Sarah + Tim

a canadian, american and calico living in perfect harmony

Ginger’s Going to be Fixed – Sob! July 30, 2009

Filed under: Ginger — Sarah @ 7:48 pm
Tags: , ,
Ginger nuzzling with Tim

Ginger nuzzling with Tim

Tomorrow we’re taking kitten Ginger to be fixed — sad!  The one we call Ginger is actually 2 years old and we have gone through many a heat with the hope that Ginger would have her own kittens someday.  Yes, I know that Bob Barker tells everyone to have their animals spayed and neutered.  Yes, I know that there is animal overpopulation.  But Ginger.

Ginger has the most incredible personality in a cat.

  • While she isn’t a snuggler, everytime we come home, she headbutts us and nuzzles our faces and that’s how she lets us know how glad she is we’re home.
  • If our voices are raised, she’ll come running and come right up to your face to make sure everything is okay.
  • Wherever we are in the house, she’ll be within a close proximity of us for the company.
  • As a calico, she coons!  You’ve got to hear it, she’s very vocal.

And the whole idea with breeding Ginger was so that there would be more little Gingers in the world!  I’m not sure I’m ready to let go of this pleasant thought. 😦

I feel like she doesn’t know what’s coming and is going to hate us, that I am deserting her.  Ah!

Will she forgive me?  Am I doing the right thing?  This is pretty permanent… It’s not too late to back out…

Although to have not-in-heat-Ginger would be really nice…

Have you had similar experiences spaying or neutering your animals?  Do they change?  Do they stay the same?


Girl’s Night Out / Belated Birthday Party July 26, 2009

Filed under: food — Sarah @ 3:54 pm
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flourgirlsdoughboys-10August 1, 2009
2:00 -4:30pm
Flour Girls and Dough Boys
35 N. Barrett Ave., American Fork, UT
Me: 801-851-0055 | FGDB: 801-763-9232

If you are experiencing deja vu, it’s because this is the second time you’ve been invited to the same party!

Unfortunately, the original party scheduled June 20 was canceled at the last minute because my Grandma passed away.

This time, we will FOR sure party! If you have been needing some fun girl’s time, you do not want to miss this! You’ll see old friends and meet new ones and great connections for girl’s night out parties for the rest of the year!  So give the gift of your company and come party with us!

Held at the illustrious Flour Girls and Dough Boys. ‘Nuff said.

Check out their delicious menu at  Please RSVP if you can join us!

Sweets from Flour Girls and Dough Boys. Photo c/o My Pemberley

Sweets from Flour Girls and Dough Boys. Photo c/o My Pemberley

The Lovely FGDB Staff

The Lovely FGDB Staff

The Unforgettable Menu

The Unforgettable Menu

Carol, the genius behind it all

Carol, the genius behind it all

Flour Girls and Dough Boys Cupcakes

Flour Girls and Dough Boys Cupcakes


Twilight Saga: New Moon Premiere November 19, 2009 July 25, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — Sarah @ 11:43 am
Tags: ,

Be the first to see New Moon in November!  We are having an Advanced showing PARTY!, reserved seating, prize drawings and fun photo ops!

New Moon Premiere - November 19, 2009

Here are the details:

  • Thursday, November 19, 2009
  • 7:00 – 10:00pm
  • The District in South Jordan, Utah
  • 11400 S. Bangerter Hwy, South Jordan, UT
  • 801-718-4349

Seats are first come first served once payment is recieved. Payment due by Aug. 1st 2009. Showtime will be no earlier than 7pm and no later than 9pm, Megaplex will assign exact time in the fall.  Imagine, then you would have time to catch it again with all the Midnighters if you want!

Send an email to to request tickets. $15 per person.  For other info and updates visit:

If you have reserved seats and payment is not received by Aug 1st, the seats will be released.
**This event is expected to sell out, if extra people show up with your party they will be turned away, NO exceptions.  All seats are assigned and we need you to stick to the seat number on the ticket.  The film will be stopped if these requirements are not met, and will restart once everyone is in the correct seats.  Please be respectful of others.

A big thank you to Celeste Casey for arranging this incredible event!

Note: If you gals would like to go together, let me know and we can book our seats together!


Learning the art of flamenco dancing by Lia Grainger July 24, 2009

One of my favorite passions is flamenco dancing.  Here is a phenomenal article by a gal I danced with in Vancouver, Lia Grainger, published in the National Post, a major Canadian newspaper.

