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What world is this, the place I had come to? There it was before me. Buenos Aries, an eclectic cocktail of fast-moving, seductive, chaotic, exuberant; a clamourous nexus of place unrestricted by considerations of time and place. Adorable and maddening, sensuous and scatty, surprising and subtle, difficult and endlessly charming. New versus old, speed versus slow, familiarity versus discovery; all laying rise to be termed the “Paris of South America”: a fitting sobriquet. Everything was pitched in a higher key. Buenos Aries is a city of both disparate tones and Epicurean textures, gratifying my sense of beauty and craving for the external finish of life, yet and at the same time, presenting a sharp meagerness of destitution. |
“Ah, the multiplicity of its appeals – the perpetual surprise of its contrasts and resemblances.” – Edith Wharton, The House of Mirth |
It’s quite a mess. I mean, for one thing, the city thinks it’s European: Neapolitan balconies, Moorish courtyards, English mansions, Gaudi-inspired domes, New York skyscrapers, French parks and cobble stone streets that hobble the best of us. But who cares? Give me chaotic anytime. I prefer my cities a little on the crazy side. After all, the city has the highest proportion of psychoanalysts per head of population on the planet — three times the rate of New York. It’s said that Argentinians could commit suicide by jumping off their own egos. A century ago, it was the capital of the sixth richest country in the world, but middle age brought one crisis after another — until eventually the whole place is pretty well reduced to a sad Andrew Lloyd Webber musical. But Buenos Aires has the humanity to plant trees. Lots of them. And cafes. |
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Buenos Aries has cafes the way Rome has churches. Here cafes are sanctuaries and they are on most every street, with battered espresso machines that look as if they were imported from Italy in 1932. Buenos Aires takes its time waking up. We are often the first to breakfast – 11 a.m. An hour regarded synchronous with sunrise. Sitting in my pew nursing a café cortado and a medialuna de jamon y queso is about as close to heaven as I was ever going to get. |
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Walking my trillion steps a day, I happily endure cars honking, people shouting, music blaring. The streets are filled with kamikaze drivers hurling their vehicles through intersections, jammed with zooming taxis and groaning buses. Sidewalks are a contact sport. As well as hopping over dog poop. There are couples making out in parks, in front of statues, on sidewalks and on street corners, more than any other city I have ever been in. PDA is at an all time high here: it’s a town for extroverts. Buenos Aires is a city that rarely sleeps. I was never sure when porteños slept, because they seemed to be awake at almost any hour of the night. You can get a great meal at one in the morning and not have waiters stand over you urging you to leave. And in Buenos Aries, you must never be in a hurry. You can’t start the evenings festivities until late…like really late. We’re talking 2 AM. with some places staying open until 7 AM. You will see 3 year olds with their families exiting a restaurant at 1:30 in the morning and 80 year old couples strolling casually down Corrientes Avenue with ice cream at midnight. There will be people singing and laughing in the streets, trying to make their way back home after a night on the town. Most of them passing under my bedroom window. |
“Bad wine” and “Argentina” don’t belong in the same sentence. It’s a town where I can forget my sorry self and enjoy that trifecta of local passions: the whip-quick moves of sultry tango, robust wine, and succulent grass-fed pampas steaks the size of a hat you can cut with a spoon. All I know is that an Argentinian Malbec is never a mistake and often cheaper than water in restaurants. |
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In Buenos Aires, there is no food without meat. Argentina is one of five countries in the world that has more cows than people. Meat-coma inducing carnivores will be in their element. Vegans and vegetarians, turn away now. Argentina is unapologetically carnivorous, and tucking into an oversized steak is a point of national pride. I’m convinced that Argentinians subsist exclusively off of a diet of beef and carbs. |
It Takes Two to Tango Dark, troubled, elegant, sexy, and fiendishly difficult to learn, it is one of the only dances in the world not meant to express joy. It originally dramatized the seductive moves thought to have been between a prostitute and her pimp. The lyrics are all about love, misery and death, deploying faces of melodramatic suffering. The pleasure of tango is its licence to be miserable; operating perfectly with my temperament. Nod thoughtfully. |
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I’m staying in trending Palermo Soho, mimicking New York’s Soho district. It’s a nightlife epicenter, as well as its buzz-worthy cocktail bars, apartment buildings, shops, tree-lined boulevards, cobbled streets, grandiose neocolonial houses, and lively cafés-cum-art galleries. It’s indisputably the city’s busiest, most desirable neighborhood. And the murals…. |
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Buenos Aires stakes claim to many of “the biggest”, “the first”, “the highest”, “the longest”, “the most beautiful”… |
Like the famous Avenida 9 de Julio, the worlds widest avenue. It has an astonishing 16 lanes; a boulevard that makes the Champs-Elysées look like a country lane. The entire avenue is bumper to bumper with snarling traffic during rush hour. I barely managed to cross it in one go. |
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Known as the bookstore capital of the world, Buenos Aires has an unbelievable 734 shops across the city – that’s 25 bookstores for every 100,000 residents. As a passionate bibliophile, I had to visit and was transfixed by the majestic El Ateneo, often referred to as the world’s most beautiful bookshop. As the famed Argentinean writer, Jorge Borges once said, ‘I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library’ andthe El Ateneo Grand Splendid bookshop, housing over 120,000 books, is certainly that kind of paradise. This theater-turned-cinema was converted into a bookstore in the early 2000s. Much of the interior, including the ornate carvings and frescoed ceiling, remain intact. Bookshelves replaced the rows of seats and the theater boxes were left for customers to curl up with a book. Dark red curtains frame the stage, home to a quaint café to work on your caffeine level. |
