What's on YOUR chest? ... by Barbara (Ruth)

Recently I found one of my old lists, and it caused me to chuckle enough to consider it blog-worthy. I had started noticing tshirts that were really hilarious, and noted them in my blackberry: 

• What is Scientology anyway? No, seriously. (We're all thinking it, aren't we?)
• My Patronus is a Wookie. (Cross-geeking!)
• It's all Gouda. (Wonderful play on an overused phrase.)
• My other ride is your mother. (Dirty. But I laughed out loud in the store.)
• Alabama - so many recipes, so few squirrels. (If you've seen the clip on YouTube "Leprechaun in Alabama", you will know how apropos this is.)
• Trap or Die. (What does this mean? I saw it on a teenager's tshirt and it scared me a little.)
• Stop Clubbing Baby Seals. They never buy a round, they dance too close, and their breath smells of herring. (I saw this online... pretty funny... like the joke "So. A baby seal walks into a club." HAHAHAHA - I never get sick of that one.)
• I'm Kind of a Big Deal. (Oh if only I had the nerve to wear that one!)
• PB&J BFF (If you know me, you know why I'd love that shirt.)

There's a lot of power in a tshirt. Originally part of work clothes in the army and navy, the tshirt was popularized by Marlon Brando in 1960's "A Streetcar Named Desire", and then became easy protest garb and eventually wearable art in the 60's and 70s. It's hard to believe the famous "smile face", or "I 'heart' NY", or even the Rolling Stones tongue & lips logo all started in the 70s on a tshirt. 

People go mad for clever tshirts these days. At my first job I remember it was amazing how many people entered contests just so they could have that free tshirt that would invariably be too big and end up as sleepwear or in the Goodwill pile. And when Delta was bordering on bankruptcy several years ago, they asked employees to pitch in and volunteer 8 hour shifts to clean planes. Their pay? A tshirt. And get this - 300 people signed up for the first shifts.

Then of course there are the tshirts with the company logo across the chest. Consumers everywhere are suckered in to shelling out thirty or forty dollars so they can wear "ROOTS" or "Guess" across their chests. I wonder who the clever person was who figured out how to get customers to pay for the privilege of providing free advertising for a company?

I may eventually purchase my favourite tshirt. If what people wear on their chest is so powerful, then this is a message worth spreading:

Sticky Sweet...by (Angela) Jean

I'm always game to try something new.

When Shawn and the kids picked 12L of strawberries a few weeks back, I decided to make jam, something I have always wanted to do.

I had so many berries that I thought I would try making three different batches, with 3 different recipes. I did a bit of research and discovered that you can make jam with or without added pectin, the subtance that causes jam to gel. Some fruits, like apples and citrus fruit, contain higher levels of natural pectin, but strawberries are low on the list.

If you want to know more about pectin go here or here.
I decided to make 2 batches with different kinds of pectin and 1 batch without any added pectin.

For all three batches I sterilized my jars and lids in the oven. I kept them in a 225 degree oven for at least 10 minutes and then left them in the hot oven until the jam was ready to be jarred.

Batch #1

This batch was made with Bernardin Liquid Pectin. The recipe is the one that was on the pamphlet in the box.

Ingredients
3 3/4 cups crushed strawberries (I used a potato masher)
1/4 cup lemon juice
7 cups sugar
1 pouch liquid pectin

Yeild: 7 X 250 ml jars

Directions
In a large saucepan, stir together crushed strawberries, lemon juice, and sugar. Bring to a boil. Add the liquid pectin and boil for 1 additional minute. Remove from heat. Pour into sterilized jars.

The result was a batch with bit of a runny texture. It was VERY sweet. Since it was cooked for such a small amount of time, the colour was quite bright and the strawberry taste was very fresh.

Batch #2

This batch was also made with Pectin. This time I used Certo Light Pectin Crystals, and once again, used the recipe from the box.

