last night i was up really late, so ironically today's entry is falling under the same date as yesterdays. well, what can you do?
tomorrow i'm going to a spice party at joanna's house. i'm excited about this. i'm hoping it will help me with my problem. my problem being that i don't know how to cook with spices. i'm sorry if you're appalled at that, but its not my fault. really. there's a few explanations for this:
1. my mom is british. i agree, it seems like a weak argument. but the thing is, my mom came here in 1967, and britian was a very different place back then. the food was more bland, and they didn't have supermarkets - apparently.
2. my grandma and grandpa owned a hotel on the irish sea. my mom and auntie eileen were made to work there doing housekeeping (since my mom was 7). she knows how to keep house, that's for darn sure. but my grandma did all the cooking for their guests and didn't teach my mom anything about the culinary arts. so my mom arrived in toronto with a trunk but with no clue. not even knowing how to grocery shop. awww, isn't that a sad tale?
3. my mom hates cooking and passed on very negative feelings towards it. although, she can cook a mean roast. for the most part she just cooked so we could eat and didn't put any effort into it.
i've only really learned to cook since living with melinda. but even so, sometimes she just adds the spices for me instead of showing me what to do or without explaining why i should use certain spices for certain dishes.
but i'm getting better. i'm branching out! i made a casserole for joy to have when caleb was born. at the time they were puzzled why i gave it to them so far in advance, but since cabe came 3.5 weeks early i was the only person prepared. i also learned to make salsa this summer. yay for les!!

well since i've been talking about my ma & pa i feel a need to show you a picture of them from their younger days.
i'd guess my dad is about 25 in this pic since my mom said once this is what he looked like when they first met and she convinced him he needed to grow a mustache. she said he looked like he should have one but just didn't.
this is a pic of my mom when she was still living in england. its funny to think she would have had a strong accent then. i try sometimes to imagine this picture talking and what she would have sounded like. she dropped her accent as soon as she could when she arrived here. i can understand that. when i'm in england i'm very self-conscience of my accent. its just it attracts so much attention... its embarrassing.
i'd say i resemble both my parents in these photos. i can really see myself in my dad, its almost scary. but i can see myself in my mom's pic too because my glasses are very similar to hers. i'd have to say my mom was way cool when she was my age. she had dyed fiery red hair when my parents met and my dad is resentful to this day because he thought he'd snagged himself a red head. he tells us that all the time. its funny talking to my dad because he had a good memory. he tells us how wild my mom was, meanwhile she apparently has alzheimer's because she doesn't remember that at all. but seriously, coming to canada for a one year trip when your 21 and then never going home is a pretty outragous thing to do...