Post reporter Lia Grainger participates in a summer intensive flamenco dance class. Photo by the National Post

Post reporter Lia Grainger participates in a summer intensive flamenco dance class. Photo by the National Post

Lia Grainger, National Post Published: Saturday, July 18, 2009

The first thing you will notice will be her eyes, black beneath furrowed brows, staring intently as she barks orders in Spanish. Next you will see her arms, lean and tan, cutting circles in the air with quick, fluid movements. Last will be her feet, pounding the grey mylar floor — ticka ticka ticka ta!–as she shouts without missing a beat, ” Hacer los pasos no es bailando -neccesitas sentirlo!” Doing the steps is not dancing — you must feel it.

Ursula Lopez has travelled from Seville, Spain, to this basement studio in downtown Toronto, where for the next week she’ll be teaching a small group of Canadian women the art of flamenco.

For the uninitiated, the word flamenco conjures images of flowing ruffled skirts, stomping feet, clicking castanets and the strum of a Spanish guitar. The art form does have its origins deep in Andalusia, and for those intent on learning to dance, sing or play flamenco, nothing compares with spending a month or two in a small Spanish town, hanging out in the caves of Granada or the bars and cafes of Jerez with the descendants of the Amaya or Farruco families, flamenco’s living legends.

But for those who don’t have the time or money for an annual jaunt to the south of Spain, each summer, many of the Spanish flamenco masters travel to Canada to share their gifts with unlikely northern flamenco junkies like me.

Today’s class has six participants, all advanced students that have been studying for years. At 28 and with six years of flamenco under my belt, I am probably one of the youngest and least experienced dancers here, for unlike ballet, flamenco does not exclude based on age or body type. Instead, as a dancer grows older, her style evolves to match her maturing physique. I’ve been in classes with women in their seventies, and some of the most respected purveyors of the art form are portly grandmothers, or, as my Vancouver teacher Oscar Nieto calls them, “flamenco mamas.”

“It’s easy to become a flamenco junkie because you can’t get enough: You feel so good when you’re doing or watching it,” says Esmeralda Enrique, the director of the Esmeralda Enrique Academy of Spanish Dance where this one-week workshop with its Spanish guest teacher is taking place.

Maria Litman, one of my fellow students, is one of these flamenco addicts: “I didn’t think that it would really affect my life, but once I started I couldn’t take just one class –it just feels good. It’s the interaction between my body and my mind that really makes me feel alive.”

I moved to Spain in search of that feeling. It had taken less than a year for flamenco to completely consume me. School, relationships and jobs all seemed bland and irrelevant when compared with the raw vitality of flamenco music and dancing. I dropped everything and bought a flight to Granada, where for six months I studied dance in a small, whitewashed cave buried in the hillside of the small city in southern Spain. In places the room was so small that I couldn’t raise my arms above my head. Each day for five hours 11 students and I would cram into the tiny, sweaty space and perform drills and choreographies as my teacher banged the 12-beat rhythm out with a long wooden cane, shouting unintelligibly in Spanish. It was heaven.

And now, for this one week with Ms. Lopez, I feel like I’m back in that cave, with nothing to think about or know but flamenco.

She begins the class, running through some simple arm exercises and making corrections to our individual technique. “Siempre delantero,” she says to me, reaching up to pull my raised arms forward.

Ms. Lopez speaks no English, and though most of us understand little to no Spanish, her instructions rarely need translation. “There are always foreigners in my classes in Seville,” she later explains in Spanish. “If they speak even a little, it’s no problem. Everyone understands.”

She moves into a footwork exercise and I am quickly breathless. “Levante los pieds!” Lift your feet. My calves are burning and the beads of sweat roll down my forehead and cheeks, collecting in droplets at the tip of my chin and nose. I shake them off and feel my wet ponytail slap against my neck as my feet continue to pound the floor in a steady, rolling rhythm. I glance up and Ms. Lopez is looking back at me, smiling. “La alta,” she says. The tall one.

As a 6′ 1” ex-basketball player, I am an unlikely flamenco dancer: The best are generally small and compact. But seven years ago in a Vancouver restaurant called the Kino Cafe, I saw my first performance. The dancer’s name was Kasandra, and she silenced the boisterous audience with a choreography that left several jaws, including mine, on the floor. Kasandra pounded the shaking stage as though she wanted to break through it, a look of pure rage on her face, only to burst into an exuberant smile as she passed the fitful climax of the her performance.

The emotional abandon I witnessed that night is an essential characteristic of flamenco, and something Ms. Lopez constantly halted our five-day workshop in Toronto to discuss.

Though she meticulously led us through a carefully planned choreography, she always emphasized that the steps don’t matter; it is the feeling, the emotion of the performance that will connect the dancer with the musicians and the audience. “Los pasos no son importantes.” The steps are not important.