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Then there is the Feria de San Telmo – the largest street market in South America. |
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They also have the highest percentage of pets per capita in the world. Dogs are particularly popular, with 60% of households owning at least one. Buenos Aries has the largest Japanese garden outside of Japan. Then we have Argentinian Jorge Bergoglio, a.k.a. Pope Francis, the first pontiff from the Americas. Fun fact. Before he entered the seminary, Jorge/Francis was a bouncer at a Buenos Aires nightclub. He is a man who knows how to dance the tango and its equally sensuous cousin, the milonga. He is a lifelong admirer of Jorge Luis Borges. And like virtually everyone in Argentina, he is a soccer fanatic. San Lorenzo, to be exact. |
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Buenos Aires has what is considered one of the world’s most beautiful cemeteries – El Cementerio de la Recoleta, second only to Pere Lechaise in Paris. It spans four city blocks, holds no less than 6400 graves, and has as its most famous tenant, First Lady Eva Duarte de Perón. (Evita) Eva Peron’s grave is an understated monument with a tumultuous backstory. When President Juan Peron was ousted in a military coup three years after Eva’s death, no one was sure what to do with Evita’s perfectly embalmed body. Unfortunately, it was entrusted to Colonel Moori Koenig. As she was shuttled between various hiding places in Buenos Aires, he became enamoured with the body. Eventually, he was accused of “un-Christian” acts, and the colonel and the corpse had to be separated. Perhaps his therapist was on holiday at the time. Evita’s body was then shipped to Milan and buried under a false name. Years later, when it was returned, it was interred in Recoleta beneath thick steel plates, possibly in case Koenig came looking. At least that’s one of the stories. |
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The labrynthine pathways of tombs and mausoleums of Le Recoleta contain many strange stories. Like that of Liliana Crociati, who died during her honeymoon (in an avalanche) and for whom her parents built a vault where they reproduced her bedroom and placed her sculpture at the entrance, wearing her wedding dress with which she was buried, accompanied by her inseparable dog. |
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Fútbol is a religion. Each team’s stadium is a temple. Games are wept over. Fought over. And spark serious family issues. Speaking of godlike figures, Maradona sits right up there next to the Virgin Mary and the Pope. He even has his own religion – Iglesia Araconiana, complete with its own set of Ten Commandments, including naming your first son Diego and considering the ball sacred. Watching a footy match in Argentina is an intense, life-affirming moment, treated with the sort of fervour that borders on the obsessional. This experience will not be a quiet hour and a half sitting in the stadium watching 22 people kick a ball around. |
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Think 7% inflation Is bad? Try 142%. To save up, Argentines stuff bundles of American bills into old clothes, beneath floor boards and in bombproof safe deposit boxes past nine locked gates and five stories beneath the ground. They spend their pesos as quickly as they get them, buying everything from TVs to potato peelers in instalments, betting the value of the peso will fall. In 2017, prices had risen so much that Argentina doubled the size of its largest bank note to 1,000 pesos, then worth about $58 on the black market. Today it is worth $1.52 Canadian. So my breakfasts are $3-$5 and a really great meal with a very good wine is $11-$25. “Cambio! Cambio!” I think there are more money changers than pigeons on Calle Florida. Which is where I went to exchange my pristine American dollar bills for Argentinian pesos. How it works is that men and women dubbed “arbolitos”, little trees, stand on the street yelling “Cambio! Cambio!” Once you accept a rate from one of the many sellers, they lead you to so-called caves to change the money in relative privacy. Then you put the piles of bills in a wheelbarrow or stuff them down your pants. It’s all illegal, but police standing nearby don’t seem to mind. |
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“You need to get out of the city once a week or you go crazy.” – Argentinian porteños So we went to the city of Tigre, 30km. from B.A., an hour’s train journey. The ride cost us 15 cents. Tigre is a tropical jungle where forested islands dot the murky river waters. It’s a riverside getaway with stilt houses, old mansions, aristocratic rowing clubs and craft shops. Life revolves around the river, with islands disconnected from the mainland. Islanders rely solely on boats, navigating the shallow rivers in small vessels. |
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But if you ever get the opportunity to come to Argentina (or Brazil), you must go to one of the most spectacular waterfalls in the world. An UNESCO World Heritage Site, Iguazu Falls is the largest broken waterfall in the world, stretching over three kilometres. Made up of 275 individual cascades, they reach heights of 200 feet to create a stunning natural barrier between Argentina and Brazil, both visually and acoustically. We went to both the Argentinian side and the Brazilian side, as they are uniquely different. Not even the best of writers could describe the incomparable immensity, grandeur, powerfulness, vastness, and magnificence of Iguazu Falls. It challenges the paltry wealth of my vocabulary to even think to describe the experience. One needs to experience it. The sheer power and beauty offers a great deal more than sentimental adventure. Eleanor Roosevelt famously pined, “My poor Niagara!”, when she first saw the Iguazu Falls. I left awestruck – and very, very wet. And very, very humbled. |
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Te Amo Argentina! |
Don’t Cry for Me Argentina – A Backward Glance
December 7, 2023 by
Recipe for Success: Secrets from the Staging World
December 7, 2023 by
