with the initial first coat. It looked positively horrific. I kept telling myself you’ll get used to it, you’ll get used to it, all the while absolutely loathing this faux-sunshine colour. I even went in there to attempt to help (I actually can paint very well if I put my  mind to it!), threw on my iPod with all my spectacular old school mix and went to work cutting in. I don’t know if it changed my mind much, but at least I wasn’t sitting around and angrily looking at it.



Do you see what I see? It’s all Beard can see.

When it dried? Well, that’s a different story. No more lines could be seen through the paint, everything finally matched and it looks amazing. Yeah, it’s incredibly bright. Like, if you can’t handle daylight you probably couldn’t handle spending a lot of time in this bathroom.

Before this escapade, the shower rod had turned a lovely, rusty old silver colour. Fake chrome an’ all that. It was our jam when this particular room was steely and cold (and, honestly, I loved it too). Enter Plasti-dip. Plasti-dip is our new jam. any time anything needs painting, we hit up the Plasti-Dip area. Now that it comes in real colours, I’m beyond stoked. This is just your regular, flat, black colour. The thing I like about this is that it doesn’t chip or go rusty. And when we don’t like it any more – you peel it off and start again.

So, that’s that.


Burning man

Burning Man

Photo: Andy Barron, Reno Gazette-Journal, via USA Today

So I’ve been living under a rock for a million years, apparently, because I’ve only just learned what Burning Man is. I know, right? I’m insanely embarrassed to be writing this, let alone telling someone to their face.

Looking at all the photos and accounts of people hitting up Burning Man, I’m oddly attracted to this outdoor free for all of love and oddities. I love the oddities. The girls barely dressed, the guys in full body paint in thongs, the monstrously sized sculptures set up – outside of the Man itself. I love the organized chaos of it all. I love the freak flags flying high and unabashed.

It’s something I seriously would like to do before I die. I ran this past Beard and he seemed up for it, which surprised me. He’s pretty white-bread. I’m a bit weird for him, and compared to the goings on at Burning Man, I’m very, very ordinary. My idea of being bizarre is getting my boho on with all the jewelry, the denim shorts and flowing tops. Don’t get me wrong, the pictures of people I’ve seen have me going a little “whoa” but to each their own, really. I’d be judged as free-spirit-lite there, but at home it’s different, right?

I think think it’s so appealing because where I live is extremely white bread Canada. Especially in my borough, we have very little diversity. Unless it’s done behind closed doors, I suppose. But people don’t do stuff out in the open that could be possibly construed as “weird”. It often leaves me feeling quite alone, as I would qualify, here, as a bit weird : yet no one else seems to be.

One of my favourite things is to read people’s accounts of their Burning Man attendances, and what it made them learn afterward. How it changed them and made them better/different/what have you.

And I love that.

2015 is probably a bit soon for us to make actual plans to go…maybe in a couple of years.

Found Something For Lent!

Okay, so, remember how I didn’t think there was much I needed to work on for Lent this year? Well, it seems the Powers That Be decided for me.

The company I’m currently with for internet has decided to start charging for overages in their usage, starting March 30, 2015. At first I scoffed at it because any time I had previously checked, we were well below the limit set. Well…not the last couple of months. In fact, over the course of December, we almost doubled the amount of usage in our overage. I can attribute it to one thing – Netflix. We watch a LOT of Netflix.

I also play on the computer quite a bit.

And I do online shopping.

And I look at stuff very frequently on my iPad.

My iPhone is hooked up to wifi 90% of the time.

The Beard also has wifi on his iPad and iPhone, and he uses those a lot.

Since we’ve got roughly six weeks until the overage charging starts to happen, we’ve decided to make a real effort in reducing how much we watch/play. It’s not that we can’t watch stuff on Netflix, but we’re definitely going to drop the quality of the output (no more HD/Ultra HD), and make a conscious effort into not internet multitasking (no playing iPads with wifi while watching Netflix!). When we were talking about it, we’re going to drastically reduce what we’re using, use that as a new baseline for what we’ll be able to do the next month – if that makes sense? Like if we can reduce our usage, when we’re really trying, and bring it down to only using 50% of our allotted data for the month, we then know that we could maybe watch a couple of more shows on Netflix instead of only two a day (or whatever).

So. If this experiment doesn’t work, and that even after we’re putting an effort in on our usage and scaling back (and reading BOOKS, the horror), and we’re still hitting at around 90+%, then I might just have to bite the bullet and pay the extra $8 a month for more space. Sigh.

For those interested, we get 150GB of usage a month, and yes, we go over it. I can only currently go back 2 months, but I’m sure if I go back further I’d see that we were over as well. I know it was really bad over Christmas because everyone was home and we were just doing what we do and binge watching.

Being in the Veg*n Olympics

image from here.

I briefly touched on this last time I posted about veg*n life, about the online communities and how people can be so damned judgemental. Since I posted that, I’ve actually left a group and blocked my ability to return to it, because of an increasing number of what I like to refer to as the Veg*n Olympians. There are these kind of people in anything that you tend to in life. There are the moms who seem like they’re entire existence is to out-mom everyone else. The car people who don’t think you’re “real” enough if you haven’t rebuilt an entire engine from scratch.  There’s possibly even that person at work who perhaps comes off as a bit of a keener and it seems like that is their soul reason for living.

Generally I try to cut these people some slack (and, as a human, there are many times I fail terribly, miserably at giving them grace) and give them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe that mom had a bad childhood and is trying to ensure her children don’t experience, maybe that car person just went through a hard time and rebuilding that engine pulled them through. Maybe that work person is incredibly lonely and work’s the only place they find value in their lives. We don’t know, we don’t have to know, and we also don’t need to perpetuate an irritated day because of it.

