Monthly Archives: May 2017

Who’s a good doggy?

Posted on by

Yesterday I was in my front yard, happily watering my gardens, when my across-the-street pulled up. I chatted with him for a few moments about the gorgeous, sunny weather and his beautifully blooming double-flowering ornamental plum tree. As he turned to go, he stopped. He had forgotten to mention, he said, that there was a coyote hanging out in our front lawn the other evening, right underneath our Mayday tree. Just thought I’d let you know! Maybe keep an eye out! he said as I stood there, stunned. There have been a lot of coyote problems lately in the city and in some of the natural, off-leash parks, but not really on my street.

Haven’t you noticed the rabbit population has gone way down lately? he asked cheerfully and, now that he mentioned it, I HAVE noticed it. Normally when I would drive to yoga at five in the morning, a number of wild rabbits would run out of the way of my car and into the small green space behind my house. Now that I think about it, that hasn’t happened in over a week.

Gah.

I’m pretty sure a lone coyote wouldn’t hop our fence to eat fat, fluffy Barkley, especially when there are any number of rabbits and, sadly and regrettably, outdoor cats around. But still. One never knows. In any case, Barkley tends to be in bed for the night around eight pm, and so he is PROBABLY fine. I looked around carefully before going outside this morning though.

Speaking of Mr Fuzzy, it’s his ninth birthday today! To his great excitement and confusion, we sang Happy Birthday to him this morning and then gave him some freeze-dried chicken, one of his favourite treats. Well, pretty much any food is his favourite treat, but I think he likes this best of all.

Who’s a good doggy? YOU’RE A GOOD DOGGY.

I’m feeling a little emotional about him being NINE, because that means a) he is heading into his Golden Years, so to speak, and b) my children have grown up with him. I always say that I could never have another dog, because Barkley is so perfect, to which my husband always responds “Never say never!” accompanied by an incredibly cute puppy picture.

Anyway. Let’s just all enjoy the time we have with our wonderful pets and NOT THINK FOR A MOMENT ABOUT THE INEVITABLE.

As mentioned earlier, we have been having absolutely beautiful weather, save for a giant wind/ rain/ and snowstorm last Wednesday. I was teaching a restorative yoga class and during breaks in the calm music, there would be the wild howl of the wind and the whipping of rain onto the windows; it was both calming to be in the warm, lovely studio, and agitating to hear the gusts. But that day seemed to be a blip, and the weekend was incredibly warm and perfect for gardening, which is what we did.

My husband, after I described to him the addition that I thought we needed to one of the front gardens, encouraged me to go out and buy plants on Saturday, and then after he trimmed the spirea in the back, he encouraged me to go out again on Sunday. Needless to say I jumped at the (unneeded) encouragement and the weekend was spent very happily digging up lawn to make room for more plants. I also finished digging out all the useless, disappointing tulip bulbs and wondered if the coyote population would perhaps help out with the squirrel population. Is that wrong? If it’s wrong, frankly, my plants and I don’t want to be right. What? It’s the Circle of Life.

No One Here Gets Out Alive

Posted on by

Today just seemed like an ordinary day, but apparently the apocalypse is upon us. How else to explain a lineup at Costco that looked like this, at 10:30 on a Wednesday morning?

There was really no other explanation. It couldn’t have been the garden centre; May long weekend is done, and in any case there were only a few carts in the long lineups snaking down the aisles that contained plants. Getting into the chilled produce section was like marrying into the mafia; there was no getting out, once you were in. Carts were jammed in the aisles with no sample tables to be blamed; it was too early for the single servings of crackers and pepperoni to be handed out. When I finally made it through the lineup, the parking lot was a whole other adventure. It was like a cross between Frogger and Grand Theft Auto, what with cart-pushing people dodging the road raging vehicles, while the rain started and the wind picked up, in accordance with the giant storm brewing.

Maybe it IS the apocalypse.

