Shopping With a Soul

It's that time of year once again when malls turn into roller derby arenas and shopping becomes a competitive sport where only the fittest survive. Elbows raised into that pose ensuring self-defence and credit cards readied for battle, we enter into the lion's den all in pursuit of sourcing that one "perfect gift". But, what if I could help? What if you could knock a few names off of that interminable list all from the comfort of your laptop and feel particularly spiritual about your purchases as well?

Enter my friends at Benevolent Baubles. (Full disclosure: The people who are the brains behind this new and distinctive jewelry business really are my friends, but I am receiving absolutely no compensation for this post in any manner whatsoever.) Using materials sourced from around the world, these two sisters/business partners are creating unique and beautiful pieces that range from funky to chunky, daytime to dainty. And while their necklaces, earrings, and bracelets are aesthetically beautiful and truly exclusive, it is their business model that has really caught my attention.

Many of the semi-precious stones, gems, ceramics and other articles that they use in their work have been purchased from women's micro-businesses and fair trade suppliers from around the globe. They handcraft each piece individually in an attempt to make that special creation truly fit the individual. They will even custom design on request. Their online store is now up and running so that browsing can be done at one's leisure and ordering and shipping are simple without the bruising of a contact recreational sport.

But, it is their devotion to altruism and worthy causes that sets Benevolent Baubles apart from the others, and makes them a must-shop internet locale this holiday season. A portion of each purchase made will be donated to the charity of your choice. There is a list of suggested and socially conscious organizations on their site, but if you request a certain group or charitable association, they will direct your donation appropriately. Hence the "Benevolent" part of their moniker.

I am not a great shopper. I sincerely don't enjoy the process and that is especially true at this time of year. Benevolent Baubles has put a beneficent face on the gift of giving. It is very much shopping with a soul.

If you are in the Toronto area you can contact them directly to book a home or office event. If not please check them out at http://www.benevolentbaubles.ca/index.html or on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/BenevolentBaubles

What Constitutes an Emergency?

A question: When is an emergency not an emergency?

Answer: When somebody else tells you that it isn't.

History: This tale of misery actually began almost three weeks ago. As is common practice for him, The Husband went to see his dentist for his quatra-yearly check-up. Yes, you read that correctly. He sees his dentist 4 times a year. You see he has a history of gum issues, and as a result of these past problems is meticulous about his oral hygiene. One day I will compose an entire post about his dental care regime, but for now just know that he is a dentist's wet dream. At this particular appointment, He was given the full workup. Cleaning, thorough check-up, and.....here's the kicker..... a full set of X-rays. He left the office with a clean bill of dental health. That was two weeks ago this coming Thursday. The hell was just beginning.

On Saturday evening, following an evening out with friends, he began complaining of stiffness in his jaw and a radiating pain from his lower lip to his right ear. He thought that maybe the hygienist had struck a nerve during his cleaning two days before and took a couple of Advil before bed. That lasted him all of an hour. By midnight he was literally screaming in pain, pleading for relief. Now, it should be noted that this man has an extremely high pain threshold. He has suffered countless bouts with kidney stones and several procedures to alleviate them. That said, I have never seen him so uncomfortable from anything. By the next morning, (Sunday) he was searching the Internet for emergency dental clinics. If he was willing to visit some strange dentist, than I knew this was serious. A trip north of the city saw him wait over 40 minutes, spend $140.00, have another set of x-rays taken, see a dentist young enough to be his daughter, only to be told that nothing was wrong. She told him to continue taking the Advil, gave him a prescription for an antibiotic that he refused to fill because he was suspicious of the non-diagnosis, and told him to rest. Rest?? He was literally in tears from the pain.

Another sleepless night, saw him calling his own dentist on Monday morning. His regular guy isn't in on Mondays, so he saw the new associate, another young woman who he thought might like to meet Older Son. Dentistry seems to be a young woman's game these days. Another $60.00 spent to be told that there was still nothing wrong. He was popping painkillers like breath mints, but nothing was wrong.

Fast forward two more unbearable nights to Wednesday. By now, he could hardly talk, he was displaying some puffiness on the right side of his face, eating was off the table, and sleep was but a memory. He finally got in to see his own dentist that afternoon. Another set of X-rays (cost: $40.00) and a whole lot of painful probing finally revealed a small crack in a rear molar and dead roots underneath. It is possible that the roots were interfering with a nerve which might be causing the radiating pain. Dentist #3 gave him two options. Remove the tooth, do a root canal, and put in a crown or remove the tooth and put in an implant. Through his haze of pain all The Husband could hear was "Remove the tooth" and frankly it couldn't come soon enough.

"Now?" He moaned hopefully.