| When Shakespeare wrote that all the world’s a stage, he probably never envisioned home stagers, those wizards of visual manipulation that magically transform interiors, imbuing purpose and functionality with the removal of a side chair or the placement of a throw pillow, similar to a beautifully directed play. There are many moving parts when it comes to staging a home for sale. But sometimes what is slightly off can be difficult to pinpoint. I see it virtually every day, and it is quite disheartening—especially when many situations can be easily rectified and quickly accomplished before you open the door to your first potential buyer. So today for your viewing pleasure, here are a few “Tricks of the Trade.” 1. Let There Be Light, But Make Sure It’s Good Light. Would you sell a car without taking it through the carwash and having it detailed? The same goes for the lighting in the home. The colour of light significantly impacts the look and feel, as well as the size and shape of a room. All overhead, floor and table lamps should have the same warm-white light bulbs (2700-3000 K) instead of “cool white,” “daylight,” or “blue” hue, which can make everything appear paler and washed out. Or in the case of mismatched bulbs – quite erratic.Update by removing tie-backs on curtains and drapes.Open curtains, checking that the side window casings are not exposed. Get 25% more light by removing window screens.Tuck lamp cords out of sight as much as possible.  2. Hide the Evidence I get it, sellers live in a house, not in a Crate & Barrel showroom. But before buyers ring the doorbell, all personal hygiene materials, cleaning supplies, and personal memorabilia needs to be stored away. You want your buyers to be fantasizing about the rooms and wooing them with the home decor, not the dirty laundry in the bedroom closet. And buyers don’t want to see all the trips the sellers have been on by viewing a multitude of fridge magnets—you want them to feel it could soon be their own home .   3. Use the Goldilocks Theory Just because it fits, doesn’t mean it fits. Check for furniture that’s ‘just right’, removing pieces that are either too small or too large for the space.Example: Remove or add a leaf to the kitchen and/or dining room table.  4. It Just Makes Cents Smell is shockingly important. Hands down the worst mistake is using plug-in air fresheners, as well as overpowering, chemically-scented home products that can either give buyers a headache or make them nauseous. Cigarette smoke, pet odours, and strong cooking smells may also trigger a negative reaction and/or create a suspicion that something is being covered up. Erase all signs of pets. Potential buyers may have allergies. 5. The Crazy Ice Trick Dents in the carpet from moving furniture? Place ice cubes on the dents. When the ice melts and mostly dries, use the edge of a spoon to push the carpet fibers back in an upright position. A coin will also work. Voila! No more dents. 6. Flower Flash Everyone deserves to be bowled over by nature’s rosy and unbridled beauty. Whether it’s a bouquet of simple tulips, a larger floral arrangement, or a potted plant, the sensory stimuli thay they provide perks up a bedroom, living room, dining room or a bathroom in no time. |
| First Course Hang towels in thirds with no raw edges showing. Paired With: Decorative soap dispensers. Second Course Bring books to the front of bookshelves. Paired With: Hardcover, if possible. Only display books with spines. Third Course Clear appliances off kitchen counters. You want to sell counter space, not clutter. Paired With: Except an espresso machine. Fourth Course Don’t set the table. It’s dated, distracting, looks gimmicky, screaming –“this home has been staged.” Paired With: A large platter or a bouquet proportional to the table. |
San Carlos de Barilouce: Living Inside a Refrigerator
December 7, 2023 by
| I’m not going outside until the temperature is above my age. |
| Spring in Argentina’s San Carlos de Barilouce, makes a fiction entrance some might better describe as blistering, wrathful, diabolical. At least in my eyes. And body. |
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What this picture doesn’t show you is that it was approximately the same temperature as it would be if I’d been sitting on a glacier. Except colder. I know you can’t feel anything from where you are. You just have to believe me. At least the risk for mosquito activity is low. For me, a holiday is best defined as “a woman lies down in the sun with a glass of wine and a book and gets up five to seven days later.” But enough of that. I take up the burden of my tale. I didn’t plan to come here after Buenos Aires. I was supposed to go home. But as good fortune would have it, I have the marvelous? opportunity to go trekking in Patagonia Chile. |
| So I’m spending a few days of intermediate time here. I’m hoping that when I’m on this infamous Patagonian trek, I’ll be able to tell whether I have sustained an injury or that’s just how I am now. Cause sometimes I get winded just working my way through a bag of Skittles. Because of my unexpected detour and inclement weather, I’m wrapping up in my (only) three pairs of pants and five top layers, including raincoat and alpaca wool poncho. My poncho, a very welcome and timely purchase in Buenos Aires. They say there’s no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing. Yes, well. I listen to the wind moan day and night, battle driving rain outside, I’m chilled to the bones. It’s a consummate shock from the comforting warmth of B.A. |
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A Slice of Switzerland With its snow-capped peaks and crisp air, this laid-back city in Patagonia makes you question whether you have landed in Switzerland instead of Argentina. Bariloche is a city surrounded by thousand-year-old forests, mountains covered in snow and crystal clear lakes. Seven to be exact. Each with a unique landscape. I have seen quite a few groups of teenagers prowling the streets and have learned it is quite common for high school students in Argentina to take a senior trip to Bariloche. |
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To hike or not to hike, that is not a real question. Those in the know will scoff and say, “What is wrong with you? Bariloche is world famous for its amazing hiking trails, mountain bike trails, zipline, rock climbing, chairlifts up to the top of the mountain…” You see where I’m going here. And it’s not up. I’m not really afraid of heights, just falling from them. I get nervous just standing on a chair. |
