Where’s Dave?

Tessa:

For the two people who regularly read this blog and might be wondering where Dave has got to he wants you to know that he has:

  • Run off to tour with The Arcade Fire. He is doing an awesome job playing the femur.
  • Is training to be a matador in Spain. Pics to come of Dave in bullfighter tights.
  • Been taken prisoner by Sunnni Radicals in the outskirts of Baghdad. Watch video on Al Jazeera website.

As soon as he returns from his adventures abroad, he will begin posting again. In the meantime,  he sends his love. Hugs and Kisses.

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Inside the Gullible Mind

Tessa: I was at work yesterday when someone shouted that there was a bobcat outside. A bobcat I thought. That’s so cool. That’s so weird. So I dropped everything to wander outside to witness this wildlife miracle. Imagine. A real live bobcat right in someone’s backyard in East Van. Ohmiggod, I hope he doesn’t eat Alley (the company cat). Worse. I hope he doesn’t’ eat me… then my scattered brain immediately flashed to AHHHHHH poor bobcat. That’s so sad. He’s lost his way. So when I got outside to check out the bobcat the only thing I saw was Alley wandering around the back yard like the East Van hoodlum he is. I worried briefly for his safety. But still no sign of a bobcat. Crap. He must have taken off I thought. Then I looked up and saw this Finning Tractor like thing ploughing some abandoned oil well. Someone tapped me on the shoulder. That’s the bobcat. Ohhhhh, I said. A little light went on and the dots connected. Finally. Oh to be gullible.

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Book Review:The History of Love by Nicole Krauss

Tessa: I recently finished reading  The History of Love  by Nicole Krauss, wife of Jonathan Safran Foer, author of Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close and Everything is Illuminated. Being a hopeless romantic, I was intrigued by the title. Wow, a book not just about love, but the HISTORY OF LOVE. So it surprised me that I didn’t love this book, especially after all the glowing reviews it has received in the press.

The plot is simple. Fourteen year old Alma Singer’s father dies and five years later she can’t stand her mother’s loneliness anymore, so she goes searching for a companion for her. Through a long convoluted plot twist, her search takes her to a book called The History of Love, where she begins to unravel the mystery of the central character in the book, after whom she is named,  and who is clearly the love of the author’s life.

Through several more convoluted plot twists, too many to mention, she is ultimately lead to Leopold Gursky, a survivor of the pogroms in Poland, and now an old man living in New York.

 Leo Gursky was a man in love and he loved a woman who didn’t love him back. And yet. His life and his work are infused with the emptiness of having lost his true love after she leaves the small village in Poland where they grew up together. In truth, I love the character of Leo Gursky. He is a funny, wise, heart broken man, who begins dying early in life, not only because he loses Alma but because he loses everything. And yet. Like most of us, he survives. The greatest loss for Leo, is not what his life is but what it could have been.

 I also like Alma Singer and her brother Bird. But something about this book reminds me too much of Oscar in Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close and at times I feel like I’m reading the same characters. I guess I’m also tired of books whose narrative structure moves back and forth between characters building a bridge between the two that ultimately leads to the resolution of the plot. Just give me  plain ol’ linear narrative.  In truth I think I read this book too soon after Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close and it felt a little too much like reading the same book. I also found the plot somewhat confusing and the transitions between these voices somewhat obfuscating. Maybe I’m just cranky because I’m tired. Anyways, it is a great homage to love and well, that’s always worth a read I think. I’ll leave you with a small poem about Leo Gursky and you can decide if you want to read more.

The Death of Leopold Gursky

Leopold Gursky started dying on August 18, 1920
He died learning t walk.
He died standing at the blackboard.
And once, also, carrying a heavy tray.
He died practicing a new way to sign his name.
Opening a window.
Washing his genitals in the bath.

He died alone, because he was too embarrassed to phone anyone.
Or he died thinking about Alma.
Or when he chose not to.

Really, there isn’t much to say.
He was a great writer.
He fell in love.
It was his life.

