This Is Not A Food Blog

I fried tofu last weekend for a potluck at work on Tuesday. 

We took ownership of our current address in September 2008, a bit more than ten years ago. When we first looked at the property, we were charmed by the recent renovations, especially in the kitchen and the third floor bathroom.

Not long after we moved in, though, we started cursing the name of the previous owner, the guy who had DIY'ed all the renovations. Glen Owen had a penchant for impracticality and poor workmanship. He favoured expensive materials and fixtures but installed them like an amateur. Particularly annoying was his taste for lights with hard-to-find replacement bulbs. This past week, for example, we paid more than $50 to replace a 16" circular fluorescent in the kitchen. The bulb was cheap, but, because no one keeps that item in stock, we had to order on-line from a bulb clearing house and paid $35 for shipping.

After ten years, we thought we'd seen and managed the worst of Glen's expensive taste and low rent skills. And it's not all bad. I like the granite in the kitchen. Our third floor bathroom looks nice, though mildew in the shower has always been a problem.

And then, of course, since just after the New Year, there's been that ominous stain on the ceiling showing the outline of an access panel - an access panel, it turns out, that no other unit has.

The engineers came this past week to poke their head in the hole and opine on what the problem might be. Their best guess is that Mr. Owen, hoping to improve heat retention in the room farthest from the furnace, cut a hole in the ceiling and blew in insulation. The insulation blocked the vents. For ten years moisture has been gathering under the roof, providing a welcoming environment for mould. Something - we may never know what - triggered the stain-generating accumulation this year.

Long story short, the peak roof above our third floor bathroom needs to be rebuilt. That will happen in the spring. Which means that distracting hole in the ceiling will be around for a while longer.

Dog-sitting Sundae

Sundae supervised the making of mac 'n' cheese. 

From Friday around noon to Monday around 2:30 in the afternoon, we had a dog in our home again. Sundae belongs to Bruce's cousin's daughter and her husband, the couple who were married a few months after I had my hip replaced and a few weeks before Bruce's mother died. 

Sundae's part Jack Russel and part some other kind of terrier. If I had to guess, I'd say Staffordshire. She's energetic and clever. 

Sundae had a lot to get used to in our home. Her usual digs are in Aurora. She found the noises of the inner city cause for alarm, as in she sounded the alarm with vigorous barking whenever she heard something unfamiliar. That got tired fast.

She's not well socialized with other dogs, nor especially well leash trained, so walking her in the canine-congested 'hood was not relaxing.

In every other respect, Sundae was a playful, sweet, hair-shedding companion. Bruce and I lapsed immediately into talking to her like we used to talk to Molly. It was impossible not to.

The question that of course arises is, now that we've had a dog in our home again, does it make us want to get one of our own?

Nope. 

Thanks for reading!

Have a great week!

Karen