Monthly Archives: October 2013

Smell my feet!

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I do not know how this happened, but in addition to the box of 90 miniature Hershey’s bars that I purchased a few weeks ago, I somehow decided that this was a good idea:

Given that we average between five and ten trick-or-treaters a year, and, on a related note, since my kids are two of the very few that prowl our very unpopular street they are the recipients of massive neighbourly generosity, by tomorrow I predict that we will have approximately one thousand little candies in the house. I don’t know a) why I bought so much, or b) why I bought the one candy that I cannot leave alone – Rockets. Mmmm. Artificial dextrose-y goodness. They are also vegan. It should be part of their marketing slogan: vegan and gluten free! Really, the Rockets people should be calling me.

I was smart enough not to buy flats of chips, though. Those wouldn’t have even lasted the afternoon by the time I got through with them. Trick-or-treat! I’d answer the door, bloated, with chip crumbs all over my sweater.

And here it is, Halloween. I’m never on trick-or-treat duty, thankfully, so I can cozy up on the couch waiting for our five-to-ten visitors and calming the dog when said visitors ring the doorbell. My job will be done when I figure out how to get these costumes

over top of these coats.

And now you can see for yourself why I’m perfectly happy to curl up on the couch with a bag of Rockets. COLD. Also, kind of lazy.

I know it’s only Halloween, but my mind has gone straight from pumpkins to Christmas. Santa’s coming! In only 55 days! So of course my mind is on ordering Christmas cards and photo calendars to give as gifts, and my sister-in-law, god bless her, has sent me her children’s wish lists, complete with online shopping options. I love my sister-in-law. She gets me. A couple of glasses of wine, the laptop, and my shopping will be, by and large, done. Maybe I’ll even do my shopping tonight while waiting for little ghouls and goblins. Multitasking!

Speaking of multitasking, I spent yesterday afternoon at the hair salon, and while my colour was “processing”, as they say, I put 270 photos into an album. Apparently I’m the only person left on planet earth under the age of 70 who still prints photos and puts them in albums. Everyone is into photo books now, and that does seem like a more efficient solution, but what happens when I die and the kids want to give photos of their childhood to their respective offspring? Morbid, I know, but it is Halloween. Also, I like to send prints to various relatives and adhere them onto my refrigerator so I can look at some cuteness while I spend my endless days in the kitchen.

So it was a win all around; I have photos in album and I have nice hair now. A few days ago I was thinking I needed a wig, not because of Halloween, but because I truly loathed my hair. Here’s the before shot:

Those are my dad’s genetics, right there. Well, except for the forehead wrinkles, that seems to be my own special characteristic. Good thing my dad is so good about excavating dead mice from my house and being calm in the midst of my total hysteria, elsewise I might get cranky about being on a six-week colour cycle.

But here’s the after!

I gave my hair a little toss just to get that shampoo commercial feel. Although maybe I should have held off a couple of days AND bought fun packs of chips, just so I could scare small children at my door. THIS IS MY COSTUME, BAHAHAHAHA.

So eeeeeeevvillllllllll

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The Halloween Dance was all that anyone could hope it would be, and more. Well, except for the two women who showed up early, kids in tow, and complained bitterly that there was a charge. Even after my friend explained that the dance is, indeed, a fundraiser, they continued to complain about the $3 charge, the dollar that was charged per bake sale item, and the fact that there were minimum bids on items of a certain value at the silent auction. I tried to sweetly and gently explain the role of the Parent Association in our school – fundraising dollars going to classroom supplies and to sponsor certain clubs and committees – but the women refused to even look at me or acknowledge that I was speaking. It took some major self control to not put my face three inches away from theirs and say “LOOK AT ME WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU.”

Other than those two, a good time was had by all. We raised lots of money – no thanks to Misses Crabby Pants who were also wearing total mom jeans, not that I’m being bitchy or anything, I’m just stating a fact, MOM JEANS – and the dance floor was packed all night long. Plus my kids were Luke Skywalker and Count Dracula, so that was fun.
 


Mark’s eyebrows are totally what mine would look like if I didn’t pluck them.

