Happy Halloween and other Festive Fall Endeavours

Yesterday morning, I had every intention to go to the driving range. Because this is the summer that I will not suck at golf. I have cute new shoes...









A cute new putter boot'e...




And of course, my trusty golf bag.









But the wind was whistling in the trees...
(or um, at least the one tree on our balcony).

And the weather network said it was very, very cold. Even though the driving range was open, and the heaters were on, I knew I'd still have to wear my winter coat and earmuffs and mitts and drink hot chocolate and that really didn't seem like something fun to do (except for the hot chocolate part).




So instead I stayed inside and celebrated the fall day by by making Pumpkin Halloween Cookies! Ta da!

Doesn't it just make you want to eat Halloween candy? Me too. Only I'm not that crazy -- I was really making the cookies for a photo shoot. Because this is what happens when you work in magazines -- you work months in advance. When it's the heat of summer, you eat Christmas cookies. At Thanksgiving you decorate Easter Eggs. When it snows you drink lemonade. And when it's just at the tip of spring, you make Halloween cookies.

Then, because a batch of pumpkin halloween cookies calls for like 1/2 a cup of pumpkin puree, and because I bought the largest tin of pumpkin puree I could find because I didn't actually read the amounts on the recipe before I went to the store, I decided to continue on the Fall Pumpkin Theme by making Pumpkin Muffins with Brown Sugar Crumble on Top. If you want to make these muffins, I found the recipe here.

I offered Hubs one. He took a bite. Then he ate two muffins. That's always a good sign because when my baking is not good, he only eats one, or says that he's getting fat, or is very, very full from the glass of juice he just drank and couldn't possible eat another bite at the moment. But he didn't do that. So I was very happy.

Then I made myself that mug of hot chocolate and enjoyed the rest of my Blustery Fall Day.

Cat and mouse

It's mice season. And no one can sleep. Even me, and I live on the 25th floor. Because I can still remember when I didn't...


This morning, I was in the middle fo reading Sarah Dessen's blog about mice today when my friend Fraidy Freida called to tell me she's freaking out. Last night, her cat was making a racket in the middle of the night, running around, knocking things over. And she couldn't sleep. She kept telling Noisy McKitty to keep it down but he wouldn't. Finally, she threw on the light and looked at the cat, who had trapped something under a pillow on the floor. When my friend lifted the pillow up, she screamed. There was a mouse. She didn't know what to do, so she grabbed a bucket (who has a bucket in their bedroom?) and put it over the mouse. She asked me, "How did it just die under the pillow, though?"
Me: "He wasn't dead. He probably just had stage fright."

Which freaked her out even more to know that she put an alive mouse outside.
She: So it's going to come back?
Me: Probably.

Then she told me that Noisy McKitty is staring at the space under the stove.



She: How long is he going to do this?
Me: (wondering when I became the cat and mouse expert) Until another mouse comes out probably. Cats are very patient. It could be days.

I know. Flash back to 2003. I lived on the main floor of an old house, but for some reason, there were mice in the ceiling. Mr. Baz discovered this one day, and for a few weeks straight in the summer of 2003, he sat on top of the fridge, staring at the ceiling, waiting for a mouse to fall from the sky. He was so preoccupied with his mission he didn't even want to eat and he wasn't drinking so that when he'd cry for the mouse to come out, it was more like a squeaky door opening. Finally I had to move his dishes up to the top of the fridge, just to make sure he kept his strength up. I'm not sure if he eventually caught a mouse or gave up, but later that summer he realized that going outside at night to catch the mice was a much more productive venture.

Day and night, he'd come and go, in and out of the house whenever he liked. When he wanted to come in, he'd jump up on the ledge of the window in the living room and stare me down until I went to the front door to let him in. And if it got too late, and I was in bed, he'd go around to the back of the house, climb up on the second storey window and look in at me sleeping, crying, until I let him in. Until one day he decided enough was enough. He was tired of waiting for me to let him in and out. So instead, he decided to gnaw a hole through the screen in the front window so he could let himself in and out. I was sure my landlord would be furious, but when I told him, he didn't care, so I decided if he wasn't upset then there was no reason for me to get upset with Mr. Baz either. In fact, the new system seemed to work out much better as I never had to call Mr. Baz in and didn't have to keep running back and forth to the door to let him in and out.

