The Paint Fairy returns

Posted on June 28, 2014 by Mikaela Lefaive

I hate to say it, but I think I might be a (rather unhappy but) slightly better person when JF is away. I watch less television, sleep more, eat better, and get more done.

While he was in the Yukon, I:

put up some floating shelves
hired a new handy man
cleaned the house top to bottom
practiced my piano scales
exercised
re-organized my filing system
volunteered a lot
re-mulched the front garden

He’s only been back for four hours and I can already feel my brain descending into happy slothfulness.

In any case, my greatest accomplishment – while JF was slurping on Bonanza Browns by the Klondike – was painting the attic.

JF's man attic - desperately needs a coat of paint

JF’s man attic, pre-paint. And covered in spackle because it was once a studio.

Months ago, my aunt JoAnne (a.k.a. the Paint Fairy) offered to come by and help me finish the sucker. The rest of our home was painted last fall, but somehow the pocked-marked upstairs nook was intimidating. So many unusual angles and corners.

The Paint Fairy’s kind proposal — and my aunt Denise’s paint donation — finally gave me the kicks in the arse I needed.

The job took two coats and a whole day to complete. I couldn’t have asked for better company. We painted, paused for toasted tomato sandwiches, painted more, puttered in my garden, painted again, and then celebrated our success with wine and roasted potatoes.

Here’s the room in stages:

The Paint Fairy, at noon

Cutting done

After one coat

After two coats

Merci, mes tantes pour vos beaux cadeaux. Our house feels more finished for them.

Bog love

Posted on June 22, 2014 by Mikaela Lefaive

JF is enjoying summer solstice (i.e. drinking beer) in the beautiful Yukon this weekend and I’m sappy enough to admit I miss him terribly. So I thought I’d devote some cyberspace to a place we both love: Tiny Marsh.

Spring 2009

Winter 2014

Spring 2014

Summer 2011

Spring 2014

Fall 2012

We’ve been together nine years and marsh-goers for about six. It’s our favourite place for phone-free, brains-off time together. When we lived in Toronto, we’d often stop there to catch our breaths before wading into cottage-country traffic. These days, we visit it every two weeks or so.

Us at the marsh in 2009

Why do we love this patch of bog so much? Lots of reasons:

Groomed trails
No entry fee
Minutes from home
Fresh air – except in spring, when it reeks of hydrogen sulfide
Many birds live there, some rare
It’s beautiful

Though items one to four are handy, five and six are essential to any JF and Mik-friendly space.

You see, JF is a birder. Not a birdwatcher, a birder. Because apparently, there’s a difference. For years, he’s trudged through forest, field and swamp to hear or see as wide a variety of species as he can – like a real-life Ash from Pokémon.

Personally, I think the whole thing is sweet and nerdy, just like him. There are only two challenges with his hobby:

He doesn’t like to hike where he can’t add new birds to his annual “gotta see or hear ‘em all” list.
I find crouching over spotting scopes, peering through binoculars, and flipping through Sibley’s about as exciting as scrubbing my baseboards

Much as I aspire to JF’s level of nerddom, if I’m being honest with myself, I’m more like these two:

Which is why the marsh’s prettiness is important. It’s filled with lovely things for me to admire and take photos of. There are shady woods, sunny fields and big wide vistas. We’re still finding new nooks and crannies.

Through the years, we’ve shared our love of Tiny Marsh with friends and family. Here are a few photos of people who have explored it with me.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

When JF gets back, I think I’ll request a boggy picnic. In the meantime, I might take a sentimental stroll down the dikes by myself.

Us at the marsh last weekend

True nerd

Busy nothings

Posted on June 11, 2014 by Mikaela Lefaive

Life in sleepy Elmvale is ticking along quietly. The garden is now only 80% weeds. Slowly, slowly we are making progress on house projects. Barbecued broccoli is my new favourite food. And there are orange popsicles in the freezer.

The beautiful thing about summertime is that there isn’t anything big and exciting to report. Instead, life is a series of non-events. Here are some recent ones:

Toby turned 100,000 kilometres

Can you believe my little Honda Fit, Tobias, has aged 40,000kms since I got him? I hardly know where the time and distance have gone. JF gifted him to me about this time last year, and my life has been infinitely more mobile since.

Tobias’ widgets the other day.