Do I look eeeeeeeevilllllllll?

It was beautifully warm on Saturday, followed by heavy snowfall on Sunday, which feels just right for October in Calgary. All of the shrubs that hadn’t yet lost all their leaves are now sadly bent over with the weight of the heavy, wet snow. It looks kind of pretty, even if it did wreck the nicest fall colours in recent memory.

We took advantage of the chilly day yesterday to carve pumpkins. Unfortunately one of them was kind of rotten, which meant that carving took a sudden gross turn. Normally I am the person in charge of gutting the pumpkins, and I normally save all the seeds for later roasting, but I was so disgusted by the rotting pumpkin flesh that we merely left all the seeds and goo inside. Well, they are frozen solid on our front step anyway, so what matter. Halloween is only a few days away!

They still look pretty cute though.

Do you notice anything strange about any of them? Anyone? First one to notice wins a prize. An eeeeevvvviiiillllll prize.

I Dreamed A Dream

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“Mom, do you have a dream?” Mark asked over breakfast the other day. I was only on my first cup of coffee so I wondered if he wanted to know what I dreamed about last night. I didn’t want to tell him I had a nightmare about a mouse crawling on the ceiling and then falling off into my bed, causing me to wake up with my sheets soaking wet with a freight train running through the middle of my head, or that I had a sexy dream about his father, and so I answered sort of vaguely. “No, I mean, do you have a DREAM. Like something you want.” He paused a moment, and then said quickly in a completely neutral voice “And please don’t say you want two awesome boys and wow, you already have them.” Jake chimed in, “Yeah! That’s what you always say.”

I told them that I always wanted a fluffy brown dog named Barkley, and they groaned. “Don’t you have a dream about doing something?” Mark asked. “Like, maybe making good caramel apples?”

That’s pretty rich coming from a kid whose attempt at making a bass guitar was a ripped kleenex box with a broken rubber band on it. On a related note, we had this conversation yesterday:

Mark: Guess who had the best social studies title page in the class?

Me: I’m guessing it wasn’t you.

Mark: You’re right. It wasn’t.

Jake: Me either! I suck at drawing.

Well, it’s good to have an accurate view of your strengths and weaknesses, no?

This has been a strange, very busy week. The kids had a PD day on Monday. Why, you may ask, why did they have the day off when the past Monday was Thanksgiving and why didn’t they have the PD day on the Friday before Thanksgiving the way they always do, why, why, why? Well, they did, and two four-day weeks in a row makes for a strange week. Besides, it’s the Halloween Family Dance tonight and it is, without a question of a doubt, the highlight of the school year for my kids. It’s all downhill from here, guys. I’ve been busy preparing for this as my girlfriend and I are coordinating a silent auction as a fundraiser, and in addition to the usual busyness that accompanies such an event, I’ve also been planning my costume. My friend and I are going as witches. But not like this:

Photo from partycity.com. This costume is on sale for FOURTEEN DOLLARS. A steal!


or this

Photo from partycity.com. This is the Sparkle Playboy Witch, which seems like an accurate name.

or even this.

Photo from partycity.com. Wear a good pair of panties if you wear this costume.

I’m not even sure that last one IS a witch. In any case, we will be regular mom-like witches tonight. At least for the dance…I’m thinking I might break out that $14 outfit for a little private Halloween party, if you know what I’m saying.

I kid. If I’m having a private Halloween party, I’m going to dress up like Fiona from Shrek.

Photo from partycity.com. I’m not kidding, you guys, this is Fiona from Shrek.
GO CHECK OUT THE PARTY CITY WEBSITE CLEARANCE SECTION. It’s a scream!

I love this time of year. It’s so much fun to look at costume websites and wonder just who is going to order them. They are almost always sold out of at least one size, so people ARE buying them. Clearly I don’t go to enough (or any, really) Halloween parties because I’m always amazed by the costumes. Can you imagine going to a party and seeing this?

Photo from partycity.com. This is $105!

MAYBE one might see this at a key party. Or hey, if you’re undecided this Marvin the Martian outfit is only $35!

