Monthly Archives: April 2022

Move Over, Sansa; 110 Weeks In

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It was only a few weeks ago that I was marvelling at all the Christmas decorations in the neighbourhood; lights and Santas and candy canes alongside the brown grass and spring bulbs. It turns out my neighbours know what’s what.

Santa’s coming! In only eight months.

Oh, you guys, we got so much snow this week; it really felt relentless. It was the kind of heavy, soft, wet snow that causes chaos on the streets and possibly heart attacks for shovellers. I went to the grocery store and passed a school bus, completely stuck in the snow, with a couple of kids inside as the driver tried to make her way out of her predicament, but only became more and more stuck. Let me tell you, as someone who has had her car stuck in the snow more than once, I felt for this driver. She kept doing the thing that feels instinctive but is the exact thing that you should absolutely not do, gunning the engine. She kept doing this, the wheels spinning and the bus becoming settled deeper into the snow. Who among us, right? Except that most of us are not doing this in a school bus with children inside. I really emphasized; if I were that driver, I would be a sobbing mess.

That wasn’t the only bus with such issues. My kids told me that there were many absences at their school, probably due to transit issues, and when they went to buy lunch, the Subway shop was closed, probably due to no employees making it to work.

Friluftsliv, right? I went for my walk and discovered that the walking paths were – not surprisingly – unplowed, but I stoically decided to soldier on. Do you want a good leg workout? Wade through eight inches of thick, heavy, wet snow.

Me: It’s just snow, it’s so pretty, it will be fun! Nature! Also me, ten minutes later: My god, what am I doing with my life.

The weather, obviously, was not conducive to outdoor running, so as the first few snowflakes fell on Friday morning, for the fourth day that week, I decided to go to the gym. This was my scene when I got home.

Do I live in Winterfell now? Am I the Queen of the North?

Did you ever watch Game of Thrones? What a crazy show that was, and how disappointing was that ending? Given the show’s general theme, I just assumed that it would end, Sopranos-style, with a blackout and everyone dying, perhaps with the world blowing up. I did not expect such a neat little package tied up with ribbons.

Back when I was watching it, I never knew what was happening. Half the time it was too violent for me to watch and so I’d cover my eyes or leave the room, and the other half, well, I just didn’t know what was going on. I mean, it is a fairly complicated show with so many characters and backstories, and so I was constantly texting my friend Hannah (HI HANNAH) with questions every thirty seconds. Who is this guy? What is with all the horses? Where did they come from. OH MY GOD HANNAH WHAT DID THEY JUST DO TO THIS GUY. Oh, he was bad? Wait, he’s the guy that raped all those women? Oh. Wait, who’s THIS guy and why can’t anyone kill him? Oh, he’s immortal. Hannah deserves a medal for patience with me – “No spoilers but, um, don’t get too attached to that character, Nicole.” – and maybe one for valor. (Wait, how did he get killed? They skinned him alive? Oh.)

One thing about a snowy, grey day is that it motivates me to get things done around the house; on Tuesday I had several phone calls to make and appointments to arrange, none of which I wanted to do, but I decided to JUST GET IT ALL DONE. What is it about making appointments that makes a person want to lie in the fetal position and cry? And yet. I was, in my humble opinion, a BOSS. I started with a phone call to the orthodontist to arrange for a new retainer for my younger son; the only time I could get in conflicted with my sons’ previously scheduled doctor appointments. No matter! A broken retainer trumps an annual checkup. I phoned the doctor and rescheduled, then, feeling like I was on a roll, made eye appointments and ordered extra contacts for my son, and then called our insurance company about some changes to our auto insurance. I felt like I was ON FIRE, checking off everything on my list.

Speaking of appointments, last Friday the boys had dental appointments, and two weeks ago I had called to confirm them. Remember my dentist and the plethora of reminders? Well, I had an email reminder AND a text reminder for one son, but not the other, so I called to confirm, to make sure they both had appointments at the same time. Perfect, everything was in order. That was fine until this week: the dentist emailed me, texted me, and – when I did not respond within ten minutes – PHONED ME to confirm Friday’s appointment. I assured them that the boys would be there as scheduled, but also? I had already confirmed two weeks ago? “Oh,” the woman on the phone said, “This wasn’t marked as confirmed.” At this point, I had, in a two week span, two emails, two texts, and a phone call, and apparently so had my husband.