It even came in handy for other things. Like the day I left my coat at work because it was so warm out that I didn't want to wear or carry it home. Except, my keys were in my coat. And once I got home and realized this, I couldn't go back to work because by the time I took the half-hour subway ride back to the office, it would be too late to get into the building, so I did the only thing I could think of. I crawled through cat hole in the screen. It was a perfect system.

Until one morning when I woke up to find the head of a mouse head in Mr. Baz's food dish. The body was nowhere to be seen and I never did find it. If I had let Mr. Baz in through the front door, I'd have stopped the mouse from coming in with him, but because of the new cat hole, I had no control.

And then, a few nights later, I awoke to Mr. Baz licking my face. I opened my eyes and there, on my pillow, just inches from my head was a dead mouse.

After that, I kept the window closed until we moved. Since then, he hasn't caught any mice. The closest he comes are fallen leaves off the plants in the planter boxes on the balcony. It's not as exciting for Mr. Baz, but I'm sleeping much better.

Babies, babies, everywhere!

About a month ago, I blogged about three of my friends having their first babies within the same week - and they were all boys. And they all had the same name. Okay they didn't, but it would've been funnier if they did.

Then, last week I emailed my friend "Brooklyn" who lives in New York to see if we could get together when I'd be in the city. She said we could, but it would have to be in the exclusive St. Luke's Hospital, since she was having her baby the day I arrived and would be in the hospital for the remainder of my stay. Don't you just love a planned C-section? It's perfect! I'd know exactly where to find her and I could see her pre-baby, mid-baby or post-baby just by telling her what time I was arriving. So we made a plan (I opted for post-baby), only yesterday I got an email saying she had the baby already. But thankfully, he's perfectly healthy, just two weeks early. So I guess it just proves that you really can't plan everything, even in a day and age when you really can plan everything in life.

Of course, every time one of my friends has a baby, all the other pregnant friends email to ask how many hours the new mom was in labour. They all seem to have a theory that if Mom A pushed for 48 hours, then maybe Mom B is off the hook and will get a 10-minute push. I'm not sure it works that way, but for some reason everytime I report back about an easy labour, none of the pregnant moms-to-be seem very pleased, as though they've just been sentenced to The Worst Labour Term Ever: To Infinity and Beyond!

If this is your theory, though, then maybe you need to not ask me for a report because so far, every girl I know has had a fairly easy labour. (You know, as easy as it is to carry a watermelon around for ten months and then push it out.)



In other babies-in-the-making news, two more friends are pregnant, and today, my favourite teen author, Sarah Dessen, revealed a secret ! Congratulations, Sarah!

It must be something in the water. Or the watermelons. I was discussing this phenomenon of babies being made at an alarmingly fast pace with a friend today and asking her if she thought it was in the water. Or the watermelons.

No, she said. It's that you're 31.

Another Nancy Drew Mystery solved!


PS: my first review is in and it's a good one! Thanks to Lipstick Lolita at the new and super addictive Slice.ca for the mention! Now, I just hope that doesn't mean the next one will be bad.

The Sewing Studio Open House - in 2 days!

When I was a young girl, I could not sew. Oh, I could sew by hand, but put me in front of a machine and all I'd do is get the thread all jumbled up and jammed, and then I'd become incredibly frustrated and resort to completing my
Banana Split Pillow by hand.




