Nicole’s Favourite Things: July Is The Best Edition

It has been another glorious summer week; summers are so short in this city that I feel like I need to soak up every moment outside. Hence, the writing of this at 6:30 am on a Saturday morning. I realized that I started this blog in 2008 which is a decade of having a whole lot to say about not a whole lot. My friend Lynn (HI LYNN) thought that maybe us “old-school mom bloggers” should now morph into “perimenopause bloggers” which, maybe we should. Speaking of EMOTIONS, the other morning I was practicing yoga and a girl rolled out her mat beside me. She had a shirt that said “When It’s Dark Look For Stars” and I got teary-eyed. Getting emotional over a tank top is probably one of those Change of Life things that no one talks about, UNTIL NOW.

And speaking of tank tops, only ten more days until my goddamn shopping challenge is done. Then I shall buy all the emotional tank tops I want. August 1st, lululemon sees a spike in sales like never before, analysts cannot explain it. It all seemed to come out of the Calgary area.

Truthfully though, I was in the mall yesterday to choose a hostess gift, and the tea store is just down from lululemon, and I am not made of stone. I thought I would browse the store and just make a mental shopping list for The Big Day. Reader, there was nothing I wanted to buy. Either the shopping challenge has fundamentally changed me or all the current styles and colours are unappealing, or both. I was gravely disappointed. I felt like Rip van Winkle but with clothes, like the whole world has moved on to crop tops and tucking things in and I just am not prepared for that right now.

Also, why so many things with an exposed back? As I said summer is brief here, and I will enjoy this six weeks of feeling warm but come August, I will be layering up again. I do not want my back exposed; in a similar vein, I also never embraced the cold shoulder look. I am already cold enough, thank you.

This post has taken a turn for the negative; let’s get back to the point which was…

Nicole’s Favourite Things: July Is The Best Edition

Sirius XM Radio

There is a pattern in my marriage, and it goes like this: my husband has an idea of something he wants to buy for me/ our family/ our house, and I resist it with all my might. We do not NEED that, I will say. This conversation, such as it is, will go on for any length of time; weeks to years of back-and-forth. Finally my husband will break down and buy it/ install it and I will end up loving it so much so that I cannot imagine life without it. Repeat, ad infinitum. The single time that I myself had to convince my husband that we needed to buy something was when we purchased the trampoline.

I am a dream to be married to, believe me.

A small list of the items that have been purchased in this way are: Roomba, my stand mixer, my super-fancy dehydrator, the juicer, the Vitamix, my Yamaha piano, the elliptical machine, and Sonos. We have had Sonos, with Sirius XM Radio in the house for years, and my husband also has it in his car for his commute to work. I have steadfastly refused the installation of Sirius in my minivan, although mine is the vehicle that we take on long road trips, meaning that once we lose local radio stations, we end up listening to the same mix CD’s over and over. Some of those mix CD’s were made years ago and there is only so much of Gangnam Style one can listen to on one road trip. Finally my husband put Sirius in my car and people, I cannot ever go back to regular radio. I can listen to 70s soft rock without hearing commercials for Grey Power Insurance or Nurse Next Door or even My Pillow Dot Com. I already bought the damn pillow.

There’s also a Yacht Rock station, and the 80s on 8 frequently plays “on this day in 198x” countdowns. When I was driving to pick up the kids from my parents’ place, I was delayed by a big accident, and listening to the top songs of July 1986 made everything better. I had my own little karaoke party with The Greatest Love of All.

Breville Food Processor

I don’t know how long I’ve had my old Cuisinart food processor – since 2011 maybe? Or 2010? I don’t know. All I know is one day I was going to pulse some tomatoes into my guacamole and instead of pulsing the processor just kept going. It wouldn’t turn off until I unplugged it. I still used it like that for a while, plugging it in when I needed to process something, but it felt weird and dangerous. I thought I would just get another Cuisinart but my husband – who used to get Consumer Reports back in the day – had been researching it and thought I might like to try a Breville.

Oh, baby.

It was like all those years I was driving a Ford Focus, and now I have a Maserati.