"Oh no"' replied Dentist #3 "You will have to visit an oral surgeon. We will make you an appointment......6 days hence!" (Ok. The dentist probably didn't say "hence", but it makes for a better story.)

6 days. 6 days of more pain, more sleepless nights, more fasting, more misery. 6 days. Dentist #3 gave him Tylenol 3 to alternate with the Advil and a new prescription for antibiotics to combat any infection that might be present. He charged him $60.00 for the pills but didn't invoice him for the visit. What a guy!

Wait. It gets better. When The Husband called the oral surgeon's office to confirm that he would be sedated for the procedure, he was told that he would first need to come in for a consultation and then several days later they would do the extraction. He refused. Just get the f***ing thing out.

And so....here we are. Today's the day. Supposedly. I began composing this post from the waiting room of the oral surgeon's office, hoping against hope that this nightmare was finally ending. I should have known better. When The Husband was called in for the procedure, he explained the whole gruesome tale to Dentist #4 and asked if he could please be sedated. "Sure", replied the nice young dentist. "But you will have to return later this afternoon because I just don't have the time right now."

So here we stand. We will return this afternoon for a surgery that has been almost two weeks in the making. I am left fuming at the entire ordeal and I am not even the one In pain. Wouldn't you think that this mess constituted a dental emergency? Why couldn't the first two dentists read a basic X-ray? Shouldn't the oral surgeon have squeezed him in given the amount of pain he was so obviously suffering rather than have him wait an additional 6 days? When is an emergency truly an emergency? Did he have to lie bleeding and broken for somebody, anybody, to takes his pain seriously? I am thinking that the entire industry needs a rethink as to the way it deals with people in pain.

Oh....and this ordeal has already cost us almost $1100.00. Talk about piling on the misery.

Posted with Blogsy

Meatless Monday Soup Edition 2012

It is that time of year in the Great White North when soup can be the perfect meal for a chilly November evening. Last year I shared three of my favourite soup vegetarian soup recipes that are hits here. (Well, with me anyway!) The Husband is not a huge soup eater. He prefers his soup to eat like a meal, but neither of us like the canned stuff. Far too much sodium and ingredients that we cannot pronounce. Soup is too easy to prepare to resort to processed crap. So here are two recipes for soups that are hearty and truly satisfy.

Minestrone Soup 

2 tblsp olive oil, plus more for serving if desired
1 medium red onion, chopped
2 medium carrots, peeled and diced
1 large celery stalk, diced
1/4 teaspoon red-pepper flakes
1 teaspoon minced fresh rosemary, or 1/4 teaspoon dried
Coarse salt and ground pepper
1 can (14.5 ounces) whole peeled tomatoes, drained and finely chopped
1 large potato, peeled and diced (I haves also used sweet potato)
1/4 head green cabbage (1/2 pound), cored and thinly sliced
1 can (15 ounces) kidney beans, rinsed and drained
1/2 pound green beans, trimmed and cut into 1-inch pieces
1/4 cup thinly sliced fresh basil, plus torn leaves for serving (optional)
3/4 cup grated Parmesan, for serving
Directions

In a large pot, heat oil over medium. Add onion, carrots, celery, red-pepper flakes, rosemary, 1 1/2 teaspoons salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until onion begins to turn golden, 5 to 8 minutes.
Add tomatoes; cook until some of the liquid evaporates, 1 minute. Add potato, cabbage, cannellini beans, and 7 cups water; bring to a boil. Stir in green beans.
Reduce to a simmer, and cook until all the vegetables are tender, about 20 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Serve sprinkled with Parmesan and, if using, torn basil. Drizzle with more oil, if desired.
Variations
For variations on this classic version, try swapping green pepper for green beans, kale for cabbage, and chickpeas for beans

"Cream" of Broccoli Soup

1 bunch broccoli, diced and cut
2 tsp. butter
1 medium onion
1 large apple , peeled, cored and diced (granny smith is best)
4 cups vegetable stock
2 tablespoon parsely, minced

Melt butter. Add onion and apples. Cook slowly for 10 minutes over low heat. Add stock and broccoli. Bring to a boil. Cover and cook for 30 minutes. Puree in food processor or with hand held. Serve hot or cold.

Enjoy!

Lest We Forget

Perspective is a funny thing. Growing up in Toronto in the 1970s, my perspective on the significance of Remembrance Day was surely tainted by school choir performances, poppy drives, and a half day off of regular classes. Certainly we listened to the stories of our veterans as they visited in their finery, but we didn't pay much heed. War tales for us were distant, esoteric, or worse yet....something that Americans did. I just couldn't grasp the connection.

