This weekend was home made waffles and glasses and thrift shopping. It was finding out that one of my best friends in the world will be moving into a beautiful house five blocks away from me. It was scheming about meeting up for ice cream and lemon aid and bike rides. It wasn’t a blazer, but it was a cheesy Christmas cardigan. It was being woken up by the puppies at 5 AM on a Saturday, followed by seven puppy accidents in the house before noon, and blankets and boots and jumping through the snow.

It was planning holidays for next year and weighing the benefits of staying with my current work for another year so we can take two holidays next year (and finally get a honeymoon!!) versus perusing more challenging work. It was not receiving my SIN card of birth certificate back in the mail, which canceled our post-Christmas trip to Minneapolis. It was old fashioned mail.

This weekend was Mister falling down the stairs and hurting himself, it was limping and hopping and icing and concern. It was losing our internet connection on Saturday morning and not regaining it until 7:58 AM on Monday. It was French fashion magazines, making butter tarts, and shopping for Christmas cookie supplies. It was dinner out and a late night run down town to buy presents for each other. It was puppies barrleing upstairs to find me and leaping over a foot into the air when they found me.

It was too cold. It was almost Christmas. It was kind of perfect.

Living in our first house has taken more getting used to than I thought it would. In spite of our crazy budgeting and years of saving to make this move, it has been more expensive than we thought it would be. The weather in Winnipeg has been unseasonably cold lately, making it -27° C (-17° F) without the wind chill and feeling like -46° C (-50° F) to your skin, and has made our heating bill jump through the roof - but there is nothing about living here when it’s like this that doesn’t make you feel heroic and thankful to be inside.

But in spite of the heating costs, the new house is really quite dreamy.

It’s full of nooks and crannies where the light seeps in…

And then there’s the antique clawfoot tub that has made every evening just a little more luxurious…

But what has struck me the most has been living in a neighbourhood. My apartments have always been well inside the city, but on major roads. There might be a grocery store or drug store 10 mins. away, but other than that I’ve been off the beaten path - and I didn’t realize how much of a difference a neighbourhood makes.

I can walk to get groceries, ice cream or flowers. There are local restaurants, a library and community centre, cafes, video rental stores, and schools. There are parks and river walks, and we’re right in the middle of the city. My hairstylist lives 5 blocks from me, and her business is next door to a sweet little thrift store. On the way home from my appointment I can buy a $2.00 lemon tart from our local bakery, or say hello to the kittens that the florist has taken in. And the people here know me already.

We’re on the edge of a very old established neighbourhood, on the block where the smaller homes begin and the lower income families live. We are known as “Ash & Mal’s owners”, and have befriended other families who are renovating their 100 year+ homes while the infill homes are built up down the block. On the next block over there is a huge foster home where two little Aboriginal girls have adopted me and the puppies, and we often end up walking to their school together at lunch time. There are families of too many nationalities to count who own businesses in the area, and when I mention my maiden name (HA! Remember when I was a maiden? Me neither.) many of the shop owners were taught high school by my grandfather.

The feeling of connection here is very present and very real. It does my heart good to finally have enough room for my friends to tuck in out of the cold and into our living room, or to spend the afternoon under blankets watching The Day The Earth Stood Still and other black and white sci-fi films with Mister. It does my heart good to know that we don’t have to leave. The move to my first house was my tenth time moving house in my little life - it does my heart good to know that for once, I can relax, and that we can stay.

Speaking of yesterday’s post, any haircut I survive relatively unscaled is a huge victory!

Before…

After…

I’m really enjoying the change & have banished my flat iron for a while. I’m not regressing if I’m rocking curly hair and straight bangs, am I?

Didn’t think so. It’s 80’s chic.

Halloween ended up being a lot of fun - Mister took the day off work so that when I got home the house was thoroughly decorated and I couldn’t intervene at any point! I got out of the car when we got home and almost fell over laughing. It was amazing - hands coming out of graves, elaborate gravestones, and a motorized ghost pacing back and forth between our porch and the nearest tree. The whole thing. It was priceless.

Princess Peach stencil from Zombie Pumpkins

My finished Peach

Mister’s Bowser

A flurry of carving ensued, along with a flurry of drinking red wine, watching of Evil Dead 2 and handing out to trick or treaters. In all we had maybe 40 kids. Apparently the elementary school kids at the THREE elementary schools by us are too cool for free candy. One of my friends who teaches gymnastics was laughed at by the 11 year olds he teaches when he asked if they were going out for Halloween - they were going to a house party.

I bet they are. That was called a SLEEPOVER in my time. Don’t pretend y’all don’t have matching backpacks.

In spite of the low trick or treater turn out the night was wonderful. I so rarely let myself just be and just enjoy - I’m always mentally pacing around, attempting to force myself forward towards something else that when I embrace the opportunity to just calm down it’s a huge relief.

Over the past month since the wedding questions from family and friends, and from me, have slowly turned from “how are you doing?” to “are you going to grad school?” - a question that’s extremely hared for me to reckon with. Can we handle the loss of income? Would it be worthwhile? And the question that I always manage to leave out of the equation is somehow: do I want that for myself?

For me, formal education is closely tied to self worth, as soon as I got my BA the questions started - where was I going to grad school? From job to job, it was the same - first asking how the position was and what I was learning, but it was always followed by questions about when was I going to get on with the next stage of my life. And no matter how well intended the implication is always that it’s something that I’m going to do. It’s just how my family is, and part of how I am. I was always told I was smart - and that I should go do something huge and earth shattering with that immediately. Probably as of 10 minutes ago. A quiet happy life isn’t worthwhile - you have to be out there in front of the pack making things happen.

