52:50

Newfoundland is

escaping the rain and going to Africa.

Thank goodness for Netflix. Even Kirby was relieved to see something new and get a break from this week of down pours.

Hoping the last two weeks of this project will give us the opportunity to actually get some pictures of Newfoundland that aren't my house or back yard.

Love Letter to The Bonavista Social Club

Published in The Packet

This week’s column is a love letter to my favorite place in Newfoundland. There are very few experiences in my life that make me feel poetic, but every time we visit the Bonavista Social Club in Upper Amherst Cove, I feel positively bard-like. The entire dining experience is sensorial bliss.  Last year, we ate lunch there five weekends in a row despite the fact that the restaurant is over an hour away.

It is no easy feat driving over the bumpy road for that long with a baby who hates the car seat. We leave Clarenville desperate for fresh, flavorful, fried-free food that we didn’t cook ourselves. Forty-five minutes into the trip, we’re hungry and wondering if the trip is really worth the gas and time.

The answer is always YES. Everything we’ve eaten there is consistently tasty.

I rally when we see the tiny hand-painted arrow sign directing you down the hill to the restaurant. We park and feast on the view of lush gardens, the gorgeous bay with playful whales, the happy goats that seem to take their spectacular vantage point for granted. We haven’t even entered the small restaurant and my heart is singing every cliché of pastoral poetry.

The restaurant is beautiful in its simplicity. The carved wooden beams, mismatched handmade napkins, green glass bottles of cold water, and baskets of crusty bread complement the flavorful food. My husband always orders a crispy, garlicky pizza that he devours in minutes and then reminisces about as he waits for me to finish my meal. Last time, I was there I had the most delicious lamb and fresh papperdelle dish. I felt like crying when it was finished- it was that delicious. The baby gums basket after basket of the bread, still warm from the amazing wood-burning oven. We are fans of the bread, too. When they were closed for the season, we enjoyed five of their loaves, which we stowed in the freezer and warmed up when we needed some comfort food.

We speak highly of our dining experience at Bonavista Social Club to anyone who hasn’t gone. This backfired on us one weekend, when we arrived and found three of my husband’s coworkers there out for quiet lunches with their wives. My husband’s enthusiastic recommendation inspired them to check the restaurant out, but since the dining area is small, we were all within hearing distance of each other, leading to a slightly awkward meal of sometimes talking across tables to his colleagues and then self-consciously talking quietly to each other. Nonetheless, the food was divine.

The menu and ingredients vary depending on what is in the garden. On their web site, the restaurant credits the hard work of their volunteers from World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms (WWOOFers), for allowing them to serve the freshest produce available from their gardens. WWOOF is an educational and cultural exchange where volunteers from around the world spend time working with organic farmers and growers to learn more about sustainable stewardship of food. Volunteers come to Upper Amherst Cove from April to October.

I love the rural authenticity, the commitment to local fresh food, the attention to detail, and the overall vision of this restaurant. It is unlike anywhere else I have eaten in Newfoundland, and we’ll continue to trek out to Upper Amherst Cove on weekends to experience the beauty and revitalization that comes from surrounding yourself with nature while eating something wholesome and sustaining. Thanks Bonavista Social Club for being my happy place in Newfoundland!

52:49

Newfoundland is 

lots of couch time. 

It's not healthy, but our favorite past time is television. We finished the most recent season of Arrested Development and have started rewatching the old episodes. We're also watching Newsroom in the hopes of finding something smart to fill the void left by the season finale of Mad Men. Now that I have HBO, I can find out what the fuss is over Girls. 

I know I should be outside doing something instead of devoting all these hours to our big black box. Or at least exercising while watching this stuff. But at the end of a long day, is anything more satisfying than cuddling next to someone on the couch, leaving your world for a little while, and entering another world together.

Love, Marilyn

I want to start a new series of posts called Things that Broke My Heart (In a Kind of Good Way).

Long title, I know.

I just watched the 2012 HBO documentary Love, Marilyn. It tore me to bits.

It has actresses like Glenn Close, Elizabeth Banks, Uma Thurman, and Jennifer Ehle reading some of her very personal letters and writings that were recently found in an old storage unit while showing clips and photographs of Marilyn, set to an amazing soundtrack. I was impressed by Monroe's constant, desperate work at educating herself to become a "fine actress." Her writing is poetic, intelligent, and heartbreaking. You see how how she battles her self-doubt and depression, and how she loves herself and hates herself at the same time. She is so brave, so insecure, and so darned relatable.