Eat your weight in chocolate. “What you see before you, my friend, is the result of a lifetime of chocolate.” – Katharine Hepburn Thankfully, Bariloche is known as the chocolate capital of Argentina. I’ve counted at least eighteen shops on Mitre Street alone. Any self-discipline I may have is tough, because I’m the boss of me and that guy runs a really loose ship. Besides chocolate never asks any stupid questions. |
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“To alcohol! The cause of, and solution to, all of life’s problems.” – Homer Simpson And alcohol. Malbec, Pineapple Cider, Fernet, Cerveza artesanal beer, and rum. You can even pose with a Saint Bernard dog with a small barrel of rum around the neck; his neck, not yours. |
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And lots and lots of travel agencies, since the main goal of Bariloche’s tourists is to leave the city. But there is a dark side to Bariloche. After WWII, some quite atrocious war criminals found refuge here. The most infamous one is Erich Priebke who lived here undisturbed until, in 1993, German investigators applied for extradition. Sadly, it was not unusual that Nazi war criminals found a safe house in Argentina. Mr. Perón was very cooperative in this field. |
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Lately I’ve been thinking about “life reviews.” I first heard the term in an interview Jane Fonda did with Julia Louis Dreyfus on her podcast. I found that sitting solo freezing in a dingy hotel room gazing at faded botanical prints gives you plenty of time to muse on the subject. As well as the importance of making yourself useful to the reader by solving their life problems, while dispensing with the fantasy that anyone actually cares about your experiences; in other words, generally getting over yourself. We of a certain age know what it means to lose things – your looks, your loves, your reading glasses…and to remember that it is simply courtesy to others to give yourself a once-over in the mirror. And that it’s probably too late to take up pole dancing. I mean, I really don’t look like the woman in the hotel’s magnified bathroom mirror I saw last night. I thought, that can’t be right. And I will never let that happen again. Of course it was scary. Not even God wants to see us that close up. Well, I’m just getting ready to not go out, but instead to a late supper of a considerable good Malbec – in my room. |
Supercharge Curb Appeal
October 11, 2023 by
| In the world of buying and selling homes, there are two words everyone knows: CURB APPEAL. Curb appeal on a house is a lot like going out on a first date. If you like what you see initially, you’re going to want to know more. Given the hailstorm of keystrokes I’ve burdened you with over the years, I can never emphasize enough the impact of inspired CURB APPEAL to create an intangible sense of delight and a quicker sale. Not again, you sigh, when all you really want to do is order in Uber Eats. Again.I don’t want to cause more tears and anguish than the ending of Charlotte’s Web, but truly, I have nothing but your best interests at heart, even though you may prefer to talk about the lengthening lines on my face. I assure you that you are capable of any sacrifice only if it doesn’t last too long. Pinky swear. Fall curb appeal is all about coziness and welcome, about adding warmth quintessential to the season without detracting from the existing elements. So what’s the absolute best Home Staging curb appeal secret? Adding plants and/or flowers. The beauty of nature trumps all. Planters. Fill with pumpkins, twigs, artificial leaves, marigolds or cut sunflowers for a cheery fall look. Potted mums are the iconic fall container plant. To save time and effort, head to the local garden store to purchase container plants that are already in or close to full bloom. Hang or arrange a number of them in the front garden, planters, window box or on the front steps. Hold on a sweater-loving second, what is fall without pumpkins! All I know is that pumpkins are never a mistake. Pumpkins are the iceberg lettuce of the autumn world. Like iceberg lettuce, they last a long time and are available everywhere. They are inexpensive, colourful, lively, and great for the whole of the harvest season. Note: Homes with high curb appeal tend to sell for an average of 7% more than similar homes with an uninviting exterior, according to a joint study by the University of Alabama and the University of Texas at Arlington. The study, published in the Journal of Real Estate Finance and Economics, continues to stress the importance of curb appeal, stating that the premium jumps to a 14% higher price tag in slower real estate markets. Sometimes all you need is a simple touch – like a pretty plaid blanket and a lone pumpkin on a front porch. No one in the history of ever has said, “What a beautiful old door mat!” A good impression should start from the first step. Keep it impersonal. Don’t advertise your favourite sports team. No joke mats like, “Hi, I’m Mat.” or “Not You Again!” or worst of all, “Nice Underwear.” Doors were made to be opened. Hang a seasonal wreath. The front door is that all-important first impression that moulds the opinion of every buyer –- and the end, as potential buyers take a last look back as they drive away. |
| It’s the recipe and not any one specific ingredient that makes for great curb appeal. This is the path to buyers’ hearts and an offer.Anyway, thanks for coming to my TED talk about curb appeal. |
50 Shades of Gray
September 26, 2023 by
| This love affair is coming to an end. |
| Is boring black and white, minimalist and personality-less, white-on-white-on white, gray-on-gray-on-gray, past the sell-by date? This love affair is coming to an end. Surely, we’re due for a change. |
| Yes gray, the ideal color for indifference, fence-sitting, keeping quiet, despair. Names like Cloud Cover, Morning Fog, Mouse’s Back, Squirrel Tail, Mole’s Breath…all particularly numbing, the charisma of soppy bread. |
| Walk into just about any home design store, and you’ll see swaths of gray upholstery, bedding and accessories. Rental properties and spec houses have room upon room of what my educated eye recognizes as Benjamin Moore’s Revere Pewter and Gray Owl on the walls of bedrooms, living rooms, halls and bathrooms.Several shades of why. |
| A natural correction is taking place. |
