dragonfruit

Having covetously eyed both its appearance and name since childhood, Thursday finally saw me shrug and plop a dragonfruit into my shopping basket beside the chocolate and organic flour. That afternoon, I sliced satisfactorily through the bright pink oval at last. 

The rubbery peel fell away from the soft, strange flesh without argument. My first bite was small, tentative--unsure of the consistency and the taste. But the flesh was like a firm, dry watermelon, the seeds like that of a kiwi, and the taste of nothing but the mildest sweetness. It is a singular fruit, to be sure--not quite living up to its enchanting appearance--but remains inviting and healthy enough to not be last I will ever buy. 

the afternoon skirt

A week or so ago, after Lizzie unexpectedly sent me this wonderful skirt tutorial, I immediately left my sociology book and bowl of grapes and set to work at my Elna 5200. 

I knew that I had two meters of printed cotton left over from another project, and it happened to be precisely the amount I needed.

It was good just to work, not thinking about everything else that I "should" have been doing. Sewing was all I wanted to do. 

I measured, cut, ruffled, basted, stitched, pressed, and hemmed. Hours passed.

After so many months of ignoring my sewing machine, we had again established our dearly held relationship. By the time I closed the last seam, I couldn't stop smiling. 
 

An entire pot of Orange Pekoe and three Black Keys albums later, I was finished. 

canada day

Last night, my mum, sister and I took up our picnic blanket and headed to the Seven Hills for the Canada Day fireworks. Saint Albert always puts on a good show. We found a spot directly beneath the targeted sky.

They began at 11 o'clock, though the sky was hardly dark. The air filled with exploding lights and smoke and the smell of gunpowder. We craned our necks back to take them in. Some looked like electricity. Some looked like flowers. Some looked like sea creatures. I remembered why I love fireworks, and thought:

'Sometimes, patriotism pays off.'