partial victory

I managed to get it together to hem my shorts and change the straps on my dress.

Now I'm going to bed so I can wake up early and clean up this mess I made before leaving for NYC(!).

august, i'll see you soon

Okay okay okay okay, I am not complaining in the slightest, but August has been the BUSIEST! We're just about half-way through and I have barely had 5 minutes to even think about starting a project or even cooking for myself.

I started a new job - a good development, for sure.
A long weekend at the cottage - relaxing, beautiful, excellent all-around.
Six days/five nights in NYC - I mean, come on, amazing!
Another weekend at the cottage, this time with pals - super best times, right?

But there is still a small part of me that is thinking "if I only had time to change the straps on that dress that I never wear only because I hate the straps," or "I really do want to turn that t-shirt dress into a skirt," or "I should probably hem Jay's shorts because he asked me to do that LAST SUMMER (mega fail)."

But I haven't done any of those things. For some reason, I have this superwoman feeling that I could do it all tonight, in between laundry, packing, and going out for a nice dinner.

Maybe I can... maybe I will?

Stay tuned.

modern living

My name is Tallulah, and I'm a laptop addict.

Between the working, playing on the internet, listening to music and, yes, even solitaire, I am on my computer a lot. And my computer gets hot. And then my legs get hot. I don't like it, and it can't be good for my circulation (I will probably get spider veins on my upper thighs by 30).

I've been meaning to make a lap desk for a while, you know, a hard surface attached to a cushion, like the things kids take on car trips. Like everything else I've intended to make, I over-complicated the idea in my head and made excuses about not having the right materials to whip it together.

Today, I took advantage of the holiday Monday (and the last full-day of being at home until the end of the month) and made this:


It took me about half an hour, and I am embarrassed that it took me so long to get to it. I repurposed a sweater-jacket I found at value village (I loved the fabric, but wasn't so into the XXL + shoulder pads business) and tore up my old pillow to make the cushion part, which I staple-gunned (best impulse purchase ever, maybe?) to a piece of scrap wood I got from Jay. Then I cut (well, I got Jay to do this part) a little table top of really thin mdf left over from his band days and used the tiny finishing nails that come with the staple gun (seriously, it is the best) to secure it to the top.

I think it has also improved the ergonomic situation of my laptop-loving, couch potato lifestyle, so even more win!

getting over myself

I make a lot of excuses. I can find hundreds of ways to procrastinate and always have reasons stockpiled to justify why I shouldn't take on a new task or project. It's too hot, I'm too tired, I don't have the materials, or, my personal favourite, I just can't be bothered.

But things are supposed to change, right? I'm supposed to be doing things for my own damn self!


So! I baked that damned peach pie, and it was damn easy and damn good!


Jay had picked up a basket of Ontario peaches a couple of days before, and some of them were already starting to turn. It was a good excuse for making my favourite pie and with the fruit and the hilarious stock-pile of baking ingredients left over from my pre-wedding panic a couple of months ago, I had everything I needed.

I used Martha's recipe for Pate Brisée, which is my hands-down favourite for flavour. I always err on the dry side of pie dough, which is a pain when I'm rolling it out, but really pays off when the pie is baked and the pastry is rich and a good mix of chewy and flaky.

For the filling, I peeled and sliced the peaches, then tossed them with some white sugar, a splash of lemon juice and a sprinkle of corn starch (I prefer tapioca, but I keep forgetting to pick some up). Before the pie went in the oven, I freaked out a bit because I could only smell the corn starch and I was worried my pie would come out tasting like glue.

Nope. It tasted like sweet peach heaven and Jay and I + 2 houseguests disappeared'er pretty quick.

healthy eating

The thing about healthy eating is that it's often easier than eating crap. I definitely have days of being lazy and reaching for the take-out menus, but when farmer's market season rolls around I get inspired to buy fresh, local, organic produce and prepare meals that show off natural flavours. I feel like it's a waste of time and money to buy such perfect things and overpower them with spices and seasonings invented to mask less than ideal ingredients.




I've made this dish a few times this summer, and I can't see myself ever getting sick of it. Peeled, uncooked baby beets are the stars here, with their natural earthy sweetness and dense crunch. The thick, slightly bitter greens don't go to waste, and are softened with heat and lemon juice so they don't overwhelm the palate. Feta cheese is ideal, because the saltiness plays off the sweetness of the beets really well, but when supermarket feta is almost $6 (not okay!), goat cheese will do. I prefer the salty feta to the tangy goat cheese, but this meal needs one of the two to really balance the depth of flavour. And, of course, chickpeas for protein, but also for that neutral, creamy flavour that brings everything together. I used fresh dill as a garnish, but I wonder if mint would be better.

delays (and excuses)

This week has been a bust, creativity-wise. The flip-flopping weather coupled with my new job have left me pretty brain dead and low on energy. Just when my energy returned and I got the urge to bake, the heat went up and the urge quickly dissipated. I have started making improvements to my sewing room, to encourage more spontaneous crafting, but until Jay comes through with the storage units he's building for me, the desk and table will be covered with crap I've accumulated for no good reason but can't bring myself to throw out.

A cool breeze just came through my window. I just might turn that basket of peaches into a pie after all.