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Double Talk: When I don’t say what I mean

Tessa: I have this thing where I say one thing but I actually mean another entirely. For example, let’s say Dave and I have a party to go to and he doesn’t really want to go. I might say something like, “Hot pants, if you don’t really want to go, you don’t have to.” At this point Hot Pants, being a guy will think I mean this and so will say, “Oh, ok. Then I don’t think I will go.” This of course, makes me furious because I think he should know that I didn’t really mean what I said. What I really meant was, thank you for coming with me even though I know you really don’t want to go and I love you even more because of your giving nature and unconditional love.

So when Valentine’ s Day came, Dave and I agreed that we didn’t buy into that commercial hoopla and that we would ignore it and that’s what I said to him. “Let’s ignore it Hot Pants.” So he did and went ahead and made plans to have dinner with his friend. A guy. So I said good luck finding a restaurant on Valentine’s Day. It’s going to be a nightmare. Expensive too. Say hi to Scott for me. Tell him to stay with us next visit. According to double talk standard I’ll leave it to you to guess which of the above statements are really true.

So off I went to work feeling bitter and resigned. When everyone asked what was up I gave them the old Valentine’s Day is not for us schtick. Dave is going out with a friend and I’m staying home to drive spikes through my palms. When my sister called later that day to say she found a Valentine card to her six year old, from Carlos her bad boy admirer, I was crushed. Where’s my damn Valentine, I wondered to myself. Inspired by Carlos (six years old) I decided to pen a love note myself. So I wrote an ode to Dave and sent it off thinking he would read it after his date with whatshisface.

When I got home I expected the house to be dark and empty. I was regretting saying I didn’t care about the big love day. I couldn’t find Dave anywhere but the lights were on, flowers on the table and a nice bottle of wine was on the counter. I thought it was sweet that Dave wanted me to feel good about being alone on Valentine’s Day. I’d drink the bottle, look at the flowers and probably start smoking again.

Then I heard a noise and there he was. Outside on the deck talking to his girlfriend. He must have been out there for at least a half hour before I discovered him. He was giggling up a storm so I knew it was my mother on the other line. He called to wish her a good day. He had also cancelled his date with his friend. I was so happy I immediately tackled him to the ground and we wrestled for the next hour. We had the best night. I’m glad he gets my double talk. Thanks Carlos! Thanks Dave!

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CURRIED CHICK PEA WITH TOMATOES, GINGER AND CILANTRO

I got this great soup recipe from Gayle at skating. She is my new soup sensei.

Ingredients:

8 c. vegetable stock
2 T. vegetable oil
1 onion, finely diced
2 bay leaves
8 garlic cloves
2 T. minced ginger
2 jalapeno peppers, seeded
1 red pepper
6 ripe tomatoes
1 t. each, cumin seed, coriander seed, paprika, garam masala
1/4 t. cracked pepper
1/8 t. turmeric
3 c. canned chick peas
1/4 c. prepared mango chutney
1/2 can coconut milk
1/2 bunch cilantro, minced

*1* Heat the oil in a coup pot and add onion, 1 tsp salt and bay leaves.
Saute until the onions are soft and golden. Meanwhile, place the garlic,
ginger, jalapenos, pepper and tomatoes in a food processor and pulse until
the vegetables form a rough puree. Set aside.

*2* Next, grind the cumin and corianer seeds. Add these and all remaining
spices to the
sauteed onions and continue cooking and stirring for 5
minutes. Add the vegetable puree and another teaspoon of salt and simmer
until small blobs of oil pool on the surface. Add the chick peas and stock
and bring to a simmer. Cook several minutes, then add the chutney and
coconut milk. Using a potato masher, gently mash the chick peas against the
bottom of the pot to beak them up slightly and thicken the soup. Simmer and
season to taste with salt and cracked pepper. Add chopped cilantro just
before serving.

Serves 8

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Book Review: Monster by Sanyika Shakur aka Monster Kody Scott

Dave: I was hesitant to read this book thinking it would just be another glorified gangster story that we so often see on TV.  What I read instead was a story of how a young boy is swept up into the ruthless world of gang life doing whatever it takes to rise to the top of his set. We see the the rise of Monster Kody, so called for his Monstrous ruthlessness as a soldier for the “Eight Trays” his East LA gang, to his inevitable time in juvenile detention and prison, and his eventual transition from gangster to joining the New African Independence Movement.

