So I started with the Norden occasional table from Ikea and had it sprayed in Cloud White. I found the brown woven strap baskets that hold all of our hats, gloves, sunscreen and other necessary but unsightly objets at HomeSense. The mirror hanging over the table is also from Ikea and works perfectly, given that sense of light and sparkle that the hallway really needed. My absolute favourite piece is the stool. I had it custom made by my upholsterer. Not only is it practical for putting on and taking off boots and shoes, but the fabric is so much fun! I found it on Etsy, but if you’re looking for it, it’s an Alexander Henry print and it’s called “What a Hoot!” and it certainly is a hoot. The other touches include oil rubbed bronze and porcelain hooks that I found at Restoration Hardware and the chocolate ticking runner is from Dash & Albert.

Welcome to our front hall

I know I spent a little more than I probably should have for an area of the house that takes a lot of abuse since it is essentially our Grand Central Station, but I love looking at it every time I walk by and I think first impressions are important. When a person walks through our front door that front hall sets the tone for the rest of the house. It’s fun, it’s relaxed and it’s our family’s way of saying “welcome to our home.”

I’ve also been watching the progress my grape tomatoes have been making in the planter on my deck. They have to reach the right shade of red in order to be picked, but I’m reticent to wait too long lest the skins split, which was the case many times last summer. So I’ve been monitoring their progress daily and I just harvested the first half dozen or so, which will no doubt be devoured once again by my two pint-sized munchkins who are almost as keenly interested in the garden as I am when there is food involved.

And finally the last but certainly not the least, my grandfather’s raspberries. This year has produced a bumper crop of the sweetest most delicate jewels. We’ve been picking most of the berries from my parents’ raspberry “forest,” but when I checked my little patch by the air conditioner shoved in the most unattractive corner of our garden, I was pleasantly surprised by the berries I found. While I love picking berries (straw, rasp or blue), I prefer turning them into pies and jams rather than eating them raw. So the bowlful of berries now sitting in my fridge will join their cousins from my parents’ backyard in the jars of jam I’ll be making tomorrow night.

Progress report on the rest of the garden: the red cabbages and savoy cabbages are exploding, as are the tomato plants. The cucumber plants and pumpkin plants are now flowering and I expect to see fruit begin to form soon. There is a mammoth red pepper dangling from one of three pepper plants–a couple smaller ones on the other plants but nothing to blog about right now. And I’ve got dozens of golden beet seedlings but I’m not sure when or how to transplant them into the garden–suggestions anyone???

Just writing down his name brings tears to my eyes and a tightness to my throat.

If you had asked me six months ago if I would be so overcome with emotion at the demise of my dog, I would quickly have dismissed the idea. He was just a dog. But he was so much more than that.

I remember picking him out from the litter of ten puppies when he was just three weeks old.

The breeder single-handedly picked the puppies up by their backs, flipped them over to determine if they were male or female and then handed them to us to choose one.

I remember Duke nuzzling his black nose into my husband’s arms, a warm ball of fur, so calm. He was the one. He smelled like the fresh wood shavings used as a bed in his kennel. A mix of standard poodle and golden retriever, his breed would come to be known as the “golden doodle.”

With black marker in hand, the breeder “branded” our puppy with the letter ‘G’ on his pink belly. We would return in five weeks to take him home.

I didn’t grow up with dogs or any pets for that matter. My father had a thing about dogs that dated back to his childhood in Soviet-ruled Hungary. Dogs were used to intimidate, or guard. Not for companionship or play. But Duke would make a convert out of my dad.

Several years ago we lived with my parents while our house was being renovated.  When my father came home from work each day Duke was the first one to greet him at the door and my father would make him sit and then he would ask for a kiss, which Duke would obligingly give him with a big wet lick on his cheek.

That was the story for all of us—a friendly greeting at the door after a challenging day and all your troubles would vanish in a moment.

But it wasn’t all wags, licks and fetching.

There was the time Duke injured his Achilles tendon in a futile effort to catch a squirrel, which ended up costing us a pretty penny and a lot of consternation.

Or the time he devoured eight raw lamb chops right off the kitchen counter and we feared he would develop bloat.

Or the time he ran away and hid in the ravine after being scared off by a hot air balloon in the shape of a giant peanut.