Of course much has changed in these intervening years. I have a great reverence and appreciation for those who have served and those who continue to serve. And I must admit that much of my thoughts on the subject have been influenced by one man, my friend Jack. 

I met Jack and his lovely wife when I first came to work at Temple "Sings All the Time and Won't Shut Up". Jack had already retired from the Canadian Forces by the time I had made his acquaintance, and was a tireless worker and champion for veteran's causes. But, that isn't how I saw Jack. To me, Jack was a member of my synagogue community, a choir member, a regular at Torah study, a joke teller, a character, and my friend's dad. Jack was just Jack. Perspective. That is, until Remembrance Week rolled around. Then Jack became the Squadron Leader. He was dogged and unwavering. He saw it as his mission to educate and leave an impression, a perspective. He visited countless schools to talk to the kids. He attended ceremonies across the city and he was the featured speaker at many. A man small in stature, his voice boomed with fervour and clarity as he recounted the history and the horrors of war. He especially spoke with great pride of the accomplishments of Canadian Jewish War Veterans. It was and still is Jack's great passion.

Every year since I have known him, Jack has been joining us on the bimah on the Shabbat closest to Remembrance Day to speak, to recount, to educate, and to pray for the fallen. To grant perspective. But the years have taken their toll and his health isn't what it was, even last year. There were many in our community who asked if Jack was going to speak this year. We just weren't certain. We should have known better. As we gathered for Shabbat yesterday, there was Jack sitting regally in the first row, his medals shining across his chest. When it came his time to speak, he accepted the arm of his daughter to help him to the bimah, but he refused the invitation of a chair. He began quietly; telling us all of the history of the poem he was about to recite. His voice cracking just a bit. Time can be cruel. And then....as if a switch had gone off in his head....he spoke the words of the poem with eloquence, clarity, passion, and an amplification that took us back years. He was once again Squadron Leader Jack. I cried softly in my seat as I watched this proud man turn back the clock and share his perspective.

Last month, Jack was awarded the Queen's Diamond Jubilee Medal given to "honour significant contributions and achievements by Canadians" in recognition of Her Majesty's 60 years on the throne. (Remarkably, our small congregation is home to two recipients of this high honour! Kol Ha-Kavod) Jack beamed with pride as he showed me the medal. It is an honour most well-deserved. 

It is easy to buy a poppy and place it on our jackets. It is easy to stop at 11:00 am today and pause to remember, but how many of us actually do it. I do. All because my friend Jack has given me a new perspective. Lest we forget.

Here is the poem that Jack recited yesterday.

High Flight

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth

And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;

Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth

Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung

High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,

I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung

My eager craft through footless halls of air...

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue

I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace

Where never lark, or even eagle flew -

And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod

The high untrespassed sanctity of space,

Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

Officer John G. Magee, Jr. - November, 1941

Shabbat Music Break

Today's Shabbat Music Break comes from the crystal clear voice of Cheryl Wheeler. Cheryl is a New England based singer/songwriter in the new folk tradition. Her music is passionate, true, and honest and her guitar skills are exceptional. Her songs have been covered by such diverse artists as Garth Brooks, Kenny Loggins, Peter, Paul, and Mary, Holly Near, and of course Suzy Bogguss' rendition of today's featured tune Aces. Cheryl's voice is pure and beautiful, and I have always wondered why she hasn't achieved the success of some of her more famous contemporaries like Shawn Colvin and Mary Chapin Carpenter.  Please enjoy!

Bond Through Music

James Bond officially turns 50 today. Somehow it makes me feel just a little bit better to know that the world's most famous spy (Isn't there an oxymoron in there somewhere?) is older than me. Dr. No, 007's first movie incarnation was released way back in October of 1962, and with today's opening of Skyfall, Mr. Bond officially enters middle age.

Truth be told I have never been a huge fan of the Bond movies. They are most definitely skewed towards a male audience, (not that there's anything wrong with that) and they always contain that slight tinge of misogyny that has put me off. I mean, c'mon! How is any woman supposed to connect to female characters suggestively named Pussy Galore, Plenty O'toole, or Holly Goodhead? I am only guessing here, but I would venture to say that most women attend Bond showings at the behest of their husbands, boyfriends, sons, fathers, and other male friends. It's only fair after all. Payback for making them sit through The Notebook and Beaches. 

But the songs are a whole other story. They forever define the tenor of the film. They have become iconic. And....they have had some awesome talent behind them. Herewith I offer you my top 5 favourite Bond themes. Please feel free to disagree and offer your own suggestions in the comments section. Remember...chocolate and vanilla.

