June 25th, 2008 writerspice
Today is the last day of school in my neck of the woods. And what that means is that my dear husband will soon be wandering around the house, watching DVD episodes of long-cancelled TV shows in the middle of the afternoon and generally attempting to find something to do. By August, he’ll be hanging around my office – I’m b-o-o-o-red… – as I struggle to maintain my fledgling career.
If he wasn’t a Luddite, I might expect some trouble from those comments, because the truth of it (what can I say? I’m a writer, I make stuff up) is more like this: canoe to be patched in the backyard, sailboat to be painted and polished, summer course to take, solo camping trip to embark on and a whole number of other things that, really, aren’t all that bad at all… I’m sure he’ll still find some time to catch those afternoon naps, closing his eyes against the glare on the TV screen.
And more power to him, I say. After all, who can resist the pull of the season of sun, when a few short months ago the view out our front door looked like this:
Now, instead of snow-shovelling, you might find us plowing through a medium of a different sort. One more watery, more blue, more relaxing, more like this (Lake Simcoe, a couple weekends ago):
HAPPY SUMMER, EVERYONE!
Posted in Orillia, Pretty Pictures, Seasons | No Comments »
May 20th, 2008 writerspice
Here in Canada, despite our long-standing sovereignty, we continue to celebrate the birthday of royal monarch Queen Victoria. Known affectionately as May 2-4 (get it?), the long May weekend, which just passed, always reminds me of those oh-so-brief relationships that peppered the tedium of high-school.
You know the type. For weeks before actually getting together, the spirits were drenched in infatuated anticipation. A butterfly broke lose from its chrysalis every time he cast a glance your way in chemistry class. And then, the moment came. You got together with some sloppy dance-floor kisses, only to quickly discover in the coming days that he was either a) drunk, b) actually seeing someone else, or c) really, really into hockey.
We spend so much time waiting – a whole white, frigid winter – for the first weekend of summer and nine times out to ten, those three precious days are still bogged down by bad weather. This year, the annual May 2-4, proved again disappointing.
J. and I had great plans. We were going to head out into the wind for an overnight with my mom and step-dad on our co-owned sailboat. Only problem, the wind would have knocked us flat, to then be pounded by rain, to then be frozen solid by the plummeting temperatures.
Sailing plans cancelled, we were still obligated to bring the canine baby to the kennel. So, we dropped him off and ended up at what we call commerce-land to catch a matinee.
Unfortunately, everybody else in town had the same thought.
We got advance tickets for the early evening show, grabbed a disappointing bite to eat at a nearby cafe and ended up taking advantage of our dog-free time by, um, wandering the aisles of Future Shop, Home Depot, and, yes, I admit it, Walmart, where we purchased a Pyrex measuring cup, some smaller measuring cups and fish hooks. J. also romantically squired me into a Dollar Store where we cruised the craft aisle and he bought a single square of yellow foam and some beads.
After killing those couple hours, we ended up watching that new Patrick Dempsey rom-com, Made to Honor or Made of Honor, or whatever it’s called. Despite the clutch of teenage girls actively pretending they owned the place in the back row, it wasn’t all that bad. The best part? Both the stunning Scottish scenery and beer, afterwards, at a downtown pub where we talked about the movie, writing and extreme wrestling. Mostly.
Once I was stuck in a small village in Argentina with nothing at all to do. So I went to a movie. A scrawled sign on the outside gave the ticket price for something like “a man and his family.” I’m not sure what I paid for the film – that Nicolas Cage one, where he wishes he was single and wakes up into an alternate life without his family – but it was fun and gave me a break from both my solitude and my book.
Yesterday morning, lying in bed finishing up a Jane Austin novel, I realized that sometimes, no matter where you are, no matter what high hopes you have for a holiday, what exotic food is appearing on your plate or what language floats through the air around you, plans just don’t work out and life becomes, well, boring. Back before we had the privilege of easy travel, it was that way more often (especially for women who couldn’t randomly announce they were leaving the children and the spouse to go shoot something in the pastoral countryside and had to rely on needlework to vigorously stab away the time).
That’s just the way things are.
Book finished, I got up and weeded the garden and felt a bit better. And, hey, no matter how many disappointing, sloppy kisses the weekend gave us, it’s still a four-day work-week and nobody can be annoyed by that (well, except maybe Queen Victoria, who, in all her portraits, never really seems happy about anything at all. Maybe she was sick of all that needlework).