Photo from partycity.com

Hilarious, yet kind of depressing, no? Go ahead and look at any costume website; the teen girl section is made up mostly of smaller versions of the skeezy looking women’s section. Whatever happened to getting your mom to make you a dress to look like Morticia Addams?

If I’m being totally honest, I would have totally worn some of those super short costumes when I was a teenager, if buying costumes was a thing back then and if I made more than $4/ hour working at Pizza Hut. I also would have probably given my father a heart attack, but then, that’s what teenage girls are for. Every single time my husband sees a teenage girl, he says “Somewhere, there is a dad going grey.”

What’s my excuse? Boy humour.

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The boys and I were having dinner together this evening, and the topic that dominated most of the conversation was as follows: a friend of theirs hit himself in the testicles with his own Styrofoam airplane. The hilarity involved in relaying these details to me was immense. Apparently the only funnier than someone being hit in the testicles is someone being hit in the testicles by launching their own Styrofoam airplane and having it curve in just the right way. An unintentional groin shot to oneself by one’s own efforts? Evidently hilarious.

Some days, I find it difficult to string two words together. At times, my head feels like it’s going to explode with things like the Halloween Dance, and would tahini and chocolate go together, and what am I going to make for the bake sale and when, and why can’t I get “Don’t Stop Believing” out of my head? I think my intellect is FAILING, is what I’m saying, people. I’m sure we’ve all heard, by now, of that “What’s Your Excuse?” woman, and I have two things to say: a) she looks pretty awesome, and I like to believe that she set out to be inspirational, not condemning, and b) my excuse for my rapidly fading mental capabilities is dinnertime conversations about self-inflicted groin shots, punctuated by reminders to please not fart at the dinner table. Yes, that is a valid excuse.

The kids have been working on making musical instruments out of recycled materials at school, and some of their friends have shown me the items that they chose to make: a harmonica made out of popsicle sticks and rubber bands, a drum made out of a coffee can and waxed paper. Jake decided to make a guitar, because “girls like guys who play guitars”. True that, but they also like guys who have good jobs, so get that math homework done, sweetheart. Here is Jake’s guitar in all its glory:

Not bad, even if the tape on the fret (is it a fret? I don’t really know my stringed instruments that well) is kind of coming off. No matter! It’s a decent effort.

Mark brought home his instrument too.


It is a bass guitar. Allegedly. He did not specify if there were once other parts. He did not specify whether it looked differently at some point prior to suffering some kind of fourth grade destruction. He did not specify the level of effort put into this project. In the spirit of not asking questions to which I do not necessarily want to know the answer, I am not inquiring further about it.

Full Moon, and Nicole Smash

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I think I’m becoming one of those obnoxious people who can tell when the full moon is upon us without looking at the calendar, or who can just tell that Mercury is in retrograde or what have you. So I will blame it on the full moon that yesterday I was in a bit of a rage all day. Looking back on it was like looking back on the days when I had small children. The rage was somewhat akin to when a small child spirals out of control because it’s bathtime and he just wants to take his favourite stuffed animal into the bathroom and then drops it into the tub accidentally and then it has to go into the dryer, stat, but then the child needs to be bathed and keeps drinking the bathwater, and then becomes hysterical when taken out of the bathtub, even though he didn’t want a bath in the first place, and then realizes that his favourite pajamas are in the wash and cannot be retrieved and then due to exhaustion falls over and hits his head on the floor and then is tucked into bed but the story you read was all wrong and the stuffed animal is still in the dryer and nothing will ever be right in the world again and then the child passes out after sobbing about the injustices of life.

I remember those days and in the heat of the moment, in the thick of things, there is nothing at all funny about the situation, but looking back, it’s kind of ridiculous. It’s hard to believe that a rational person could get caught up in the soaked-stuffed-animal-drama, but these things happen, don’t they? And so it is that I’m looking back on yesterday, thinking about all those little metaphorical paper cuts.