To make sure we get a fair portrait of her, we also hear writings and see interviews with people who she frustrated and irritated. Laurence Olivier is particularly brutal in his opinions of her.

And I now hate Arthur Miller more than I did in high school when I had to suffer through Death of A Salesman. He comes off as a real jerk. You see the way she looks at him so adoringly, and how she prays that being loved by this Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright is an affirmation that she is someone smart and gifted and more than the blonde sexpot persona she created but got entrapped within. Miller fails her utterly.

The film makes me think a lot about what I would do if my personal diaries were real aloud like this after I was dead. I'd look like such an idiot, seeing that I've been writing the same, boring drivel about the usual boring things that all women worry over for fifteen years. But maybe if Jennifer Ehle read aloud my tirades on why I can't motivate myself to wake up early and exercise they would seem more profound than they really are.

I wonder what Marilyn would think of this documentary.

I hope she wouldn't hate us for hungrily getting into her business and eating up her words.

To me, it feels like Marilyn Monroe finally gets to show the world how serious and multifaceted she was as both an actress and a person.

I just got HBO Go and it is wonderful.

If you haven't seen Love, Marilyn, go watch it now!

(#15 to read the classic works of literature) Rebecca

I just finished listening to the audiobook Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier.  I've been wanting to read it for a long time now, after someone suggested it for a Halloween book club (we read Dracula instead).

Let me tell you a bit about it, if you haven't read it.

The book was published in 1938 and Hitchcock made a movie out of it in 1940 with Laurence Olivier and Joan Fontain, that I can't seem to find on Netflix or ITunes.

If you are a Jane Eyre fan or a Downton Abbey fan you'll enjoy this book.

So this young woman working as a companion for a wealthy American woman in Monte Carlo, falls in love with a rich English widower and marries him. She becomes mistress of this enormous house called Manderley. (How I loved all the descriptions of the Manderley gardens! I would love a garden, if I had a team of gardeners working on it and my sole job was to arrange flower clippings in vases around my mansion.) 

The problem for the main character (whose name is never revealed) is that she keeps comparing herself to her husband's dead wife, Rebecca, who was much beloved by almost everyone. She feels like she can never measure up to the beautiful, poised, vibrant, clever and charming dead woman whose memory seems to haunt the entire house. She is certain her husband is still in love with her and this causes her anxiety and an inability to do any of the tasks required of her as mistress of this house. Plus, there is the housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers, who does everything she can to keep the house the same as when Rebecca was alive.

I have some issues with the book as a whole. The main character is a tad pathetic. I rather liked the ghostly character who I was supposed to deem evil, and in the end I wasn't sure I liked cheering on a character who is trying to get away with murder. 

BUT there are two deliciously creepy scenes that make the whole read worth it. They both involve the housekeeper and main character: one where the housekeeper reveals just how devoted she is to keeping the memory of her dead mistress alive, and one where the housekeeper almost convinces the main character to jump from a window to her death.

I also loved reading about Daphne Du Maurier for a rather odd reason. Most writers of the classics seemed to live the stereotypically tortured artistic existence. Du Maurier seemed to have a pleasant, happy, comfortable life, without too much tragedy, and she still managed to be a famous writer. It's just soothing to me to know that a person doesn't have to be on the verge of mental illness to produce great works.

I'm sorry if this whole thing sounds like a book report. It's how I process literature, I guess. My mom used to make me write summaries of the books I read when I was five on these giant yellow legal pads, and then I'd turn them into my teachers...even though my teachers didn't assign them or probably really even want them.

Has anyone seen the movie version? Is it worth my tracking down? What are you reading lately?

52:48

Newfoundland is

rainy days.

My Mini United Nations

Published in The Packet

I expected my world to contract when I moved to Clarenville. Isn’t that a side effect of living in a small town? I hoped to meet Newfoundlanders, and gain appreciation for the culture of this province, but I didn’t expect to find much exposure to other cultures. How wrong I was!

Tomorrow my home will be flooded with 16 children (ages four and under) and nine moms for our weekly playgroup. These children will communicate with each other in English, Greek, Italian and Norwegian. Their families represent Newfoundland and Labrador, Ontario, the Southern and Midwestern U.S., Greece, France, Belize, the Philippines, Norway, Italy, and Croatia.  We are a mini United Nations of moms and kids joining together to achieve one common goal- a long, afternoon naptime caused by rambunctious international play.

The group grows as we meet new families entering the community. It has become my favorite resource for parenting information. We have fun sharing best parenting practices, commiserating about baby sleep schedules, discussing food and travel, and learning about the Town of Clarenville together.