Sanyika takes the reader through the mean streets of East LA; exploring  the different hand gestures, clothes, graffiti and loyalty of gang life; of how getting off at the wrong bus stop in the wrong neighborhood can cost you your life. The author also voices his opinion on what he thinks is wrong with the system, adding to the prevalence of gangsterism.

The loyalty, patriotism and honor of these gang members is very similar to the young soldiers going overseas to fight in a government sanctioned war. There is fear of the unknown, the relentlessness of always watching your back and the debilitating affects of post traumatic stress disorder. The war fought at home though is almost entirely ignored by society.

I found this book to be a very revealing and important read and am glad I gave it a chance. The one thing that really stood out is that all this killing is mostly done by children (it reminded me of “The Lord of the Flies“). It’s a book that not only teaches you something but keeps you asking questions long after it’s finished.

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Show me how I snore like a truck driver

Tessa: One of my favourite things to do right after waking up and after I’ve delivered two cuffs to Dave’s head to confirm that he is awake too, is to ask him to simulate my snoring. Because I’m very polite I make sure to ask him how he slept first. He usually says something like you woke me up four times; you sound like a drill saw;  you’d give Genghis Khan a run for his money; you’re worse than you, your mother and brother put together; your breath smells like a truck stop urinal; we need to sew your esophagus closed.

This is spicy love talk and I love it. Then I say show me. Show me how I snore. Is it like this? Or like this? Or is it more like this? Dave refuses to look at me for any of this. He stares at the ceiling disconsolately. It must be his back that is bugging him. Tell me you love me I say. I grub you. Yeah, that means the love isn’t really there.  Then I dig deep inside and I say, hey is it more like this…. and I draw in my breath and wiggle it around in my mouth creating this massive vacuum that enables me to emit this roaring, quaking sound. Is it like this I say? He blinks and looks away. Yes, he says. I’ll get an operation I tell him. Jennifer Aniston just got one so I’ll get one too. He knows how much I love her. If she can fix her ailing schnoz than so can I. My hero! Dave that is!

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The comfort in snoring

Dave: Okay, I know I complained about Tessa snoring in an earlier post. And I still have that same chainsaw sleeping next to me… but now I can deal with it. We finally bought a new bed and tossed our lumpy, cauliflower padded, old one away.

We went to sleep country last week (Tessa still hasn’t stopped humming that stupid little sleep country tune) and were quickly shown to the most expensive bed on the planet. The nice lady said we of course didn’t have to buy that one… she just wanted us to try it out. So of course, every other bed we tried paled in comparison to the “ultra deluxe mega lovely cloud of comfort”….. being the shop-o-holics we are: we bought it.

So now I’m in even more of a conundrum; when Tessa wakes me with her power snoring, do I go to the couch (which used to be such a relief from the old bed and noise) or do I put up with Tessa’s massive air intake? (click hear for an example)

I’ve decided that comfort wins over sleep and have stayed through the nights since we’ve had our new bed. I was woken four times last night but was so comfortable I fell right back to sleep.

Now I have to work on the next problem; Tessa is a massive bed hog and likes to sleep in the very center of the bed. I usually have to sleep with one foot on the floor to keep me from being pushed totally from the bed.

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Vegetarian Soup: Greek Red Lentil with Lemon, Rosemary and Feta Cheese

Tessa: Someone brought this soup into work the other day and generously offered to give me a taste. It was so good that I went home that night and made it. It’s from Rebar Modern Food Cookbook which has been on BC’s bestseller list almost consistently since its publication a few years ago. I’ve tried a few other recipes from this cookbook and they have all been fantastic.

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Wheatless Apple Spice Cake

Tessa: My sister Mia brought this light, tasty, wheat-free, apple spice cake for dessert recently. The great thing about this cake is that it’s sooooo delicious even wheat-eating civilians can’t tell that it’s been made from spelt flour. But for those who want to prepare it with wheat, simply substitute the spelt with equal qty wheat. I also thought that the cake was brought over specifically for ME ME ME but I found I had to beat people away from the spelt cake and re-direct them to the wheaty pie which she also generously brought over.

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