creative, but not with taffeta or truffles...

Ah, the luxury of time. I've been off for a week of Carnival (a.k.a. mid-winter break), and have actually been very busy without leaving the house. I'm back to my "Becky-home-eckie" routine of cooking, baking, sewing, refinishing furniture and claiming domestic bliss on a budget...

It all came from reading a book at the same time as seeing a movie of the same story. Last Saturday afternoon, M the boys and I went to see the latest Bill Murray film called "The City of Ember" (La ville du l'ombre en francais) about a post-apocalyptic town underground that is past its best-before date...the city is dying, the supplies are running out and the generator has seen its best 200 years ago. Everyone is in patched clothing, reclaimed yarn sweaters, eating varieties of potato dishes and making do with pencil stubs, paper flattened from soup can labels and wondering when the lights will go out for good. The 12 year old heroine discovers the "instructions for egress" in tatters and she with the help of a friend find the way out to the surface. The book (of course) was better, but the movie was stunning in its cinematography and accuracy to the essence of the original story. Bill Murray was creepy as the villain, and having watched his career over the decades, has certainly done only films that he wants and will give him a chance to portray a variety of characters...in this one, think "Ground-hog day" meets "Lost in Translation"...

So back to the "living like its the depression" theme of this blog entry and my holiday:

What embarrasses me about my life-partner? No, its not his speedo or the ear-hair length contest he's having with himself--its his penchant for brocantes (yard sales) and gleefully pausing on Tuesday nights outside large piles of garbage... picking through for the diamonds among the nuggets...but this time I have to bow at the foot of the sensai. M found three really (no, I mean REALLY) dirty and broken down chairs of which he saw alone the potential--being Danish Modern. They only needed new seat covers, foam and some waxing and "wham-O!" 17 Euros later for supplies, we are the proud owners of three new chairs that have new black "leather" padded seats, polished bentwood backs and a new lease on life. They match perfectly with our other chairs as well (who have the same colours, but in reverse--black backs and legs, wood seats). I owe him an apology: I scoffed and walked away from them, and he wouldn't let me..they came home and now I welcome them since they're actually more comfortable than our originals (that I bought). If you recall, this is M's third success: the other two being the mirror and his lamp find...check out his blog history for more on those!

To continue on the patch-and-repair theme, D also is the beneficiary of 6 pairs of jeans snatched back from the goodwill bin by patching, stitching and fusing over the knees for just a few more months until the shorts come out of the bottom drawer. He's so hard on clothes: if it isn't chewing the cuffs of his shirts, its "break dancing" on cement or practicing his slide to third base through gravel. I hope he grows out of this, it costs me a lot in thread and time.

Ah, but the frugality isn't over: the sewing machine isn't just for mending, as I've been excited to sew again and all while learning more French...there's no greater incentive than a fab pattern in a french fashion magazine to get me to crack open the translation dictionary and fabric stash at the same time. The results this week have been a box-pleated skirt (shin length, perfect for boot wearing, since its still the season in this part of Europe until May for boots and scarves--two essential Belgian fashion accessories) and a yummy cranberry-red Faux suede blouse that is half finished.

Now the kitchen hasn't been ignored in all this family studies renaissance: this week its been chocolate chip cookies and banana muffins from scratch, a meatloaf and a really hearty red pepper soup also without any boost from Knorr or Kraft. To top it all off, a decadent (not dirty-thirties version, though) pan of brownies that took 400 grams of chocolate (noir du noir Cote D'or) and six (yes, I said 6) eggs along with the requisite cup or so of flour and the same of sugar. Suffice it to say that the batch is very intense and we're slowly nibbling our way through it. This is the kind of brownie that actually NEEDS whipped cream to cut the richness...yikes for our cholesterol levels!



Ah, but one can't live by oat bran and water alone, right? I'm just doing my part to show Dalton, Steve, Barrack and the those world leaders who had stocks in the the World Bank of Scotland...making sure I am comfortable with my frugal side from student living still.

And on a related note as to why I've not blogged in a while--my computer time has been taken up with other more pressing activities: a six week online course on how to use interactive whiteboard presentation software--a serious challenge to my creative skills!

