Yukon Chatter Bug

What started as the tearing off of wallpaper, ended up with tearing down a whole wall and stripping the bathroom from everything but the tub. I should’ve known; there’s no such thing as small jobs in the bathroom. Here are some pics for the folks back home and anyone else who’s interested:

	This is our lovely wallpapered bathroom before starting our renovations. Notice the linen closet next to the miniature vanity.
	It all started when I was tired of staring at the peeling flowered wallpaper when nature called (see above for said wallpaper). I was horrified to discover an even more disgusting wallpaper underneath. And worse, this wallpaper was the equivalent of MACtac on panelling. It was not possible to remove it. Plus, we decided to get rid of the horrid linoleum. Again, removing it revealed another layer of even more crazy 70′s linoleum; and finally, rotting wood underneath near the toilet and tub.
	Here’s another glimpse of the wonderful design under the flowered wallpaper. As you can see, we decided to get rid of the old vanity along with the linen closet that was next to it. This will make room for a vanity with some countertop space.
	We replaced the rotten particle board with plywood at the head of the tub. Also notice the absence of the wall that separated our bathroom from the office, as well as the faucets and shower head.I have to say Dave isn’t someone who ordinarily curses. Having to re-do the plumbing for the tub about three times, however, generated curse words I didn’t know existed. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating, but it really was a frustrating endeavour.
	Here’s the new plywood to replace rotting floor under the toilet and near the vanity’s plumbing.
	During this project, we learned everything there is to know about toilet flanges. Dave crawled under the trailer to cut the old pipe and fit in a new piece and flange. It’s elevated to match the height of the ceramic tile that will be going in.
	After replacing the old green-stripped panelling with paintable hardboard, a new tub surround was installed. Hardboard wouldn’t have been our first choice, except that anything else would have been too thick for the toilet tank to fit back there. As it was, it sat against the old panelling. Actually moving the toilet was out of the question. Here’s a picture of the wallboard, after we painted it. The colour doesn’t really come out on this photo, but it’s a very light buttery yellow, almost white. Also notice our new lighting fixture (brushed nickel). I love it!
	Here you can see our beautiful cedar on the opposite wall, along with the brushed nickel tub faucets. You can also see where our new linen closet will be. We also used hardboard above the tub surround and that ceiling area. Now we have to install our new maple vanity with undermount sink. Oh, and did I mention it is maple. After that, we install the tile to highlight our new maple vanity, and voilà! I’ll have to post a picture of the finished bathroom once it’s done.

Does frugality come with age? I don’t know, but I’m happy to announce that I now make my own laundry soap. There are tons of recipes on the Internet, but they’re all basically the same. The big question is whether you prefer powder or liquid.

When buying laundry soap, I always went for the liquid because the powder always left a bit of residue on my clothes, especially when using cold water. However, when making your own, the liquid soap takes a little longer to make, so I decided to test the powdered version, and if it didn’t work, I could always switch. I’m all into saving time making the stuff.

So, it took me about 10 – 15 minutes, and it works like a charm. No residue on my clothes, and the dirt is gone, gone, gone. Also, this method is cheaper, safer for the environment, and takes up less space on the shelf.

So here’s what you need:

1 cup Borax
1 cup Washing Soda
1 bar of soap, grated - (Sunlight, Fels Naptha, or Zota – NOT body soap)
1/4 cup Oxyclean (optional)

Mix it all up. Use 1 Tbsp for small loads, 2 Tbsp for large loads.

One word of caution, I read that you should use gloves when handling the washing soda because it is caustic. I also rinse my hands after each use of the laundry soap.

All of the ingredients are near the laundry detergents at the store. For the bar of soap, most Whitehorse stores carry Sunlight. It’s sold in a package of two bars, and is usually found near the laundry soap.

Some people prefer to use baking soda instead of washing soda. They are interchangeable in your laundry, but not in your baking! Washing soda is more alkaline and is more effective than baking soda.