I called Duke my perpetual two year-old. Just like a toddler, he demanded our attention; feeding, watering, walking, stooping and scooping, endless throwing of Frisbee or ball. And in return he gave us unconditional loyalty and love.

Early humans must have instinctively known about the fringe benefits of keeping a dog as a pet. In addition to their pack mentality, ability to catch small prey, and fend off intruders, dogs provide a companionship unmatched by any other animal.

Like a true domesticated canine, Duke knew his place in our pack, protecting and playing with us and our children in equal measure.

To non-dog people, the notion of a dog being a member of a family may seem ludicrous, even saccharine. Years ago even I may have been that person.

But I admit Duke had a profound effect on me and my family that I could not have predicted when we first brought him home eight and a half years ago.

Just like humans, dogs grow old or develop illnesses. In Duke’s case he got cancer. We could have exercised lifesaving measures, like chemotherapy, that just a few decades ago were only intended for humans. Instead we chose palliative care and spoiled him with table food, like my boeuf bourguignon and chicken pot pie.

On his last day I fed Duke three hot dogs. It was a sunny Spring afternoon. The kids were home from school and we were sitting in the backyard. Duke still insisted on fetching the ball even though he couldn’t see it only able to find it by smell and hobbled around the grass on three of four legs.

We decided to tell the kids it was time to say good-bye to Duke. Our three-year-old was more interested in digging in the sand, but our six-year-old had plenty of questions and plenty to say.

After much discussion he wrapped up the conversation with the matter-of-fact pronouncement that all life must come to an end.

Only a day after his death and friends are asking if we will get another dog. It’s too premature to say, but I feel with some certainty we will get another dog. I’m just not sure I’m ready to journey through the peaks and valleys of dog ownership again just yet.

In the meantime our son has planned a memorial service for Duke. We are burying his collar and tags under the dogwood tree in our backyard (how à propos) and singing a prayer.

That backyard feels a whole lot emptier without Duke in it, but it is full of great memories that we will carry with us.

Duke Sept 15, 2001- April 26, 2010

My younger son turned three last week and I got it into my head several weeks back that I had to make him a spectacular cake. Put my new found cake decorating skills to work and turn out something fabulous. Being the over ambitious person that I am and with only borrowed time to do it, I thought I was picking a rather easy design in the form of a Lego cake. Lego has become a favourite past time for my boys so I thought it fitting to make a cake in the shape of bricks. The bonus came in the form of a Lego man cake mold from a neighbour. So I started by baking Ina Garten’s flag cake as well as her chocolate butter cream cake. I baked slab cakes AND mini cupcakes. Once baked, cooled and refrigerated, I sliced the slab cakes in thirds and constructed two rectangular cakes, four layers high alternating the flag cake with the chocolate cake. I topped them off with the mini cupcakes, all with a mocha butter cream that I kind of made up a recipe for. Once crumb coated and cooled, I applied home-made marshmallow fondant. I know, I know, I’m crazy. I just could have bought the fondant from the store, but no, I had to make this damn cake FROM SCRATCH! I didn’t love the way the fondant turned out but it was definitely more malleable than the store-bought kind. To make myself super crazy I decided the two bricks needed to sit atop one slab cake, which I covered in green fondant (that one was store-bought). And with a star tip I decorated the Lego man in coloured vanilla butter cream. I think I must have made enough cake to feed a small army. While there were plenty of leftovers there was no man left in sight. He was devoured by the kids and the adults had to satisfy their sweet tooths with the giant bricks of cake (too bad!).

I think it was well worth the effort, and while I’m nowhere near as talented as some of the crazy cake decorators who do this for a living, I did give myself a pat on the back for my attempt. I’ll leave it to you to be the judge. Unfortunately I can’t give you a taste, but I can leave you with the recipe for the mocha butter cream.

Lego Cake

MOCHA BUTTER CREAM RECIPE

1 cup unsalted butter (room temperature)

3/4 cup vegetable shortening

4 cups of icing sugar (sifted)

1/4 cocoa powder (sifted)

2 Tbsp. (give or take) strong brewed coffee

Cream the butter and shortening together

Add the icing sugar and cocoa powder and whip until fluffy, adding the coffee to thin consistency of icing as necessary.

What a cute tasty looking Lego man!