But that way of living has never quite resonated with me. And to make things more complicated - I like my life right now. I love where we live, and I like my job - it’s not great but it’s good, especially for where I am in life. We make a living. We budget. We have a lot of fun, actually. I look forward to coming home every day. But at the same time I struggle with appreciating everything I’ve worked for because every inch of my brain keeps shouting “BUT WHERE DOES BEING HAPPY TAKE YOU? GET INTO SCHOOL AGAIN, FAST.”.

So my weekends are frustration and tears, trying to figure out what’s best for me, for us, and for who I’ll be 7 years from now. By the time Monday comes I’m more exhausted than I was on Friday, except now I’m also dreading work. In spite of all the happiness I trap myself in what if’s and when’s, and make myself miserable. Never mind how concerned the poor young gentleman I live with must be.

This is what I know:

I don’t know when this job will stop being right for me. I don’t know where my current situation will lead. For right now, I want to enjoy what I have instead of torturing myself about when things are going to change and how I can start bracing myself for it now.

I know that there are lots of different ways to gain experience and knowledge, and that I don’t want to lock into a 3+ year program at this moment in time. I want to explore all the opportunities I have right now, and I want to have fun. I want to enjoy what I’ve worked at for the past year and see what happens.

If that means a simple life without earth shattering bursts of academic glory, then I’m up for that. I have other dreams that are just as valid - I want to own my own business and work my fingers to the bone - and honestly, in the mean time I’m okay with simple. It’s going to be a battle for me to relax into it, but I have a long winter ahead of me to work on it, and me.

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This weekend I switched over to self hosting (yay!) in a totally uneventful (double yay!!) transition. Over the next few weeks I’m working with the lovely So Chic Design to give me a proper home online and in the mean time I’ve got some pretty cute digs - and a links page that more accurately reflects who I’m reading. Enjoy!

This weekend was…

The week after we moved into our home in July our washer and dryer were delivered to replace what you see at stage right there (far left). And they didn’t fit in our basement. We put re-purchasing off, calling it a savings, until last week Mister informed me that the old dryer in the basement had moved into the Denial stage of grieving and, while it wouldn’t admit it was dying, was now taking FOUR HOURS to bring our clothes to 75% dry.

I believe on the information superhighway, we call that a “fail”.

We went out last week and bit the bullet in the form of a basement friendly condo sized washer and dryer - fancy and front loading too! The before and after smells of our clothes, bedding and towels will not be mentioned here. Suffice it to say that everything we own was washed in very hot water this weekend, and came out feeling like new.

On Saturday, after the delivery we took on a spur of the moment re-ducting project for the dryer venting so it wouldn’t be made of papier-mâché and kindling anymore, and after seven hours of off and on DIY ducting we are still married. Which, I think, is called a “win” on the internet.

As nice as it Thanksgiving dinner was, it is more fun when someone else makes it. Just, flat out. This is something your mom should be doing, no matter what phase of life you’re in. If you’re really smart, you and your mom might be able to get someone elses mom to make it, which would be even better.

Ours was our first Thanksgiving alone - and our first holiday as newly weds. It was cute, we drank a lot of wine. I had tofurkey, The Mister ate pork - we had home made cream of pumpkin soup (I peeled a pumpkin with a knife, which is exactly as much fun as it sounds like, which explains my indifference to this Thanksgiving dinner), home made coleslaw, stuffing, apple and potato dumplings, cranberry jelly, mashed potatoes, pumpkin pie and the whole shabang! Next weekend is round two at my mom’s house. I anticipate that I’m going to enjoy it on a different level because of the lack of cooking involved.

This whole weekend was been about getting over my flu, and following that - rest. I’ve started knitting again, and I’m making an up and down luxurious little cream coloured cowl (above) for the store.

I started thinking hard this weekend about what makes me happy and what I’m thankful for, and as the wedding pictures have finally come in I spent a lot of time thumbing through them and remembering the wedding, only two weeks ago! How can that be?

I am so incredibly lucky, but I feel like so much has happened this year my capacity to absorb it all has been ramped down. I am tired so much of the time these days, work drags, I’ve been dodging my fair share of duties at home, and during the day I’m constantly rushing about, shuttling to and from work on the busses and trying to lose myself in the world of fashion blogs and Etsy on my iPhone between stops.

For Thanksgiving, I’m resolving to be thankful more. To walk the dogs with my husband. To not blow work frustrations out of proportion. To slow down and do things that make me happy. To say no if I’m feeling like going out five times in a week is going to put me in bed for the weekend. To not lose it if I’m having panic attacks here and there, because I’m probably always going to have them here and there. To go out to shows that come my way.

I’m going to attempt making lots of little choices that will hopefully make me feel more rested, and happier. Every day, I’m just going to chip away until things feel more manageable. Here’s hoping that’s sooner than later, for the sake of those who have to live with me!

This weekend was…..

Two Croque-madames, best sandwich in the world

Guest Posting at Who’s Your Dachshund

Thrift Shopping in my sister’s closet

Lots of Puppy Posing

And a Kyla Bea shaped addition to Alltop!

Hope yours was just as sunny! Did you get up to anything fun that you didn’t twitter about?