jammy jam

I’ve been feeling strangely domestic as of late. I’ve read that in the months or weeks leading up to having a baby a woman enters a stage called nesting. That didn’t happen with Oliver, sadly, possibly because I was still working full time, but not to fear – I’m making up for lost time now.

My latest nesting project was turning about eight pounds of strawberries into freezer jam – inspired, I must admit, by the awesome freshly made jam I slathered on my buttery multigrain toast at our Father’s Day breakfast. Why shouldn’t we eat this kind of stuff all year round, I queried myself.

The last time I attempted to make preserves was about 10 years ago, when I worked one summer at Guisachan Garden and the head gardener graced me with loads of rhubarb and elderberries. I had so much jam and syrup after that venture that I didn’t need anymore for a couple of years after (this, after gifting jars of the stuff to friends, family, colleagues, neighbours . . . people who smiled at me while walking by). After that I just haven’t bothered, being somewhat of a domestic stick in the mud, as it were.

But this time, I felt a strange pride in the process. Like I was creating a domiciliary version of fine art. Granted, I wasn’t doing anything grand with the jam, like upping the complexity of the flavour by lacing it with lavender or even kiwi (thought about it too late). Maybe next year, if I can sustain the impulse. No, I just followed the directions on the packet of pectin. But the taste! Fresh, fruity, sweet (without being overly sweetened) ... authentic.

And, in keeping with the whole art of creation theme, I couldn’t resist shooting some pics of the process.


A strawberry bath:





These are no supermarket strawberries - freshly picked from the field that morning, these ones are much more succulent, hailing from the local farmer's market. I bought three flats of them so we could also freeze a bunch, as well as gorge.





Bizarrely, I had the song "I'm squishing up my baby bumble bee ..." as I smashed the strawberries into a more jammy texture. "Mmmm, eeeee, tastes like strawberry!"














We got a dozen little jars out of the deal - enough to keep us set through to the next season (I hope)!



Next up, I'll have to work on learning how to make fresh, multigrain bread! Stay tuned...

hols

After a winter-long camera hiatus, it seems I'm back in photo-taking mode, which means lots of pictures on the blog again.

This lot is from our "summer holiday." Because of the baby coming in August, and my desire to have Kyle save his holiday time for as soon as the baby arrives, we're sticking pretty close to home this year. Our big foray away was a weekend in Vancouver, where one of Kyle's friends got married last weekend. We turned it into a mini break, with fun stuff for Oliver, too. Here is a little bit of what we did:



Since we stayed on Granville Island, we took the opportunity to go for a walk Saturday afternoon, between the ceremony and the reception (also held on Granville Island), along this inlet/parkway.



Me and Oliver. This and the following pics of me are the first belly shots of the pregnancy, now starting month eight! With Oliver, I faithfully chronicled my belly growth from six months!



A side profile of my girth...



A family shot



Wolsey and Kyle



Oliver thought it was hilarious to put his hat on his da's head!



Our last morning we walked to the Granville Island market for breakfast. Oliver, of course, was more interested in chasing the pigeons. "Yun!" (translated to "run") he'd demand, as he descended upon them.



It didn't take the pigeons long to work out that Oliver's intentions were not malicious, and soon, instead of flying or even "yunning" away, they would just side-step him and watch him pass.



We had to eat breakfast - the best porridge I've had, from a place called Stock Market - outside on a bench so that Oliver could keep his eye on the pigeons. As you can see by the look on his face, he would rather chase them than eat breakfast.



Usually this area is teaming with people but at 8 a.m. on a Sunday morning we had the place virtually to ourselves. Gotta love the view!



On our way home we stopped at the Othello Tunnels, a popular walking area near Hope, B.C. (about an hour out of Vancouver). Once a part of the Kettle Valley Railway, the tracks have been removed and it's a great spot to walk or cycle. Rambo: First Blood was filmed in Hope, and the cliffs around the tunnels were used in the movie as well.



Me swinging Oliver in a tunnel.



Belly silhouette.

birthday wolsey

Oliver turned two last month and celebrated with a small, family gathering featuring hotdogs, cupcakes and presies. We figured we'd save the splashy kid parties for when he actually starts to care. A good time was had by all, however, especially The Boy, who even condescended to nosh a cupcake (or part of one, anyway). In keeping with the spirit of things. Here are some shots of the fete...

The cupcakes


The guests, from L -> R: Aunty, cousin Avery, Oma, Grandmama, Grandma, cousin Liam and Gina.

super wolsey

Just in time for his birthday, Oliver (aka Super Wolsey) received his superhero cape from Ellie Bellie Kids, won by his diligent mum for joining and promoting their Facebook page. So the Boy got to spend the day in Superhero style, carousing through the neighbourhood, saving the day while Mamma tagged along with the camera. Here are some shots...