| How did we, known not too long ago for our penchant for pastels, let ourselves slip into a haze of gray? I know some of us may be clutching our pearls at the idea of gray going by the wayside, as gray and white – the two (seemingly timeless) tones have been at the forefront of our decorating agendas for decades. In the late ‘90s, when we were coming out of our peach-beige-mania, there was more of a high-end design movement about gray and dark woods. That trickled down into mass-market decor options. Now, as the design pendulum swings back around to beiges and now, we are realizing to our dismay that we have been living life in colorless spaces for the past several years. |
| What we’re experiencing now may be a ripple effect of the lockdown.Two years of being cooped up, bound in tormented seclusion staring at the same four walls, made us want to trade in our neutrals for explosions of colours reminiscent of adventure and excitement. Their re-emergence is a possible (colourful) light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. But don’t expect to wake up in a Smartie world of colour next week. It can take months or seasons to see these trends reflected in our interiors, since they often start in fashion—the most rapid of the trend cycles—and trickle outward from there. I’ve seen nothing less in Europe this month. And a resurgence of 60’s fashion on the streets. |
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People may be ready to accept more colour in their life, but it’s often a slow step-by-step process. |
| HOMEOWNER: “I’m one of those people who knows what I like once I see it but who has a hard time visualizing how things will look in a space or what colours will work well together,” |
Maybe it starts with a toss cushion, a throw, a peice of art, a vase. Then a side chair. And, eventually, they might find the courage to paint a cheeky mural or an entire wall. |
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| Perhaps the safest colour is no colour. |
| I think we all had intentions of adding pops of colour, but found we had commitment problems. |
| As one who has never embraced gray, although I know my way up and down the gray paint chips, I have always found gray soulless. It honestly drains you, especially when you have to wake up to dull, gray winter days when all you want to do is pull the duvet over your head and go back to sleep. |
| But grays and neutrals aren’t necessarily going away, but expanding. Colours like green, which convey a nature-infused, organic reference, and a clay-like pink, mustard yellow, ochre, mulberry are increasingly being treated as neutrals.With most trends that cycle back into popularity, each new iteration will be slightly reinvented. We saw this with brass plumbing fixtures, door knobs, and cabinet hardware. Brass is now “back”, but it’s not the glossy, yellowy brass of the 80’s, it’s a rosier, non-glossy brass, with straighter lines and simpler shapes. |
| So, what colour is your future? |
| By the way, if anyone is in the market for a Betamax… |
To Prague with Love
September 16, 2023 by
| “Prague never lets you go. That dear little mother has claws.” – Franz Kafka Travellers versus tourists. For years, I was the archetypal solo female traveller. You know the one: untethered by a relationship, small children, few responsibilities, flitting around the world, enjoying flings, living and collecting wild stories in a rigadoon of delight. So I’m in Prague, having a hard time pulling the camera out of my bag. Prague, the city of ‘One Hundred Spires’ – Europe magnified. I’ve sat through too many films, been so many places, seen a multitude of lovers holding hands on bridges, watched couples posing in front of beautiful buildings with open windows; scenes of lived experiences. But who can stand the weight of so many photographs, now so easily downloaded in multitudes, places and cities worn out from being seen too much. And really, who cares? Travel isn’t about pleasure as much as it is hard work. Travel is a choice. You go or you don’t. What am I doing here anyway? The prayerful plea of every traveler. Many hate flying and airports and taking off their shoes at security, but love and romanticize the getting there. Objects and events may bring things to mind, but in the end they remain no more than what they are in fact. They begin only when you experience them, and vanish when new ones follow. Maybe travelling, of forward motion, is a means of eavesdropping, driven by the hope that we might see or hear something we’ve never seen or heard before, of claiming a more you version of you. Maybe to be awakened from our slumber by the unexpected, to escape, if only for a short while, the deadening quality of routine. To unfurl a bit of rope. But there isn’t really much newness anywhere anymore, just other, worse and better, versions of every place where I’ve already been. But I have chosen this place and this time – and it simply enthrals me. It’s the kind of city you read about in fairy tales. Coffee to stay or Why can’t Canada get the sidewalk café right? Somehow Europeans were lucky enough to be born with some sort of café culture gene – a fluke of genetics, like Texans attracted like moths to high school football games on Friday nights. A sidewalk café does for a city what flowers do for a woman; they make her happy and attractive. It’s a state of mind, but the mood—the ambiance, is like a good French wine: it won’t travel. I have spent many an afternoon overstaying my welcome at beautiful European cafés. Sidewalk cafés, in my opinion, are the hallmark of civilized life – temples to caffeine, creativity and conversation. Housed under striped awnings, the air tinged a delicate shade of nicotine blue, sits small round tables with stained marble tops and worn wicker chairs. There is the distinctive clicking sound of waiters putting down saucers and glasses, a sound I would recognize anywhere. Instead of seats aligned in rows facing outward where sippers of coffee and aperitifs can watch the spectacle of the street, in North America, we install square steel tables under stout canvas roofs with drop down flaps, bulwarks of heaters looming over chilling patrons – a fate only the tortured writer himself could have imagined. For the flâneur, the poet or the metaphysician at his notebook, sidewalk cafés were created by men who thoroughly understood that sidewalks are not merely for walking. Promenaders take center stage, strolling and being seen, while onlookers perch on the