Costco shopping is the one time that I really, really wish I had a Fitbit. I would love to know if pushing a giant, heavy cart and then unloading it and climbing up and down the stairs dozens of times to put the groceries away counts as “active minutes” and if so, how many calories are burned? I’m guessing enough to enjoy a whole bottle of wine, so it’s a good thing I don’t drink on weekdays.

I recently read something about women taking on the “mental load” in the house when it comes to housework and child-care-related chores and I would say that this is true in my house. Health and Welfare is definitely my department, and I am the one who has mental lists about what kinds of things need to be done to keep the house running smoothly. This is not to say that my husband is a neanderthal-type person who does nothing; quite the opposite, really. I would say that he takes on the mental load for things that I don’t even think about and don’t care to, so I would say that domestic/ financial/ health-related/ child-related/ vehicle chores are pretty well divided. Within reason, of course, since I work part-time, and part of that part-time is from home, so naturally there are many more domestic things that fall on my plate – epic trips to Costco, for example – than on his.

One of these things is, god help me, packing for vacations. Now, this is something that is less “falls on my plate” and more “I grab the plate and run with it because I trust no one to make correct decisions.” I know! It’s terrible. It’s also terrible for me to complain that no one helps me with packing when I actively discourage people to help me with packing. What can I say, I have a system, and regrettably it is a system that I refuse to let anyone else into. I’m a dream to be married to, you better believe it.

Actually, I personally think that I AM a dream to be married to, but maybe not when it comes to being aggressively territorial with packing and then resentful about it.

Where was I going with this? We spent the weekend road-tripping to visit with my mother-in-law. The weather was beautiful, which was probably the first May long weekend in history in which that was the case. We also had a lovely dinner with friends and that, as Forrest Gump says, is all I have to say about that.

Coming to terms with the tulips.

Posted on by

Today, my normally-vigorous morning yoga practice consisted of the following: four sun salutations, a few restorative poses, and a very long savasana in which I fell asleep. I don’t know what was going on with my body this morning but I listened to it, and that is what it said to do. Who am I to argue? I always feel great after my yoga practice and today was no exception, but I obviously felt more rested than normal.

My husband reminded me that I always feel a bit overwhelmed at this time of year, and he’s right. Part of it is my innate desire to DO EVERYTHING, but at this time of year I need to add to that my innate desire to DO ALL THE GARDENING. Alas, there are only so many hours in a day. I am itching to plant things today but there is snow in tomorrow’s forecast, alas, alas, and also I have actual work to do that does not involve the flower beds.

I currently have fifty – soon to be increased to sixty-six – annuals on my deck to be planted, and I suppose my husband was correct in saying that I used the spring plant fundraiser as an excuse to buy an excessive amount of flowers, but how could I resist? I’m giving the grass the side-eye, and in the meantime, this weekend my husband and I actually did dig up a bunch of tulips to make room for new daylilies.

The flowers awaiting planting, plus a bonus shot of my husband’s many barbeques.

The tulip thing is a real drag, and I am trying not to covet my neighbours’ bulbs, but a jaunt around the neighbourhood shows nothing but gorgeous, blooming, colourful tulips with healthy, uneaten foliage. Here are what some of the remaining tulips look like:

Missing from the photo are all the holes where the squirrels have dug up the rest of the bulbs. My friend (HI NICOLE) suggested cayenne pepper, but I have heard that squirrels can transfer the pepper from the paws to the eyes and end up clawing their own eyes out. Whether or not that is true, I don’t want to chance being responsible for a scurry of eyeless squirrels. I am pretty sure the sightless squirrels would haunt me, and I don’t want that kind of bad karma.

I also would worry about Barkley getting into the cayenne, and though you would think such a smart dog (Labradoodles being one of the brightest, most trainable dogs, and that is not just me saying that, it’s fact) would avoid cayenne pepper, as he begins to gracefully enter his senior years, he has been doing a few strange things. One of those things is eating the broadleaf weeds that poke through my neighbour’s fence and on the one hand, less weeds, but on the other, regurgitated weeds on the lawn. So I just don’t want to tempt fate and end up with a spicy pup.