Posted in Contemplations, Orillia, Seasons | No Comments »
May 5th, 2008 writerspice
This Saturday, J. and I took advantage of a break in the rain to head out to Grant’s Woods, a 52-acre section of forest protected by the Couchiching Conservancy, a land-trust organization that oversees the maintenance of several important acreages in and around Lakes Couchiching and Simcoe.
With Ollie on leash, we wandered the 1.5 kilometre Trillium Trail, stopping at several numbered spots to learn about bittersweet vine, yellow birch, salamanders and other facts of the forest. Most of the trilliums are just about to bloom, their tightly-wrapped white flowers waiting for the sun, but we did see a few of the rarer red variety, wide open.
But what I love most about being in the woods on a wet spring day is the smell. Sweet and spicy, that heady aroma of freshly melting mud mixed with sprouting cedar and other awakening wild stuff always reminds me of the very best times in my life – living in a B.C. rain-forest, wandering through the woods behind my childhood home.
And this forest is especially special. Says the website:
“…it is the woodlands on this property that are its true value. Except for the removal of a few dead trees for firewood, this upland forest has not been touched for over a century. The result today is a fine old-growth stand with towering hard maple, white ash, red oak, white pine, and hemlock. The soils here are deep moist sands, ideal conditions to produce tall, straight, healthy trees. They also produce water – lots of small cool streams in shallow ravines, which collect together to form one of the headwaters of the North River. Indigo buntings occur along the woodland edges. In the shade of the forest, Christmas fern and spring wildflowers are abundant.”
With several more trails yet to explore and the changes of the seasons to watch, Jason and I will be back there soon. Maybe even for Mother Earth Day, this coming Saturday (May 10) when local bands will be playing in the gazebo, accompanying a native smudge ceremony by Mnjikaning First Nation elder and storyteller Mark Douglas, a spinner who works with husky fur, snake and turtle demonstrations and bird-nesting-box building for kids, alongside lots of other activities… (for more information, go to the homepage of the Couchiching Conservancy website and scroll down). A great way to celebrate mother’s day, if you’re in the area.
Photograph by Lauren Carter
Posted in Orillia, Pretty Pictures, Recommended, Seasons | 3 Comments »
April 24th, 2008 writerspice
Maple syrup season is almost over, which means that the sugar shacks will soon be closing their doors.
Luckily, this spring, the members of my family who are based near Shaw’s Sugar Bush (watch the video about how do what they do), a 104-year-old maple syrup farm down the 14th Line, near Orillia, finally followed through on what has become an on-again, off-again tradition. Last weekend, we gathered for pancakes soaked in the sweet gleaming gold from our region’s special trees.
In the barn-like restaurant, we sat at a long table beneath historical photographs and watched the staff steadily serving French toast, sausages, maple baked beans, maple tea, spiced apple cider and other tasty elements of Canadian cuisine. After committing that classic eyes-bigger-than-the-stomach sin, my nephews, my sister, her husband, my mom, my step-dad, Jason and I wattled wandered out back to leisurely work off at least a fraction of those big buttermilk pancakes.
Tall, grey maples stood over a carpet of dead leaves, spotted with bunches of pale purple, white and yellow flowers, the first colour of the season.
We stood back as a team of Percheron horses pulled a wagon past us, following a 1.6 kilometre loop through the trees, roped together by the green tubing (they don’t actually use buckets anymore) that collects the precious sap. My nephews ran ahead and, in a moment of sugar-fueled-Indiana-Jones-adrenaline that only small boys and mothers with threatened children can muster, actually jumped on the wagon…
As the morning steadily promised to be a glorious day, J. and I said goodbye to go home and work on our garden and get busy refurbishing our thirsty canoe, in preparation for other eagerly-awaited warm-weather adventures.
Shaw’s is open for one more weekend. Visit their site for a menu and more information.