periphery. They are perfect spots for observing human foibles. They were made for loneliness and curiosity, detachment and togetherness. And privacy. Sidewalk habitues are blessed with temporary deafness. One may not be able to avoid hearing what is said at the next table, but one is never consciously listening. On the terrace, each man is an island unto himself. It is an accepted rule that people may bump into you or stumble over your feet. No apologies are expected or given. And my favourite here? Café Louvre. Although not technically a sidewalk café as it’s on the first level, its design more typical of the Habsburg Empire at the turn of the 20th century, it was a favourite haunt of the upper echelons of Prague society where famous regulars included Franz Kafka and even Albert Einstein. So if Einstein was smart enough to go there… The speed of inspiration. Prague is walked. This is capital. It’s that vagabond state among walkers — we street haunters move aimlessly, and are hardly ever on a mission. We drift here and there, letting thoughts change with the passing view, with the travelers instinct of inhabiting the moment. To find something to admire, to ponder, to discover. To, as writer Robert Louis Stevenson put it, to “follow this way or that, as the freak takes you“. To look up to find the “Hanging woman and man with umbrella” sculptures. In fact, it is paramount in Prague – you will miss much of worth if you are not constantly looking up. |
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“The chief prevention against getting old is to remain astonished.” – Kevin Kelly I walk (everyday for tens of thousands of steps) with a touch of agreeable languor, a pleasure-seeking wastrel, even in this densely urban environment. I’m never wandering the streets alone. Not even at 6:00 in the morning do I have the streets to myself. And the only police presence I’ve seen was an officer sitting in her van thumbing her iPhone in the middle of a busy square in case a tourist wanted help finding a place that serves a good pork knuckle. You don’t need to saunter far to fall in earshot of a melody in Prague. Perambulating, I can hear strains of a Dvořák concerto coming from a high window, an opera singer practicing her scales, a child cellist struggling through a passage, street jazz buskers on one of the many bridges, then resting in the magnificent Baroque Klementinum Cathedral listening to Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons” performed by the Bohemian Symphony Orchestra…daily musical sounds of Prague. And I didn’t miss an opportunity to hang out at the famous Reduta, where Bill Clinton twice rocked out on the saxophone gifted to him by the then-president Václav Hável. I meander on cobbled streets, along winding rivers and across ornate bridges connecting fairytale-esque architecture, through idyllic green spots of paradise, home to strutting peacocks. I walk over old territory with ghosts, past the smell of church wood, past a world of corridors, marble steps, great buildings, and past quirky, unique entirely unexpected irreverent sinister disturbingly amusing pieces of public art. And graffiti: here, an art form. |
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So…a girl goes out into the world to find…only she finds she’s the same person in Newfoundland, in Slovenia, in Prague, as she is back home, with all the same flaws, the same obnoxious behaviors, the same judgmental rapture. Now she just happens to have two pictures of herself standing in front of the Mucha Museum. That’s not as good of a story. It probably won’t make it to a movie script, get more Instagram followers, or a free plane ticket. But it’s more honest. |
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Staying at home can offer as many opportunities for growth and transformation and brain rewiring or any terms you’d like to use. If you’re the type of person who is more scared of staying home than wandering out there, then perhaps that’s what you should do. As such, this concludes the audio portion of your walking tour. I hope you enjoyed your time with me. Thank you, and please watch your step upon exiting. |
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Bacon, Beans and Listings
June 30, 2023 by
| Sometimes y’all are completely flamboozzled on how to best sell a home given the mattresses on the floor, overstuffed furniture, clutter, heavy drapes, and overflowing bookshelves. In order to get the best possible price – and quickly, you know that you have to get the best posse in town, because there are a few out there that couldn’t drive a nail into a snow bank. |
| So if you want to lasso in buyers like a horse takes to oats and “have a little fun”, here are a few Staging Stampede Suggestions. |
Livery The old saying — you can judge a book by its cover – is seldom wrong. Say you’ve got a shirtless cowboy looking out into the field, leaning on his rusty truck, you pretty know what’s going to be in that book. So does this adage apply to a home on the range. Gussy up the curb appeal during Stamped Selling by setting some flowers in an old cowboy boot or on a bale of hay. |
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| Mercantile Ever since a man rode a horse, there has been cowboy wisdom. Corral those outriders in with a cowhide rug on the floor or toss cushions on a porch rocker, sofa or chair, making them want to sit a spell. Just a cushion or two adds a pop of colour, a bit of fun and some texture that makes for a breath of fresh air and a treat for the eyes. |
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Grub Coffee and donuts: the classic pair. Donuts really do make the world go round. Is there anything they can’t do? Set out some cowboy coffee and mini donuts on a tray in the kitchen. This is sure to rope in a few hombres. I mean, everyone should eat more hole foods. |
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High Noon Scents Nobody wants to walk into a home that smells like a cowboy’s tailgate, so put those boots way off in the horizon. |
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Final Words Differentiate your listing by playing honky-tonk twang, making buckaroos just want to look off into the sunset and linger. Or two-step in the living room. |
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| Make your listing the “Greatest Show on Earth.” It’s a one shot go for broke performance. |
| Head ’em up, and move ’em out. |
One Date Too Many?