But I am practicing non-attachment and will likely dig out the remainder of the tulips, and the next time I find myself in Costco tempted to purchase one hundred and thirty bulbs – which is how I found myself in this mess in the first place – will one of you remind me of the repeated catastrophe that is my yard and tulips? Please?

In the meantime everything else is coming along nicely – with the exception of my clematis, which is either late or dead, I’m not sure which. I’m HOPING it’s just late because last year it was a riot of purple, but we shall see.

So I will no longer fret over the tulips. I have bigger fish to fry! Like proving my husband wrong, in that there IS room for sixty-six more annuals in our perennial-heavy, kind of crowded flower beds.

Note to self: start digging out the lawn NOW.

Swimming in a sea of flowers.

Posted on by

I just finished taking care of a fundraiser for next fall’s Grade Eight Quebec trip. Is my thirteen-year-old really going across the country without me for a week, with no contact whatsoever? Yes, he is. No phones are allowed and so I will not even have TEXTS from him. It’s like we are back in the Nineties! What’s next? Overalls and flannel? Oh, wait.

 

Images from Forever 21.

Deep breathing.

Small digression: it’s funny how the least-flattering clothing can come back into style, like we have learned nothing from the past. History is doomed to repeat itself, etcetera. The other day my husband was watching Jimmy Fallon and Giselle Bundchen was the guest, wearing very high waisted cropped pleated pants with a tucked in blouse and high heels, and even SHE didn’t look great in it. People, if Giselle doesn’t look good in an outfit, it should NOT be in mainstream fashion, because what chance do the rest of us have? But saying that, I remember clearly – from my own high school trip to Europe – wearing a very similar outfit, minus the heels. HISTORY REPEATING ITSELF.

Anyway, back to the fundraiser. It involved selling (and in my case, buying copiously) spring plants, and thank you so much to all my beautiful friends who supported it. This is, I kid you not, the first time ever I had a fundraiser in which I had to ask my friends to buy something from me. How did I make it this long without having to sell chocolates or raffle tickets or what have you? I don’t know. I do know that I was relieved to be actually selling things that people (and myself) actually wanted and could use.

I went to pick up the plants to deliver them all around the city on Wednesday, and was distressed to hear that there was an issue with the fundraising company, in that the petunias and geraniums did not arrive. I had six flats of petunias and geraniums on order, but have been assured that they will arrive on Monday.

I was quite put out at the thought of having to come back for the missing plants but in retrospect, it was quite fortuitous that they were late. As it was, my friend who was helping me take the plants to the car looked at me and asked if I was sure I was going to be able to fit them all in. My minivan was full, absolutely full, with planters and flats of vegetables and herbs. I had every square inch covered with plants, including the seats. Had the other flowers arrived, I would have had to, I don’t know, make a second trip. Quelle disaster!

So begins gardening season. My tulips might be a raggedy hot mess, but everything else is popping out of the ground, filling me with that beautiful feeling of springtime hope. Every few hours I am sending my husband all-caps texts such as THE HOSTAS ARE UP and I THINK THE CLEMATIS IS STARTING and THE MAYDAY IS IN BLOOM. The Mayday has gone from leafing out to being in full bloom within the span of a week, god help those with seasonal allergies, but I am enjoying it. The lawn needs to be mowed and I am preparing to edge the gardens, cutting out my customary extra few inches in the quest to eventually have more garden than lawn.

Side note: my husband asked how much lawn I was going to cut out this year, to which I replied austerely that as grass grows, so it needs to be trimmed back, and my annual garden edging is merely maintaining the status quo, to which he replied that I might lie to myself, but I shouldn’t lie to him.

My husband, in Betty Draper form.

I can think of no better way to spend Mother’s Day weekend than planting – and possibly tearing out more lawn to make way for omg-how-many-plants-did-I-buy number of flowers. Have a wonderful weekend everyone, and Happy Mother’s Day to all you mamas, step-mamas, aunties, and lovely women. May you celebrate however you like best! xo

In my opinion, the squirrels are evil.