For your first loads after switching, the Greenpeace website recommends washing your clothes with washing soda only; this is to prevent yellowing. I didn’t do this, and I didn’t experience any problems.

Thanks to the following sites:

The Frugal Shopper
Modern Cottage
Diaper Pin
Green Home Living – a great story!

Just the other day, Dave and I were talking about the differences in traditions in our respective families while growing up. I grew up in a French Canadian family in Northern Ontario, while he’s an Ottawa boy, whose parents originate from the U.S. Last year, we spent the Christmas holidays with family and couldn’t help but to notice the differences in tradition.

In my French Canadian household, the place becomes Union Station on Christmas Eve. No one’s invited and everyone is welcome, and as a result, the house bursts at the seams. When I was a kid, we were put to bed, then awoken just after 11pm to get ready for Midnight Mass. Santa always managed to come just before we got home, so we always missed him. He left gifts under the tree, but we never had stockings to fill; it just wasn’t part of our family’s tradition. After gift opening, we played for as long as we could stay awake, while my mother served a feast and my dad played music. The songs were what French Canadians call chansons à répondre; one person sings the song, and many verses are meant to be repeated by the rest of the crowd. Because of this, I always tell people that I learned how to play the spoons before I learned to eat with one. This was the “Réveillon” with gifts, food, and music.

Christmas Day, we played with our new toys for a while, then got dressed and did the rounds, visiting friends and family; we almost always ended up at my aunt’s house (who had half a dozen kids of her own) where it started all over again… at least the feast and music part.

Dave tells me that growing up, Christmas Eve was quiet. Around 11pm the family gathered to watch the Alistair Sim version of A Christmas Carol, a movie I had never watched until spending Christmas Eve with his mom last year. Christmas morn kids could open the gifts in their stockings, but had to wait until after a big family breakfast before opening other gifts. I’ll bet the kids gobbled up their breakfast in record time. Dinner was served for the family, and the day was fairly quiet. It was time dedicated to family. Dave’s relatives lived thousands of miles away.

In addition to never having seen A Christmas Carol, I also had never heard of Christmas Crackers. I was introduced to them by Dave’s mom last year, and had to buy some again this year. A couple of nights ago, we hosted a dessert and wine for friends. Their kids taught me how the crackers are to be opened, with everyone in a circle, arms crossed over, each hand holding one end of the cracker. It was fun! As for Christmas stockings, Dave saved my butt the first year together by not only buying stocking stuffers for me, but for himself too (and his mom who was visiting). Last year, it was pretty much half and half, and this year, I finally went out and got a bunch of little things that could fit in his stocking.

So, Dave introduced me to A Christmas Carol, Christmas crackers, and stocking stuffers, while I introduced him to my family, and, of course, his very own “Christmas Carole.”

Trying to be romantic last night, I decided to light candles. My hunny and I were just getting snuggled up, listening to great music on CBC Radio. We’d even had a dance or two. So far so good. The lighting was too bright, so I decided to pull out the candles. Using a small lighter I found in the house (we’re house-sitting), I tipped one of the tiny jars to get to the wick. I could barely get two fingers in there to light it.

First try: no go.

Second try: no go.

But wait, something feels oddly warm and getting hotter. Yikes, my nail was on fire. Yes, you read it right, the tip of my nail had a bright flame glowing (and burning). I ran to the kitchen sink to cool it down and ended up having my very own Gothic French manicure. Black tips on blood-red nail polish.

On another note, I’m listening to the Vinyl Cafe hosted by Stuart McLean on CBC Radio, and they’re giving out awards to people who have gone beyond the call of duty to help/do something nice. In the first call, the woman had no clue who he was, which was okay. Not everybody listens to CBC. On the second call, however, the woman actually hung up on him, even though he said who was calling and from where. So, he calls again, only to have her hang up on him again. Sure keeps a person humble!