That being said, I do believe there are times that, when you can, you just need to put some distance between yourself and that other person/people and live parallel and perhaps not intersect too often.

This brings me back to the Veg*n Olympians. Like every where else, there are some people who are up so high on their horses that the air is perhaps a bit thin and they’re having trouble with the compassion side of life. I don’t believe that we necessarily need to have other people hold us accountable for every little thing in our lives, but it does help when you’re attempting a big transition in your life. However, the balance between having a helping hand and having someone who’s ready to condemn can be extremely thin and a bit too flexible. Which is where the internet can be really, really discouraging. If you’re a parent and ready any of the trillion and a half mommy blogs out there, you probably know what I’m talking about to some degree (which is why I tend to avoid them like the plague).

It is not wrong to have people to look up to. I feel like you need to be incredibly selective, however, when it comes to this. What works in one person’s life is not going to always work for your life: you shouldn’t be altering your life so drastically to fit into someone else’s mould. And to remember that they, too, are fallible humans!

All that being said, after being driven up the wall with people competing with one another in their own, self-proclaimed Veg*n Olympics, I threw up my hand, unsubscribed, blocked and disallowed re-entry into a group that I had enjoyed. Yes, I suppose I could have stayed to perhaps be a slightly more positive voice in the crowd, but I feel 100% unprepared for that.

It was not many days later that in my Instagram feed, this quote came up.

There is no such thing as a certified vegan. If you’re looking for perfection and purity in yourself and others, then you’ll be gravely disappointed. Being vegan is a means to an end — not the end itself.

–Colleen Patrick-Goudreau

It was a breath of fresh air, honestly. I felt like I had been struggling for days, and feeling like I wasn’t ever going to get the hang of this. All it did was sort of reaffirmed something I tend to do in real life: I love people, I try to be compassionate to them, and I depend on them occasionally, but I don’t hold people up on  pedestal. I am very aware that people are people and they are not perfect and that’s okay.

Reminder to self: no one’s perfect. I’m not perfect, I’m not ever going to be. I just have to make an attempt and remember to be compassionate!


Normally I give something up for Lent, but given that I’m super behind these days with the whole Googling everything, I didn’t realize it was going to start…YESTERDAY. Whoops.

See, I was going to have several posts lined up, forty in fact, of random factoid dealies, while I set my sails and went for the horizon offline. Clearly, that happened. I wasn’t giving the internet up for Lent, I just thought it’d be a decent space filler for the time being. Oh well.

I don’t even feel like I have anything to dump for Lent anyway. And no, I don’t exactly do it because of the spiritual repercussions it’s supposed to have, but sometimes I like a bit of a reset to clean up the ol’ life.

Maybe for late-Lent, I can finally gain control (hahahah!) over the semi-disaster that the living room gets into. Having children and all that. Maybe we’ll take Lent to instill a reason to tidy up after ourselves. And learn about the human body.

Trying New Food: Almond Butter


This was before I re-organized my pantry (it was desperately needed).

People who know a love me know that I’m not exactly a big fan of peanut butter. I don’t know why, it doesn’t make my mouth itch, it doesn’t bother my stomach, it doesn’t really do anything to me. Or for me, for that matter. On a whim I decided to give the almond butter a try.

Well. That’s that. I wish I would have tried it out earlier, because I actually DO like almond butter! I like it slathered on toast with cut up strawberries.


What Kids Eat

I spent a lot of time thinking up what this should be called, but all of my creativity these days is being tapped into crochet, so you’re left with the ultra creative, but very informative, what kids eat.


Macaroni and “cheese”, vegan dish.



Chicken, mashed potatoes/cauliflower, green beans, vegetable gravy

Naturally, they ate more than this over the course of the week, but these are the only ones that I remembered to take pictures of.

Date Night


On Friday we decided we should do this date night up right nice, so we headed out to a new restaurant in town (parking, terrible. Food, pretty decent) and then we hit up the local adult store*. After that, we still had many hours to kill since the children were having a sleepover at grandma and grandpa’s house. I decided to go to the pottery place and paint some mugs. Well. Beard painted a mug, I painted a spoon rest.

The spoon rest is kind of tee-hee, because I’ve never had one, but I was thinking I should probably get one since I’ve been cooking more wet things lately, and have been making one heck of a mess all over the counter. Which, honestly, if I clean it up right away it’s not a big deal at all, but it sometimes falls down between the stove and the cupboard and it is a big deal to clean up. At least in a spoon rest, it’s way more contained. And pretty.

*Okay, this store. It’s been sort of a point of contention amongst the borough where we live. Originally, many moons ago, we decided to check it out so we could have a cheap laugh on the way to the movies. We’d been in adult stores before, and they are always kind of funny – especially with those [mother, shield your eyes] absolutely enormous, 4 foot tall dildos and really, truly awful movies. So we go in, chuckling to ourselves, and we were immediately let down. There was nothing funny, gross, weird, or bizarre about this shop. It was incredibly clean, well lit, organized nicely. It felt more like going to a book store than an adult store. That meant we felt bad going to it for a laugh, because there simply was nothing to laugh at!

Further, I don’t want to mention the name of it because I don’t want people to get the wrong idea, or think that I’m shilling for them, because I’m not. If it’s THAT important, and you live in Calgary, you can email me and I will tell you. Honest to goodness, I’m really embarrassed to say that I’ve been to the adult store on Macleod Trail by Anderson (you know the one) because that one is that kind where you can go in for a laugh.


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