beeswax candles & honey

I have a beeswax candle on my desk that I often light when I work. I like the way it looks (the warm rich yellow) and I like the way it smells (like my grandmother, weirdly); and it's nice to have a little flickering light on my desk as I work when it's stormy outside.

Mary's favourite honey is: "Wilson's honey, available at the Kingston (Ontario) farmers market and the Belleville farmers market on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays." Mary gave me some of this honey in the comb last summer and it was delicious: delicate and flavourful and chewy.

the first sip of a bridgehead latte & coffee

A huge gap in my posting these past ten days or so. I won't even try to catch up (as I sometimes have when I've missed three days). And so today's favourite thing was my first sip of Bridgehead coffee, standing at the counter in the cafe, after dropping Ben off at school in the pouring rain. I don't know why the first sip is so much better than every sip after (still good but not exquisite the way that first sip is). And I don't know why Bridgehead lattes are so much better than all other lattes. I ran into Daphne at Bridgehead once just after she'd returned from Europe (Europe!) and she said she always looked forward to coming home from abroad and getting coffee at Bridgehead because it just wasn't as good anywhere else.

Some of my favourite (or at least most memorable) coffee experiences: a perfectly hot and delicious coffee at a small hotel in Prague in the late 1980s when I was there with Ehud; coffee in a yellow mug that I made every morning for myself in Varaire with milk that was often still warm from the cow; coffee stops in Switzerland when Joel and I were hiking in the Alps; my first coffee in Italy when I was eighteen and the shock and thrill of how different it was from all other coffees I'd tried.

Oddly, at some point over the past fifteen years or so I've more or less stopped making coffee at home. But I used to be a finicky coffee-maker with an elaborate system that only I could execute; I always wanted my coffee "just so" and I enjoyed the ritual of it.

Several people mentioned coffee in the context of other things (usually reading). Miriam: "Long mornings in bed... with good coffee and the NY Times." Louise: "Drinking coffee on the dock at North Otter Lake on a summer morning (our cottage)." And Rick: " Really really good coffee and really really good book reading material, all on the porch."

grains, rice, and beans & rebar modern food cookbook

My favourite thing over the past few days has been making recipes from Kevin Graham's Grains, Rice, and Beans. This was the cookbook in which I found the "Spiced Lentils" recipe mentioned earlier and since then I've made polenta pizzas (delicious but not a success for a number of reasons mostly due to me) and "Spiced Cashew Sauce" (easy and delicious) among other things. I like this cookbook for the little tricks it teaches me in addition to the great recipes. But part of my pleasure in finding a new cookbook also stems from my pleasure in finding time to cook now that classes are over. When Michal came home from school on Thursday I told her I was making a new recipe that night and she rolled her eyes and said, "again?" And then I realized I'd made something new every night of the week.

Carol mentions the Rebar Modern Food Cookbook as her "favourite (new) cookbook"; I'll have to try that next.

sebald's austerlitz & photography

My favourite thing over the last few days has been rereading W. G. Sebald's novel, Austerlitz. It creates a world and texture of its own that is mesmerizing. I feel as if I fall into the cadences of the book and get absorbed into a completely different tempo of thought. I've always been perplexed by the contrast between Susan Sontag's deep appreciation for Sebald (and her great taste in writers in general) and her own novel (has she written more than one?) In America which is so surprisingly, the title notwithstanding, and strangely American in tone and style. Here's Sontag on Sebald: "Is literary greatness still possible? Given the implacable devolution of literary ambition, and the concurrent ascendancy of the tepid, the glib, and the senselessly cruel as normative fictional subjects, what would a noble literary enterprise look like now? One of the few answers available to English-language readers is the work of W. G. Sebald."

Sebald uses a lot of photographs in his novel (and Sontag, of course, often writes on photography) and so I thought I'd turn to the favourite things list for favourite photographers. And here was another interesting gap. No favourite photographers. Nor was photography itself listed by anyone as a favourite activity.

spring rain & "last night the rain spoke to me"

My favourite thing today was not the spring rain itself but Michal's delight in the rain. She was so happy when it started to pour and exclaimed: "I just love the rain!" Earlier a bunch of neighbourhood kids had been playing outside in the rain and got into a mud fight. Here's a picture of some of them:

After dinner Michal was frustrated that she had to do her Hebrew class because, as she put it, she felt like dancing in the rain. I like the rain too (the air smelled so full and rich) but it was Michal's pleasure that I liked the best today.

