So I've been here one week shy of two months, and I'm finally getting busy. For the first time, I actually have work that I can put off in favor of other, less productive things. And that's a nice feeling. I'm doing a little writing, a little web design, and maybe -- if a deal goes through -- some video work as well. I'm getting less scared when people ask me for rates, and slightly less worried about the money we spend on dairy products. I placed my first essay last week, a piece about Finlay actually -- and that will be published about a month from now in the Newfoundland Quarterly.
Yes, my first paid writing in a year is an essay about my dog.
I've also been writing more frequently on that other blog I mentioned last time. There's no easy way to import those post 'cross platforms, so for more mutterings you can check it out or subscribe to the rss feed from the comfort of here.
Emily just left today for a conference in New Jersey, so it's just me and the hound till Sunday. I'm hoping to keep the house reasonably decent to avoid the standard kitchen full of dishes 'cause emily's gone. All data suggests that when I'm living alone, I take alarmingly little notice of pretty basic stuff -- like eating regularly, or cleaning up the potatoe peelings on the kitchen counter, or, in the case of this summer, the fact that I was yurt-mates with an increasingly bold mouse for about a month. I'd like to hope that if I'd been living solo all this time I would have gotten fed up with squalor -- but I can't honestly be sure. Case in point -- something in my office smells really bad, and it has for about 2 weeks now. I'm still not sure what it is, but I might get around to exploring the issue one of these days.
Until then,
m.a.c
November 04, 2009
October 28, 2009
More differences from life in Canada!
They don't have cooking wine and milk is freakin expensive. I wanted to buy a box of franzia for a risotto, so naturally I went to the cleverly named Liquor Store -- which is pretty much the only place to get alcohol around here. Convenience stores sell beer, but apparently that's something really exciting. Other provinces don't even allow that. Anyway. I went, and started looking for the cheap box wine section, as one does. Nothing. I figured maybe it was stashed under American Wine. No dice. They had nice American wines, and even some of the good old standbys. I was going to suck it up and spring for a gallon of Carlo when I saw the price. $32 ‽ My god! So I asked a one of the guys moving cases around. Turns out, cheap cheap wine doesn't exist, and I had to make due with an $8 bottle of Canadian White. Of all the things to not have.
Milk is something we do have here, and something we always have in the house. But I realized the other day, after an especially cringe inducing grocery store checkout, that dairy products make up a good percentage of what we spend on food. Milk is $3.77 a half gallon. More than double what it is in Maine right now. A bag of the cheapest shredded cheese around is $6. And we're talking no name brand here.
no name is great though. Simple yellow packaging that tells it like it is with a price tag to match. The American Cheese we buy for Finlay is just billed as "processed cheese product." Apparently, canadians just call it sliced cheese -- our friends had never heard of anything called American cheese. Odd that we would have to call it that in the states. But as I was saying. Dairy is easily our single biggest expense. Followed by vegetables, and, pretty much, everything else.
Apart from grocery trips and quips, life goes on. I've been finding a little more work, and you can all look forward to my work as a photographer for cstore life -- the trade magazine of convenience stores in Canada.
I should also mention that I now have another blog, slightly more impersonal, and attached to my own personal website. Feel free to look at that if you want something other than news about life in Canada.
Milk is something we do have here, and something we always have in the house. But I realized the other day, after an especially cringe inducing grocery store checkout, that dairy products make up a good percentage of what we spend on food. Milk is $3.77 a half gallon. More than double what it is in Maine right now. A bag of the cheapest shredded cheese around is $6. And we're talking no name brand here.
no name is great though. Simple yellow packaging that tells it like it is with a price tag to match. The American Cheese we buy for Finlay is just billed as "processed cheese product." Apparently, canadians just call it sliced cheese -- our friends had never heard of anything called American cheese. Odd that we would have to call it that in the states. But as I was saying. Dairy is easily our single biggest expense. Followed by vegetables, and, pretty much, everything else.
Apart from grocery trips and quips, life goes on. I've been finding a little more work, and you can all look forward to my work as a photographer for cstore life -- the trade magazine of convenience stores in Canada.
I should also mention that I now have another blog, slightly more impersonal, and attached to my own personal website. Feel free to look at that if you want something other than news about life in Canada.
October 20, 2009
My dog is pretty adorable
The day after I got to Newfoundland, we got Finlay. He's a rescue beagle, from a shelter called Beagle Paws, which takes in beagles from all over, and sets them up with nice people. Beagles have a long history in Newfoundland as hunting dogs more than anything else. They also face a good amount of prejudice. Folks will keep them underfed and penned up outside -- the better to chase bunny rabbits and the like.
