First things first – here is a garden update.  So many little things just casually busting out everyday being all like “Yo.  It’s me.  Blue flower.”.  I think that first one might be bluebells?  Meh?  Do you know?  I certainly don’t.

Apparently this is Columbine.  I know because my neighbour told me.  She was all like “Oh!  Look at the Columbine!” and I was all like “Meh?”

Here is a yellow poofer flower.  Sorry it’s not entirely in focus.  I assure you it is even more impressive when it is fully in focus.  I don’t know what that one is either.  It’s not a peony, because now I know what the peonies look like (those bad boys are budding up sumfin fierce, BTW).  Do you know?  Meh?

Here is a flower I like to call “purple explosion flower”, due to it’s explosion of mini flowers that form one larger explosion flower. 

Every day there is something new popping out of that garden.  I left it for like, 3 days when it rained and it’s already virtually overgrown with weeds.  Like seriously – maintaining that shizz is a full-time job.  I think this weekend I’m going to plant some annuals to make it look a little more “planned” and less “crazy flower explosion mess”.

After feeling satisfied with my gardening ability (slash standing around taking pictures of other peoples’ gardening ability), I decided to head to The Rhino for some drinks and food.  It is quickly becoming my favourite patio in the new hood.  Mostly because it is a big patio with direct view of the street so I can spy on people while drinking, which is pretty much what I want to do all hours of the day.

I am drinking a blueberry wheat beer.  I know.  So girly.  Get off my back, ok?  JUDGE-Y.  It was delicious. 

Here is a sparrow or finch or something who clearly derives 100% of his sustenance by picking food off of peoples’ plates on the Rhino patio.  This fucker was brave.   He would like jiggle-walk right up to your plate and look at you, cock his head with his intense “looking-into-your-soul” bird eyeballs, then bristle out his feather Mohawk as if to be like “YEAH?  What the fuck are you looking at?  I’m going to eat your shit and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

This is what I’m calling “Brunch #1″.  It is called “lava eggs” and it was delicious.  But since I am basically a hippopatamus-woman who can eat more than Andre the Giant, I decided that this was not enough, and after two more beers, I ordered “Brunch #2″.

While waiting for Brunch #2, this fucker started walking right up to my hand and just stealing shit out of it.  I was pretty impressed.  Just saying.

After about another 30 minutes, Brunch #2 still hadn’t arrived.  I was pretty drunk and I started chanting in my head “BRUNCH NUMBER TWO!  BRUNCH NUMBER TWO!” 

Then it came.

Awwwwww yeah brunch #2.

Speaking of food, I went back to the old hood in Trinity this weekend to take the dogs to the park and stopped by Clafouti to get something buttery and delicious.  Look how awesome this looks.  I assure you, it tasted even better.

Molly and Olive came on a merry jaunt to the dog bowl and went mental chasing sticks and eating poos and rolling around in pees.  Olive was a big suck and didn’t want to walk home.

Before you chastise me for torturing Pam’s dog – I assure you she is fine… we were in the park for about 15 minutes tops, I gave her a bunch of water, a big rest, and we paused frequently on the walk home.  She clearly just wanted me to pick her up and kept flopping down and looking up at me with her wrinkle-face.

In other news I am SO EXCITED because St. Germain is back in stock at the LCBO.  If you haven’t had it before, go get that shit right now.  It’s this elderflower liquor that is basically a cross between true love and unicorn sweat.  They only get two shipments a year, and seriously… this stuff is the best.

Here is a recipe that I made up due to my large brain.  I call it “Natalie’s Sweet and Sour Love Nectar”

1 part Jack Daniels
2 parts St. Germain
Splash of Lime Juice
Drop of Agave Nectar

YOU’RE WELCOME.

Here is my dog being perfect:

Here I am waiting to get a soft-serve cone.  You know… basically, eating.  Again.

I love the pictures below.  The one on the left is amazing because it has so many things I love in it.  The one on the right is amazing because Molly is being a perfect lady.  This only happens when she smells cheese in the vicinity.  Just like me, she is powered by cheese.

Here is an example of a perfect banana:

I miss you. 

A bit better today, mostly due to my wonderful linen scarf from Argentina… in the most wonderful palette of poo-ish colours imaginable.  Additional good news about this outfit is that these pants didn’t fit two weeks ago.  HURRAH!  Two weeks of eating nothing but chickpea salad and late-night chicken wings has unexpectedly resulted in smaller pant-wearing ability.

Take that, science.

Currently planning a trip to Europe in the fall.  Munich, Berlin… and deciding between Prague and Paris.  Peut-être Paris, non?