Until a few years ago when Sew-Cute Sewy Seamstress taught me how to sew. And now, she's having an open house tomorrow night to show off her brand new fabulous sewing studio where she'll be offering all classes all the time! (It's like Rogers On Demand only you sew instead of watching movies you sew and go home feeling accomplished and crafty, and who doesn't want to feel crafty?). Still not convinced? I've crafted a Top 10 List of reasons why you should come to The Sewing Studio's open house this Wednesday (you know, if you live in Toronto):

1. You can sew a super cute TOP SECRET project only to be announced when you get to the studio!
2. Don't know how to use a sewing machine? You don't need one to make the free, fabulous TOP SECRET project!
3. Chocolate, cupcakes, candy. If I know Sew-Cute Sewy Seamstress, she'll have the goods.
4. Don't know how to sew? Sign up for one of the new classes so you can learn how to sew!
5. See cool projects by former students (and think, hey, if they can do that, maybe I can do that, too!)
6. Meet cool girls who like to sew (or pretend they like to sew even if they're not very good at it).
7. Gift bags!!! With lots of presents inside! Free!
8. A chance to win fabulous trips and prizes. Okay, maybe just prizes. It's not the Price Is Right after all.
9. A chance to win a yoga mat bag (made by me!) and a copy of Stuck in Downward Dog.
10. Don't live in Toronto? Then re-read incentives #1-9 for all the reasons you should COME to Toronto tomorrow night!


Here are the details! Hope you can come!

Serenity Now!

I've decided that Mr. Thirsty Head needs to go to LA. No, not that L.A. I'm not sending him to California to meet up with Lauren & Heidi, even though I know Mr Thirsty Head could bring them back together and knock Spencer's creepy teeth out. Obviously I can't send Mr. Thirsty Head there because, if you've been watching The Hills then you're probably wondering what I'm wondering. Which is: what happened to their dogs? Remember, the dogs they both got for Christmas last season? Gone.

Heidi: Where'd our dogs go, Lauren?
Lauren: We had dogs? (Pause).
Oh yeah, I totally forgot. (Longer pause).

Apparently, with all their trips to Area, they didn't have time to feed the dogs. So no, I can hardly send Mr Thirsty Head to hang out with them, because they'd just forget to feed him or give him water, and that's not going to help the problem at hand. So instead, Mr. Thirsty Head is going to Lappers Anonymous, because he needs to get this water-lapping addiction back to the bowl.

I mean, look how CUTE his bowl is?

Could any cat ask for a better bowl to drink his water from? But some-kitty doesn't like this lukewarm, on the floor, not fresh and flowing like a waterfall, water in his bowl.

But the goal is to get him back on the wagon. I mean, the bowl. To get him off the taps. So I looked up the 12 Steps to Serenity" (and recovery). Because if you're going to do the 12 steps, you've got to have a sponsor. And I'm just that kind of mom.

Step 1: Mr Thirsty Head must admit that he's powerless over his addiction and that his life has become unmanageable.

Right. So, last night, after Everwood, we sat down to talk about it. I told him that I don't have time to turn taps on and off for him and since he hasn't learned how to do it himself, it needs to come to an end. He just kept meowing and looking at the tap in the tub. So I think he realizes his addiction but he can't stop himself.

Then I told him that this addiction is unmanageable for me. And since his life really is in my hands - I mean, he can't feed himself or give himself water without me - that part of the step is up to me. And he realizes that. After spending an HOUR trying to break into his bag of catfood.



Must. Bust. Open. Bag.

Without any success. I'm not sure if he really was hungry or was just trying to prove a point - that I'm not the boss of him. Or perhaps he was just upset because he, too, thought that when I said he was going to LA, that I meant to visit Lauren & Heidi & Whitney & Audrina & evil Spencer.

But he wasn't. Instead, he took a trip to a land called Patio, where he had to sit and think about why he shouldn't wake his mother up at 3 am trying to bust open the cat food bag.

It may not have been sunny California, but it was raining, so he got all the water he wanted. And when he came back inside, he assured me that he fully comprehends and surrenders to Step 1 of the 12 step-plan.

Success! Only 11 more steps to go!

Yoga Bag giveaway and the super duper Sewing Studio Spectacular!

So my friend, Sew-Cute Sewy Seamstress had a dream. She loved to sew and one day she decided to teach her friends how to sew (since they were very very bad seamstresses and didn't know a selvage from a serger but thought that Stitching in the Ditch sounded way cool). So she started to teach classes in her apartment. She set up tables and sewing machines...





and a big bowl of candy....