Ingredients
6 cups crushed strawberries (again I used the potato masher)
4 1/2 cups sugar
1 box Certo Light Pectin Crystals

Yeild: 8 X 250 ml jars 

Directions
In a large saucepan, add prepared fruit. Combine Certo Light Pectin Crystals with 1/4 of sugar. Add to prepared fruit.

Bring to a boil over high heat.

Add rest of sugar.

Return to a hard boil for 1 minute.

Remove from heat. Stir and skim for 5 minutes to prevent floating fruit. Pour into sterilized jars.

This recipe resulted in a much thicker, more gelled consistency. The strawberry flavour came through well, and it had a very bright red colour. This jam was very similar to a store-bought jam. It was also considerably less sweet than the first batch.

Batch #3

This recipe is one I made up myself after reading several jam-making websites. It uses no added pectin. For this batch I also decided to see what would happen if I used the food processor to puree the strawberries before cooking.

Ingredients
4 cups pureed strawberries
1/4 cup lemon juice
4 cups sugar

Yeild: 5 X 250 ml jars 

In a large saucepan, stir together ingredients. Bring to a boil. Continue to boil, stirring often, until the mixture reaches 220 degrees F. (My batch took about 30 minutes). Pour into sterile jars.

This jam had the deepest colour and flavour. The texture was between the other 2 batches. It was also quite sweet.

Here are the final products in order from left to right.

Taste Test Results!
This week I brought samples of all 3 jams to work. I spread the word that there would be a taste test, and at the scheduled time, 28 of my colleagues turned out. Keep in mind that these are a bunch of very analytical people, so this was all taken very seriously.
The jams were served on small pieces of baguette. The testers tasted all three jams and were then asked to rank each jam in 5 categories: Colour, Aroma, Sweetness (their preference, not necessarily which was sweetest), Texture, and Overall Favourite. In each category, the jams received 1 point for a 3rd place rank, 2 points for a 2nd place rank, and 3 points for a 1st place rank. Note: some (difficult) testers...cough-Robyn-cough...refused to rank in certain categories so the points are not consistent from category to category.

Colour
1st place-Jam #3 (64 points)
2nd place-Jam #1 (61 points)
3rd place-Jame #2 (45 points)

This was a close race, but this crowd prefers the darkest colour jam.

Aroma
1st place-Jam #1 (66 points)
2nd place-Jam #3 (43 points)
3rd place-Jam #2 (42 points)

This was a run-away for Jam #1. I can guess that the aroma would be altered for Jam #3 because it was cooked for so long, but why did Jam #2 score so poorly? Perhaps the thickness obscures the aroma. Or maybe all that sugar in Jam #1 enhances the aroma? Which brings us to...

Sweetness
1st place-Jam #1 (71 points)
2nd place-Jam #3 (47 points)
3rd place-Jam #2 (44 points)

Clearly I work with a bunch of sugar addicts.

Texture
1st place-Jam #1 (69 points)
2nd place-Jam #3 (51 points)
3rd place-Jam #2 (48 points)

The group preferred the runnier, lumpier jam. Most of the anecdotal comments I heard, reflected that the testers felt it looked and tasted the way homemade jam should.

Over-all Favourite
1st place-Jam #1 (75 points)
2nd place-Jam #3 (50 points)
3rd place-Jam #2 (43 points)

And no surprises here. Jam #1 was the clear favourite. It ranked first in every category, with the exception of colour. I was also surprised to see that, for the most part, the jams ranked the same in every category, even though the preferences varied from tester to tester. Facinating.

So, there you go. My little jam experiment.
A big thank you to Shawn and the kids for doing the picking, my testers for their due diligence and attention to detail, and to Carolyn, my stats keeper. I had a blast.

Mood Music... by Barbara (Ruth)

According to the omniscient Google, there are ten songs called “In the Mood”, starting with Glenn Miller’s classic Big Band version in 1940, then some lesser known musicians and bands in the 50s, and all the way through the 70s with Rush and Bette Midler (not together – can you imagine?), the 80s with Robert plant, and finally in the 90s with Chicago.