We don't know much about Finlay. He's a year and a half or so, and scared of doors, canoe paddles, and sudden movement. His name means "fair haired warrior," or alternately, "the brave one." Because he's so skittish, we've been pretty slow with the training (his being a beagle certainly doesn't help matters in that quarter) but things are coming along slowly. He doesn't pull quite so much anymore, and he's getting pretty good at sitting down. This is a new development, one he's pretty proud of. When we go out for walks these days, he'll look back at me, expectantly, as if saying "now is there something you'd like me to do?"
Since I've been "working" from home, we spend most of our time together -- me typing, him curled up on the floor. Every hour or so we take a trip downstairs for some fresh tea and a treat.
Our house is right on a river-side walking path (the subject of another post, one of these days) so we get to spend a lot of time walking down by the river. Finlay looks at the ducks, and I wish that the air temperature were above 40, and that the river wasn't full of old concrete blocks.
We were fostering Finlay for the first six weeks I was here, but on Saturday, after a morning trip to wal-mart and an afternoon playing bananagrams with some grad school folks who also happen to be fostering some beagles (yes, it was a puppy play date) we went back to beagle paws and signed some papers and gave them a check. Finlay is now Our Problem. Hopefully by next summer he will be brave enough to go canoeing happily, and trained enough to spend a little time off his lead. Until then, we're rarely separated by more than 6 feet, and I'm alright with that.
We don't know much about Finlay. He's a year and a half or so, and scared of doors, canoe paddles, and sudden movement. His name means "fair haired warrior," or alternately, "the brave one." Because he's so skittish, we've been pretty slow with the training (his being a beagle certainly doesn't help matters in that quarter) but things are coming along slowly. He doesn't pull quite so much anymore, and he's getting pretty good at sitting down. This is a new development, one he's pretty proud of. When we go out for walks these days, he'll look back at me, expectantly, as if saying "now is there something you'd like me to do?"
Since I've been "working" from home, we spend most of our time together -- me typing, him curled up on the floor. Every hour or so we take a trip downstairs for some fresh tea and a treat.
Our house is right on a river-side walking path (the subject of another post, one of these days) so we get to spend a lot of time walking down by the river. Finlay looks at the ducks, and I wish that the air temperature were above 40, and that the river wasn't full of old concrete blocks.
We were fostering Finlay for the first six weeks I was here, but on Saturday, after a morning trip to wal-mart and an afternoon playing bananagrams with some grad school folks who also happen to be fostering some beagles (yes, it was a puppy play date) we went back to beagle paws and signed some papers and gave them a check. Finlay is now Our Problem. Hopefully by next summer he will be brave enough to go canoeing happily, and trained enough to spend a little time off his lead. Until then, we're rarely separated by more than 6 feet, and I'm alright with that.
October 08, 2009
Bulk Barn Is Truly Amazing
I lied when I said they didn’t have dried black beans in Newfoundland. I just didn’t know where to look. Since I last wrote, we have made the most marvelous discovery. It’s called Bulk Barn. I first went in looking for canned soup. I figured the store would have pallets of cans and things that nobody wanted, like Caswell's in Waterville. I was so wrong. The only thing they didn’t have was soup. Everything else, they had, including specialty cake pans (if you wanted a cake shaped like Aladdin’s palace, say) for rent $1.99 per rental, no late fees.
This is how it works. Bulk Barn buys everything it can in bulk, then it dumps the product into bins and sells everything by weight. This is like, penny candy on steroids. There’s Candy, dried fruit, nuts, seeds, crackers, chips, pasta, rices, flour (oh what flour), spices, cookies, dog food, cat food, bird seed, honey, peanut butter, and so much more. Including dried beans. We’re not talking like a bin of white flour here, we’re talking maybe 25 kinds of flour: unbleached all purpose, unbleached hard bread, unbleached soft bread, wheat, whole grain, gluten and so on. Including an entire section of gluten free flours (not that I need them, but still) with everything from rice flour to soy flour to coconut flour.
And that kind of variety for EVERYTHING. It’s amazing. Emily and I went back after my initial discovery, and after gleefully pointing out everything delicious, got down to some serious shopping. We spent $86 dollars there (using her 10% Wednesday student discount) and came home ready for a food shortage on the island.
Thank you Canada!