May 22, 2023 by
| I’ve kept a journal for years. I call her Abby. She’s younger than me because everyone is. Solipsistic Abby reports things other people have said about me; my fashion choices which many might say bore an unfortunate resemblance to a mental patients uniform, my abilities that don’t count for much, and of course, my dates over the years. And there have been a lot. Of dates, I mean. Mostly blind and never twice. |
| Some have been known to take a nap. Once sitting together in a tropical garden, the guy told me he could hear the plants screaming. Often guys failed to ask me a single question while I kept the “conversation” aloft by asking them about themsleves. I even saw one guy I was with at a funeral, make substantial eye contact with potential mates. It was just a mess. Too much uncertainty in the system. It’s like they could tell from my skin tone that I ate a very anti-inflammatory diet. |
| You might say I had a very promising past. |
| Flipping through journal entries, there apparently was a time where I was lithe and slender, brimming with intelligence and verve, spewing witticisms like confetti. I have no idea when this decamped, obviously without my express permission. |
| Darling, it’s simply courtesy to others just to give yourself a once-over in the mirror. |
| Nope, I didn’t see it coming. |
| After a late supper of considerable good bourbon, it occured to me that this can t happen to the best of us: a Best Before Date. Like Betamax’s and corsets. Dated. Like some stuff in your home. You bought a coffee table online only to discover it is too small. Your aunt gave you a flowered sofa, promising yourself you will replace it once you found another one. Then you picked up a rug and some pillows to “go with” the flowers in that sofa – an online impulse buy late one night after a couple of glasses of wine while you were stressing over your closing date. Five years later? The sofa and the coffee table are still there. |
| Furniture salesperson: “This sofa will seat 5 people without any problems.” I said, “Where am I going to find 5 people without any problems?” |
| Say the words “faux finish” three times and you’ll be transported to the early ’90s in a room accented by experimental painting techniques that never quite pulled off the exotic vibe they were hoping for.The association can be harder to shake than having the theme song to “Friends” stuck in your head. |
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| If there’s one thing we learned from watching dandruff shampoo commercials, it’s that you never get a second chance to make a first impression. Or say “No” to that flowered sofa. |
So I was just wondering, what does “dated” mean to you? Picked up at 6:30. Dinner at 7. Movie at 9. Then back home for some…oops, wrong “dated”. |
| This furniture store keeps calling me…all I wanted was one night stand. |
| A Break up or Break Through Of course, “outdated” is subjective, but unlike dating, it really doesn’t have to be that complicated.After all, the purpose of a first date is a conscious effort to discover what you like, what you dislike, and the “non-negotiables”, in other words, the best hookup.Everyone has personal mate preferences – whether they leave used dental floss around the house, whether they hate dessert, like dessert, don’t like cats, really like cats, or are covered in Batman tattoos. |
| “In old age we should wish still to have passions strong enough to prevent us turning in on ourselves.” – Simone de Beauvoir |
| But it’s not always about the “dated” stuff; it’s really about how the stuff makes us feel. Being surrounded by shelves laden with collected objects and books, a vintage blanket thrown over the back of the sofa, a oil painting rescued at a garage sale, an old steamer trunk, or whimsical cat wallpaper, can be a powerful type of self-care, joy and healing. (Or just a massive amount of clutter). |
| To Date or Not to Date Everything doesn’t, and shouldn’t, have to be new. Thrift stores, vintage stores, and antique stores are great repositories for unique, inviting and satisfying pieces. Dents, nicks, and scratches add character to a piece, and old mixes beautifully with new. You will be also be doing your earth-part to repurpose/reuse instead of buying new. |
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| Find a New Date |
| My best advice is to incorporate things that you currently own and love into your space. This could be family heirlooms, accessories, art objects picked up in your travels, or any items that make you smile. |
| Scout your home for items you have forgotten about, or move around items that don’t work in the space. Sometimes, that lamp that doesn’t look quite right in the living room is perfect for the entry table. |
| Sometimes, your space doesn’t need a full-blown makeover —it just needs a quick refresh – or a styling expert! |
| That’s all have for today, unless to want to talk about the lines on my face. |
| By the way, when was your perfect date? Mine was May 5, because it wasn’t too hot and it wasn’t too cold. All I needed was a light jacket. |
Dating a Dressage
April 27, 2023 by
| You have a house for sale and there seems to be a recurring theme comment that the house is – “dated.” So I was just wondering, what does “dated” mean to you? Picked up at 6:00. Dinner at 7:00 Movie at 9:00. Then back home for some…….oops, wrong “dated”. Does it bring on these responses? “Oh, I remember that from my 4th-grade friend’s house!”“Haven’t seen that in years!”“That hardwood looks as worn as a saloon dance floor.” Does it mean that there hasn’t been any changes in 30 years? Where “recently renovated” means the house had gone from uninhabitable to unpleasant. Or owned by someone who didn’t know the difference between a table saw and a drill. Or remark without irony that the walls are painted the colour of mottled liver. Say the words “faux finish” three times and you’ll be transported to the early ’90s, in a room accented by experimental painting techniques that never quite pulled off the exotic vibe they were hoping for.The association can be harder to shake than having the theme song to “Mad About You” or “Friends” stuck in your head. |
| Is it the painted fruit tiles that someone in a galaxy far, far away, picked for the kitchen backsplash? The kitchen light fixture that looks like it belongs in an operating room. The garden trend of the ’80s where the more floral patterns, the better. The perky pink tile countertops, metallic hallway wallpaper, shag carpeting in the ensuite bathroom, lacey drapes, burgundy bedroom walls, narrow wood-stained baseboards, “brick” vinyl on the kitchen floor, builder grade faux marble, shiny brass light fixtures, wallpaper borders…and the list goes on. |
| Buyers usually fall into one of two camps when it comes to out-of-style homes. They either see it as an opportunity or a liability, and as a realtor, this is often out of your control. A home is a product, yes, but like most products, buyers will base their decision on their full experience. It is rare to completely detach from the emotions of buying a house and strictly deal with the nuts and bolts of the construction. It’s rare and the exception, to find house hunters that don’t need an emotional connection to purchase. Their brains simply won’t let them. |
