a peek inside the fishbowl

28 Oct, 2014

Litebook revisited

By andrea tomkins in Oh! Things!

I was singing the shower this morning. SINGING. I stopped myself, mid chorus, with a shampoo bottle in my hand. Who is this person? And when’s the last time she spontaneously belted out some Dexy’s Midnight Runners?

And then it dawned on me. Singing in the shower, to me, is a symptom of happiness, the kind that comes with having a bit of energy to spare, even on a day as grey as today.

I’ve written about my Litebook before, but now that it’s fall and I’m back at it I thought it deserved another mention, especially since I listed it in my “editor’s faves” column in the November issue of Capital Parent Newspaper (which you can read right here).

During my research for the column I discovered that my old Litebook is now obsolete. (Mark actually bought one for my birthday this year, which is GOOD because I needed one but kinda sucks because the new Litebook Edge looks kinda great. Oh well. It isn’t the only name out there by the way. There are lots of light therapy options on Amazon although I can’t speak for those other brands.)

Have you ever thought about how great you feel on a nice bright sunny day? On sunny days I have extra spring in my step, and a smile on my face. And I’m more likely to be better at dealing with life’s challenges.

The Litebook is essentially a wee spotlight that folds open and sits on a desk. (The girls jokingly refer to it as a bat signal. If we added a black cut out bat shape they wouldn’t be too far off.) It’s essentially a ray of sunlight without the UV. For me, the Litebook has become a bit of a life fixer upper. It gives me energy and wakes me up, and helps me be happier person. (You can read much more about the benefits of light therapy here.)

Every morning I sit down with a cup of coffee and read the news for 30 minutes while the light shines in my face. And then I hit the treadmill. I do this every day and will continue to do so through until the Spring. Why? Because sometimes I need to put myself first, because when I start to fall apart, my world seems to fall apart around me.

But what does it mean exactly when I say that time spent in front of my Litebook gives me extra energy? It means I bake a loaf of banana bread instead of chucking the spotty bananas straight into the compost. It means I walk down the drugstore to pick up a few things instead of driving. It means I’m a better parent. It means I pack a lunch instead of getting take out. It means I tidy up the mudroom instead of stepping over shoes and backpacks. It means I am less grumpy, spend more time on the treadmill, am prone to sudden fits of dance, and generally Feel Better About Almost Everything.

I catch myself doing things I haven’t done in awhile, and I think, yes, that’s the old Andrea. And to tell you the truth, I like the old, silly, happy Andrea. I like her a lot.

This doesn’t mean that all of my health problems are solved. I have made an appointment to see my doctor about a few things, but this extra bit of light in my day goes a long way to improving my daily life and my outlook.

 

26 Oct, 2014

The history of our house

By andrea tomkins in Home/reno

Our house, fall 2014

I think there’s value in knowing how we once lived.

How can you move forward if you don’t ever look back? How can you be proud of your community if you don’t know how it has evolved and changed? This is something I think a lot about, especially in my role with our neighbourhood newspaper. In terms of the stories we share with our readers, it is a fine balance, the now and then. I do like that the publication is contemporary and forward-thinking with an occasional glance backwards. There is room for a glimpse into the past in order to remember – and celebrate – the journey and the places from which we came.

I first heard of Dave Allston’s House Histories a few years ago during Westfest. He had a wee display table, decorated with maps and books, and a large aerial photo that included a view of our street. A small group of people had collected around him, presumably to talk about the good old days and learn more about the early days of their community. It was then that I found out that he farms out his sleuthing services to homeowners who want to learn about the history of their home.

So this past summer I hired Dave to research a history of our home as a gift to Mark. This was something Mark and I had been talking about for a long time, especially during our renovation. Our home was built in the early 40s, a “war time” model that is common in parts of Ottawa. I wondered about the families who lived here before we did. I’d find myself thinking about them while running my hand down the bannister that spans the stairs that lead up to the bedrooms. It sounds silly, but the bannister was one of the reasons I fell in love with this house when we first looked at it. It’s a solid piece of wood; thick and straight, with uneven brown tones throughout. I half wonder if it used to be thicker when it was originally set in place, but has been worn down by time and little hands clutching on to it as they make their way downstairs at night, and lighter touches just skimming it while running upstairs to check on a baby.

When we renovated I told our builder that no matter what, that bannister had to stay. We learned later, that the crew actually misplaced it for awhile, which resulted in an utter panic because they thought it may have been accidentally thrown out. (It was not.)

The reno provided a lot of blog fodder during the better part of a year, although not very much of it was historical in scope. Some of you may remember the note we found when our old kitchen cupboards were being torn out:

This was found behind our old cabinets!

We were amused and surprised. And mystified. Who were these people?

I can now say that this particular mystery was solved, thanks to Dave and the history he compiled of our home. Jonathan and Serafina Sebastyan Benson were just one of the many homeowners who lived here. They purchased our home on August 16, 1974. They paid $12,000 in cash and took over the existing mortgage balance of $35,000. Sadly, Jonathan passed away on May 19, 1977, less than two years after installing the cabinets. Serafina stayed on for awhile, until she sold it and moved on February 1978.

This story made me a little sad. Perhaps it’s the joy in that little note, those three exclamation marks. And having been through a reno, I know the feeling of accomplishment and renewal that comes with it. Jonathan enjoyed his new kitchen for such a short time. It reminds me that we have such a short time to enjoy the things – and the people – around us, and we don’t know how much time we have left. (Would he have bothered with new cabinets, the effort and expense, if he knew he only had two years left?)

There are many more little stories, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Dave’s book about our home actually begins a lot earlier than Jonathan and Serafina’s part in it. Our house history begins in the 1800s, when the only thing here was uninhabited scrub. The City of Ottawa didn’t exist when this book begins, and Nepean Township (because this area used to be Nepean) was only five years old when this first land grant was awarded to Thomas Gordon, an Irishman who arrived here by way of Albany, New York.

The book is laid out in chronological order, and it’s as much of a history of the area as it is a house history: going back to farming and logging days, and the later growth of the community. It also contains copies of clippings and little stories of the people who lived here, births and deaths, as well as information about a few other lots and houses on our street, which now makes me look at them a little differently when I walk by. Old real estate clippings are also fun to read:

Stop, look and listen. It's Highland Park!

And here’s a view of the Nepean High School when it was first built:

A new Nepean High School

And this was a surprise, an article that shows our home and some dangerous hedges:

Old newspaper article, from our house history

It turns out that our house was built by Charles Augustus Johannsen between 1941 and 1945. The price of the lot: $25. He was an active builder of custom homes in Ottawa, and together with his sons formed C.A. Johannsen & Sons. Our house took a few years to build and the first occupants were Jack and Frances Johannsen (who were 21 and 18). Jack was the middle son, and apparently the young couple lived in the home very briefly, likely because Jack was shipped off to war. It’s worth noting that the couple was listed in the assessment rollbook at the time as “carpenter” and MW, which stands for “married woman.”

C.A. Johannsen & Sons went on to become part of a real estate venture called Carleton Realty Company, which, through a federal deal born out of the Ottawa Home Builders Association, was responsible for the construction of those familiar war time homes across Ottawa in order to relieve a housing shortage.

This is really just skimming the surface of this fascinating collection that Dave presented to us. The binder has been passed around and we’ve all had a good read. Our own little family makes up the last chapter of the book. It’s neat to think that we’re a part of our own house history. Perhaps, when it’s time to move on, we’ll leave a copy of it for another couple who fall in love with our bannister and decide to call this their home too.

If you’d like information about your own Ottawa house history, you can find more information at Dave’s website at housestory.co.

25 Oct, 2014

Weekend reading: October 25 edition

By andrea tomkins in Weekend reading

Archives


  • alex: For a classic Canadian treat for valentine day , try a BeaverTail (a fried dough pastry) there its yummy
  • Juliet Luiz: I was at this park today and saw the foundation and historical sign which got me curious and let me to your blog post! Great information:) too bad t
  • Rowyn Tape: Hello, I was sitting at Easter dinner with my grandmother and she was telling me this story. She is Herbert Lytles daughter who eventually bought the
  • Bernie: I freeze ball sizes of bread dough for beavertails each winter season.Easy to thaw, roll out and fry. Best winter treat!
  • Jen_nifer: I feel very much the same about my SUP. Floating with snacks is fantastic! When I go on water with some current, I make sure that I paddle into the cu
  • sam: Great article. This is very insightful. Thanks for sharing
  • Renee: I just saw one yesterday on a small patch of grassy land near the Mann Ave 417 exit near Lees Station, Ottawa, ON. I had no idea they came in black!

The Obligatory Blurb

My name is Andrea and I live in Ottawa with my husband Mark and our dog Sunny who is kind of a big deal on Instagram. During the day I work as a freelance writer. I am a longtime Ottawa blogger and I've occupied this little corner of the WWW since 1999. The Fishbowl is my whiteboard, water cooler, and journal, all rolled into one. I'm passionate about healthy living, arts and culture, travel, great gear, good food, and sharing the best of Ottawa. I also love vegetables, photography, gadgets, and great design.

If you're so inclined, you can read more about me here.

I've deactivated the commenting function as well as my contact form so if you want to get in touch, please drop me a line at quietfish@gmail.com. Thank you!

 


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