Mmmm...... candy.

Everyone loved the classes and learned how to make skirts and shirts and even curtains and pillows! (Unfortunately the candy bowl proved too distracting for one girl, who will remain nameless, and she didn't master the art of measuring, or um, patience, so most of her items were rather lopsided. But she always left the class happy, because she'd had fun -- and candy!). As more and more students learned to sew, they spread the word until one day Sew-Cute Sewy Seamstress had so many students she had to hire another instructor. And another. And another, until there were so many students and instructors in her little apartment but there were still girls lined up with their sewing machines, waiting to get in. Because they wanted to learn how to Stitch in the Ditch, too!

So Sew-Cute Sewing Seamstress decided it was time to move. Fast forward to this Wednesday, April 11. The new Sewing Studio is having a party to celebrate its grand opening, with more space, more sewing machines, more instructors, and most of all... more candy! (But take it from me, you should try to avoid the candy if you really want to learn how to sew).

There's going to be cupcakes, cocktails and lots of free stuff including...



this brand new yoga bag that I made especially for the event, which is going to packaged up all pretty with an advance reader copy of Stuck in Downward Dog. And you could win it!

I promise, this one has no loose threads on the inside, and is fully functioning. So if you win it, you can actually put your yoga bag in it and head off to a class, you dedicated yogi, you. Or, you can just fill it with candy at the event, and then sneak home and eat candy on the couch all evening. I won't tell. Really.

Cat tales...

I'm not sure how it all started, but one day, several months ago, while the Hubs was away on business, Mr. Baz jumped up on the counter while I was doing my hair. He meowed at me, and I thought he was just sad that his buddy wasn't around. Still, I had to get to work, so in an attempt to distract him from his lonely woes, I turned on the tap. And he started to drink.




I thought it was so cute, and I couldn't wait to show the Hubs.

Strangely, he didn't think it was so cute. "Now you've started something."

He was right.

Every morning after that, when I'd get out of the shower, he'd be sitting on the counter, crying for water.

This made it quite difficult to get ready, because he was in my way. Also, I didn't want to spit out my mouthwash in case he licked that up instead of the water. I mean, there's alcohol in mouthwash! What if he got drunk? And surely toothpaste isn't for kitties. And I didn't want to leave my hairdryer or curling iron plugged in. What if kitty got electricuted?

So I tried to wean him off the water. It didn't work.

So then I tried to move him over to Hubs' sink so that my sink would be free, but he didn't like it as much. He just came back.

So then I tried to move him to the bathtub. And guess what? He likes it!



So this is a good thing, except that he ALSO likes the sink tap, still. And now, he not only likes to drink from the neverending fountain in the morning, but also, at night. As soon as I get home from work, he runs into the bathroom, jumps on the counter and meows for me to come in and turn on the tap. Only now, sometimes he drinks and sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes, as soon as I've left the bathroom, he hops down off the counter and jumps into the tub, then cries for me to come back and turn on the tub tap. Then, after he has a bit to drink, he takes a break. Sometimes he just sits on the edge of the tub for a few minutes, but other times, he leaves the bathroom and walks around, or licks his chest, which is full of water drops, dry. So then I go back and turn off the taps, because who knows if and when he'll be back and I have to do my part to save the world, too, you know. I watched An Inconvenient Truth. Every little bit helps.

But then, quite often, Mr. Thirsty Head decides he HASN'T had enough to drink, so he goes back into the bathroom, and whines whines until I turn the tap on the sink or the tub back on. And then the process starts all over again.

So why is this a problem, aside from the obvious mini-workout that I'm getting with all this walking back and forth to the bathroom and turning on and off of taps? Because I got the page proofs on my book back from my editor last week and I have to read them to make sure there aren't any mistakes and all these cat calls are distracting me from the task at hand.

So if there are mistakes in the book when it comes out, just remember this post. Oh, and if you make mistakes in your own work (whether it's a very important proposal for the Queen or your Finite Math assignment), just blame it on your own thirsty cat. It's a much better excuse than the dog ate my homework, don't you think?