5. The Spy who Loved Me-Carly Simon


4. Live and Let Die-Paul McCartney and Wings


3. For Your Eyes Only-Sheena Easton


2. Diamonds Are Forever-Shirley Bassey


1. Goldfinger-Shirley Bassey


There is absolutely nothing that says "Bond, James Bond" like Shirley Bassey singing. As a final thought I offer you this year's theme from Skyfall by Adele. Does it measure up?

Skyfall-Adele

My Evangelical Moment (It's Not What You Think!)

How is it possible that I am almost fifty years old and only now am I discovering the healing and restorative properties of alcohol? Stunning, I know. And it is made all the more remarkable by the simple fact that The Husband owns and operates an artisan distillery  that is producing some very well received whiskies and vodkas. (Shameless personal plug: Please check out his website and purchase a bottle or two. Girl's gotta eat, ya know!) Me? Well, I just have never cared for any of it. I have found the taste of most spirits to be akin to swallowing paint thinner. And wines..well...as flavourful as many might find them, they have always been less than satisfying to my underdeveloped palate. I hate and fear the loss of control that liquor affords; once a type A always a type A, I suppose. I have zero physical tolerance for the stuff given my almost half century of teetotalism. My friends have experienced first hand that I literally cannot tell my left hand from my right when I drink even modest amounts of the grape. Also.....and this is a big one for somebody who has constantly battled extra poundage......I have always hated the thought of drinking my calories. I would much rather indulge in a plate of fries or some chocolate. My conventional thought was that they were so much more satisfying. As a result, alcohol has been a rare indulgence for me throughout my lifetime.

But I have come to see the error of my ways. I have come to understand that there is true magic in a glass of cabernet and great curative properties in a snifter of brandy. I realize that I am not stating anything cutting edge that the average frat boy or stay at home mom hasn't known for years, but for me this is as close to a religious conversion as I think I will ever get. I have tried to ascertain when my personal "Road to Tarshish" moment occurred, and as near as I can deduce it started last year around Rosh Hashana.

Last summer brought on a horrible asthma season. The wheezing and coughing that I experienced was never calmed enough by the myriad of bronchi-inhalers, anti-histamines, steroidal puffers and an assortment of herbal remedies. In fact, a week before the High Holidays I came down with a horrible case of laryngitis brought on by the symptoms and after effects of each successive attack. As if my stress levels surrounding the most vocally taxing time of the year weren't enough, now I had to cope with the very real possibility of not being able to sing. The Husband, ever the saint at this particular time of year, (the religious metaphors simply abound, don't they?) was once again ready with his 3S cure all. This time I readily accepted the scotch with willing throat and found that while I still couldn't understand the worldwide fuss over single malts, I did find that there was indeed a medicinal property that allowed me the get through the Ten Days of Awe in decent if not perfect order. After the holidays, I promptly returned to my water guzzling ways exclusively.

But the strangest thing happened. I found that I missed it. Not the taste, mind you. That experience was still reminiscent of sucking back burnt campfire wood.  No. I missed the calm. I missed the warming sensation of sipping it late in the evening while chatting amiably with the Husband. I missed the stress release that it so obviously provided. I missed the routine. Should I be worried? Was this a cry out for an intervention? No, of course not. Rather this was an embracing of the thought that maybe....just maybe....I actually liked it? Hey! I'm a grown woman. Why shouldn't I enjoy the odd glass of something when the mood suits? Guilt and calories be damned. Welcome this moment of clarity and learn from it.

Clearly I needed to find a substitute for the swill of single malt that monopolizes our liquor cabinet. The Husband, always the willing guide on the subject, suggested brandy. BINGO! It was just what I was looking for. And so began a several week trial period of evenings curled up on the couch with my Courvoisier in a glass and endless reruns of Murdoch Mysteries on television. (I promise that sometime this month I will write an entire love letter to this show, but for now just know that it is a true passion for me. I can't wait for Season 6.)

Step one had been taken. I was actually enjoying my dalliance away from temperance. Oh the humanity! But true consumption can only be sincerely experienced in the company of friends. Sort of "if a tree falls in the woods" scenario. And so, last week I did something that I haven't done in years. I ordered a glass of wine while out for dinner. Twin Son and His Better Half looked a bit stunned, but they embraced my new-found liberty as readily as I knew they would. It was like they had won an epic battle and had brought me over to the dark side. Light sabres could finally be holstered. Years of cajoling had finally broken me, and here I was wandering in the abyss at last with all of the other mere mortals. Of course, after one glass of Shiraz I couldn't feel my feet, but we all understand that it is a process.

On election night, my evangelical moment reached its apex. I actually opened up a bottle of red and downed two glasses as I watched the returns come in. I loved every swallow. Barack and me and Dionysus makes three. Not a bad trifecta, if you ask me.