If you haven't heard of Etsy

…grab your laptop and hit the closest coffee shop cuz you're gonna be a while. Etsy is an incredible online global marketplace where artists and DIYers post and sell their delightful handmade goodies. It's a charming collision of a giant craft fair and online shopping.

I had great success using Etsy as a resource for our wedding. We ordered everything from custom invitations and personalized water bottle labels, to a vintage material guestbook and my husband’s amboyna wood wedding band. It made the details personal and unique and provided huge inspiration for the wedding vision.

Here are a few of my favourite shops. Some of their treasures I own, some I’m still coveting. Happy shopping!

Lucalou coffee cozy


Winterberry Cottage vintage dictionary page print



Jump up and down vintage fabric banner



Mojo Spa Style sunny bib neckalce



Send a little love handmade card

Weekend wine find

We’ve officially gone organic. Well, at least for a month. That’s our test period to see if, 1) we feel better, 2) we can still afford to pay rent, and 3) we find more than two restaurants in Calgary where we can eat.

This weekend I found an amazing Chilean wine brand that not only caters to our recent hippie status (they make a delicious line from organic grapes), but they’re easy on the wallet (a sweet $8.99 at the Costco liquor store) and delicious on the palette (most important).

Founded in 1993, Cono Sur is a relatively newer winery, but speaking from my limited knowledge, they know their stuff. They boast a signature premium pinot noir, but offer everything from reserves to sparkling to organic wines, with a strong company focus on ethical production and environmental consideration.

On Saturday we tried and loved Cono Sur’s organic Cab Sauv that paired nicely with elk burgers, grilled pineapple, Greek salad and good friends. Yum.

The ninja hauler

As part of my parent’s sendoff into marital bliss, they recalled my car. Not that I was particularly attached to my champagne coloured Ford Focus, more so that in a city like Calgary, a vehicle is a must. I’m ready to hit the open road in something more large and in charge than the usual cars I’ve driven, so we’ve begun our search for a new set of wheels.


With cars on the mind, I recently stumbled across a Craigslist post I’d saved years ago. I can’t credit the author as the ad was anonymous, but I do hope this guy has since landed a career in writing. Or at least sold his Xterra because of this clever post.

Enjoy a laugh, even if you’re not into ninjas.

NINJA HAULER
Reply to: sale-926508578@craigslist.org
Date: 2008-11-19, 10:04PM MST


OK, let me start off by saying this Xterra is only available for purchase by the manliest of men (or women). My friend, if it was possible for a vehicle to sprout chest hair and a five o'clock shadow, this Nissan would look like Tom Selleck. It is just that manly.

It was never intended to drive to the mall so you can pick up that adorable shirt at Abercrombie & Fitch that you had your eye on. It wasn't meant to transport you to yoga class or Linens & Things. No, that's what your Prius is for. If that's the kind of car you're looking for, then just do us all a favor and stop reading right now. I mean it. Just stop.

This car was engineered by 3rd degree ninja super-warriors in the highest mountains of Japan to serve the needs of the man that cheats death on a daily basis. They didn't even consider superfluous amenities like navigation systems (real men don't get lost), heated leather seats (a real man doesn't let anything warm his butt), or On Star (real men don't even know what On Star is).

No, this brute comes with the things us testosterone-fueled super action junkies need. It has a 265 HP engine to outrun the cops. It's got special blood/gore resistant upholstery. It even has a first-aid kit in the back. You know what the first aid kit has in it? A pint of whiskey, a stitch-your-own-wound kit and a hunk of leather to bite down on when you're operating on yourself. The Xterra also has an automatic transmission so if Libyan terrorists are chasing you, you'll still be able to shoot your machine gun out the window and drive at the same time. It's saved my bacon more than once.

It has room for you and the four hotties you picked up on the way to the gym to blast your pecs and hammer your glutes. There's a tow hitch to pull your 50 caliber self-cooling machine gun. I also just put in a new windshield to replace the one that got shot out by The Man.