It processes much better – the Cuisinart always left little chunks where the blade didn’t touch the bottom – and it is also so easy to clean! The Cuisinart had a rubber seal and lots of little crevices that were impossible to keep clean, which felt a little gross. This is my new bae. I’d make out with it if it wouldn’t slice my face to a pulp.

These Old Jeans

Thanks to Facebook memories, this photo popped up in my feed the other day.

It was from exactly ten years ago, and you might be thinking awww, what cute little guys. I am thinking that too, but I’m also thinking, hey, I’m wearing those jeans right now. Yes, these old jeans are at least a decade old – I don’t know when I bought them – and I’m still wearing them. Now that I’m looking at that photo, I realize that I still have and wear those shoes.

My god, August 1 cannot come soon enough. Although, it is a testament to how I buy things that last. No one could say that I’m a “disposable fashion” kind of girl, that’s for sure.

Dog Calendar

My mom gave me a Labradoodle calendar for Christmas, and every month features an absolutely adorable dog. Not as adorable as this one, mind you:

Look at that FACE. WHO’S A GOOD DOGGY. WHO’S THE BEST DOGGY.

But the month of July features this dog:

It puts me in mind of a 1980s glamour shot. It makes me smile every time I see it, which is good because…

Neutrogena Rapid Repair

This photo of me was taken exactly forty years ago:

I love it so much, not just because of my great fashion, but because I so clearly am thinking I will pet this sheep but I will not enjoy it and you cannot make me. My friend Janet (HI JANET) mentioned that I still make this face, which explains a lot regarding my perpetual Bitchy Resting Face. No wonder I have such an epic case of BRF, I have been working on it my whole life.

Several months ago I posted about my favourite Growing Old Gracefully things, and one of those things was Neutrogena Rapid Repair Night Cream. My friend Liv (HI LIV) mentioned that she uses the one that is SPF 30 and meant for day use. Liv has perfect skin so I thought I would try it as well, and people, my skin has never looked better. It is truly amazing. I still, of course, have BRF – no amount of retinol is going to reverse 43 years worth of that face. Nothing, short of massive plastic surgery, is going to do that. But it’s a fantastic cream and I highly recommend it. I also recommend looking at glamour dog shots frequently to keep smiling, keep shining.

That’s also my favourite sunscreen, for the six weeks of high UV index that we get per summer.

So that’s that. What are you loving this July, tell me everything. xo

We’re all going to die

Every morning when I drive home from my yoga practice, I see a sign that would be a balm for weary travelers. Travelodge: Your Room Is Waiting For You. What a nice slogan! Alas, it is meaningless, since the motel was demolished months ago, and now the sign advertises for an empty lot. It feels like there is some kind of symbolism there but I just cannot seem to make the leap.

Today I heard that the house featured on The Brady Bunch is up for sale in Los Angeles, and also that it is “one of the most photographed homes in America, with 30-50 visitors every day.” I guess we all have different interests, and the world is a rich tapestry, but still, that number surprises me. I am surprised that anyone at all visits it, but I must remind myself not to be close-minded. After all, I am a person who has a strong desire to see the Jungle Room at Graceland, and also the stained-glass peacocks.

Also, I do not think I have seen even one episode of The Brady Bunch.

We have been having such a beautiful summer, with great weather and lots of sunshine. I was writing down the date for one of my class sign-ins, and I had a small crisis when I realized that July was more than half over. The days are long but the years are short is something people say when you are home with little kids, but now it just seems like life moves pretty fast, if you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it. (Thank you Ferris Bueller).

Speaking of life moving fast, I just finished reading this book:

This is a very silly title. We all have 100% chance of death; P=1. WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE.

