Old Fashioned Granola Recipe

here's how to make classic granola - image Stacy Reynaud

It's $20 for 500 grams of granola on Hornby. Why? 

I made my own. Nothing fancy, just old-fashioned granola. 

It's vegan if that makes any difference.

Granola lasts about two weeks in an airtight container. 

Buy a vacuum sealer, and you can keep it for six to eight months! I just bought this one, and I love it.

INGREDIENTS

• 4 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
• 6 tablespoons each of pecans, pumpkin seeds, almonds*
• 1/2 cup packed light brown sugar
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1/4 teaspoon cardamom
• 1/3 cup coconut oil (melted)
• 1/4 cup agave syrup
• 1 tablespoon granulated sugar
• 1 tablespoon vanilla extract

STEPS

1. Preheat oven to 300 F.
2. Grease a large baking pan (I use vegan butter).
3. Mix the oats, pecans, brown sugar, salt, cinnamon and cardamom in a large bowl.
4. Combine the oil, agave, and granulated sugar in a small saucepan.
5. Bring to a simmer; immediately remove from the heat and stir in vanilla.
6. Pour over the oat mixture.
7. Stir well until thoroughly combined.
8. Spread in the prepared baking pan.
9. Bake until golden brown - between 25-30 minutes - stirring every 8-10 minutes.
10. Transfer the pan to a rack and let cool completely*

* I soak my pecans and almonds in water for a few hours and then bake at 250 F for 50 minutes. If you do this, too, remember that the nuts are already cooked and burn when you put them in the oven again for 30 minutes. I learned the hard way! 

* Because we're using coconut oil, the granola sticks together quite well (coconut oil solidifies when cool). I let my granola cool for about an hour, then use a spatula to lift it out of the pan and break it up.

Doused in Mud Soaked in Bleach

My home on Hornby Island

Come doused in mud, soaked in bleach 

As I want you to be 

As a trend, as a friend 

As an old memoria 

 - Kurt Cobain, Come as You Are

It was Christmas Eve, and I wanted to dress up. I knew it'd be my cat Flo's, and possibly my Dad's, last Christmas, but something in me wanted to get dressed up,

Only a few pairs of socks and a black nightie (just in case), made it into my unfastenable duffel bag for my two-week stay, and here I was on week 30—two. 

Wearing the same fucking thing:

 

✅    men's vintage jeans - six sizes too big 

✅    thrifted wool Acne sweater – heavily repaired 

✅    burgundy fast-fashion toque – stretched out 

✅    men's 50-year-old dead duck down coat – shedding feathers 

✅    hiking boots - muddy 

I was as dumpy and worn out as my clothes. 

I can't remember if I was wearing the fake fur coat when I took off from Vancouver nine months prior or if I'd shoved it into my conveniently unfastenable bag while I ran out my door. Probably the latter. 

Well whatever, it now hung on a hook-shaped piece of driftwood that my Dad drilled into the wall beside my front door—the summer before all this shit happened. 

Pacificnorthwest accountrement

My fuck this, I don't give a shit anymore attitude wasn't fully developed yet at nine months in, but it was strong enough to construct a whatever; I'm going to dress up and find some people to stand around with. 

That dusty fake fur was the dressiest thing I had on that island of woe.

I thought about styling the dust catcher up with my little black nightie, long johns and hiking boots—and since grunge never died on Hornby...

Too friggin cold. 

Scratched that.

Agh Go.

I wiped off my boots and grabbed the dusty coat on the way out the door. I was headed to Ringside to see if I could find some humans. 

Ringside's Hornby's version of downtown and is located at the Island's only four-way stop. It consists of six vibrantly painted hand-built caravans organized in a circle - hence Ringside - a conglomerate of local artisan wares, tie-dyed tourist crap, seasonal tacos, and city-priced coffee. It's also a dependable spot where locals gather for rumours and news. You go to the gravel gas lot to find out where to get an iron clawfoot tub, but if you want to know whose nephew is sleeping with Helene's daughter, you go to Ringside. 

The past nine months were difficult for everyone on the Island. The Co-op grocery constantly ran out of food and supplies, people were divided by medical beliefs, and the winter hurricane winds had started early. 

As usual, I wasn't sure what I'd encounter beyond my gated yard, but I hoped it was humans. 

Walking across the gravel lot, I was greeted by social anxiety. I wasn't the only one who'd made the Christmas Eve pilgrimage. Ringside was packed. Folks dressed up in moth-eaten fur coats from the free store, Halloween top hats, silver Christmas boas from that box up in the rafters and the most outlandishly wacked array of Christmas accoutrements. 

Some stood alone, 

others in pairs, 

but most looked 

                       awkward 

and uncomfortable. 

It was a gathering of misfits, bound by our haphazard Christmas finery, an unbeknownst faith and resilience only a few will ever know. 