Most of them are about being in the mood for love, but it’s Robert Plant’s version that captured my intention when I thought of this post title:

I'm in the mood for a melody

I'm in the mood for a melody

I'm in the mood

I can make you dance - I can make you sing

I can make you dance - I can make you sing

If you want me to

Music and mood. I don’t know about you, but for me these two things are unquestionably intertwined. Mood can certainly impact which music I choose, but I can also (if I feel like it) influence or change my mood with music.

There’s a new app called “Mood Agent”. It’s pretty clever, and differs only slightly from the Genius function in iTunes in that you can program your present mood using sliders – happy, angry, sensual, and tender – and the app builds a play list accordingly.

So in my music library it might build these types of playlists:

• Sensual: Lost Without You (Robin Thicke), Hush (LL Cool J), You’re Just Too Good to be True (Lauren Hill)
• Tender: Hallelujah (the Canadian Tenors), I Will Play a Rhapsody (Burton Cummings), Beautiful (Carole King), Bridge Over Troubled Water (Simon & Garfunkel), How Deep is Your Love (Bee Gees)
• Happy: Island in the Sun (Gorillaz), Dancing Queen (Abba), Rio (Duran Duran), Saturday in the Park (Chicago), Viva la Vida (Coldplay), Say Hey (Michael Franti),
• Angry: I Can’t Win (Default), In the End (Linkin Park), Head Like a Hole (Nine Inch Nails), Renegade (Styx), Bawitdaba (Kid Rock), Rolling (Limp Bizkit), Fake It (Seether), Lose Yourself (Eminem)

Like I said, clever, but I don’t think it goes far enough. I’d like to add some categories:

Sad and you want to be sadder in a pathetic, feeling sorry for yourself way: All by Myself (Eric Carmen… a la Bridget Jones Diary), I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For (U2), Why Does it Always Rain on Me (Travis), I’ll Say Goodbye to Love (Carpenters), Big Girls Don’t Cry (Fergie), Fix You (Coldplay), The Prayer (Celine Dion & Andrea Bocelli… this probably isn’t a sad song, per se, but it always makes me cry)


Psyching Yourself Up During the commute to work (musical caffeine): Enter Sandman (Metallica), Sweet Child o’ Mine (Guns n Roses), Sure Shot (Beastie Boys), Radioactive (Kings of Leon)

Stressed During the commute home after a long day (chillax): Dreamboat Annie (Heart), Summer Girls (LFO), American Girl (Estelle f. Kanye West), Put Your Records On (Corinne Bailey Ray), Music 
& Wine (Blue Six), American Baby (Dave Matthews), The Moment I Said It (Imogen Heap)


Depressed and staring at the Treadmill when you’d rather be eating ice cream: I’ve Got the Power (Snap), If We Ever Meet Again (Timbaland f. Katy Perry), Starlight (The Superman Lovers), I Don’t Feel Like Dancing (Scissor Sisters), Firework (Katy Perry), Damn Girl (Justin Timberlake – perfect beat for ab workout)


Annoyed because you are trying to keep car passengers awake and engaged on a roadtrip (i.e. you want them to want to sing along even though they don’t know the words): Rockstar (Nickelback), Janie’s Got a Gun (Aerosmith), Blame It (Jamie Foxx), Take on Me (A-Ha), Don’t Stop Believin’ (Journey), More Than a Feelin’ (Boston), Grace Kelly (Mika), Telephone (Lady Gaga & Beyonce), Teenagers (My Chemical Romance)

Bored on a solo roadtrip and you need to stay awake (i.e. need to sing along to songs others would only mock): Red and Black (Les Miserables), Oklahoma (Oklahoma – duh), Lida Rose (Music Man), Scenes from an Italian Restaurant (Billy Joel), Lovely Day (Bill Withers), Reminiscing (Little River Band)

Dockside on a perfect summer day: Heaven (Psychadelic Furs), I Like It (Enrique Iglesias), Carry Out (Timbaland f. JT), Unwritten (Natasha Bedingfield), Party in the USA (Milie Cyrus – don’t judge), Virtual Insanity (Jamiroquai)

I could go on, but I’m not in the mood. And I don’t think there’s a song for that. 