And because so many people mentioned Mary Oliver on the list I thought I'd include one of her rain poems here:

"Last Night the Rain Spoke to Me"

Last night

the rain

spoke to me

slowly, saying,

what joy

to come falling

out of the brisk cloud

to be happy again

in a new way

on the earth!

That's what it said

as it dropped,

smelling of iron,

and vanished

like a dream of the ocean

into the branches

and the grass below.

Then it was over.

The sky cleared.

I was standing

under a tree.

The tree was a tree

with happy leaves,

and I was myself,

and there were stars in the sky

that were also themselves

at the moment,

at which moment

my right hand

was holding my left hand

which was holding the tree

which was filled with stars

and the soft rain--

imagine! imagine!

the long and wondrous journeys

still to be ours.

first bike ride of spring & biking

Yesterday my favourite thing was getting on my bicycle for the first time this year. The air smelled of dirt, the wind was cool and fresh, and my bike was fast. I walk almost everywhere in the winter and it doesn't feel slow at all (I enjoy it)--but as soon as my bike is a transportation option again, walking becomes unthinkable. It is strange how sudden and unbending (even in heavy rain, even in cold wind) this change is.

(And two other bonus favourite things: meals with friends [I went out for lunch and I went out for dinner--definitely a marker of the end of term, the luxury of these leisurely meals and conversations]; a Chomsky talk at Carleton which was such an event.)

Biking was mentioned often on the favourite things list. Here are two examples, one general(ish) and one specific:

1) David M: "a good bike ride that explores and has an ocean swim bookending its exploration."

2) Pete H: "Bike ride to the ancient aquaducts outside Rome, followed by dinner and beer at Hang Zhou, a great Chinese restaurant in the Monti neighborhood of Rome."

And, for me, biking is one of those few things that would make it into my "top five." I'll have to think about whether I'd name a specific ride (one of those amazing rides in Provence, for example? or Scotland? or Spain? my favourite ride probably would be in Europe . . . but it is hard to choose between them all) or whether I'd keep it general: biking around town, biking at our cottage, biking in Quebec, bike trips etc.

pear and cheese sandwich & two more sandwiches

Today's favourite thing makes it to my list of ten top favourite things. Every day for lunch, if I can, I have exactly the same sandwich and it is always absolutely perfect, one of those rare combinations that never lets you down. Here's the "recipe":

Toasted (onion and dill or rosemary and garlic) Artisan bread (this is one reason it would be hard for me to move away from Ottawa--as far as I know this bread is only available here and it is amazing). Cover toasted bread with a medium cheddar cheese. Put in toaster oven until melted. Cover with thinly sliced pear. Eat and enjoy!

Joel teases me for always eating the same thing but apparently Wittgenstein always ate exactly the same potatoes and white bread for lunch (and possibly even for dinner--I should check) and the lack of variety seemed to do him good (along the lines of developing awe-inspiring philosophical theories that change the way we think).

Two people on the list also mentioned sandwiches as favourite things. Here they are:

1) Jan’s Favourite sandwich: "hummus, sharp cheddar and sliced dill pickle on whole wheat."

2) Peter G's favourite sandwich: "2 slices of rideau bakery light rye bread - toasted, slather with fresh pesto sauce, cover with slices of fresh garden tomato, top with 2 or 3 poached eggs and freshly ground black pepper; serve with fresh orange juice - ooooohhhhh baby, it's good." (I like the editorial!)

last snow

On Monday morning as I walked to Carleton the sky filled with thick snow that shifted the landscape from colour (albeit dull colour) to black-and-white. Everything was blurred and bleached like an old tv set with static. But I also felt a bit mournful because I suspected it was the last snowfall of the season and so there was something sad in this last hurrah of winter. Bittersweet though. I love the turning of the season, the cusp of the things, the way that a last snowfall can be a favourite thing. (And then, because this is Ottawa, it did snow again on Wednesday--but that time it was only flurries and nothing like Monday's dramatic, sudden, snow-filled sky.)

The only "last" thing in the favourite-things list is Louise Bourgeois' "Cell (The Last Climb)" which I've mentioned already. But it is so lovely and evocative that it never hurts to mention it again.

community theatre & bread and puppet theatre

My favourite thing over the last several days has been the clever, rambunctious, spirited, gleeful community theatre production of "GleeBE" at the Glebe community centre. It was amazing to watch not only Michal and Joel but also so many familiar faces from our neighbourhood up there on stage. And it reminded me of how much I love the way community theatre brings people together and creates something--something palpable and vibrant--that was not there before.

Theatre itself was only mentioned by one person on the list. One of Laura's five favourite things: Bread and Puppet Theatre (Glover, Vermont).