I actually seriously no joke feel like a gross potato-knot on a decaying tree branch today.  Grotesque.  Washed-out colours.  Clumpy hair.

This is spiraling out of control.  Tomorrow I promise you something that actually has pith and whimsy.  By the power of greyskull, I promise you.

Lazy.  Lazy.  Lazy.

OH - MATCHING YOUR SHOES WITH YOUR SWEATER??? You are SO fashion-forward.  blurg.

Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who made it out on Saturday to our first sale of the season.  It was MAD BUMPIN’ all day long.  Like seriously, it didn’t slow down all day.  I ran in and out of the house all day long like a crazy person.  My thigh muscles got so overworked that they felt like sloppy linguinis the next morning.

THANK GOODNESS for Franc, who was our new vintage sale helper this time.  I mean, while we were running around helping peeps and making mad roll, he made us this lunch from SCRATCH:

He breaded and fried the fish and made that amazing potato salad with herbs and chopped spicy meats.  JESUS CRACK-BALLS CHRIST.

Incidentally, while we were prepping the night before, he also made us seared tuna with sesame and cilantro and a chop salad.  DOUBLE JESUS CRACK-BALLS.

Also, here is a picture of my cute dog sitting in the bargain bin while we set up that night.  Just saying.

Adorable.

Even more adorable.

Anyhoo, like I said, it was pandemonium.  People bought tons of stuff – and at least 3 people actually walked out of the sale WEARING their new purchases.  Like this girl, who managed to put together a snappy outfit from 100% Shoebox Vintage (including the belt and shoes):

And THEN Amanda brought over her 9-week-old fuzzy puppy.  Brain aneurysms were consequently experienced.

Stay tuned for more sales throughout the summer!

Here are some pointless and inconsequential things about my life that I assume you are interested in. 

The weather is finally starting to get its shit together and stay warm, as denoted by Molly’s hang-y tongue.  She is a huge wiener in the cold weather, so it’s nice to bring her out to sniff the multitude of pee marks and un-scooped dog poos throughout parkdale.

Speaking of that… I know I bad-mouth Parkdale a lot, but the truth is there is just as many ‘super-beautiful and amazing things’ as there are ‘hobos taking pisses in bus shelters’.  The houses are old and gorgeous, and those people who put effort into maintaining them do a really, really good job.

Some of the gardens are amazing. 

To celebrate the sun, I headed to the Rhino patio for the first of what I can only assume will be hundreds of summer beers/glasses of wine out there.  DID YOU KNOW THEY LET DOGS ON THEIR PATIO???  I know.  My brain exploded with happiness.

Sarah ordered a Cesar salad and I was so jealous.  It smelled like garlicky heaven.

Then I went home and Molly pinned me down with cuteness… and slooooowly started falling asleep.

A quick point that I am a genius and have managed to convince my potted cacti to spontaneously reproduce.

CHECK THOSE BABIES OUT:

In other news, I have been eating that Moroccan chickpea salad like, non-stop for about 2 weeks. 

I serious – I’m eating it by the cauldron-full.

I’m seriously not kidding – I could probably consume my own weight of this stuff RIGHT NOW.  RIGHT THIS SECOND.  It might be the perfect food.  Fresh but comfy and earthy.  Vegan, healthy… JESUS I WANT SOME RIGHT NOW.

This is probably not a good long-term plan, because I’m seriously considering buying this bikini from Robber and it’s pretty much a couple of napkins tied together with dental floss.  I don’t think it will camouflage the blubbery consequences my chickpea salad obsession.

Speaking of food and other segues, I spoke at a conference recently because of my large, professional balls, and as a gift they gave me a $250 gift certificate to Oliver and Bonacini.  What????  WHAT??   $250?  I know.  That’s enough money to order the sport-killing of an endangered snow leopard for dinner.

I instead chose champagne and oysters.  LARGEST BALLS ON EARTH.

Finally – the last thing that I assume you want to know about my life - I waited until 11:00 pm on the final day to submit my taxes.  I felt like SUCH a horrible, irresponsible person.  But then I saw this:

Jeez Louise, I’ve had this scarf for about 2 years and haven’t worn it yet.  It is this wispy creme sheer silk with roses embroidered on it and glass beads and fringe on the ends. 

I feel a little bit like a hobo with a nice scarf on because my shirt’s untucked… but I don’t waaaaaant to tuck my shirt in because the loose ends of my shirt provide wonderful fat-bum coverage.  No one has openly chastised me at work yet for looking like a homeless person, so I guess I’m good.