Each week, a different mom hosts the group. The kids get a chance to socialize, eat healthy snacks, and play with someone else’s toys. The moms gab until around noon, when the advent of naptime approaches and the kids get sleepy and irritable.

Watching how these moms parent, talking to them about their experiences, and discussing cultural differences have been one of the highlights of my time here in Newfoundland.

I’ve learned that it is popular for babies and children in Nordic countries to nap outside, even in winter. Their moms believe kids will be healthier if exposed to fresh air and sunshine during sleep, no matter the temperature. I love this tradition. My daughter naps in her crib still, but it has encouraged me to open her windows more often and get her outside as often as possible.

I learned about another type of snoozing, this one spelled snusing, which is the act of placing a type of moist Scandinavian snuff under the upper lip. The nicotine is absorbed into the user’s blood through mucous membranes in the lip, and because the snuff isn’t spat or smoked, no one even knows if you are using it. I’m not about to start snusing, but the mom who does this talked about how difficult it was to quit when there is no social pressure to make you stop, because no one sees you doing it. I identified with this completely, when I thought of the stash of chocolate chips I keep hidden around the house for when I need my own secret fix.

The moms in the group often discuss the importance of balance. The subject surfaces when discussing the work hours our husbands keep. The work hours of the Canadians and Americans are much longer than the hours kept by the Europeans. Do long work hours signal dedication and hard work, or an unhealthy relationship with your family? Do shorter hours signal shiftlessness or a sign that happiness, health and family are higher priorities? Who knows? It is an interesting topic to mull over while your kids jump themselves to oblivion on a trampoline.

Perhaps the most important lesson I’ve learned from watching other moms interact with their kids is that my daughter is capable of more than I believe her to be. Many moms in the group were comfortable letting their kids wander at least 3 meters farther from them than I was comfortable with. Their kids were carried less, allowed to use a knife, encouraged to go down the eight-foot big kid slide, and to whirl on the merry-go-round. To me, these activities seemed inappropriate for a fourteen month old, but the kids in the group around her age managed these tasks (with supervision, of course) and did so without cutting or breaking any body parts. These kids are self-reliant and independent. I am willing to have a few silent heart attacks, while my daughter climbs to higher heights on the playground than I think she is ready for, because I know both she and I will be the better for it.

I am so grateful for my Clarenville mom group, for the wisdom and cultural exposure they impart, and for the little town that brought us all together.

52:47

Newfoundland is

fond of yard sales.

We made $200 this weekend at our garage sale. We must have had about 150 people show up. 

I'm pretty excited about how well it went. I'm also surprised by how relaxing it was. We sat in the sunshine in my driveway and chatted while the little ones played around our feet.

I found this link very helpful for organizing our multi-family garage sale.

Audiobook Love

I love to make things. I love to play with my daughter. I love to keep my house organized and tidy.

I know when I'm doing these two things I should strive to be more Zen, and present, and just flow.

But I CAN'T.

My brain is crying out for stimulation.

To make my brain feel better without having the television on in the background, I've turned to podcasts and audiobooks.

It feels so good to finish a book, or learn something interesting, while emptying the dishwasher, folding clothes, or fishing tangled thread out of my sewing machine (I'm in the market for a new one, if anyone has a suggestion. I've had one too many machine-induced temper tantrums.)

This week I "read" The Great Gatsby, which for some reason wasn't required reading for my English class in high school. I loved listening to Fitzgerald's writing. Hearing it aloud gave it an entirely new dimension, and I'm thinking this might be the best way to accomplish #15 on my to-do list (to read the classic works of literature I really should have read as an English major/teacher a long time ago). More on that project to come later.

I also "read" Michael Pollan's Cooked: A Natural History of Transformation. He is one of my favorite non-fiction writers. However, I found his stuff to be definitely more enjoyable when you are reading it to yourself. His book is a fascinating look at the ways we cook using fire, water, air, and earth, and the ways our species used cooking to survive. I'd never thought of cooking as a form of pre-digesting our food before we eat it, but essentially that is what it is. Pollan explains that cooking is why humans don't have to spend six hours a day chewing and digesting and can instead focus on other things like building our civilization. It was incredibly interesting, and inspired me to attempt baking bread without using my bread machine (the recently added #42 on my to-do list) and get a move on with #20 make my own yogurt.

I need to dedicate an entire post to podcasts, which have been an addiction of mine for the past six years, but I don't have the time to really delve into it here.

I've decided to report on this blog what I'm reading, as a way to make sure I finish the thirty or so books that are sitting in my kindle untouched.

What have you been reading lately?