Mood Music...by (Angela) Jean

Ruth picked today's twofer topic and I thought I would take the opportunity to share the current favourite recording around our house.

Tyler Yarema is a Toronto piano player/singer. He and His Rhythm have been a staple of the downtown jazz & blues scene for more than a decade. His regular gigs on Tuesday and Saturday nights at the Reservoir Lounge on Wellington Street are a must-see if you're in town for a visit, and if you happen to live in Toronto and haven't been, you're missing out. The place has a fun vibe, great food and amazing acts all week.

Tyler's music is "jazz-blues man meets the Beatles" and set lists are comprised of tunes from artists ranging from Professor Longhair to Duke Ellington to the Beatles to Motown. The current cover of I've Just Seen a Face is haunting me right now and I find myself humming it throughout the day.

The latest recording features a stellar band of Toronto's finest jazz musicians. Michael Carson, bass, William Sperandei, trumpet, Jesse Barksdale guitar, Richard Underhill, Scott Neilson & Alison Young, sax, and some mighty fine drumming by Mark Marish and Shawn Abedin.

The album was recorded at Canterbury Studios over a very short time period and has that fresh feeling of a live recording. It manages to capture the party-like experience of  being at the Res on a Saturday night. Best of all, and perhaps most importantly, it's just plain fun. These guys make it sound easy and effortless. If you can listen to any of these tunes without getting up and dancing or at least tapping your foot, you have no soul. 

There is nothing quite an uninhibited as a child dancing. They have no fear and no shame. They can feel music deep down, in a way that as we age we forget how to do, and it moves them. This music is in no way designed or intended for children, but my kids have responded to it in a way that surprised us. It is currently beating out Raffi as #1 on our playlist. This recording gets them movin and shakin and I know you would love it to.

And guess what? It's your lucky day. You can purchase the whole recording, or just your favourite parts, on iTunes.

If you are planning a trip to the Res, let me know. I'll come with!

Tyler Yarema & His Rhythm playing an outdoor event on Canada Day, 2011

Hood, Sweet Hood....by Barbara (Ruth)

Toronto is a city of over 200 neighbourhoods, each with its own culture, vibe, and reputation. There's "The Danforth" (centre of Greek culture), "The Distillery" (an up-and-coming area built around an old, you guessed it, distillery), Yonge & Eglinton (or, Yonge & Eg... or, Yonge & Eligible because of all the singletons),  "The Annex" (where a bunch of University students live), and "Rosedale" (home of the uber rich),  just to name a few.

My neighbourhood is officially called "The Beach", although some (including me) still call it "The Beaches". Back in 1793 it was a swampy shoreline with a few large homes - the current beach was created in 1930 with a continuous, wide boardwalk that exists today. It soon became a mecca for "city folk", with amusement parks, social and swimming clubs.

It still is a mecca for city folk! Just 20 minutes on the streetcar and you leave downtown Toronto for the clean and swimmable waters of The Beach(es).

Looking east along the boardwalk

Leuty lifeguard station, c. 1920

Locals practice stone balancing - some of them are really good!

Hundreds play beach volleyball every evening during the week and on weekends

There have actually been a couple of public debates over whether the neighbourhood is called the historic name "The Beach", or the more common name of "The Beaches" used particularly by newcomers (like me). Finally in 2006 the local business improvement association held a vote, and "The Beach" won with 58% of the vote.