My price on this bad boy is an incredibly low $12,900, but I'll entertain reasonable offers. And by reasonable, I mean don't walk up and tell me you'll give me $5,000 for it. That's liable to earn you a Burmese-roundhouse-sphincter-kick with a follow up three fingered eye-jab. Would it hurt? Yes. Let's just say you won't be the prettiest guy at the Coldplay concert anymore. There's only 69,000 miles on this four-wheeled hellcat. Trust me, it will outlive you and the offspring that will carry your name. It will live on as a monument to your machismo.

Now, go look in the mirror and tell me what you see. If it's a rugged, no holds barred, super brute he-man macho Chuck Norris stunt double, then contact me. I might be out hang-gliding or BASE jumping or just chilling with my ladies, but I'll get back to you. And when I do, we'll talk about a price over a nice glass of Schmidt while we listen to Johnny Cash.

To sweeten the deal a little, I'm throwing in a pair of MC Hammer pants for the man with rippling quads that can't fit into regular pants. Yeah, you heard me. FREE MC Hammer pants.

Rock on.

Red hot

I’ve seriously been craving red hair. You’d think I have enough changes to get used to in my life right now, but I kept things so brunette and “just a ½ inch trim please” leading up to the wedding that I’m totally itching for some more action in the hair department.

Wikipedia told me that only 1% to 2% of the human population has red hair. Stop and consider this. How many people do you know, or have in your phone or on Facebook that have been blessed with swoon-worthy copper locks? I just counted, one. Lucky girl. I’m constantly aiming for originality so this statistic convinced me a little more.

Wikipedia also told me that: Cultural reactions have varied from ridicule to admiration; many common stereotypes exist regarding redheads and they are often portrayed as the "fiery-tempered redhead". I’m going to cross my fingers for admiration and hope that this decision will further me from my frequent blonde moments rather than spark my temper.

Hair is a fickle, yet an important thing. So rock what you got or go bold and try something new. I remain a content brunette for today, but stay tuned for further developments on my pursuit for redheaded brilliance. Hope to join you soon my ginger friends out there.

Honeymoon happenings: part deux

It seems that everyone has some sort of crazy honeymoon tale. I was somewhat thankful after we lost our passports (see Honeymoon happenings: part one), as I figured that was it. That was our honeymoon mishap. Who was I kidding? We were one day in.

We enjoyed leisurely mornings by the pool and lazy afternoons on the beach. We snorkeled, swam, read novels, walked and talked, took photos and played scrabble. But the food my friend, was key. We consumed delicious made-to-order breakfasts, juicy tropical fruit, Caribbean barbecue, beachfront cocktails, afternoon tea and scones, champagne from Champagne, four course dinners, top wine selections, ocean side picnics, and less I forget the rum and raisin ice cream, crème brulee and chocolate croissants, oh my! For a couple of foodies, we were going flambéed bananas.

Yet, on about day three of our stay and about 14 desserts in, I realized something was missing. Now how do I put this politely… let’s just say I wasn’t needing to spend much time in the bathroom. Number one, this freed up a little more time for collecting shells on the beach, but number two, oh forget it.

So much for any kind of newly wed discretion. It was inevitable that I had to share my ‘difficulty’ with my very understanding husband, who showed no embarrassment while encouraging me to go spend time in the restroom. Chilling out in the bathroom with an InStyle while my man knocked on the door asking how things were going was not exactly how I envisioned wedded bliss.

On about the same day, I noticed several bug bites on my legs. By that evening, we counted 26 irritating bites covering my legs and arms. Over an omelet the following morning, we found out from, Paula, the lovely breakfast chef, that it was ‘sand fly’ season. Oh good, thanks for the FYI. The closest thing I had to an anti-itch remedy was my Chanel Chance perfume. I actually had to stop shaving my legs in order to avoid further induced scratchy madness. Itchy, hairy legs. Now that’s a recipe for a steamy honeymoon night.

