shopping in YVR

Because no vacation trip to Vancouver would be complete without visits to my temple, The Bay, and my new shrine, Koda Klothing,
and my long time mainstream Canadian obsession, Roots, I offer you photos of shopping done, things considered (but not purchased), and a glimpse into how very stereotypically gay I can be and was on the most recent trip up.

The fun hat from a shop on Granville Island? Inspired by Martin, of course!

And, frankly, I look pretty snazzy in a new shirt found at Koda paired with a jacket on sale from The Bay on the previous trip up.

One day, however, I shall shop with my other retail god (TK, the Master of All Things Outlet is the first shopping god I worship), Chris. The things he finds are remarkable. I will be brave...

special thanks

I made a big deal over 40, I know it. And (sorry), there's more to come. No, not so much, "Rah! Rah! I'm 40! w00t!" sort of thing. No worries. Just recapping the holiday built around it. A lovely time.

I want to single out someone, though, and for a change, it's not Conrad. Rest assured, he and I had a wonderful time together and have many many more wonderful times ahead. No, I want to use this little soapbox of mine to recognize my beloved sister, Marie.

Marie did a few things key things:

• Conrad and I own the condo, but she lives there, and as such, she opened her home to us and our friends for the open house on the Saturday.
• She was able to arrange a hotel room for our parents at a very favourable price, thereby permitting them to come down and visit for my birthday.
• She entertained our parents several times so that Conrad and I could have moments and more alone to ourselves over the holiday.
• She treated me (and the family) to a gorgeous bottle of 15 year-old vintage Champagne at my birthday dinner at the Club.
• She remains my close and well-loved sister, someone who will stand up for me come next October, and - best of all - always older than I am and, thus, hitting 40 (and, ahead) 50 ad 60 and such before I do!

(She might rightfully smack me for that last one)



I'm deeply grateful to her for all she does for me. Now then, if only TK can make an honest woman of her and redeem her from her so-called life of ill-repute! ;-)

66 days

Counting down: 66 days until belly rubs (oh, and 68 days until the marathon)...

Market Days

Hey! Today marks ten years since I started work with my current employer. Am I a lifer?

Ah well, this is NOT a blog about work matters, though there is a photo in this entry that includes my former department head. No, this one is a quick check in at the end of a sunny summer weekend that included Gay Pride Part II, or as it is properly known, Halsted Market Days.

Imagine a half mile of Boystown closed to traffic, vendor and not-for-profit booths set up, many half naked men walking around, and much booze. My first weekend in Chicago coincided with Market Days, and at the time, I thought it was AMAZING. Now? Not so much. I never really feel part of the gay scene, and after a while, the people watching depresses me as much for my own unsuppressible cattiness as for the people themselves. Plus, it takes a heck of a lot to be as milky white as I am, and I don't care to spend all that time in the sun, drunkenly or not.

Still, it is fun to go down for a little while, and so we parked ourselves for an early dinner on Yoshi's patio, bypassing the street vendor grills he and his staff were working.
nearby were a few carnival attractions (the inflated balls in the pool looked both hilariously fun as well as dangerously hot in the sunshine - little greenhouses). Sangria for me, wine for Conrad. Michael and Laura and a dubious stuffed toy representing the President, plus a guest appearance by the aformentioned Bob. And home by 6ish. Not a bad way to have a Market Days experience at all!

sweet honey

Dear Honey Land Farms,

This product?



Wow.

Drizzled atop some fresh berries and Greek yogurt, it was amazing. Heck, it was amazing as I swiped the bowl with a finger for any lingering drops and just licked them up. I'm still daydreaming about what desserts and things I can use the honey in. Other than on toast.

Please, keep at it. I have cuajada in mind for the honey, and I may yet be up in Garden buying more.

Yours, slightly obsessively now over a great local product,
Peter

Chris is here!

Interrupting the flow of getting blog posts out to announce that Chris is here!

In fact, he's been with us since Wednesday evening (and his luggage has been with us since Thursday morning), in town for Lollapalooza. We've taken him to our second home (Yoshi's - good food,


our usual friends there, and a nice couple of bottles of wine), taken him to swimming and to breakfast at Whole Foods/COH, baked cookies for him, baked scones for him (well, I have baked - Conrad doesn't get to come in my kitchen to attempt anything like that), and we're soon off on this last full morning with him to get crepes at a new-ish place near the Sheridan Red Line stop. Fun!

I very much like it when our Chicago and Vancouver lives blur. Usually it's the Brian-Giuseppe friendship that provides that blurring, and enjoyable that is, too. Now Chris has made it back to Chicago for the first time in several years. YAY! Come the wedding next year, and we hope to have an even greater mix of our two home cities.

For now, though, a fine visit with someone who is very very A-list in our books!

Oh! Read his blog. It's a hoot!

some pretty for you

I'm lazy tonight. Kinda tired. So, friends, a text-light and photo-heavy entry in the blog. Mostly flowers from a very sunny Sunday jaunt to the Island and a visit to The Butchart Gardens. It's not a cheap place to visit, but it may just knock your socks off!

Some pretty for you, then...

Moose

I think it's been apparent from past posts that I have a HUGE soft spot for dogs, especially big lovable ones. Conrad and I do not have any dogs of our own, but we delight in the ones who live with our friends, and we enjoy sharing what time we can with them on our visits.

There's one less dog to love, I am sorry to say. Moose is gone, and though we haven't seen him in years, he was an unforgettable friend for Martin and Ed and Mark.

This may be shallow of me, but the thing that I first loved about Moose was his name. Moose. Mooooooooooose. A fun name to roll off the tongue, funner still to have that face looking up at you when you said it.

Moose accepted the love of two strange guys visiting from out of town, let us pet him and stroke him, had a very kind temperament for the two of us in his house. I melted, meeting him, and I often asked Martin about him in years after.

It's not been a good summer for Martin and Mark in terms of their animal companions, but this latest blow really hurts. I can understand that it was Moose's time, but a little bit of me won't let the memory of him go.