Cheap toilet paper is a false economy.

This is the received wisdom and should be heeded by all. I hate using a public toilet and pulling something akin to tissue paper off the roll. It's better than the wax paper in British toilets, but not by much. It seems to me that if one type is perhaps one cent per square and another is two, but you have to use three times as much of the first...well, that math is pretty easy.

That's it for profound thoughts today.

Sometimes human nature is very, very sad.

So, we're looking at possible preschool-type experiences for the Spawn. Not that she's likely to go to school unless the public option improves or the private option becomes more affordable. That's a digression. One of the options I investigated on Friday was a parent-run preschool co-op that's just starting here in the 'Couv. It'd be local, unlike Footprint Farm down in Portland. It'd be parents so there wouldn't be a problem with me hanging around in the background. I'd have a voice in how things were done. Right.

I attended an organizational meeting at Cafe Sip 'n' Play 'n' I can't hear you it's too loud. When the meeting started, there were three other maternal units there. So far, so good. The one person who wasn't there was the only one in the group who's actually a friend rather than just another parent. Well, the topic of snacks came up and the missing friend had requested snacks without food colouring or processed sugar. Wow, you'd think she'd asked for food prepared under a blue moon by a full blooded Rani using only the toes of her left foot. Things went rapidly downhill from there, including which curriculum to use (it's an informal preschool, is a curriculum really needed?) and possible inclusion of Baby Einstein. Gah.

What really got me down though was the mob feeling with the food discussion. One lady started it and got the other two going so fast I never had a chance to mention that I happened to agree with the food requests. I think if it has just been the other two, things would have been fine. But three seems to be enough to create a herd. It left a really bad taste in my mouth.

You will be unsurprised to learn I decided against getting involved. Instead, my friend and I are trying to get our own group going. We are talking to people who have the same apparently terribly non-mainstream views on things like food and Baby Dumbstein. Somehow I never thought of myself as belonging to a subculture, but I guess I do.

Obviously the whole thing bothered me quite a bit or I wouldn't still be thinking about it. Am I just terribly sheltered? Is this what life is really like for most people? Backbiting and least-common-denominator led? I guess it's a good thing this happened since the Spawn is not a frog and doesn't need boiling at this tender age.

Back to chat and occasional irony next time.

Toddler Art, Part II

Here is yesterday's painting. The Russian influence is obvious, I think.


Oddly, this one doesn't have quite the same purplish cast as many of the others have had. Perhaps that's because it's layered even more thickly than usual. She doesn't starve her canvas, that's for sure.

Toddler Art

So, the Spawn likes to paint. This involves putting EVERY single colour of paint she can find onto the paper and mixing them all together. The order of colours varies, but the end result is always the same. A streaky grayish-purplish-brownish mess. Today she painted this way on the same piece of paper for a good forty-five minutes. She seems to like it, but I feel she's been overly influenced by the Russian school of painting. It's too dark outside now to take a good picture of the most recent work, but I'll post one on the morrow.

Actually, she likes to paint more than just the paper. She also paints every available body surface, excepting neck and face (thank goodness). This is not the accidental straying of paint, mind you. This is deliberate spreading of the muck all over her exposed body surfaces. She likes to be "decorated". The only way I was able to wash her off from the most recent bout was by offering her a temporary tattoo to replace it with. The things we stoop to....

Better Gardening Through Neglect

That is what I shall title any gardening book I ever write. We are slowly improving on the taking care of the garden front, but it is slow.

Case in point. Here is a good example of why you should thin your carrots.


And here is what happens when ALL the volunteer tomatoes are not only allowed to grow, but to grow with virtually no support or confinement.


I have gotten rather blase about stepping on tomatoes. These will all be going to make space for a hopefully slightly less neglected winter garden. Perhaps I'll find a good recipe for green tomato salsa or chutney. Or perhaps recipes for both are in order as I suspect there are a lot of green tomatoes hiding in there.

Is road planning really that difficult?

This has been irking me for some time, but what the &@%# is the deal with having three lane roads abruptly turn into two lane roads for the space of a kilometer at most? Plenty of clear land on either side of the road too, so they can't use that excuse. I think Portland just doesn't like people who live in the 'Couv, so they try to make it as hairy as possible to get from here to there. Either that or there's a class on sadism included in every highway designer's curriculum.

Gluten free ain't all that fun....

So, for a week and a half I have managed to eat no gluten. Whoopee. I have once again determined that gluten free bread is NEVER a substitute for the real thing. Preferably hot out of the oven, possibly with some butter melted into the fresh slice. Gluten free pancakes, yes. Gluten free biscuits, yes. Even gluten free cookies can be okay, if not inspiring. But if it turns out that eliminating gluten actually improves my health, I'm going to be one very disappointed person.