Semantics, yes. But of course, the book isn’t about living eternally, or even Yoda-like, it’s about using nutrition to assist in the staving-off of premature-death-causing diseases. It is a very interesting book and written in a fairly compelling way, and for some of us who have been following plant-based diets for years, it’s a bit like preaching to the choir. I will say this though: the alarmist use of non-statistics is my least favourite part of the book, and that makes up a large part of this book. It’s quite misleading, and I say this even as a person who is plant-based. Statements like studies show that even one serving of egg per week can increase your chance of x disease by 30% are very misleading if you do not tell the reader what the original chance of x disease is. For example, if your current risk of, say, kidney cancer is 2%, and you increase your chance by 30%, then your new risk is 2.6%. Maybe it is the econometrician in me, but that kind of statement makes me crazy. Most people, I am sorry to say, do not have a particularly good understanding of statistics, and this kind of writing does not help. AND I AM SOMEONE WHO AGREES WITH THE WHOLE PREMISE OF THE BOOK.

The premise is decent, and I think that no matter if you eat an egg serving a week or not, we could all stand to increase our intake of fruits and vegetables, plant-based proteins, and flaxseed. My god, the author of this book is obsessed with flaxseed – that, and turmeric – so much so that you might wonder if he was being paid by Big Flaxseed. Or Big Turmeric. Well, I like and consume both of those things, so I guess I’m okay.

We go through a lot of fruit and vegetables in this house. I love vegetables and I have a big appetite for them; I personally can eat an entire head-and-a-half of roasted cauliflower at one sitting, and I do this weekly. I have been known to consume a full head of kale at a time, and once when I was preparing Sunday dinner my husband came into the kitchen and stared at me.

Mr: Nicole, no. NO. This is insane. No one can eat that much asparagus!

Me: Hold my purse.

All of which is to say that I eat a lot of produce personally, and so does the rest of my family. However, even for me reading the recommendations for the “Daily Dozen” was overwhelming. Like, I just don’t think I can fit all those things into my life. How much flaxseed can one person eat?

Well, as I said, it’s a good premise and eating more whole foods, fruits, and veggies are better than eating highly processed things of dubious nutritional value, if you can. It reminded me that I wanted to tell you about my favourite green smoothie, which is a really good way to get more leafy greens into your diet, if that’s something of interest.

Nicole’s Favourite Green Smoothie

I have one of these every single day, except when I am out of town and have no access to a blender. I usually have this at lunch, but I think most people would enjoy it more as a breakfast food. I, however, tend to have very little time for lunch, so this fits the bill. I use eight cups of spinach for this recipe, but I don’t recommend anyone new to green smoothies starting with that. Maybe start with ONE cup, then work your way up.

Someone once said to me, in a very unkind way, that they do not enjoy smoothies because they are not infants and prefer to chew their food. Hey, I like chewing food just fine. However, I usually have 10-15 minutes to eat lunch, and I just don’t think I could eat 8 cups of spinach in that amount of time. Plus, I LIKE this smoothie. I can chew food at the two other meals in a day. My jaw is not atrophying, believe me.

Anyway, here is the recipe!

8 cups baby spinach (this is a lot of spinach! I’m like Popeye. Start small and work your way up, or you will be completely grossed out.)

1 cup almond milk

2 tablespoons almond butter

1 frozen banana

a whole lot of cinnamon

The ingredients! Do NOT give me a hard time about the tetra-pak almond milk. Maybe when I have a lot more time in my life, I will make my own almond milk, but today is not that day. Note the red moose in the background – my older son made that in Industrial Arts class. It poops out gumballs! Although we have no gumballs so this is theoretical.

I’m strong to the finish ’cause I eats me spinach, I’m Popeye the Sailor Man.

Almond butter = food of the gods.

Mmmm. Liquified spinach. So, first blend the spinach with the almond milk and butter. THEN add the banana and cinnamon. Trust me on this. GET THE SPINACH BLENDED FIRST OR ALL WILL BE ASHES. I keep bananas individually frozen for this purpose, and I always break the banana into pieces before freezing. You don’t want to not do this, unless you want a blender tragedy, or even just unblended chunks of banana.

I have no idea how much cinnamon I add. I just shake it on until the top of the liquid is all covered, thickly. I like a lot of cinnamon. Hey, it’s anti-inflammatory!

This may not look appealing to you but it’s making me hungry.