Posted on by

It appears that spring has sprung, although in Calgary, that means that there will be snow flurries and freezing temperatures interspersed with beautiful, sunny days, so take advantage and carpe diem, people. Carpe diem.

Everything in my garden, except for the notoriously late hostas and the slow-moving clematis are popping their little green heads above ground. Heads? Maybe not heads. They are popping their little green SPROUTS above ground, there we go. It is immensely cheering and satisfying to see a small sea of green, and even a few purple primulas popping up. Less cheering and satisfying is the sad state of affairs that are my tulips. Between the squirrels digging up and eating the bulbs, leaving holes in the garden and broken greenery in their wake, and the rabbits chewing down the foliage, I am reminded why I once tearfully got my husband to dig out every last one of my tulips.

Many years ago, when I was a starry-eyed newlywed, I bought tons of tulip bulbs and planted them in the fall. All sorts of colours; Queen of the Night purple, creamsicle orange and white variegated, apricot, you name it, I planted it. And the lone tulips that survived squirrel digging and rabbit chewing were eventually squashed by heavy late-May snowfalls. This went on for a few years until I couldn’t take the disappointment anymore and my husband headed out with a spade, for a mass tulip opposite-of-burial.

I seemed to have forgotten all about that when I cheerfully planted more bulbs, and then was reminded last spring when the squirrels dug out and ate every single one of my crocus bulbs. Practice non-attachment, love all earth’s creatures, but goddammit, seeing yet another hole where once there was a tulip has me this close to being the kind of person who sits in a rocking chair on the deck and throws rocks and/ or shoes at the squirrels. Well, my aim is pretty poor so that may or may not be a deterrent. Perhaps I shouldn’t stop Barkley the next time he catches a squirrel and leave the body as a cautionary tale to all the squirrels, but then I would probably have a yard full of crows and magpies and hence would be too terrified to leave the house.

Living in peace with all our fellow creatures can be CHALLENGING sometimes.

Speaking of living in peace with fellow creatures, I saw the new Guardians of the Galaxy on the weekend, and it was excellent. Better than the first, in my opinion.

Side note: any time anyone in my house says “In my opinion,” someone else will immediately say “The Jedi are evil!” This, of course, comes from the worst line of dialogue ever in a movie: Revenge of the Sith, one of the scenes just before – spoiler alert, in case you have been living in a galaxy far, far away – Anakin Skywalker becomes Bob, the legless, armless, burned up man.

I just went to find that clip, and I have found, to my extreme distress, that the line is actually, “From my point of view, the Jedi are evil.” People, I am crushed. I feel like I should keep this information to myself. CAN I keep such important information to myself? CAN I just keep on keeping on?

Anyway. The movie was great; usually I fall asleep or daydream during movies that I go to with the boys, and end up missing major plot points or just becoming overwhelmingly bored, but this was not the case. It was very funny but as a warning, there is a lot of what I would call “teen boy humour” along with some bad language, so keep that in mind. For example, there is some talk of impregnation, and also “my nether regions are becoming engorged” type of commentary. You’ve been warned!

Along with the movie, my mother and I had our annual Mother’s Day pedicures, which was lovely, and then we visited with my parents this weekend. It was warm enough to take out the bikes for the first time this season, and in fact, I was wearing a t-shirt. Later my husband and I were walking the dog and I said to him, “It’s so beautiful, there’s not even any wind!” and I bet you can guess what happened after that. It was kind of educational though, as we watched the wind blow the ice down the lake. The next day was freezing and windy but as I said, it’s spring! At least it didn’t snow!

I know, I know, now I’m bracing for snow.

Mercury in retrograde plus Costco equals misery

Posted on by

If you have been feeling like things are a drag, if you’ve been feeling tired or if it seems like your plans have been constantly foiled by external factors, I have some great news for you: Mercury is in retrograde! And it ends tomorrow! All will be well soon, my friends, or as well as it can be, I suppose.