Photos by Lauren Carter
Posted in Food, Ontario, Orillia, Seasons | 1 Comment »
February 26th, 2008 writerspice
A hint of spring arrived this Sunday. The sky was blue and the bright sun ate away at our – no exaggeration – six-foot snowbanks. We decided to take advantage of the weather by heading out into one of our local public forests, for a turn around a ski-trail. This plan immensely pleased a certain member of our small family who seems to be getting a bit tired of the epic winter couch naps (poor guy) and the salt-stung paws. Does he not look at least a little pleased:
It’s kind-of hard to see him, but on closer inspection, it becomes evident that his pleasure might be based on the fact that this formerly floor-bound canine has recently learned how to levitate (I think the power is in his tongue)… Now there’s a happy camper.
Posted in Orillia, Seasons, Simcoe County | No Comments »
January 22nd, 2008 writerspice
The snow keeps coming – a further ten to 20 centimeters expected today, on top of the 40 we’ve received since Saturday – and here’s what that looks like right now through my office window.
On the weekend, J. and I valiantly embraced the wintery-ness of it all by walking to the local track to strap on our skis and do a few loops. But as soon as I pressed down on the plastic clamp that keeps the boot in, crack, it broke. The sun had come out, so I stood and soaked it up while watching J. break trail and slide his way around a few times.
I must admit that this kind of weather is exciting. It’s all over the radio, a news event, as Rick Mercer has ranted about. As he oh-so-concisely puts it, “This is Canada. We have winter. Life sucks. Get a toque. And embrace it.” This attempt at, um, embracing, is likely why winter festivities abound across Ontario. Not needed so much during those balmy wintry days of late, organizers must be gleeful with as they observe this more traditional Canadian season coming down all around.
One thing’s for sure, the 1,200 square foot ice castle that’s built every year at the Port of Orillia should stay intact as long as this weather does. Home to Shivers, the mascot of the Orillia Winter Carnival, the structure will be erected on February 2 and 3 (want to help? Visit the website), in time for the grand event on February 8, 9 and 10. This shin-dig has everything you could ask for: dog sled rides, snow sculpting, a polar bear dip, a pig roast and much, much more down home fun in the sun snow.
Posted in Orillia, Seasons | 2 Comments »
November 23rd, 2007 writerspice
A peaceful morning moment in Orillia, Ontario. One thing I love about this town: how the streets turn into an old-fashioned tableaux as soon as the first snow arrives.
Posted in Orillia, Pretty Pictures, Seasons | No Comments »
November 15th, 2007 writerspice
Imagine this: you’re standing in a train station, minding your own business, reading a magazine or staring at your fingernails, when all of a sudden the whole place begins to rumble with the arrival of a locomotive. A whistle blows. Steam billows into the air. Everyone watches as the behemoth pulls to a screaming stop, opens its doors and emits a rowdy, eager, excited crowd of bright-eyed revellers.
Ladies and Gentleman, it’s the Santa Claus Express. Buckle up, put away your reading material and get ready for the ride. From where I’m standing, it seems that this is the weekend the holiday madness celebrations officially start.
Here in Orillia, a candle lit procession along our historical main street will start at the Legion on Saturday evening at 6:00 pm. The town crier (yep, we still have one of those), minstrels and carolers will lead everyone to the Opera House, where Father Christmas, the Holly Queen and a bunch of official folk will ring an official start to the season (don’t forget to bring your donation of a non-perishable food item). The next afternoon, Santa is dropping in during the Santa Claus Parade to give a few ho-ho-hos before things really get hectic.
The guy has a busy schedule. At varying times on the same day, he’s also showing up in Oakville, Sudbury, Cambridge, Niagara Falls, Woodstock and Thunder Bay. In Ottawa, this Saturday’s Help Santa Toy Parade, organized by the Fire Fighters’ Association for nearly 40 years, is expected to fulfill its tradition of bringing out thousands who line the streets to give their donations of new toys or money to people collecting along the parade route.
But Santa’s starring appearance on Saturday will happen in the nation’s biggest city, during the world’s largest Christmas parade (warning: very creepy elf on this website).
Started in 1905 as a way to advertise the arrival of Santa at the Eaton’s department store, the Toronto Santa Claus Parade has persevered through two world wars and the end of Eaton’s sponsorship (1982: soon followed by the end of Eaton’s). Along the way, Santa’s been pulled by live reindeer shipped in from Labrador (1913) and brought in by aeroplane (1919). During World War 2, when supplies were scarce, costumes were made out of paper (1939). These days, about half a million people throng the streets to watch a multitude of marching bands and over 20 elaborate floats wind their way through the downtown streets.