I guess it's not that important that you know that, but it does add to some of the mystique of this neighbourhood. The history is everywhere here, from the houses and the landmarks, to the old tree-lined streets. Residents feel a certain sense of community spirit, and with all the construction and growth there is a surge of local pride to keep out the "big box" stores and preserve the ambiance of the neighbourhood.

I love my neighbourhood for all these reasons and because it allows a city girl to have a little bit of olde-fashioned rural home life at the same time. Here are a few more reasons I love my 'hood:

Tree-lined streets - in autumn these trees look like they're on fire.

The Fox Theatre, built in 1914. It's the longest operating theatre in North America!

My local Sunday breakfast hangout

Numerous places to buy local produce.

Walks on the boardwalk with a BFF.

Lots and lots of walking and biking trails.

Meat on the Beach - pretty popular butcher with some good produce as well. This
truck is part of their advertising display every weekend.

The Firehall, still working! c. 1905

My favourite flower shop, run by Jasmine. 

Historic homes - someday I want to own this one.

Lovely semi-detached homes. These two are across the street from me,
and inhabited by two lovely families - two of the best reasons I
love my 'hood.

On the day you were born...by (Angela) Jean

In the days before your arrival, I had no doubt you were coming soon. I was nesting like a maniac. Your Beppe and Nonno came for a visit and I insisted that we remove all of the California shutters in the kitchen and take them outside and scrub them. The next day, I took a bucket of soapy water out to the patio and gave Amelia's Big Cat and Little Cat a bath.

That same day, I went out for lunch with Auntie Huma, and as legend goes, a meal with Auntie Huma is a sure-fire way to bring on labour.

I woke up the next morning and had a feeling that today was the day. I told your Dad, and he seemed skeptical, but asked if he should make the call to sub out of his gig that night. Since I hadn't had any contractions yet, I was hesitant and suggested we wait until 11am to see what happened. We had some breakfast, then got the stroller out, and took your sister for a long walk. I wanted to get things going.

It was July 9th, but it wasn't too hot or humid so we walked and walked and walked. The contractions started within a few minutes of walking, but they weren't strong or frequent. I didn't want to call the family yet because I didn't  know how long it would take, and I didn't want them to get too excited. We kept walking, and I had a giddy feeling of excitement mixed with fear...the one you get when you know birth is imminent, but you remember that there are still a few hurdles before you get to meet your little one. I gave Daddy the go-ahead to sub out of his gig.

We came back home, and I tried to stay on my feet, but I was getting tired. I watered the garden and all the flower baskets, but then I thought I should have a rest. As soon as I lied down in my bed, the contractions stopped. Hmph. I didn't like that one bit. I wanted my baby to come, but I forced myself to have a little nap.

When I woke up and started moving around, the contractions started up again. We had some supper and I packed our bags for the hospital. I went outside again and watered the front garden. As I was watering, Uncle Ken, Ethan, Sam and Maddie rode by on their bikes. We chatted with them and I said that I thought I was having a baby later that night. Uncle Ken looked a bit confused, but he nodded and smiled.

At 7pm, we put Amelia to bed, and I was getting frustrated. As long as I was moving around, I had contractions, but when I sat down they stopped.

We finally called your Grandpa and Grandma and told them that we thought things were happening but we weren't sure. We told them we'd call as soon as we had some news. We called Beppe and Nonno and said that we might be calling them to come to stay with Amelia if things started moving any faster. By about 9pm I was feeling silly that I had asked Daddy to miss his gig and there was still no baby. I suggested that he get some sleep, just in case you decided to come in the night. I wanted him to be rested for the trip to the hospital.

I called Beppe and Nonno to tell them that I was going to bed. I had given up hope that you were coming that day. I put on my jammies, brushed my teeth, and got into bed. As soon as my head hit the pillow I felt a POP! My water had broken! One second later, I had a powerful contraction. It was 10pm.

I picked up the phone and called Beppe and Nonno and told them to come right away. They said they would leave in a few minutes, and be here within two hours. I woke Daddy up and we started timing contractions. They were about seven minutes apart, and strong. I started to worry that maybe Beppe and Nonno wouldn't make it in time.