So there you go! Even though every day we are one day nearer to dying, and I am on that slow journey to death just like everyone else, I swear that these green smoothies make me more energetic and healthy. Are you also a green smoothie lover? If you try this, let me know, I’m DYING to know what you think. Dying. Ha! xo

Unmoored

The boys have been visiting my parents this week, and I don’t mind telling you that I have spent this week feeling greatly unmoored, particularly yesterday. I had no classes to teach yesterday and it was a moon day, which meant no early morning yoga either. I spent a few hours just wandering around the house, drinking coffee and looking at social media, until I decided that I should probably go to spin class, if for no other reason then to get out of the house at a specific time.

From all accounts, the boys have been having an Epic Week, which is to be expected when visiting indulgent grandparents who live on a lake with access to every kind of fun thing you can imagine. During last night’s phone call, they informed my husband that yesterday they a) went mini-golfing, b) went to the Aquasplash, c) had ice cream at the local parlor, and d) went for dinner at a restaurant specializing in chicken wings. If there could be anything better for young teen boys, I do not know what it could be.

After class today I am heading up there myself, and am crossing my fingers that the extreme thunderstorms will hold off for a few hours after I get there, so I can also have some fun in the sun. It’s been beautiful and hot here, the garden is in full bloom with riotous colours, life is good.

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I recently read one of the best books I have EVER read, and that is really saying something. It’s called The Women In The Castle, and a student had recommended it to me a month or so ago. The description seemed pretty meh, to be honest, and I had just finished a bunch of very depressing reads. For those interested in depressing reads: Nearly Normal, which deals with the most dysfunctional childhood you can imagine, living off the grid for years with her clinically insane grandfather, then squatting in abandoned places with her mother while her mother has sex with near-strangers right beside her, and as much drug use as you might expect for such a story, in the 1970s. After that was Educated, another crazy dysfunctional childhood with an absolutely nutjob set of parents. Both of these books are testaments to human resiliency but honest to god, they are also so sad. Finally, I read Diana: Her Story and I have much to say about that, but will save it for later. Shortly thereafter, I got around to reading Lilac Girls, which my mother had lent me and which deals with Nazi experimentation on Polish women in a concentration camp, which pretty much finished me off, mentally. I considered reading the Sweet Valley High box set I had found as a countermeasure, but I had a few library books come in.

So I had mentioned in a class that I had read these depressing books and needed a pick-me-up, and a student came up to me after class and recommended The Women In The Castle. I dutifully put it on my library hold list, but it a) deals with Nazi Germany, and b) I wasn’t sure that it sounded like an uplifting, life-affirming book. When it came into the library I reluctantly started it, and then found I couldn’t put it down. What a wonderful, incredible, thought-provoking book. Believe me when I say you will not regret reading this, even if you are not a fan of historical fiction.

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Speaking of historical fiction, I was thinking about the movie Forrest Gump yesterday. It’s been 24 years since that movie came out; I loved it then and I still love it now. The other day I came across this question: what’s your favourite little moment in a big movie? We all know I’ll have what she’s having, but what about Don’t fuck with Mr. Zero and Someone is staring at you in Personal Growth? Those are perfect moments in a perfect movie. Actually, When Harry Met Sally is full of perfect moments. However, if I have to choose one small scene in a big movie, I would have to go with this one in Forrest Gump: when Forrest finds himself listening to a Black Panther talk about the war in Vietnam, and he is watching Jenny’s boyfriend yelling at Jenny from across the room. The douchebag smacks her and Forrest goes mental, all the while Hey Joe is playing to a crescendo. That, in my opinion, is a scene of perfection.

There’s another small moment prior to that, when Jenny introduces her gross boyfriend to Forrest, who is all dressed up and decorated in his uniform. The boyfriend says “Who’s the baby-killer?” and it occurred to me yesterday, that guy would fit in perfectly on twitter.

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Just now, I looked at twitter. There was a recipe, and I am not joking here, for Red Velvet Corn Dogs. I thought for certain that it must be a mistake, or maybe one of those cutesy recipes in which a cupcake is shaped like a corn dog but no. No. The recipe calls for, among other things, red velvet cake mix and a 10-count package of hot dogs, so the apocalypse is officially on us. Also, 2 quarts of canola oil, for frying. “Enjoy with your favourite dipping sauce!” is the note that the recipe cheerfully ends on. Enjoy. With your favourite dipping sauce.