I exercised a few times

Confession: my January health revolution never happened. Instead, I gained a remarkable 10 pounds over the winter. So, I’ve given up on self-guided fitness regimes, joined shame-inducing Zumba classes at No Borders Fitness, and started briskly walking with colleagues at lunch. I also do weekly lifts, squats and planks at Swift Fitness, the most sophisticated garage gym I’ve ever seen. And I hate burpees.

My choir put on a show

Le Choeur de la Clé, the francophone community choir I belong to, put on a love-themed concert late May. It was great fun. I even performed in a trio with my lovely cousin Nicole and dear old friend Joël.

My view, every Tuesday night during choir practice

JF and I went garage sale-ing

As you all know, there is nothing I love more than old or dead people’s cheap stuff — except maybe barbecued broccoli. Toronto garage sales are expensive and infrequent. Their Elmvale counterparts are far more fun and plentiful. Plus they often come with ¢25 cookies baked by little old ladies. My favourite find was the scarred wooden duck/target I purchased for a steep $2. I called him Ferdinand, and he lives on my front porch.

This is what 7 a.m. looks like.

The best ones aren’t advertised in the papers.

$40 Booty: chair, quilt, urn, zippo, mug, leather clutch and (of course) Ferdinand.

In the words of Fanny Price (movie edition), “Life seems but a quick succession of busy nothings.”

A year ago

Posted on June 3, 2014 by Mikaela Lefaive

367 days ago at this time, I was hugging my beautiful Toronto work friends goodbye. I remember feeling a happy fluttering in my belly, along with a strong urge to throw up. Walking away from my downtown office is when I actually internalized the fact that, for better or worse, I was finishing and beginning an adventure.

Screen shot that says "you registered on WordPress.com 1 year ago! Thanks for flying with us. Keep up the good blogging!"

This popped up on my phone on May 31, 2014. Thanks WordPress!

The night before, I had spent an hour hammering out my first blog post. Reading it brings so many feelings back into my head and heart. It was exhilarating to know we were finally going to give our dream lifestyle a shot. And horrifying to think we were leaving stability behind.

In the days that followed, I called our wonderful landlords (how I now admire their impeccable yard skills!) to tell them we were moving. I picked up dozens of regrettably empty boxes from the LCBO. And we ordered last suppers from our favourite delivery places — I miss you, Banjara Indian Cuisine.

Fast forward to now, when I’m often asked if the whole thing was worth it. It’s a tough question to answer.

Most days, I say yes. In this new life, I cook more, see JF more, read more, spend more time living en francais, see family more, and give back to causes that mean more to me. I also love working on our house, in our garden, in our little town.

But is our new life everything we expected? Of course not. I still overload my schedule. I haven’t properly broken in my new purple sneakers. My job is great, but short-term. Our red brick beast/house adds a whole new layer of busy. The hammock we pictured ourselves regularly lying in hasn’t even been installed. And there are Toronto people and things I miss ferociously.

After weighing both then and now, I’ve concluded that I’m closer to who and where I want to be than I was a year ago. I’ve also decided it’s important to have those someday dreams. But it’s equally important that I remember to enjoy the lumpy, potholed (or these days, mosquito-ridden) road I’m on. At the very least, I think I’m headed in the right direction.

Dandelions in a farmer’s field by our house. I know I’m supposed to hate them, but I like them.

My clothesline. It squeaks and doesn’t move up and down very well, but it’s mine!

Members of my Rebelo family playing World (e.g. this violent but awesome street game http://bit.ly/Sp6QiN)

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place

Posted on May 23, 2014 by Mikaela Lefaive

I know, I know. It’s been way too long since my last blog post. To those who have come to expect weekly updates, I apologize. Gaps like this shouldn’t happen again – too often.

In my defense, it’s been a rather busy few weeks. In addition to my usual social adventures, I got over my fear of gardening:

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Sang and played in public:

My new friend Greg and I, performing at the Advanced Learning Conference

And celebrated my amazing mother:

Maman

But more than any of those things, my energy and enthusiasm were directed toward a single very important event: my babelicious sister Alicia’s marriage to her beautiful Sebastien.

Alicia (right) in all her glory. That’s Geneviève and I to her left.

If you know my fam jam, you know Alicia and I couldn’t be more different. I played with Barbies; she played with Tonka trucks. I studied the impact of colonialism on third world countries; she has an engineering degree. I like Bananagrams; she plays League of Legends. I’m vegetarian; she loves ribs.