I should have known something was up – the full moon! – when I got home from yoga yesterday morning, plugged in the coffee maker, and then, for the first time in history, forgot to turn it on. I made my bed, collected my bathrobe and set out my various moisturizers, makeup, and deodorant the way I do every morning before my shower, and then I went to get a cup of coffee. People, when you get up at 4:30 in the morning, it is imperative that the coffee be made when you need it to be made. I actually picked up the empty coffee pot and was astonished that nothing came out because I forgot to turn it on. I remedied that, stepped into the shower – and this I blame on the lack of caffeine – started to wash my hair with conditioner. I kept wondering what was wrong with the shampoo. Why wasn’t the shampoo foaming? I added more and more conditioner, until I realized my mistake. It’s not the shampoo. It’s me. Suffice it to say I had very soft hair all day.

Between the hair and the coffee I felt a little thrown off for the whole morning, and so maybe, perhaps the customer service people I encountered during the day were not, in retrospect, quite so awful as I think, but maybe they were. One of my errands was to the homeopathic medicine shop.

Bear with me for a moment. I am not, I repeat, AM NOT, inviting a discussion about the flu shot here. I do not want to hear arguments for or against the flu shot, or any discussion about vaccines in general. I am merely stating a fact: I cannot get the flu shot; in lieu of this for the past four years I – and my family – get a homeopathic flu protocol that has protected us from getting the flu.

And again I will interrupt my own discourse for a moment for a public service announcement: the FLU is not the same thing as a STOMACH VIRUS even though people universally refer to STOMACH VIRUS as the STOMACH FLU or sometimes, incorrectly, as the FLU. A stomach virus is not the flu. And so when I say “the homeopathic flu protocol has protected us from getting the flu” and you say “but remember last year when you were barfing and sick and lost all that weight and then the boys got it?” NO. It is not the same thing. NOROVIRUS IS NOT THE FLU. No amount of homeopathic flu protocols or flu shots or whatever hoo-ha you may do to avoid the flu will help you avoid NOROVIRUS AND/OR OTHER STOMACH VIRUSES. Sorry for yelling, but really. Public service announcement over.

Where was I? Oh yes, I was obtaining a homeopathic flu protocol. In the past there have been two parts to this protocol, and one of those parts, apparently, has changed this year. I asked the lady at the counter, who you would think would be eager to supply information to someone who is IN the homeopathic shop and who is obviously (or obvi, as my kids say) on board with the whole homeopathic thing. The woman was, shall we say, less than forthcoming with information. I kept pressing her, “But what does this DO, specifically?” She had a bit of a frown on her face as she kept saying, sternly, “It STRENGTHENS your IMMUNITY.” Now, I am a sucker for anything that STRENGTHENS my IMMUNITY – you should see how many vitamins and supplements I take on a daily basis, hoo boy – but if I’m going to be paying $40 for a tincture, I would like a little more information about said tincture, especially since this tincture was never used before with the flu protocol. I JUST WANT TO KNOW HOW IT WORKS. I recognize that customer service people often have to deal with the lowest common denominator, but some of us CAN comprehend more difficult concepts. I feel this same way when those dreadful people come to the door trying to get natural gas customers to sign up for fixed rates, and then they get all dismissive when I say I’m not interested. I used to work in the structured products market, I’m not just some idiot of a kept woman, here, I know how hedging works thank-you-very-much. Go try your luck on the elderly.

After my extraordinarily frustrating experience at the homeopathic shop, I went to Future Shop to purchase a movie. Now, I rarely, if ever, purchase movies at actual stores, I do online shopping whenever possible. However, my husband’s birthday is coming up quickly and Jake wanted to buy his dad a superhero movie they could watch together. I didn’t have time to waste with shipping, etc., and so I headed to Future Shop, also known as The Worst Place For Customer Service Ever. First of all, I will admit to my own errors. I did not realize that the movie I wanted to buy – and yes, I do have my OWN reasons for wanting this movie in my house (Hugh Jackman) – was not yet in stores. I should have done more research. However! I walked into Future Shop, was greeted by a young man. I looked around the overwhelming store for a few minutes, wondering if the single aisle of “movies, TV shows, etc” was really all that giant store had. One aisle. Finally I approached the young man.

