Feeling the Chill

On the same day that I posted this picture of the magical frost patterns on Brian's window:

I snapped, but did not post this picture:

Because, really, it's kinda gross. That's standing water and soap scum. And, of course, it happened just before Steve flew out to the Northwest Territories for several days. Before he left, he disconnected the vent/fan in the main floor powder room which is just below the bathtub, but that didn't fix the problem.

I called a plumber, but the soonest he could get to us was several days later after, coincidentally, the temperatures rose from -30C to a gentle -10C. The plumber showed up, augured the drain and had things working in no time a-tall.

Then the temperature dropped again and - lo and behold - the tub plugged up again. So tonight, Steve got serious and ripped that powder room a new one. Hole, that is. So now we have this:

After cutting the new hole (the one on the left, where the U-trap is), Steve swept up all the mess and, before he knew it, he heard water draining from the tub. The long-term solution will involve insulating the U-trap and patching the ceiling.  Without a vent, thank you very much - the room has a functioning window and does not have a shower or anything to produce humidity.

Since we're in the powder room anyway, I figure I might as well show you some "glam shots," so here you go:

You may have to click the picture to enlarge it, but the faucet is really quite beautiful.

A Little OCD Goes a Long Way

UPDATE: I updated the room layouts for greater accuracy. sigh.

I've diagnosed myself as being a little OCD (that's Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder). I say "a little" in the sense that it sometimes annoys me, but it really doesn't interfere with day-to-day life very much. It may irritate others as well, but I prefer to ignore their discomfort; I've got plenty of my own to deal with.

One of my doctors said OCD is often a way of coping with ADD, which explains a lot: when you are liable to keep losing track of things, becoming extremely organized and detail-focused is a good way of balancing the lateral vagaries of your mind.

For the most part, this peculiarity has actually helped me. A colleague once described me as "almost obsessively organized" -- in a good way. As a team, it helps to have someone who is watching all the loose ends.

But it does have its downside. For example, I am always irritated by crooked pictures, and there are a couple in our house that NEVER seem to hang straight. Like the one at left. It hangs at the bottom of our stairs. Because of its composition, it always seems to be tilted, ever so slightly. I'm pretty sure I straighten it every time I walk by.

I need to just get some nails or superglue or something and fix it permanently.

One day, I was at our veterinarian's office and noticed that one of the diplomas was off-kilter, ever so slightly. I tried to nudge it straight, but it seemed to be snagged, so I lifted it off its nail. Big mistake -- I could not get it back on. My efforts became more frantic the longer it took, until the vet walked in, looked at me quizzically and hung it for me. Awkward.

Another time, we rented a house for a 4-night long weekend with some good friends. The house was graced with a large, open family room with a grand central fireplace flanked by beautiful, 2-storey picture windows. The furniture layout, however, irritated the heck out of me for two full days before I rearranged it. Yes, I rearranged furniture in a rental accommodation that I was only going to live in for two more days. But, look, it was really stupid:

BEFORE: Sofas perpendicular to the windows
crowded pathways

I mean, I understand why they did it that way: the windows were such a focal point that it sort of made sense to align the furniture to them. But we moved things around to this:

AFTER: Furnishings focused on the fireplace,
parallel or perpendicular to main walls.

MUCH better, eh? A small change really (though I will confess to also moving the TV, the rocking chair, the plant stand and ... maybe a few other things as well). My arrogant self thought the rental agent/owners would walk in and think, "Oh, yes! That's what we've been missing!" But, alas, when we went back the following year, everything had been restored to its original position.

Yes, we did rearrange the furniture for that subsequent visit as well, though just a little bit.

The 80% solution - less fuss, but still an improvement.

It's worth noting that, though I was the only person bothered by the layout, my hubby and friends were happy to go along with my interference. That's love, folks.

Anyway. Hope you all had a good weekend. I'm going to go alphabetize the fiction books. (Non-fiction, reference, and self-help will have to wait for another day. A girl can only do so much at a time!)

Λατρεύω την κόρη μου.

No, I did not fall asleep on my keyboard with the font set to "Wingdings." That text up there, according to Google translate, says, "I love my daughter." It transliterates as, "Latrév̱o̱ ti̱n kóri̱ mou."

Tonight I realized that I hadn't spent much one-on-one time with Katie. In fact, it's been years since just the two of us went out to dinner. In light of my New Year's Resolution to spend more individual time with each of my kids, I invited her out for dinner. We decided on Greek. I ordered one of my favourite snacks: spanakopita, a fillo pastry stuffed with spinach and feta and garlic.

Nom nom nom!

Katie ordered this:

Yes, yes that is a tentacle. Of an octopus.

Um. Are those suction cups?

Why, yes, they are suction cups. Have I mentioned that I do not enjoy eating things with recognizable body parts? Suction cups (which apparently is the technical term; I checked) are identifiable body parts. And they are icky. Katie, however, loved them. She said it tasted like cheese, which she loves but can no longer eat, so she was delighted.

For my part, I averted my gaze and enjoyed my pastry.

More important than the food, of course, were the conversation and the company -- both of which were very convivial. My daughter is really no longer a girl, but a woman, one whom I quite like and enjoy spending time with.

Still, next time I'll let her dad take her out for cephalopod.

Picture Windows

Most of the windows in our house are triple-glazed, thermal windows, but a few have yet to be replaced. This morning, Brian called me into his room, which faces East, to look at the beautiful frost patterns.

Kind of beautiful, yes, but those windows clearly (or not so clearly) need to be replaced.

Fails to Follow Instructions

That line may have appeared in more than one of my grade-school report cards. Because sometimes, in my enthusiasm, I leap two or three steps ahead of the instructions and have to undo things. Ctrl+Z is my friend. In the real world, however, things can sometimes spin wildly off the rails.

A few months ago, my niece, whose baby was then a newborn, posted that she had "accomplished one thing today." She attached a picture of what she had achieved:


Chicken Broccoli Braid
She described it as "not as fancy as it looks."

Doesn't that look scrumptious? So many of us commented on it that she finally posted a blog about it, complete with recipe and instructions.

Today, I finally had all the ingredients lined up along with the time to prepare a decent meal, so I dove right in. The filling really is pretty simple - chicken, broccoli, sweet red pepper, and cheddar.

Diane's instructions explained that she had "laid the triangles of crescent dough out, corners overlapping, on a circular baking stone." I figured it would just "come to me" when I finally had the pastry open.

We popped open the crescent-roll dough (it's a little alarming when food explodes out of its container, isn't it?). The triangles immediately fell apart into segments of dough. I tried to patch them into something resembling triangles. I couldn't figure out how to overlap the triangles. I forgot to brush the pastry with egg white before sprinkling the slivered almonds. It then became clear that, well ... I was headed for extreme failure. So I winged it and decided that, even if it looked like a dog's breakfast, it would still taste good.

Here's what I ended up with:


Lopsided Chicken Broccoli ... Thing

It's not quite horrific and it did taste yummy (except for the uncooked dough underneath all that filling), but it sure isn't the work of art that Diane made. Maybe she'll post some in-progress pictures next time she makes it?