My someday wedding will be simple. Probably a backyard barbecue. Alicia, on the other hand, bought herself a red Cinderella gown, rented a hall with vaulted ceilings, pulled together a full and fun bridal party, hired an amazing caterer, then invited her many guests come in victorian steampunk attire. (SIDE NOTE: Don’t know what steampunk is? Neither did I. Try Google images.)

Of course, their ceremony music was from Moulin Rouge:

I didn’t take pictures until after dinner (e.g. well into wine), so I’m very much looking forward to the images by Kelly Moss, Midland’s superstar photographer. Here are some to tide you over:

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

I’ll admit, I had my doubts. But it turns out Alicia isn’t adopted, because eventually, I got into it. I liked the lace parasols, rusted key seating chart, and vaudeville-inspired photo booth. And I was delighted with my poofy hair and mini top hat fascinator.

But most of all, I adored seeing my radiantly happy sister exchange vows with her brilliant and kind partner. I have never seen a person so happy and in love as Seb when he put that ring on her finger. I’m so privileged to have been part of their day and so glad they found each other.

The lovebirds, on a less glamorous day.

Mother’s Day

Posted on May 8, 2014 by Mikaela Lefaive

My mom, cooking as usual

My mom houses me when I’m homeless, points the way when I need direction, and cares for me when I’m sick. Last week, when I was feeling overwhelmed by the weeds in my garden, she and my avo spent an afternoon cleaning my yard.

Maman is one of those unsung heroes of the world. She quietly, but efficiently, fundraises for charity, volunteers at community events, and excels in her work — all while keeping a meticulous house, exercising regularly, making deliciously elaborate meals, socializing with her Manhattan-sized network of friends, and beautifying the universe with her impeccable taste.

Sometimes it rankles to know that my mother is, and always will be, infinitely cooler than I am. When I was in high school handsome young men I liked would tell me they had a crush on her. Talk about your classic chopped liver.

Classic Mikaela and mom, circa 1985

But mostly, I’m just grateful that some miracle resulted in her giving birth to me.

One of my goals in moving from Toronto to Simcoe County was to spend more time with family. And when I picture my family, my mom is always at the centre.

Just a year ago, a weekend in Midland meant slogging through cottage country traffic, cramming in visits with friends, eating mom’s food, then schlepping back to the city to crash. Last night, a Tuesday, I had her and some friends over for a casual and decidedly unhurried dinner. Radical.

It’s sad that we only carve out one day of the year’s 365 (or 0.3%) to express gratitude to moms — so often the most amazing people, and the most taken for granted.

So here’s to mothers everywhere. But let’s face it, mine’s the best.

Mom and I, last year

Turning 50

Posted on April 24, 2014 by Mikaela Lefaive

This is my 50^th blog post. Holy. Moly. A lot has happened since I started Hello Field nearly a year ago:

What is totally absurd and wonderful is that friends, family and even a few randos from the internet (hi guys!) have read and cared about all of that stuff. Who knew I had even remotely interesting thoughts?

I started this blog to keep my lovely Toronto friends updated on our adventures in the boonies. That’s still 90% of its reason for existing.

But it’s also a weekly opportunity for me to zoom out, think macro about my life, and write about what’s taking up the most space in my head. Hitting publish is strangely therapeutic.

I guess the whole point of this post to thank you – for reading, reacting to and sometimes even commenting on my stories.

The adventure continues and, at least for now, I’ll continue writing about it in 200-word pieces.

I feel strange publishing a post without a photo, so here’s one of my feet dangling on the edge of the Grand Canyon.

Black thumb

Posted on April 17, 2014 by Mikaela Lefaive

Our backyard, 85% snow free!

The trees in our front yard are covered in little nubblies that will soon explode into big chlorophyll-sucking leaves. Two crocuses are getting ready to show their shy little faces in the back yard. Tiny little green blades of grass are trying to poke their way through our mangled brown “lawn.”

I am delighted to watch litres of liquefied snow trickle down Elmvale’s street grates. I really am.

Front yard, 80% snowplough sand!

But I must admit to being utterly terrified by what is being exposed to the world. And by the world, I mean my neighbours.