Me: Excuse me, I’m looking for a movie. I’m wondering if you could help me find it?

Douchey Employee: *points*

Me: Yes, I can’t find what I’m looking for. I’m not even sure if this is the right section.

DE: The movies are RIGHT THERE. That HUGE display? RIGHT THERE.

Me: *sharply* YES. I see. But I cannot find what I’m looking for. The Wolverine movie. Do you have it?

DE: The movies are right there.

Me: I DON’T SEE IT THERE.

DE: I GUESS I could look it up. *goes to computer, types in “Wolvierene* There’s no movie.

Me: *looking at the screen* I think you misspelled it.

DE: Well, how DO you spell it?

Me: W-O-L-V-E-R-I-N-E

DE: Oh. It’s not available in stores. You can pre-order it online.

Me: *sets store on fire*

Later, the day would redeem itself, but only when I picked up my calendar, counted the days, realized that it’s not just the full moon that’s affecting my mood, decided that since it was a full moon and there was no yoga the next day, I could indulge in a couple of glasses of wine, even if it WAS a Thursday. That turned things around.

Nicole’s Favourite Things – FALLing in Love Edition

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There seems to be two types of people in the world: people who have hearts in their eyes when they think about autumn, and everyone else. Me, I like autumn just fine. I’m not someone who counts down the days of summer, just waiting for pumpkin spice lattes to return or anything – I find pumpkin spice anything to be a teensy bit vile, if I’m being honest here, and while I’m at it on controversial subjects, I don’t like ANY pie but pumpkin seems to me to be the worst – but autumn and I are on good terms.

It’s been a while since I’ve done a Nicole’s Favourite Things, and so today, in honour of the season, I will tell you all about the things I love about fall. Some of these things might be products, but I am not being compensated by any company to write this post, and I received nothing for free.

With that disclaimer out of the way, and without further ado, I give you….

Nicole’s Favourite Things: FALLing in Love Edition

Thick Cozy Sweaters and Tall Boots

Much as I love spending the summer season in tank tops and skirts, there is just something so cozy about wrapping up in a big thick sweater. I love the trend towards long, flowy sweaters – they are so much more forgiving than the ones that graze your waistband and ride up, should you sit down and reveal the ravages of Thanksgiving dinner, or worse, your panties. Most of my sweaters are, of course, black, which makes mixing and matching very easy. However, this is what I’m wearing today.

It’s red! A red sweater! I feel like a big show-off – look at me in my red sweater! – but it’s all part of my gradual plan to add colour to my life. At this rate, when I’m 80 I’ll be in nothing but jewel tones. Changing the world, one sweater at a time. The above sweater is from the Gap, and I do love how they have online sales frequently, since the thought of actually going to the Gap and scrounging through piles of clothing to find the right size, and then standing in line for twenty minutes…well, it’s not appealing. Give me online shopping any day. The black cardigan is from Jacob, my all-time favourite store. Here’s a shopping hint: Jacob has killer Boxing Week deals, and yes, you can shop online. They also clear out all their sweaters in the spring, and it’s a great way to stock up on cozy (black) sweaters.

And boots! I have little ankle boots that I love, but tall boots are my favourite. As someone who is chronically cold, I like to be covered as much as possible as soon as the weather turns to “brisk” or “fresh” as they say in the fall. I wrote an entire post on boots, which I won’t repeat, but you can read it here. As an aside, every time I put on a certain pair of boots, I think of the fabulous salesman who told me I was “Puss in Boots”. It makes me stand a little taller, you know? Puss. In Boots.

Scarves

My mother-in-law quit smoking and as a result she pretty much knits all day long, which is to say I benefit from this. She knit me this scarf – which is one of six that she has made for me. I wore it today for the first time. Cozy!

Hmm. That’s not the greatest picture of it. I swear, I don’t look like Marie Antoinette in it. Or maybe I do, in which case, how fabulous. Who doesn’t like cake?