Whatever you do this weekend and however you celebrate (or don’t) this time of the year, it’s pretty clear that from here on in, things are gonna get nuts.
Photo by Shopping Diva
Posted in Ontario, Orillia, Seasons | 3 Comments »
October 17th, 2007 writerspice
I love a good scare. When I was a kid my parents went to town designing a haunted house for my first Hallowe’en party. They brought my blindfolded friends through our pitch-black storage/wood room, guiding their hands into bowls of cold, cooked spaghetti (brains) and peeled grapes (eyeballs). The punch was a frothy green goo. I loved it!
With said attraction to the sinister, it’s a drag that I’ll miss the Scream Shack, a haunted house out in the Oro-Medonte countryside that is the highlight of the year for surrounding school kids. Every year I aim to go and something always comes up. This time it’s a few things – each of them a great option for anyone looking for weekend entertainment in Orillia and area.
Moonshine Theatre’s third event Moving Parts: Original 10-Minute Plays opens tomorrow night, until October 20th. Starting at 7:30 pm in the intimate Studio Theatre at the Orillia Opera House, the evening features seven shorts by local writers Andy McTavish, S.C. Pinney, Travis Shilling, and Lauren Carter (me).
This is only the second play I’ve ever written and it’s been inspiring, challenging and exciting to put it on the paper and see it come to life, expertly acted by local Janet-Lynne Durnford. Andy also sets himself on the stage, along with Jason Mills (my better half). With music, humour, absurdity and social commentary, the evening promises to entertain and give viewers a lot to think about as they enjoy trumpet and smooth vocals during the weekend’s 17th annual Orillia Jazz Festival.
On Sunday, the day after we close, and following a potentially raucous cast party, Jason and I are heading to Collingwood for the city’s Autumn Restaurant Walking Tour to taste our way through ten different venues, including a country inn and a local vineyard (who knew?).
A busy weekend before I head off bright and early Monday morning for a press trip to take in some art in southern Michigan.
Photo by Michael Bird TX
Posted in Orillia, Simcoe County | 1 Comment »
October 15th, 2007 writerspice
Last weekend I bought some garlic that came from Italy.
Italy!
I thought about it a bit. Held it in my hand and stared at it, papery skin shining under the flourescent lights of Food Basics. There were excuses: not enough time, it’s cheap, I’m already here… But I hesitated before tossing it into the grocery cart.
All summer Jason and I have been working with excuses. Saturday mornings are long, slow affairs that involve our once-a-week cup of coffee as we read books and talk. Once up, we take our dog for a run in the woods. By the time we get home, it’s often past 12:30, the time when the weekly Orillia Farmers’ Market shuts down.
No local food for us. No wandering stalls full of green, orange and red vegetables, glowing jars of honey, chicken that once ran around under the sun and fresh baked bread while the local folk band takes to the stage. If we were travelling, we’d be here in a jiffy, awed by the richness and colour of this 135-year-old market, buying stuffed olives and homemade crepes while perusing the wooden crafts and knitted tea-cozies (nothing that isn’t handmade is allowed at this market). But at home, we’re just too lazy.
This weekend, we decided to go. All week I’d been thinking about the garlic, imagining how much fuel it took to get it here and how quickly we’d used it up. I was thinking about Doug Porter, too. The chef at Collingwood’s Simcoe County Restaurant, he’d talked passionately about apples when I interviewed him last week. Imports are cheaper to buy so orchards in one of Ontario’s lushest apple belts are being razed for condos, he said.
As the rain slowly grew stronger in the growing grey of the day, we bought a jar of lavender honey from a beekeeper who lives just past the edge of town and organic tomatoes, potatoes, onions, spinach, squash and, of course, garlic grown on a farm fifteen miles away. All for about $30. We missed the whole summer!, we said to each other on the way home. How can that be?
That day, I picked up a copy of The 100-Mile Diet: A Year of Local Eating. The book details the expensive, difficult and rewarding effort by J.B. MacKinnon and Alisa Smith to survive on food grown within a tight radius of their apartment as opposed to the typical 1500 to 2500 miles it travels to get to the grocery store. Three chapters in and I’m already wondering where we can store enough beets and potatoes to last us the winter. I’ll keep you posted.
Posted in Food, Going Green, Orillia | 1 Comment »