My brother & his bride

Remember when I talked about how stress-free my wedding was? This doesn’t mean that I don’t think big weddings are beautiful. My brother got married this summer (in Timmins, ON), frills and all, and it was lovely. The part I like best about big weddings is that you get to see family you haven’t seen in eons. This is especially exhilarating for someone like me who lives over 4800 km from home.

One of my uncles, whom I hadn’t seen in years, decided to come to the wedding with his four daughters. He’s close to my age, so we were very close growing up. Tears of joy streamed my face when I spotted him at the rehearsal. He’s often remembered for the pranks he liked to play on people as a kid, and I was often his target.

One spring while visiting my grandma’s farm, we were walking along a trail when he suddenly stopped and pointed to a plant.

“This,” he said, “is poison ivy…you better not touch it or you’ll end up with an itchy rash all over your arm.”

“Really? Okay…” I backed away from it and kept walking, being extra careful not to come near it.

A few feet further he points to another plant and reassures me: “This one’s okay, you can touch this one.”

Stupid me, what do I do? Reach out and touch it. It didn’t take long for the plant to work its magic and I ended up running back to the farm crying. My grandmother’s high-pitched yell still resonnates in my ears: “Phi-li-pe!!!!”

Yup, he was in trouble again, but all that is forgiven now.

Have you ever done some research on your genealogy? Lately, I’ve been working on such a project for one of my school assignments. It took a while before the fire started burning, but now I can’t seem to let it go. My father had done some work several years ago and managed to go back to the 1600s in the Gauthier (Gonthier ?) lineage in France (Poitou). So, with all that work done, I wondered how else I could add to this work in progress.

Little did I know that you can access census records and many church registries online. Thanks to an amazing project by the Institut Généalogique Drouin in Québec, many of these have been scanned and are available for viewing. Although it’s time consuming to pore over these records, I find it fascinating when I come up with a “find” and see information about who lived where, when, and with whom. Having purchased a year’s membership with www.ancestry.ca has made the work easier. As I enter information about a person, their service automatically provides links to documents or other people’s tree that may link to the person in question.

Now that my family back home is aware of this little project, they are scanning old photos that I didn’t know existed and send them to me. The stories I am told that go along with these photographs are also interesting. I learned many little details that either were never told to me before, or I just never payed enough attention to retain the information.

When reading these registries and thinking about these people who are my ancestors , all of whom have now passed, it makes me think about the ephemeral quality of life. Looking at the year 1906 written in my great-grandfather’s marriage record (on my mother’s side) reminds me of how, throughout all of 2006, the year was written on documents everywhere, and in a hundred years from now, someone somewhere will be poring over those records perhaps thinking the same thing.

Here are a couple of old photographs that were sent to me (I have yet to touch them up):

Aldéric Vendette et Yvonne (Lahaie) Vendette, maternal great-grandparents

Albert Gauthier and Yvonne Audet, paternal great-grandparents, wedding Aug 18, 1915

Théophile & Marie (Tremblay) Gauthier, parents of Albert Gauthier

Damas Rancourt & Eleonore Sylvain, parents of Desneiges (Rancourt) Guillemette, my great-great grandparents

With love comes compromises. So, when I met my beau two years ago, I also inherited an 80-pound dog, Smidgen. People who have known me for years would never describe me as a dog lover, but after two years, this mutt has definitely grown on me.

The very first time I found myself alone in my boyfriend’s house a short while after we met, Smidgen tried to get up onto the couch. With a stern “off” command, she immediately got down. She had never done this before, so I figured she was simply testing me, thinking she was my “leader” in her pack. She never did try it again, so I figured that was that – or so I thought.

When getting home from work a little while ago, my fiancé decided to peek in the window before coming in, and – surprise! – Smidgen was sprawled out on the sofa like a Super Bowl fan. Of course as soon as she saw him she ran to the back door for her daily greeting.

We caught her doing it again, so now we put a little foot stool on the sofa when we leave the house to prevent her from climbing onto it. Something tells me that she still manages to find a way to squeeze in and curl up between the footstool and the arm rest. I’m tempted to set up a video camera to see what else she’s up to when we’re out.