Speaking of cake…

Apples and Grapes, Oh My

My husband’s birthday is coming up and I’m going to be making this recipe, except as a layer cake, and with creamy chocolate frosting. Mmmm. What I should make for him, though, is apple crisp, since I have sixty pounds of apples and forty pounds of grapes in my cold storage room.

I brought these babies home from the Okanagan this weekend, and I have big plans. Ever since I got my food dehydrator back in March, I’ve been promising Jake that I would make grape fruit leather, come fall. The time has come. I’ve borrowed a friend’s juicer (thanks Rebecca!) and this weekend, it is going to be dehydration nation in the Boyhouse. I’m also straight up eating all the Concord grapes I can, which is leaving me with sore lips from all the acidity. But it’s worth it!

If you too have a plethora of apples, give this caramel sauce a try – or just read about the disaster that was my attempt at making caramel apples.

Decorative Gourds, Motherfucker

I cannot help it. I see a bag of cute decorative gourds in the supermarket, and I must have them. IT’S FALL, FUCKFACES. Too bad I don’t have a horn shaped bowl.

It’s not just the decorative ones, I love edible gourds as well. It’s all about pumpkin and butternut squash soups, and baked squash. Yum. My mom makes this baked butternut squash and sweet potato dish that is to die for.
Decorative gourds, though. They’re so cute! Speaking of cute…
Death of a Scarecrow
Remember my terrifying scarecrow? I opened the drapes the other morning to see this:
Carnage!
Colours
I live in a neighbourhood with mature trees that turn beautiful colours in the fall. Relatively speaking, of course. This IS Calgary, after all. We have to savour the beauty of fall while it lasts, because as of today at least half of the leaves have been blown off, revealing the bare branches that will be our landscape for the next several months. At least I got some pictures!
There you have it – my favourite things for the season. What are yours?

Mermaid flounces and acid-wash jeans. Oh my.

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Wednesday night I had a bit of a scratchy throat, which I chalked up to my School Council meeting; waking up Thursday morning feeling like I’d been run over by a bus, I realized this was not the case. I get sick so rarely that I always feel a little affronted by it, like my immune system has become a grave disappointment. On the urging of my husband, I took Advil Cold and Sinus at four hour intervals, and then spent the day either frantically typing out recipes and uploading food photos or passed out in a stupor, depending on where I was in the medication cycle. You know it’s bad when you sit down to rest a little and wake up an hour later in a puddle of drool with one side of your hair completely flattened.

I went to bed last night at 7:30 and woke up at 6:45 and while I am certainly not completely myself, I am feeling better, so that’s something. I feel like I could write some kind of medical manual: just sleep lots! And eat guacamole! You’ll feel better in no time. I probably have as much medical credentials as some of these people who purport to have all the answers in the “wellness community” but ah, I’ve already said too much. No need to start a war.

My cousin’s daughter posted photos of herself the other day, modelling dresses for her upcoming (well, in the spring) graduation from high school. I stared at the photos for a while, realizing that 1986 is now back with a vengeance. If there’s anything that makes a me feel like I’ve been around the block a few times, it’s being faced by a fashion repeat from my youth. I wondered if mermaid dresses with lots of flounce and colour are indeed back in style, and a quick search on google tells me that it’s true. All the pieces fit.



Photo from seventeen.com

 So, there’s that. Next thing you know we’ll be seeing acid wash jeans and pegged ankles…oh wait. We’re already seeing that.


Before you think I’m being all uppity and judgey based on clothing choices, here is a photo of me at my high school graduation – cropped to protect the innocent.

 

Please note the dyed-to-match clutch I am holding, also the wrist corsage. Not shown: dyed-to-match shoes. If 1986 mermaid gowns are in fashion right now, then maybe early 90s gowns should be in fashion when my middle niece graduates high school. I hope I still have this dress, maybe she’d want to have it. So shiny!

Hey, it’s Thanksgiving weekend! We should all list the things we are thankful for. I guess I’m thankful for the fact that I no longer think I’m the bee’s knees while wearing a red satin off the shoulder gown, or a light denim jacket that perfectly matches my light denim jeans. Personal growth.