We'd pulled ourselves together in whatever way we could and left the isolation of our homes. Drawn together by a tradition that not many of us followed in the hopes of finding another suffering human in search of compassion. 

It takes courage to come out from behind a wall of isolating depression—IYKYK

Although I didn't talk to anyone on Christmas Eve, sharing the presence of other raw souls was more than enough.

Voodoo

We got together at Dave’s Halloween party, and he died in an avalanche in Whistler in March. 

I was briefly living in Kelowna. 

He was living in Whistler. 

We knew each other for years. We were in the same scene if you will. 

Steep runs, 

deep powder 

and 

adrenaline. 

Both of us painfully shy and awkward, 

too timid for anything beyond a nod and a “Hey.” 

The Halloween party was loud – 

there was some thrash band – 

and clumps of people I’d never seen before. 

I stood against the back wall, 

fur-clad with leather pants and a crotched bikini top. 

He approached me from out of the shadows. 

“We’re supposed to be together,” he motioned his hand at us. 

He was fur-clad, with tight leather pants and shirtless. 

Rock and roll wallflowers guarding the nearest exit. 

Shortly thereafter, we were at my place making “rock star nachos.” 

And shortly after that, I was stopped short by a huge Hendrix tattoo on his right shoulder. 

He stayed with me for a few days. 

We listened to music, 

played air guitar to Hendrix, 

laughed nonstop 

and had a glorious time. 

He was tender, corny, polite and beautiful. 

We made plans for Spring when I’d move back to Van. 

But he died before it could happen. 

I often think of that Hendrix tattoo; the first time I saw it, 

his beautiful smile, 

and our Spring that never happened. 

Last night, I dreamt of him. 

We were riding bikes and had stopped at a crossing. 

He leaned over to me and whispered, 

“I’m going to die soon.” 

But I already knew.

Blackberry Mojito Recipe

What to do with blackberries?

Make blackberry syrup,

then make a blackberry mojito!

Last year, I spent two days cutting down blackberry vines in my yard. This year, they're back in full force. I read that dumping boiling water on the roots will kill them, but I haven't tried this yet.

I'm trying to live off my land as much as possible this summer - I have blackberries everywhere - they're food, might as well eat them - or drink them!

Here's how to make a blackberry mojito. I adapted Natalie's recipe from Tastes Lovely and Dana's recipe from Minimalist Baker to suit my taste.

INGREDIENTS

• 2 oz rum
• 2 oz blackberry syrup
• soda water
• 7-10 mint leaves
• 1/2 lime (quartered)
• 1 cup crushed ice

INSTRUCTIONS

1. Grab a  highball glass 
2. Add mint leaves, lime wedges, rum and blackberry syrup. 
3. Muddle with the base of a wooden spoon if you don't have a muddler. 
4. Make sure the limes are muddled and the juice is squished all through that goodness. 
5. Stir it up a bit. 
6. Add crushed ice. 
7. Top with soda water and garnish with a wedge of lime. 

Stir it up from time to time as you're cocktailing - it keeps the melting ice flavoured with the blackberry mint lime rum goodness!

Check out my Pinterest for more cocktails.

A DECADE OF BIJOU LIVING

silk moth in a jelly moon Hornby 2018

A decade—ten years—sounds like a long time. I don't really have any concept of time—it's either "now" or "not now." I live in the moment—the adhd posse will relate.

Bijou Living started ten years ago, on May 5, 2008. I started writing to share cool things, give tips/techniques, and journal my thoughts and feelings. Where have I been since my last post? 

Life happens...

• 
  

2016

divorce

California

start pottery

soul searching

old love, new heartbreak

good friends

laughter

peace

2017

happiness

inspiration

closure

confidence

laughter

sensuality

love

gratification

peace

Jan - Apr. 2018

achievement

stamina

good friends

soul searching

peace

...

Leslie, at The Bloomerie (Arbutus and 12th), saw my pottery on Instagram and contacted me to purchase some pieces. Donald Yim saw my pottery at the Bloomerie and called me for an interview. Here's the fun video we did! 

The soundtrack most definitely steals the show...

January 2018 saw the first major retrospective of Thomas Kakinuma's ceramic art, and I'm proud to have been involved in it. 

Remember my Kakinuma post ten years ago? The Kakinuma family reached out to me in 2015 as they'd read the post. We met shortly after, and a beautiful friendship has evolved.

May 26, 2018 - I'll be selling my studio pottery (my work) as part of a small conglomerate of West Van potters (there are only 16 of us). We'll be at the West Van Community Centre from 10 to 3. You can view what I'll be selling on my Instagram. Please come say hi—I'll tell you the story behind each piece.