This is how it works. Bulk Barn buys everything it can in bulk, then it dumps the product into bins and sells everything by weight. This is like, penny candy on steroids. There’s Candy, dried fruit, nuts, seeds, crackers, chips, pasta, rices, flour (oh what flour), spices, cookies, dog food, cat food, bird seed, honey, peanut butter, and so much more. Including dried beans. We’re not talking like a bin of white flour here, we’re talking maybe 25 kinds of flour: unbleached all purpose, unbleached hard bread, unbleached soft bread, wheat, whole grain, gluten and so on. Including an entire section of gluten free flours (not that I need them, but still) with everything from rice flour to soy flour to coconut flour.
And that kind of variety for EVERYTHING. It’s amazing. Emily and I went back after my initial discovery, and after gleefully pointing out everything delicious, got down to some serious shopping. We spent $86 dollars there (using her 10% Wednesday student discount) and came home ready for a food shortage on the island.
Thank you Canada!
September 29, 2009
Posting from as far east as you can get
The Last ten months in four sentences. I worked for Maine Hut's and Trail's, cooking, cleaning, and doing lots of reading. Then I became a Registered Maine Raft Guide and worked in The Forks all summer. I'm working on starting a tea company with my folks. Now I'm in St. John's, Newfoundland, living with Emily.
So about that. It's nice up here. St. John's is about the size of Portland (Maine), with an old old downtown and a helluva lot of new development. Irving is from here, and there's actually a housing shortage. We're lucky to have this house. We're fostering a rescued beagle named Finlay. Emily is going to Grad school at Memorial University (If I don't find a job, I might apply to go there next year).
Right now I spend most of my time at home, hanging out with the dog, looking for a job. Working on the packaging for the Tea Company. I'm going to try to write about life up here on the edge of North America, when something interesting happens, or maybe just every couple weeks or so.
Life here in Newfoundland (emphasis on the last syllable) is not really that different, but there are a few things that stand out after a couple weeks here. Some things, are however, inexplicably different. There are no dried black beans. There are no gallons of milk (just 2 liter cartons. But perhaps oddest of all, there's no such thing as a visa debit card.
I was out last week, and needed some cash. No problem, right? I went to the drug store, bought a candy bar, handed my debit card to the lady behind the cash register. I'd like $40 back I said. She ignored me, rang up the Three Musketeers bar (at $1.40 hardly an inexpensive purchase), and handed me a receipt to sign. No, I said, I wanted cash back... Oh, well, see, it's a visa, see, and we don't do cash back on those. Alright, I said, where's the nearest ATM? Just up the street bout a minute.
I ate my candy bar on the way. The ATM didn't like my primary debit card, nor did it like my backup. I went to the woman in charge of the store. The ATM won't give me money, I told her. She came over, and watched me try again. Ah -- well there's your problem, she told me after I'd indicated that I wanted to withdraw from checking. You're trying to take it out of checking, and it's a visa. Right, I said, a visa debit card, see it says right here. No no, she told me solemnly, we don't have Visa debit cards here.
So about that. It's nice up here. St. John's is about the size of Portland (Maine), with an old old downtown and a helluva lot of new development. Irving is from here, and there's actually a housing shortage. We're lucky to have this house. We're fostering a rescued beagle named Finlay. Emily is going to Grad school at Memorial University (If I don't find a job, I might apply to go there next year).
Right now I spend most of my time at home, hanging out with the dog, looking for a job. Working on the packaging for the Tea Company. I'm going to try to write about life up here on the edge of North America, when something interesting happens, or maybe just every couple weeks or so.
Life here in Newfoundland (emphasis on the last syllable) is not really that different, but there are a few things that stand out after a couple weeks here. Some things, are however, inexplicably different. There are no dried black beans. There are no gallons of milk (just 2 liter cartons. But perhaps oddest of all, there's no such thing as a visa debit card.
I was out last week, and needed some cash. No problem, right? I went to the drug store, bought a candy bar, handed my debit card to the lady behind the cash register. I'd like $40 back I said. She ignored me, rang up the Three Musketeers bar (at $1.40 hardly an inexpensive purchase), and handed me a receipt to sign. No, I said, I wanted cash back... Oh, well, see, it's a visa, see, and we don't do cash back on those. Alright, I said, where's the nearest ATM? Just up the street bout a minute.
I ate my candy bar on the way. The ATM didn't like my primary debit card, nor did it like my backup. I went to the woman in charge of the store. The ATM won't give me money, I told her. She came over, and watched me try again. Ah -- well there's your problem, she told me after I'd indicated that I wanted to withdraw from checking. You're trying to take it out of checking, and it's a visa. Right, I said, a visa debit card, see it says right here. No no, she told me solemnly, we don't have Visa debit cards here.
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