I spent the next two hours sitting on the couch, in the dark, breathing and letting you do your work. I could feel you moving around and I was getting so excited to meet you.

Beppe and Nonno arrived at midnight, and by 12:15, Daddy and I were headed down the QEW to Toronto. My family doctor delivers babies, and since her practice is in Toronto we had to go to Women's College Hospital to have you. It was about a forty minute drive but I remember very little of it. Daddy and I didn't talk at all. I was too busy dealing with contractions, that by this point, were very powerful, and seemed to be coming one after the other, with very little break in between. Daddy was worried you were going to be born in the car.

When we arrived at the maternity floor it was very quiet. The nurse put us in the triage area and said she would have a doctor come to check me. We waited. Things were progressing quickly at this point....but nobody came....we were completely alone until about 2am. I was not comfortable on the triage gurney, so I sat in a chair. I was in hard labour, but I was completely silent. I had my eyes closed and Daddy even thought I was sleeping!

Finally, an intern came. She checked me....and anyone who has had a baby knows that 'checking' is not a pleasant experience. She couldn't get a good 'feel' because there was still some membrane between your head and my cervix. She called for the doctor and I got the bonus of being 'checked' again. Lucky Mama. Unfortunately, all the checking broke my labour trance and at this point I started to feel like the pain was overwhelming. The doctors told me I was 7cm dilated, but that you weren't moving down because there was a pouch of fluid and membrane in your way. They found us a labour room and I had to walk there...no easy feat.

The next hour was the hardest part. I had managed labour the first time with no pain medication, but this was different. The contractions were coming so quickly that I couldn't catch my breath. I wasn't sure how much longer it was going to take, and I didn't think I could last. I was crying and kept saying "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." over and over again. Your Dad kept asking my what I was sorry about and I said "I need DRUGS!" He said "That's nothing to be sorry about" and we asked for the anesthesiologist to come. She was busy, and didn't get there for another 20 minutes. By this time it was about 4am. Since I had initially said I didn't want pain medication, I didn't have an IV, so before I could get an epidural I needed one. Once the IV was in, they sat me up and cleaned my back with iodine. The anesthesiologist prepared the needle and had it held up to my spine. She asked me to hold still, but I just couldn't. As my next contraction came, a huge gush of fluid poured out and the nurse yelled for the doctor who was just walking in the door. The doctor said she wanted to check me again before the epidural. I was yelling "No! No! No!" but they rolled me over anyway. Without even 'checking' the doctor said '"You're not having an epidural. You're having a BABY!" Your head was practically already out. The anesthesiologist put down her giant needle and clapped her hands. "Yay! I'm staying for this! I NEVER get to watch a natural childbirth!" and she grabbed my right leg. I let out an epic yell and less than a minute later, you shot out like a cannonball. I wish I was exaggerating. It was 4:19am.

As soon as you were plopped on top of my chest I knew you were perfect. You were only 3oz smaller than your sister was, but I said "He's so TINY". I was surprised to see what little hair you had. I got to hold you for a long time but finally the nurse needed to weigh you and wipe all the junk off of you. A few minutes later you were back with me and nursed for the first time. You were an expert, and so was I.

The next several hours are a blur. There was the little matter of the 120 stitches in my perineum, which we will not discuss here except to say....ouchie.

We called Beppe and Nonno and Grandma and Granpa and asked them to spread the news. We told them your name and I think they were all surprised.

As soon as we were released from the Labour floor to the Post-Partum floor, we asked for an early discharge. The only room available for us was a ward room with 3 other mothers and babies so I knew I would get more peace and quiet at home. Grandma and Grandpa went to the house to pick up Amelia, and Beppe and Nonno came to the hospital. We were discharged by 3pm. I don't remember the walk to the car, but it can't have been comfortable. I do remember that you were as quiet as a mouse the whole way home. I kept turning around to look in the back seat to make sure you were breathing. You were such a great sleeper, right from the first day.