Of course in the beginning the steps are important — a dancer needs to have at least a basic understanding of the movements before she can perform with any real force.

It was during my first year that I learned about the basic elements of flamenco — song, guitar, dance and palmas (hand clapping) — and the essential interplay between these parts that creates that rare moment when everything harmonizes, a moment the Spanish call duende.

I also observed a tightly woven and fiercely loyal community of women and men bound together by their love of the “arte” of flamenco.

“This is my students’ second home,” says Ms. Enrique of her studio. “They feel comfortable here, and they have friends, lifelong friends … There are so many people that will go to anything flamenco.”

Many who go to Spain to study dance or guitar never come back. I did, and now that I’m here in Toronto, I depend on teachers like Ms. Enrique to bring the masters like Ursula Lopez to me. And Ms. Lopez depends on us, on the strength of small tight-knit communities like this one, full of women and men who covet her skills and passion enough to bring her halfway around the world to spend a week with them, dancing.

Flamenco stirs something in us all.  If this article has made you graviate towards flamenco, here are a few how-to’s for your benefit from the National Post:



Officially a Permanent Resident! July 12, 2009

Filed under: Canada,love — Sarah @ 7:31 pm
Tags: , ,

The Proposal MovieAfter seeing The Proposal on Friday afternoon (Kellene and I played hooky in the middle of the work day to catch it — how cool is that!) I have to admit I had a moment of panic.  After watching Sandra Bullock play a Canadian woman who is about to be deported, I thought about my current pending immigration status and got a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.

What if they rejected my application to be a permanent resident??  What if they made me leave my husband and go back to Canada solo???

Needless to say, I started to worry.  Considering after being summoned twice for my biometrics (a fancy, scary word for fingerprints) they both were rejected by the FBI.  And what’s more, the evidence we had presented to them was not adequate to prove our situation.  So we were asked to send in nothing less than the following:

  • Notarized witness affidavits from people who have known Tim and I since before we were married, describing our state of marital bliss
  • All the records possible (bank, car, credit cards, life insurance, health insurance, car insurance, phone records)
  • A written statement in my own words about how we met, courted, etc.  Who was at our wedding.  Photos.  Wedding invitations.  (You’ll be happy to know I sent them a lovely little scrapbook with photos from our courtship and wedding. Be careful what you ask for, Department of Homeland Security…)

    The picture from our wedding announcement, taken by Stephanie

    The picture from our wedding announcement, taken by Stephanie

Then Friday evening I got the letter from the Department of Homeland Security.

You are deemed to be a lawful permanent resident of the United States.

At long last!  No strings attached!  Conditions removed!  No deportation!  It’s been a long haul, baby.  Phew!

Are you living in the country you were born in?  Did you marry someone from another country?  Have you jumped through the fiery hoops of immigration?  Did you walk away unscathed?  Do tell!


I Cut My Hair! July 5, 2009

Filed under: family,hair — Sarah @ 4:33 pm
Tags: , ,

Oh yeah, I cut my hair!  I blogged about it on my modest fashion blog, Cable Car Couture, but in case you missed it, here’s a recap.

I’ve been talking about cutting my hair and going for something fun and edgy.  I’d even called the salon several times to try and book an appointment THAT DAY while I was in the mood.  Well, I finally bit the bullet and scheduled a cut for my birthday at Metropolitan Salon in Provo, Utah.  They are the BOMB.  Here is the owner, Mike (also the brilliance behind the cut!), and me with the final result:


I have to say, I totally love it!  It’s so versatile and fun and spunky.

Unbeknownst to me, my sister Stephanie also cut her hair in a similar fashion that week!  Great minds think alike, what can I say!


So now, the girls seem to have less hair than the boys do in my family.  Strange, strange world.

BUT, Joe managed to style his hair to make it look a lot like mine when we were in Canada. Twinsies!


How is your hair cut right now?


Sunday Dinner at Grandma’s and Grandpa’s

When we were kids, every Sunday we would go to Grandma and Grandpa’s house in North Vancouver for Sunday dinner.  Without fail, we would have meat spaghetti with Parmesan cheese, homestyle shake and bake chicken with Miracle Whip on it (trust me, it’s divine) and chocolate milk.  Then we’d watch Star Trek.  Every single Sunday, it was tradition.


With Grandma’s recent passing, Grandma’s children and grandkids gathered together at her home to remember her.  We thought it only fitting that the last meal we ate together in her home be that same Sunday dinner that she used to make for us, chocolate milk and all.  Even us lactose intolerant few had a couple sips 🙂





I think I may have decided what to have for dinner…

Do you have any nostalgic meals that your parents or grandparents made that have carried on through your kitchen?