I'm locked out of my Facebook. I post regularly on Instagram, head on over that way - Instagram - Stories is where I share the behind-the-scenes stuff. Chat later, Stacy ✌🏻

check check one

Please come visit me on Instagram, Tumblr, Pinterest and Etsy. 

April 2016 - In French they say, 'Je suis fatigué'. Fatigué is a good word to describe the state of my inspiration over the past year - or in English, fatigued.  My inspiration feels frightened. An inspiration that needs to be coaxed out of hiding and tenderly guided into the dawn of a new land.

I'm just getting revved up. I'll be in LA for the month of May hangin' with my cousin's cat Wes. Taking the PCH down from San Francisco and chillin' the heck out. Lunch reservations at Chez Panisse, helping out a friend at the Rose Bowl Flea Market, night viewing of the Stahl Residence, and dropping by my old Alma Mater the Pickwick Vintage Show on May 29th - stoked about that - I can shop it this time, (for crazy lady in Vancouver clothes).

Here's a checklist of what I've been pondering as of late:

Fashion - the elderly Chinese ladies of Vancouver (per usual), Incredible String Band, and a smidgen of Hole (MTV Awards 1995). Hey, I've met quite a few guys in Vancouver lately with great style. There's Jacob over at Nordstrom (near the Chloe bags), Nigel at Gravity Pope and Mohammed who was at Gravity Pope but is now at Blanche MacDonald. If you're into men's street style go check out the kids hanging out on their 10:30 smoke break in front of BCIT downtown then watch them drive off in their Maseratis and Bentleys at 3:30.

Architecture -  There have been 787 demolition permits issued in the District of West Vancouver since 2010 - 174 in 2015 alone (population of West Van is 43,000). You know I left West Van in 2014 - or was it 2015? I left because I was frustrated by the mowing down of all the West Coast Modern homes. Well, turns out the District has voted unanimously to curb the size of McMansions. Here are the minutes of the meeting from December 2015. Too little too late in my opinion. The City of Vancouver issued 267 demolition permits in the first three months of 2016. If Mayor Gregor Robertson is tooting the greenest city horn - let's challenge him on the effect of the demolition cycle on landfills. I lived in Pt. Grey for six months (story in my next post). It was like a ghost town - no community, no neighbours hanging out in their yards shooting the shit, no cats rolling on the sidewalk, no sound of children playing in their yards. I moved eight blocks East and what a change! I was walking down Second last night and a group of people were having a glass of wine - they invited me to join them -  I did!

That being said how long do you think this house two blocks over from me is going to sit vacant?

My friend @bijouliving has the raddest apartment. This sunroom is a dream. 😍 #apartmenttherapy #decor #bohemian #indoorplants #decorinspiration #personalstyle #70s #sunroom #designideas #designsponge #vancouver #vancouverbc

A photo posted by Dana Landon (@itsmydarlin) on Apr 27, 2016 at 7:11am PDT

Interiors - I moved again in February - four times in one year.

Music - I have some playlists up on YouTube if you want to check out what I've been listening to.  Electric Moon, JJUUJJU, Federale, Moon Duo, A Place to Bury Strangers, Roy Harper, Bridget St. John, Magic Carpet and of course classical Indian music.

image via coding horror

Personal - Remember those Choose Your Own Adventure books from our childhood? I'll leave my adventure to you. Perhaps you've been following my other pages, perhaps you know my real adventure or perhaps I'm living vicariously through one you've chosen. Whichever - know this - everyone deserves a love story.

Design - I was contacted by the family of Thomas Kakinuma - the midcentury BC ceramicist that I've written about. They'd read a blog post I did and wanted to gift me a piece of his work. I went to their beautiful home and what's transpired is a wonderful friendship and a possible show at the UBC Museum of Anthropology (two year curation time but we're working on a small show in a different venue). You can see some of the images of his works I was able to photograph at his home posted over on my Facebook page.

Random - I've been so deeply moved by all the spiritually profound stolen images defaced with free hand font floating around my feeds. Please read this journal article On the Reception and Detection of Pseudo-Profound Bullshit.

Thanks for sticking around - I really value your readership! 

Oscar Niemeyer Chaise Lounge

Oscar Niemeyer Chaise Lounge images via R 20th Century

Originally published July 6, 2013.

Oscar Niemeyer made cool furniture as well as buildings? Of course, he did. Seems like most architects are also budding furniture designers (Frank Lloyd Wright, Ron Thom). Niemeyer passed away in December 2012 - 10 days short of his 105th birthday.

The Rio Chaise Lounge was designed in 1978 with his daughter, Anna Maria Niemeyer.

Features a bentwood frame, woven cane seat, and leather headrest pillow with weighted straps.

The image shown is a 2001 reissue for sale on 1st Dibs.

1978 original for sale at $28,000 in 2013

1978 original sold at auction for $22,000 in 2008

1978 original unsold at auction $5000 in 2003

images © R 20th Century