We were home by 4pm and shortly after that, Grandma and Grandpa brought Amelia home to meet her baby brother. Your sister was less than thrilled at the time, but she has grown to love you as much as Daddy and I do.

Grandma and Grandpa seemed oddly quiet and we learned then that Grandma's sister, Aunt Iris, had had a terrible stroke a few hours earlier. They left to go see her at the hospital, but sadly she never regained consciousness. She was removed from life support two days later, and you attended her funeral when you were 6 days old. Your birth was such a blessing to the family and helped everyone through a very difficult time. I think having you there at her funeral is something that everyone will remember about that day. I am sad that you never got the chance to meet Aunt Iris, but I know she will always watch over you.

It has been two years now, and I am thankful for you every day.

You are a sweet, fun and happy little boy. You have a beautiful face, and eyes so deep and dark that I often cant even see your pupils.

You love your sister, your Teddy, and Elmo most of all. You will read books for ages and your hugs lift my soul on days when I really need some soul lifting. You are easy-going (most of the time) and you adjust to change with very little trouble. You fit perfectly into our little family. In fact, we can't imagine it without you.

Happy Birthday Otis. Happy Birthday to you.

Summer Sangria...by (Angela) Jean

I come from a family of wine enthusiasts. They aren't the kind of wine enthusiasts that are snobbish about wine or the kind that spend a lot of time talking about 'bouquets' or 'end notes' or 'mouth-feel'. They don't buy really expensive wine...almost everyone in my family makes their own wine. They just like wine and drink wine. Often.
In that respect, I'm the a-typical one. It's not that I don't like wine, I just don't drink it as often as the rest of them. I can even go months without it. I have my vices, but wine is not one of them.
With all that said, lately, I've been craving sangria. I enjoyed an amazing pitcher of sangria on a patio in Yorkville, while out for drinks with colleagues recently. Ever since, I've had a hankering to make my own.
I've canvassed some of my foodie friends for recipes and I've done some research. From what I've found you really can't go wrong. You must have wine, you must have fruit and you must have fruit juice, but other than that, the options for sangria ingredients are many and varied. Which wine, fruit or juice you use is up to you. Some recipes call for brandy, some add soda water, some even include gin! It seems to come down to personal preference and your sense of adventure.
I gave it my first try yesterday. My in-laws came for dinner to celebrate my husband's birthday. It was a beautiful summer evening so we ate outside. The sangria was a big hit.
So, if you are looking for something fruity and fresh to sip on the patio, here's my recipe. It's a hybrid of several recipes I found online, and one from my friend Dana (stay tuned for a post about her etsy site soon!).

Ingredients
2 bottles dry red wine (I chose a Spanish Rioja...it's sangria after all)
1 cup brandy
1/2 cup triple-sec
1 cup orange juice
1 cup mango juice
1 cup pomegranate juice
2 oranges, sliced
1 lemon, sliced
2 limes, sliced
2 apples sliced
a couple handfuls of cherries, pitted and sliced in half
club soda (optional)
ice....lots of ice

Instructions
In a (very) large pitcher (I suppose you could use a soup pot if you don't have a large pitcher) mix the wine, brandy, triple sec and juice. Add all the sliced fruit.

Stir. (see? this is really not hard).

Some of the recipes I saw called for sugar or simple syrup (basically sugar water). I didn't add any, but if you like it sweeter you could...or you could just add more juice. Refrigerate. Some recipes said you have to let it sit for 24 hours. I only had 3, but it was still lovely. I had some of the leftovers today and it was also good. If you have time, let it sit. If you don't...well, it'll be fine.
Fill the glasses with ice, and pour in the chilled sangria. If you want a fizzy version, add the club soda.

Salud!