To tell the truth, I haven’t really noticed; all has been fine around here. The only thing is that last night I slept really well – I fell asleep just after nine and slept solidly until 4:10. Normally I wake up a few times in the night; often I wake up at 3 and then just doze off and on after that until I get up for the day at 4:30. I never think this affects me, other than I seem to be in a semi-coma by evening. But waking up today I felt so incredibly refreshed, so able to take on anything, that I am a little alarmed by my regular, everyday feeling.

I decided to read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, being that I am 42 and all, and I will tell you right now that I loathed it. I didn’t even finish it, and I normally soldier my way through most things. Last night, I read another ridiculous chapter and then decided that life is too short and time is too precious, and quit. Maybe that’s why I slept so well; who knows?

I am no busier than anyone else, but this week my schedule is a bit strange; filled up with a lot of one-offs. However, I really needed to go to Costco for some specific, much-consumed items that I can only get there. Side note: all my free time these days seems to be consumed by grocery shopping and laundry, the two Sisyphean tasks in my life. Anyway, this afternoon I had a small window, and though I try to avoid Costco in the afternoon, I ventured forth. Winding through the parking lot, gazing at all the carts strewn everywhere but the cart corrals, I started to regret my choices. I did manage to park, grab an orphaned cart, and shop.

People. I forgot that one of the reasons I don’t shop in the afternoon is because Costco has the sample tables out by then. I tried to deep breathe and think of it as a lesson in patience, but it is very irritating to not be able to maneuver through the aisles because of all the lineups at the sample tables. I mean, by all means, line up for ten minutes to get your free cracker, but we are not all so eager to try the new sweet potato flavour, so please let me pass. I promise I am not going to cut in line.

Not everyone dawdled however; one woman zoomed by a sample table, grabbing a tiny paper cup and sauntering off. The sample lady must have been having a DAY – and who can blame her? – because she started speaking in a very loud, passive-aggressive voice, about what exactly was in the cup. IT IS BLACK BEAN SAUCE SERVED ON BASMATI RICE AND THE SAUCE IS $3.97 A BOTTLE AND YOU CAN PICK ONE UP AT MY TABLE OR IN AISLE 103. AISLE 103!

She said this in the direction of the woman who was seemingly obliviously munching on her black bean sauce and basmati rice, and me, because I was right behind her. I smiled at the lady, nodding; although I did not have a sample it was good information to have. The black bean sauce did look good and maybe the sample people are required to give their pitch, regardless of whether the samplers stay to listen. She stared at me with daggers in her eyes. Perhaps I should have taken a sample, but at that point it seemed weird.

I do get it. The worst job I ever held was that of Beer Sample Girl, which, as you can well imagine, has its own trials. One of them was not the sales pitch because giving out beer samples means that you will have many, many people conversing with you about many things, including the beer sample itself. But I do get it.

Also: Mercury is in retrograde! Shopping at Costco is a bit seventh-circle-of-hell-like at the best of times, especially for those of us who don’t love crowds or the possibility of being crushed to death by towering items. This is not overly an exaggeration; longtime readers will remember the time I narrowly missed being crushed to death by tampon boxes at Costco. 

Okay, that was also an exaggeration. But! Moving on! Mercury in retrograde and harried Costco shoppers can take their toll on the most pleasant of souls. The cashier who checked my items through had a look on her face that exactly matched what most people probably felt like, a “Lord, deliver me from this hellhole and all the idiots inside it” kind of look.

The one exception was the girl who packed my cart. She said in a very, very enthusiastic and excited way, “Thank you SO MUCH for bringing your own bins today!” I was a bit startled by this outpouring of enthusiasm but was incredibly appreciative of her positive attitude and, frankly, amazing cart-packing skills. I mean, this was a thing of beauty. I commented on her mad skills and she shrugged cheerfully. “It’s just my job!”

Well done, Costco girl. And hold on for one more day, because things are going to change, they’re going to go your way. If you just hold on for one more day.