'tis the season

We went to the Santa Claus parade with the Spanish Inquisition! She got very into the foam Rudolph noses — I would open one and she would stick her little face out for me to put it on her nose. Or I would put it on my nose and she would try to swipe it off, laughing the whole time. And then she sat on our shoulders and bopped along to the marching bands.

I'm pretty excited about Christmas this year. Technically, last year was her first Christmas, but she was barely six months old — she was just along for the ride; she didn't really experience it. As magical Christmases go, it was kind of a let-down. I mean, she was happy, for the most part:


The Spanish Inquisition on Christmas Day, 2011, being little.
... but it had absolutely nothing to do with Christmas. In fact, she found Christmas itself kind of stressful — too much noise, not enough naps.

This year, though — this year, she's a lot more aware. She has the requisite skills for enjoying a wee toddler's Christmas: she likes toys. She can sway to Christmas carols. And she loves to rip up tissue paper. Last year, everyone doted on her and she was a little taken aback by all the people. This year ... well, let's just say that she loves the attention.


I'm not sure about the whole "Santa Claus" thing, though. (We actually missed the big man himself on Sunday — the Spanish Inquisition had napped through lunchtime, so we left early so we could all grab lunch before the big crush.) Pd grew up with it, so he's all for it; I'm ... well. Undecided, obviously. It wasn't a part of my childhood, so I'm a little cynical and a little confused by the whole thing. I mean: who gets to be Santa Claus? Doesn't it get weird if three different sets of parents/grandparents decide to all be "Santa"? (Trust me, in this family, it could happen.) And if you think I'm over-thinking this ... well, Pd agrees with you.

My parents weren't big into fostering childhood illusions. I remember them discussing the North American tradition of the Tooth Fairy, and how ridiculous it was that kids could con money out of their parents that way, in front of me. I was seven. So you see, the cynicism is genetic.

So I don't know. I like fairy tales, though, and magic, and isn't giving your kids the childhood you never had part of the point?

but what about the kitchen?

I have a small tradition of gardening on Remembrance Day (or, this year, its weekday substitute). I get the day off, and because it's not a family-themed holiday — usually, not even a long weekend — I have no plans except puttering at home. (This isn't a problem. I quite like puttering.) So, gardening.


It's mostly just a matter of raking up the leaves from the path (I leave the leaves to decompose over the winter in the garden itself) — our neighbourhood is full of mature oak trees; absolutely lovely in the summer, but it's paid for in the fall — and weeding. A couple of years ago I planted the spring bulbs, but this year I was not nearly that organized and so, no bulbs. I neglected the garlic, too.

But what about the kitchen? you ask.

Did I mention that the roses are still blooming? The yellow 'Graham Thomas' has come and gone — it was lovely, perfect, bowl-shaped like a peony, which of course meant that I loved it — but 'The Fairy' and 'Amber Rose' are still at it, despite my ceasing to deadhead sometime around September.


They are so lovely, and so surprising, that even Pd has commented on them. Not that he doesn't notice them in August, say, but they are so exceptional right now, in this cold, that they drove him to comment.

And the kitchen? you say.


Also, I've been knitting. I finished my cardigan; it hasn't been blocked but I've worn it at least a dozen times. (I finished it right before a cold snap, so it got pressed into service right away. I'm too impatient for blocking; what if I want it, and it's still wet?) I made little striped leggings for the Spanish Inquisition.

They were leftover yarn from the stash — the white is Debbie Bliss baby cashmerino, and the grey is (I think) some BMFA Woobu in (again, I think) Valkyrie. Anyway, they are soft, lovely and warm, and you have to imagine them slipping over little black boots; they are absolutely adorable.

And yes, that is absolutely a (defunct) cell phone in her wee little hands. She kept trying to grab ours, and playing with them, so in the end we gave her one of Pd's old ones that was going to go into the donation bin. She is perfectly happy with it. She's too young to actually play on the smartphones, so she just likes pressing the buttons and holding it up to her ear; the lack of interactivity doesn't faze her. It does make me wonder, though, if we spend too much time on the phone with her around.

 And what, you say, paragon of impatience that you are, about the kitchen?

What, the adorable picture of the baby wasn't sufficient distraction for you? (Obviously not.)


I was going to blog about it, but then things got busy, and complicated, and tiring. We've been working on it on weekends and most weeknights. It's amazing: what feels like a treat at the beginning (take-out every night!) begins to feel more like an interminable purgatory of the stomach (oh God, please oh please can't I just cook?). I can't wait until 100% of our kitchen appliances are inside. Right now we're running about 50-50: the fridge and the dishwasher are in, but the stove and exhaust hood are not. (And in case you think we prioritized the dishwasher — well, yes, we sort of did, but also mostly because it's one of those built-in ones, and so we had to build the cabinets around it; it couldn't wait until we were done.)

The tentative schedule was this:

Week 1: Demolition (of everything — cabinets and floors)
Week 2: Tiling (and between weeks 2 and 3, grouting and sealing said floor)
Week 3: Construction

There were small things in between, like electrical work and painting. We didn't finish sealing until the last day of week 2, but that still hewed to the schedule. And then, I figured — how hard could it be to build Ikea cabinets? We're pretty handy and can run up a Billy bookcase right lickety-split. So how hard could it be?

In case you ever need to know this: Ikea cabinets are not Billy bookcases. Billy bookcases, for example, do not need holes for plumbing. Also, the ease of building a kitchen is directly proportional to how straight your walls and floor are. This is not a problem in condos, or new builds, or old houses that have been taken down to studs and then rebuilt. Unfortunately, our house is none of those. We did think about levelling out the floor — but then, as Pd pointed out, our walls would look crooked.

As for the timeline ... we are currently in week five. Week 6 starts tomorrow.