Back and Forth...by (Angela) Jean

Where I grew up, commuting didn't exist. At least the kind of commuting I know today. My parents both worked about a 5-10 minute drive from where we lived. If their work day ended at 5pm, we expected them to walk through the door at 5:10. They even came home for lunch! I'm sure to them, what I do today is absolutely insane, and in many ways they're right.

For me, a typical day starts at 6:10am, when I leave the house to walk to the corner to catch the city bus. I live right at the end of my street so that takes about 6-8 minutes...on a good day. When the snow is up to my knees, (not too many people shovel their sidewalks before 6:10am) I give myself some extra time. For most of the year, I walk this walk in darkness, but since the longest days are now upon us, my morning walks are peaceful and bright.

I wait at the bus stop, PRESTO card in hand.

I love my PRESTO card...it's the newly instituted transit fare payment card that I can use on all 3 legs of my journey. It automatically calculates the proper fare for each transit type, and when my balance dips below $20, it tops itself up and charges my credit card. No more buying monthly passes or waiting in line for tickets or tokens. Brilliant!

Since my stop is the first on the route, I'm usually the first one to board. The bus continues on its meandering path around the neighbourhood, picking up a full load of early travelers, and after a 25 minute ride, drops us off at the GO station. (GO Transit is the commuter train service for the Greater Toronto Area, and according to its website it carries 57 million passengers a year).

I don't actually get to ride one of these buses, but I think they are real snazzy-lookin.

I board my train to Toronto at 6:55am. It's the first Express train of the day, meaning it has stopped at all the stops from Hamilton, but from my stop, it goes straight to Union with no stops.

This is what an empty train looks like, but the morning trains are so packed that I'm lucky if I get a seat at all.

On this day I had to sit on the stairs between the upper and lower levels.

The train ride is pleasant enough. Nobody talks on the GO. It's eerily quiet. Most people read books or newspapers or obsessively check their Blackberries (or pretend to check their Blackberry, but instead secretly take photographs to post on their blog...cough...cough).

The scenery? Well...it depends on what side of the train you're on. If you look out the north-facing windows, you see factories, scrap yards, train yards, golf courses and residential neighbourhoods.

If you look out the south-facing windows, you see the QEW, the Gardiner Expressway, and the Toronto skyline.

You can also see Lake Ontario and airplanes taking off from the Island Airport. On this day, at this particular moment, the plane in the photo holds none other than my co-blogger Ruth, on a flight to Ottawa. For reals. (you might have to click on the photo to see the plane)

I arrive at Union Station at a little past 7:30am...on a good day...I could go on ad nauseum about GO train delays, but it might put you into a coma.

From there, I follow the underground maze to the Subway and ride up to College Station.

On most days, I'm at my desk by about 7:45. Phew. Are you tired yet?
If you don't do this kind of thing on a daily basis, you probably think I'm nuts. And I would agree with you.
Why do I do it? Why do I spend more time during the week riding transit than I spend with my kids? Why do I spend almost $300 a month to get to work? It's crazy, right? I don't think I have a good answer. I love where I live, and I love my work. They just happen to be too far away from each other. When we moved to our house, I was on maternity leave and I knew that I would be commuting when I returned to work. I knew the train ride was 30 minutes, but I didn't factor in the time to get to the train, or the subway time once I arrived in the city. If I had really understood the complete commuting picture, I would have thought twice about buying this house.
In my mind 3 hours of commuting time a day is not sustainable long-term. Can I see myself doing this for another 20 years? I don't think so. But, for the time being, I have no plans to move and I am not looking for another job so I choose to focus on the positive. I use my commuting time as "me" time. I read novels. I cyber-stalk my friends, relatives and random acquaintances on Facebook and Twitter. I read other people's blogs and brainstorm my own blog topics. I catch up on my texts and emails. Sometimes I snooze and sometimes, if it had been one of those days, I eat ice cream (but only on the way home...not at 7am!)
I think things through, and I let go of the stress of the day, so that when I do get home I can be completely and fully present.