Why? Because I have the opposite of a green thumb. My thumbs are both black as the squirrels that keep eating our birdseed and suet.

About a month ago, a dear friend gave me a little self-sustaining plant. It only needed water every few weeks. Here is what it looks like today:

I’m sorry, Cynthia. I tried!

All of that said, I think most gardeners would be frightened at the prospect of rescuing our yard. Its list of challenges is truly epic. Here are my top 10:

no fence = no dog
uneven, lumpy ground throughout
weeds and mud instead of lawn
no defined garden beds the back yard
random weeds everywhere
patchy mulching in the front garden
sad, brown bushes that need trimming
hostas that need splitting
decks that need replacing
broken paving stones

Basically, I need one of those HGTV shows that will take two days to raze what’s there, then magically replace it all with a lush, low maintenance retreat.

I’ve taken to what I call aspirational gardening. I stand on our back deck, close my eyes, and imagine everything my yard could be. It’s really pretty in my head! Then I go into the house before opening my eyes so that I don’t slapped in the face by reality.

While I’ve got your attention, any great gardeners out there? Can you help me puzzle through the following basic gardening problems?

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

At least I have David, JF, and Elmvale Bakery doughnuts.

Heather’s gift to me: David

JF and I at Tiny Marsh

No caption needed.

The season of the flood

Posted on April 7, 2014 by Mikaela Lefaive

Spring is finally (FINALLY!) here and the sound of ice cracking and robins singing is sweet music to my long-frozen ears.

It’s so wonderful to be able to whistle down Elmvale’s sidewalks without picking through ice. I’ve happily hung up the shovels and packed away my Michelin-man inspired parka.

JF and Tobias, after his bath

To thank Tobias for getting through the winter, I sent him for a bath this morning. A kind lady named Deb cleaned him top to bottom and he is beautiful again. Our relationship is so much better now that the roads are dry.

Neighbours tell us it has been an epic winter – cold, drawn out, and remarkably snowy. I believe them. For at least a month our front door wasn’t visible from the road thanks to massive piles of snow in our front yard.

What I’m now learning is that with epic snowbanks comes epic flooding. So far (knock on wood) the melting snow hasn’t swallowed our basement. But our driveway looks like this:

To celebrate Elmvale’s first afternoon in the dougle digits, JF and I explored the Minesing Wetlands today. We spotted roads and front yards totally overtaken by water. Still, it was good to feel the earth under my feet and hear rivers rushing past.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

It’s a small county after all

Posted on March 31, 2014 by Mikaela Lefaive

You know how I’ve been sorting through old stuff lately? Well, I recently found this journal my mom bought me several years ago.

Here’s the front cover

Thinking I’d get to re-visit angst-ridden teenage poetry, I flipped open the first page.

Instead of a journal entry, guess what I found? A biography about Heather Smeding, our house’s former owner.

Here’s Heather’s bio, with our attic mentioned right in the first paragraph

My mind was boggled. I suddenly had this feeling that the cosmos has big plans for me, that everyone is connected and that someday, I’d find my favourite socks.

Then I remembered : Simcoe County only has 446,000 people living in it. The chances of someone from Perkinsfield meeting someone from Elmvale (15 minutes away) are pretty good.

Damn. I guess those socks really are lost.

Even though the whole thing wasn’t destiny, it was a nice reminder that like-minded people find ways to connect.

When I met Heather, I liked her instantly. She had amazing art, talked straight, and had a subtle (but sharp) sense of humour. She was part of the reason this house appealed to me.

My favourite part of the journal is the last page, where Heather tucked a little list of journal entry prompts.

These prompts came in a sweet little recycled pouch

I thought I’d share some of my responses:

Dear past me : Your poetry isn’t good
If I could change one thing : I’d find my favourite socks
Three good things : BBQ chips, snuggling and puppies
Things I always did with my mom: read Winnie the Pooh
Three things I would grab if my house was on fire : a photo album, the blanket my avò made me, and my purse
If I knew I couldn’t fail, I would : be a painter
Thing I’ve done that I didn’t think I could : sing for a crowd

I think I might use this journal to keep track of the many things I’m grateful for, starting with my mom, good food, friendly people, and happy coincidences.

One of my journal’s inside pages

Share this:

Share this:

Toby turned 100,000 kilometres

I exercised a few times

My choir put on a show

JF and I went garage sale-ing

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this: