a peek inside the fishbowl

We drove to Barrie for a funeral yesterday. I don’t feel right writing about it in this space because the story of this life isn’t really mine to share. I am really only mentioning it in terms of context, but I will say that yesterday was a very long day and that the world is sadly deprived of a pretty great fellow and his generosity, his kindness, and his joy for living. I like to remember our fellow as someone who loved a really good joke. He loved to laugh and to make others laugh, and this is one of the things I am certain many other people will be missing too.

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When we bought our Prius we received two key fobs. As the salesman handed them over to us he half-jokingly warned us about losing them. Fer chrissakes don’t lose these things, he laughed. They are EXPENSIVE TO REPLACE.

You see, these aren’t car keys in the traditional sense. You can’t take the fob and stick it in a lock or in the ignition. You can’t make a copy of it. This is TECHNOLOGY OF THE FUTURE. These “keys” are small black devices that contain a sensor. When the sensor is near the car it can be unlocked and started. This is incredibly convenient because it essentially means that I leave the thing in my purse and never take it out.

We lost one of the fobs over a year ago. Mark blamed me because I’m apparently the scatterbrained one who has a history of losing keys. We looked everywhere for it – in every coat and pant pocket and every bag and purse. We were told it would cost $300 to replace so we held off ordering a new fob because of the expense.

In May 2012 we up packed our entire house in preparation for our move. We thought the missing fob would make an appearance at that point but it didn’t. Then we thought it would resurface during the unpacking stage. It didn’t. And so, for about a year, we’ve been sharing one fob. This has had its challenges as you can imagine, like the time I had to drive one of the kids to an orthodontist appointment and Mark realized he had the fob in his coat pocket when he was already almost at his bus stop, a 10-minute walk away.

So yes. We’ve had to make do with the one fob.

After the funeral service yesterday the four of us found ourselves standing around our car in the parking lot, getting ready for the long trip back to Ottawa. The tears had been shed and the music was still ringing in our ears and our stomachs were full of soft-bread sandwiches and tiny desserts and the sun was beating down on our shoulders… and that’s when Mark and I reached into our pockets for the fob to open the trunk.

And each of us pulled one out.

We both stared at the fobs in our hands. WHAT! WHY! HOW THE HECK ..!?!?!

There were two fobs! We gawped for a moment and burst into laughter. The missing fob had been in his suit pocket all along. And had been there since the last time he wore it… to a different funeral.

I felt like the fellow who wasn’t with us – the one whose life we had just commemorated with stories and song – was laughing right along with us. Or maybe it was him who showed it us the key that had been lost for so long. I’m not sure, but I like to think that he had something to do with it. And now I’m sitting here with a giant lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. What does all of this mean? The key to living, the key to dying, that goddamn key to the car that had been gone for so long.

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On the drive back to Ottawa we found ourselves looking for the shoe tree. If you’ve driven down certain winding two lane highways you may know what I’m already talking about. Sadly, we never found the tree, but I did find a blog post about the very one we were looking for in case you’re curious as to the nature of our search.

We did come across something kind of sweet along the way: the World’s Smallest Bookstore. (That’s its official title by the way.) It was a good find on such a long long day. The sun was just about to set, the forests that stood sentry along the highway were darkening, and then this:

We were actually hoping for comic books, but that’s not the kind of thing they sell here.

The tools of the trade are simple: pens, paper, lightbulbs, and a label-maker:

This is the kind of place in which transactions operate on the honour system:

And this was kind of neat too (you can see a larger version of this pic here):

Shoppers were asked to jot down which book they bought. And they did. There were sheets and sheets like this:

We browsed the shelves but were soon chased away by mosquitos and a pressing need to get back on the road. We didn’t buy anything, but were glad to have the opportunity to poke around. Books on the honour system… I think our fellow would have liked that.

My latest bowl of goodness for the Daily Lunches project was so good I wanted to share the recipe here. Here’s the original recipe, and below is the one I made:

For some reason I have an orange bias as it pertains to savoury salads (I have no idea why) and when I embarked on this recipe I wasn’t sure if it was going to work. But you know what, it DID. I was pleasantly surprised.

Here’s how I ended up making it:

The quinoa part

• 1 cup uncooked quinoa, cooked according the package instructions

The salad part

• 1 large orange
• 1 can black beans, rinsed and drained
• 1 stalk celery, diced
• 1/3 cup chopped cilantro
• 1/4 of a red onion, diced (to taste)
• 1/2 red thai chili pepper, diced finely (optional)

And the dressing

• 1 tablespoon orange zest
• 3 tablespoons orange juice
• 2 teaspoons apple cider vinegar
• 1 teaspoon honey
• ½ teaspoon ground coriander seed
• ½ teaspoon salt
• freshly ground black pepper (to taste)
• ¼ cup olive oil

1) Start by preparing the quinoa. Cook it according the package instructions. (If you happen to get yours from the bulk store, note that for every cup of dry quinoa you need 2 cups of water.) Once it’s cooked, remove from the cooking pot to a bowl to cool slightly before adding the other ingredients.

2) Wash the orange and zest it. I use a rasp for this and it works really well. Using a sharp knife, cut the remaining peel off the orange and slice the orange into segments.

3) Make the dressing in a large bowl and stir well to combine. You’ll be adding the other ingredients straight into the dressing as the quinoa cools down.

4) Add the black beans to the bowl that has your dressing in it, along with the diced celery, cilantro, red onion, chili pepper, and orange segments. Stir to combine. Leave it for awhile if your quinoa is still hot.

5) Add your cooled quinoa.

I prefer this salad served at room temperature. It’s also really good the next day when the flavours settle a little bit.

p.s Have you been following the Daily Lunches? You can see all the accumulated photos right here.

I think it’s really interesting that blogging means so many different things to so many different people. For some people it is a journal, a catharsis, a means of connecting with the world. For others it’s about coupon clipping and deal-getting. A blog might be a scrapbook, or gainful employment, or a way to find support.

For me, blogging has primarily been an artistic endeavour, albeit one that leans into all of those other categories from time to time. I know this is an abstract way of thinking, but that’s how I see it in my head.

Is blogging an art form? I think so. If art is defined as self expression, I think it can certainly be argued that blogging is art. There is, after all, an art to blogging. Just like someone can pick up a brush and express themselves with paint on canvas, I can do the same using digital tools to weave a picture out of words, sound, photo, and video. And it’s a picture that grows a little bit every day.

I think that if you pour yourself into something, and it’s truly the work of your hand working in tandem with your head and your heart, it must be art. If an artist took a giant canvas and painted something on it every day for the rest of her life, is it art? What if she decoupaged the odd receipt or bus ticket or photo in there. Is it still art?

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Some of you may already know that I’m hosting a roundtable at Social Capital Conference this weekend. (There are still a few tickets left. You can pick one up here!) I was on the steering committee for the first two years – and had a variety of responsibilities in that capacity – but I had the most fun as roundtable host so that’s what I’ve returned to in the 2013 edition.

I’ll be taking a few pages out of my blog coaching gig and heading up the discussion at the Blogging 201 roundtable. I’ve done something similar in past conferences and it’s always a great conversation and a huge learning experience for all involved, including myself. I’m thrilled to be able to share the secrets of my successes and failures with others.

Perhaps I am scooping myself here but one of the points I’d like to make at the Social Capital on Saturday is there is truly no wrong way to blog. I think too many bloggers worry that they’re doing it wrong, when they should just be DOING. You know what I mean?  There are “best practices” and tips and tools that might help you reach your goals, but it’s too easy to get bogged down in what the experts say. For example, that

• every blog post needs to have a photo
• every blog post must clock in under 600 words
• every blog post must be posted on a weekday around lunchtime

If you spend too much time worrying about the details, you’re not spending the time and energy being creative and creating content.

There are good blogs, and there are bad blogs, but this is totally subjective. It’s only my opinion whether a blog is good or bad or pretty or ugly or inspiring or a total snoozefest. I might not follow your blog because I’m not interested in giveaways for diaper creams and baby toys, but other people do. Who cares what I think?

When I’m wearing my blog coach hat I ask my clients if THEY like their blog. Do they like the appearance? The way that the information is presented? The image they are formulating of themselves with every post? This is really all that matters.

There is no wrong way to blog or to be a blogger but you know what sucks the joy and life out of me? Petty jealousy, grandstanding, ego, and drama. What a waste of time and energy, and it makes me feel drained and disenchanted, and I don’t take time out of my life for it anymore.

Although there is no wrong way to blog, I think there is a GOOD way to blog. But as I sit here I wonder whether it bears repeating because it’s just so darn obvious. Is it worth reminding people to be kind and respectful? To treat others as they would like to be treated? To understand that everyone is different and that’s why it’s a good idea to refrain from judgment? To be happy for other people’s successes instead of being envious of them?

A GOOD way to blog is to be true to yourself. If you are true to yourself you will be happy and productive. If you force yourself to be someone you are not you will start to feel empty inside and it will show in your writing, and if you’ve worked hard to grow your audience you will slowly see it seep away because you’re too busy being a pretender as opposed to being The Real You.

What do you think? Anyone care to chime in on this one? :)