| So there needs to be something that excites them visually. Something that makes them stop and linger in a room. |
A breakup or a breakthrough |
| Of course, “outdated” is subjective, but unlike dating, it really doesn’t have to be that complicated. |
| After all, the purpose of a first date – and looking for a house – is a conscious effort to discover what you like, what you dislike, and the “non-negotiables”, in other words, the best hookup. |
| Everyone has personal mate preferences – whether they leave used dental floss around the house, whether they hate dessert, don’t like cats, really like cats. But they’re not always obvious deal-breakers, either. |
| But like a first date with someone covered in Batman tattoos, a first impression is usually a lasting impression. |
Speed dating |
| Easy, impactful updates that cost nothing or very little. |
| Remove heavy fabrics, or lacey drapes, valances, ties, fringed trim that belong to the ’70s, ’80s and ’90s. They can be easily updated by swapping for crisp-and-airy white linen alternatives. Pro tip: Hang new curtains as close to the ceiling as possible to draw the eye up to create the illusion of taller ceilings. |
Cloaking |
| Remove tablecloths, no matter how burnished or worn the table. |
Soft launching |
| Covering up pink tiles with a closed shower curtain won’t solve the issue. A better option is to lean into the “light and bright” effect by decorating with new and fluffy white towels and a white orchid on the counter. |
Cushioning |
| Plaid wingback chairs or a tufted sofa could be updated by down toss cushions or a beautiful textured throw. Pillows are much cheaper than new furniture. |
Fluffer |
| An aged dresser could stand in as an entry piece, a serving area for beverages or as storage in a home office. |
Bed-crumbing |
| From drab to fab. Use bold bedding, toss pillows or modern art in a bedroom outfitted with dark wood furniture. Contemporary lamps will also update the room. |
Cupcaking |
| Style and sparkle. Inside of piles of dishes, arrange crystal glasses “soldier-style”, hard cover books to the front of the shelves, or large vases and art objects inside an heirloom hutch. |
Capering |
| A bold strategy. Replace tiny art pieces with one large piece. There are a myriad of inexpensive and quick options available. This not only updates a room, but brings it to life, drawing buyers into the room, not to mention a great MLS photo. |
Orbiting |
| A light change. Changing out dated (and brassy) light fixtures to contemporary ones will instantly add 20 years to a room. Even the chicest room will scream dated with a Tiffany or a fussy bell-style shade. Swap to new or just change out the shades. |
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By the way, when was your perfect date? Mine was April 26 because it wasn’t too hot and it wasn’t too cold. All I needed was a light jacket. |
It Won’t Stop Snowing
April 22, 2023 by
| “Everyone talks about the weather, but nobody does anything about it.” – Mark Twain Spring is a season Calgarians only read about. It won’t stop snowing. We watch with rising pique as it snows and melts. Snows and melts. Snows and doesn’t melt. Snows again. We are beginning to feel like Jack Nicholson in The Shining, our steady stream of grievances matching our unstylish fashion choices, while throwing in a few gritty observations about gnarly traffic patterns and inconvenient potholes. We ache for the arrival of buds, for the trees to blossom, for the pushing of little green hands out of the ground. Incrementally, and for a brief moment in between, we may hear birds sing, a mosquito buzz (how on earth did it get in here and where on earth did it come from?), and we feel as though we might break out in song and dance. We smile. We retire our worn puffy coats, stained with spilled coffee, holes in the pockets. We stop our vitamin D supplement and UV lamp therapy. We start to feel vibrant and alive. There is a glimmer of hope. Then it snows again. A direct hit to the gut. It’s like a wacky weather version of Waiting for Godot. What does spring think it’s doing? winter fool’s spring second winter spring of deception third winter mud season summer We are a land of chronic weather complainers. I read one study that said that 100% of people complaining about the weather didn’t change the weather at all. Which is why I feel bad for the weather. We have endured so many, many long weeks of dissonance. We’re cold and awkward, wearing sunglasses we don’t need, shivering in coats not thick enough. But one thing we Calgarians understand, it’s that winter doesn’t end simply because we’re tired of it – and that moisturizers are a part of wellness. April really is the month that sucks the most, partly because it’s not supposed to. This is supposed to be when it all starts getting better. But here we are anyway, in the heart of Spring in Deception when everything should be blooming green. High in optimism, low in reality. Bare branches and cold ground show uglier with spikes of green striving to make inroads in the frozen ground, like no one told them winter is still here. Dry scruffy patches of lawn, the colour of a dirty martini, only stand to emphasize the intestinal 50 shades of grey of the sky. Whining away the hours. Weather stories are boring. When we talk about the weather, it’s not because the weather is meaningless, but that it reminds us we have so much less control over our lives than we pretend to have. Maybe it’s just my mood: enduring my four hundredth cold of the year, in bed sending out photos of falling snow to anyone clever enough to be suntanning somewhere on a beach, too despondent to binge buy swimsuits that I’m not even sure I’ll ever get the chance to wear. There are many worse things than complaining, but it really bothers me when others are better at it than me. Callit spring. A practical joke. It’s been a very long winter. I’m calling it grateful anguish, because nature and winter can offer us time for reflection. And hopefully, gratitude. Everyone experiences a “wintering”season at one time or the other, and as Katherine May describes, it doesn’t always come in winter. Every season plays its part. It’s more about what’s happening in your inner world. Some winters happen in the sun,” she writes, and “wintering is a metaphor for those phases in our life when we feel frozen out or unable to make the next step, and that that can come at any time, in any season, in any weather; that it has nothing to do with the physical cold.” It’s like waiting for something to land, waiting for the moment when we would come to a first tentative answer. It requires taking an honest moment to look at where we’ve been, what we’ve done, what has been done to us, what we’re searching for, what we don’t have. Life moves forward by loss as well as by gain, by letting go and by holding on. We are here to walk through the mud. We learn our lessons by going through intense life experiences, not by skipping them. Sometimes you get a gift that you appreciate, but also hate. Like a sweater someone spent hours knitting for you in a colour that looks awful with your complexion. That’s how I’m feeling about the intermittent snow outside, just like that unflattering sweater. But we all have to wear that sweater. And thank goodness. Because boy, do we need it. |
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