Leaving the sand flies behind, we said goodbye to St. Lucia and jetted off to California to complete our honeymoon in Los Angeles. Armed with my Aveeno calamine cream, we enjoyed many memories in Santa Monica, Venice Beach, Disneyland and Hollywood.

My grand honeymoon finale took place on the last night of our trip, which was spent mostly on the bathroom floor with my good friend, T.B. (toilet bowl). Less I forget, my other friend. My best friend. Who also spent the night on the floor with me while the king size bed in our luxury room lay empty.

All ailments aside, it was the best trip I’ve ever been on. It was the perfect scenario, yet a wonderful reminder that life is far from perfect. Sure we had a few moments that were less than romantic but it doesn’t get much better than seeing two weeks in what your husband really meant by “in sickness and in health”.

Honeymoon happenings: part one

It’s raining, my hubby is at work and I have cookies in the oven. Just like good wives should, right? So after a quick phone chat with my sister, she inspired me to get blogging about our honeymoon.

I, along with a bazillion other unsuspecting bride-to-be’s, envisioned being whisked away after the wedding on a marvelous, picturesque tropical getaway. Our honeymoon was by all means marvelous and picturesque, but amidst the Caribbean sun, poolside cocktails and romantic strolls on the beach, we encountered a few glitches along the way.

We boarded a packed flight in Miami destined for the lush island of St. Lucia. One glance around the plane and it quickly became apparent that 99% of the travelers were all in fact honeymooners as well. I couldn’t decide what gave it away. Was it the multitude of large, blinding left hand rocks and perfect French manicures, the proud wearers of the glittery BRIDE tees, or the gal in first-class still wearing her veil?

Because the flight was bursting with mushy couples, my duo and I got separated and instead of cuddling up to my hubby of 36 hours, I got plopped next to Mr. and Mrs. PDA for the 4-hour flight. It was a breath of balmy tropical air to get off that plane and begin our week of rest and relaxation. After some minor chaos through customs and baggage, we were loaded into a cab bound for our resort, East Winds Inn.

The hour-long ride through the mountainous terrain of the island did a number on my stomach, but we arrived in one piece and checked into our ocean side villa. Bless my man and his devotion to take charge and take care of me. He was adamant about being on passport duty during our voyage and happily kept track of our money and travel documents. We arrived in our room and I’d barely had time to scope the free bath amenities when I heard a muffled, “You have the passports, right?” Sure don’t, babe. My visions of a perfect first night on our island escape slowly faded as my red-faced husband stomped back to the front desk to make some calls.

It truly is a miracle that the passports got turned in at the airport and our resort was able to track them down. And PTL (praise the Lord) for the laidback Caribbean’s, because all it took to get them back was a hand-written note of permission to be delivered by a cab driver. One afternoon, while enjoying a dip in the pool, the passports were safely in our hands. Literally. Soaking wet or not, we had them back.

Despite being known by staff as “that couple that lost their passports”, it was an incredible trip and the perfect way to spend our first days as husband and wife. So tonight, I hope to leave you with a smile and a little reminder to always triple check for your passports.

Joy in July

It was while planning my wedding that I decided my next grand calling in life was to write a blog. If you are, or have been a bride, you understand that planning your wedding coupled with additional major projects is bound to be a total mess. While wedding planning happily became a part-time job for me, I vowed to begin my blogging adventure after our June nuptials. So here we are, July 1, three weeks after our most magnificent wedding day, and I am set to write, share and inspire.

My goal with this project is to pass on my joys. To inspire as I’m inspired. To showcase the delights in my life to enthuse others to appreciate the pretty, the fun and the every day joys that are too easy to overlook. I want to write, cook, craft, photograph, entertain, style and capture beautiful moments that hopefully encourage you to do the same.

It’s my faith that brings me true joy, but it’s also through simplistic creativity, sweet details, bright beauty and fresh experiences that allow me to enjoy life a little bit more every day. There is much to be thankful for, and I so easily forget to do exactly that- be thankful.

Appreciate the good in your life and inspire others to do the same.

I’m Alexandra Joy and I have many joys to share…