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A few weeks ago, I was in the baking section of my beloved local Co-Op when I saw this:

Whoops! I know that, come fall, everything will be pumpkin spice this and pumpkin spice that, but this is a bridge too far, in my mind. Perhaps the Red Velvet Corn Dog people might find this useful and inspiring. Mark my words, we shall soon see Pumpkin Spice Refried Bean Pie, if this is any indication.

Hopes and Dreams, Flushed.

In this day and age of click-bait, article headlines can be very misleading. Ten fashion mistakes that are aging! Six tips to make life better – you won’t believe number three! This woman switched lemon water for coffee and you won’t believe what happened (murder). 

It’s refreshing, then to come across an article that is perfectly summarized by the headline such as this one on the CBC website:

There are just so many things to say. One small detail though: it may be summer, and the rest of the country might be sweltering in a heat wave, but this earlier this week I had to turn on the furnace, so being naked in that weather seems like a poor choice. Well, that and possible theft of a Canada Post vehicle.

In any case, perhaps Canada Post vehicles are equipped with seat warmers. That is one image that I do not want to dwell on, so let’s move on.

The weather has turned now – just in time for Stampede, and if I may, let me direct you to my archived posts about dressing for the event, plus a shot of my rarely worn cowboy boots – and so yesterday we went to the local amusement park. It is our tradition to go on the first day of summer vacation, but that week was so weirdly set up, and also the weather was, shall we say, poor. For Canada Day weekend we were at my parents’ place at the lake – another tradition – and it was lovely, lots of fun, but the weather kiboshed some of our plans. We put the paddleboards in for the 2018 inaugural paddle, and had been in only twenty minutes before the rain – followed by hail – started.

Anyway, yesterday was a perfect day for the amusement park, and my friend (HI TARYN) came along with us which was a nice bonus for me. She captured my feelings about bumper cars perfectly in this shot:

GAME ON, you little fuckers.

Here I am, trash talking my own son.

My friend and I spent some time discussing something I’ve thought of often: how insane will the employees be by the end of the summer, saying the exact same thing every few minutes, only to be completely disregarded by patrons of the park? I have wondered this about Disney and Universal employees before as well – how many times a day can a person say “No running in the ride area” before they completely lose their reason? I mean, I say “watch your knees” about a hundred times a week, but it seems different somehow.

I was wondering about the bumper cars employees in particular, because no matter what they say, the rules are always completely disregarded. First, there is a great deal of signage all over the ride and lineup that states that no child under a certain height will be allowed to ride under any circumstances. The bumper cars have no seatbelts, and I imagine a small child could literally be tossed out of the car with a particularly boisterous bump. And yet. And yet every single time there is a parent with a tiny child who looks COMPLETELY SURPRISED and taken aback when the employee tells them the child cannot ride.

Second, the rule is that all cars need to drive in a clockwise fashion, in order to eliminate head-on collisions and, presumably, lawsuits. Every single time there is at least one park patron going in the wrong direction, ostensibly to cause head-on collisions. Every single time. Once, last year, the employee actually STOPPED the ride and refused to start it again until the appropriate direction was taken. Clearly the breaking point was reached for that fellow, like Michael Douglas in Falling Down.

Perhaps the signage in the ladies’ washroom was meant for the employees of the park:

You cannot flush hopes and dreams, people. Even if you find yourself in a terrible summer job where no one listens to you. The key, I think, is probably to just stop caring.

Oh, summer jobs. I was talking with some friends about the worst summer jobs we ever had and mine, hands down, was the summer that I was a beer sample girl. If you want to be harassed for your entire shift, ad infinitum, this is the job for you! I finally quit when the company got a Busch beer contract and I was required to wear a bathing suit to work. I mean, I got hassled enough wearing clothes; I could not feature what would happen if I was standing there, in a chilly room, wearing nothing but a swimsuit and heels. Even Miss America doesn’t do that anymore.