The weekend is almost upon us. I have marking still to do and the final assignments for this online course that has taken me four weeks so far. The main thing I've learned from this is that I am not very good as a virtual student. I either work too hard at the task/assignment or not enough without the support, encouragement and guidance of a real-live instructor and classmates. This course really put M out: most weeknights in the past month I've been glued to the computer creating interesting activities for maximizing this technology...now is it my company or his laptop that he misses the most? I dare not ask!

Ups and downs of family holidays

Ah, the Christmas break is half-over (or half begun, for you optimists) and I've come to some realizations about holidays with one's family and away from one's extended family.

Firstly, the blessings: that we can have a wonderful quiet holiday and feel fulfilled among ourselves without traveling, shlepping, winter driving or mountains of presents. The following picture is a daddy reading "Twas the Night Before Christmas" as the bed time story before Pere Noel came to visit:
This was the first year that M and I have had ever on our own and it was peaceful, calm and reflective. We even got a chance to go skating, as per our tradition whenever we've been at the lake--but this time at Place St. Catherine in the heart of Brussels--lovely.


Another blessing: that our children were able (for the most part) get along with each other AND share the jointly received toys with grace and patience--at least on Christmas day...

Yet another joy: that technology has advanced sufficiently to allow video conferencing and frequent inexpensive telephone calls with the ones we love, so that we weren't too isolated or isolatory for those who love us too.

And finally: that we've made a modest collection of friends here so that our yuletide celebrations were not just with the four of us--that we got out, shared glogg, had friends in and shared lots of laughs and good times.

Food this season has been luscious as well: Barbecued lobsters and champagne (thanks so much, JJ for that bottle of bubbly...) for our lucky 13th anniversary of our engagement on Christmas eve, decadent turkey with all the trimmings including Grandma's ginger shortbread on the day of our lord's birth and a suite of creative and delicious leftover recreations (Tandoori Turkey, anyone?) that are now over, regretfully.

But alas, there were also drawbacks. The first: giving gifts to little relatives without receiving the moist, spontaneous, enthusiastic hugs immediately after and later that day while engaging them in play with the new dumptruck or imagination-inducing object.

Another: that the symphony of competing conversations only possible with those who have only a few times a year to catch up, have exciting news (job/house/family changes) cannot be experienced virtually no matter how advanced a video camera and high-speed modem can get.

Yet a third: that those who are gaining in years who have fewer and fewer celebrating years to share truly miss us and our children...we pray we don't miss the chance to tell them in person how much they mean to us.

And regretfully, there are always the "hangovers" to suffer afterwards--not the alcoholic kind but the letdown from the euphoria kind of hangover...toys break, one's patience gets lost, the fridge needs cleaning out, waistbands don't fit, marking piles don't get any slimmer, report cards need to be written and children get bored with their own company without school friends to enjoy...I hate to say it, but I'm looking forward to going back to work, and I think M is looking forward to getting his routine of rehearsals, audition calls and the children out from underfoot.

Sigh. All good things do come to an end. Good night, Christmas and good morning New Year!

Mensa Word List: Hip Lash

What does one call the injuries one gets from an elevator that suddenly jerks or when an articulated bus (where one happens to be standing at the extreme rear) hits a pot hole with its last axle?


It's not whip lash, because the injury isn't to the neck or head, since the position one is in is standing: it affects the waist because one's knees are typically locked--according to me its called HIP LASH...ask me how I know! I'm sure this would qualify for the mensa word list (for example, Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period), as it's only a removal or insertion of one letter to create a new meaning of a word or phrase. Any other suggestions, wordies?

So back to the Hip Lash I incurred: Think of instant compression of the Thorasic-Lumbar directly into the saccral-coccix....yet my feet never actually left the "ground". Those of you who have traveled in a bus on cobblestones, particularly in front of the Royal Palace on the way to the European Commission Buildings will know EXACTLY what I experienced today...AARRRRGH!

Matthew and I were laughing and almost crying at the same time because it was so rediculous with our "bus surfing"! Due to the crowds, the boys were seated but the adults had long ago given up their seats to other transit riders, inspite of our Christmas packages. When this extra-long bus went around a corner Matthew and I became intimate in an instant way...not that I minded, but it was a public place, recall! I think the 1.60 Euro I spent was a better ride than any I've had in a carnival or fall fair...now if only it came with included padding and contraception?