I discovered that little nugget of information on the day of the appointment. I had another text, another email, AND my husband called me to say “Do the boys have a dentist appointment today? I keep getting emails.” OH MY GOD, DENTAL OFFICE. WE WILL BE THERE. Listen, I realize that people forget their appointments, the dental people have a job to do, but no one in this household has ever been late or forgotten a dental appointment. Is there no way to NOT send a dozen reminders to the households who have never been late or forgotten an appointment? No, I know there isn’t. I know there is no way but I WISH THERE WAS A WAY.

I also wish the snow would melt so I could do some work in the yard and garden, and I might just get that wish this week. Do other people constantly refresh their weather app in the hopes that it will yield a favourable forecast, or is it just me?

Pandemic Reading

No Presents Please. I really thought I would like this a lot more than I did. This is a collection of short stories, set in Mumbai, about everyday people with their everyday lives. This is normally one hundred percent my jam, and I did like some of the stories, but mostly I found them dull and unnecessarily convoluted.

What If This Were Enough. This collection of essays – about living in the present, about eschewing consumer culture, about living mindfully and fully – is thoughtful, intelligent, and nuanced. I agree almost totally with the sentiments – ALMOST, not totally, do NOT throw shade at Marie Kondo, not in my hearing – but I can’t help but feel I would have enjoyed it more if I had read it when it was published in 2018. The pandemic and age has changed my perspective, so it didn’t TOTALLY resonate with me. Most of it did, but there was a little part in me that internally rolled me eyes at times. Am I becoming a cynic in my middle age? I hope not.

The Secrets Between Us. This is the sequel to The Spaces Between Us, which I loved loved loved and raved about previously. It is a very satisfying sequel, and I was so happy to read the two so close together. It deals with women and their lot in life, friendship, hardship, choices, and connection. I didn’t love it as much as the first one, but I did love it.

I just refreshed my weather app, again, and it looks like – maybe? – it is not going to snow this week! We shall see. Have a lovely week, my friends! xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The 47th Birthday Edition

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I have been learning Spanish via the Duolingo app, thanks to the encouragement of my younger son, who is using that app to learn Japanese. My goal is to become semi-conversational, and I was practicing phrases the other morning when everyone was in and out of the kitchen, making their breakfasts and getting ready for the day ahead. Imagine, if you will, a perky, I’ve-Been-Awake-For-Hours Nicole, trying out Spanish phrases on her Just-Woke-Up-Don’t-Talk-To-Me family. “Tu quiero un jugo de naranja?” I said to my older son as he, bleary-eyed, poured himself some orange juice. “Yo bebo cafe!” I said happily. “Tu quiero el pan?” I asked my husband as he opened the fridge to grab the rye bread. He looked at me blankly and then said “Si, senorita.”

Oooh, senorita! Is he trying to court me? My son asked what was the difference anyway, between senorita and senora, which led me into a long diatribe about the world in which we live in, where men go their whole lives being senors or sirs, and women get demarcated into ma’ams or senoras at a certain age to indicate their mature status, at which point he said, “Well, you’re always talking about how GREAT aging is and how AMAZING it is to get old, and how you’re so LUCKY to be able to be old, so you should be really be excited to be a senora.” Then he raised his eyebrows, with a half-smile, in the way someone would while laying down a royal flush, just before scooping a huge pile of chips towards them.

Well, he’s right. And today is my birthday! If you know me at all you know a) I love birthdays, b) I think everyone should be treated like a queen or similar on their birthday, and c) I especially love MY birthday. Although I’ve been married to one for over twenty years, I don’t really understand people who go about their birthday like it’s just another day, and are completely quiet on the subject. If it were socially acceptable to walk around with a tiara and a sandwich board proclaiming It’s My Birthday, I would. Alas, it isn’t.

But it’s my blog and I Do What I Want. It’s a Thursday, which may not be the Prime Day for a birthday, but means I can really spread out the celebration over two weekends. It also means that I can give you a Nicole’s Favourite Things!

I don’t know about you, but the number 47 is one that I use conversationally in a hyperbolic way to indicate something that is scrambled or chaotic: I feel like I’m being pulled in 47 different directions, I have 47 different things on my plate right now, all I wanted was a coffee and there were 47 things on the menu and none of them were coffee. Do I feel, on my 47th birthday, like I’m scrambled or chaotic? Not really, but I thought it would be fun to list out 47 things I love on my 47th birthday.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The 47th Birthday Edition

  • Coffee coffee coffee.
  • Early morning yoga in a silent, sleeping house.
  • Watching the night sky lighten into dawn.
  • Sunrises.
  • Holding my breath as I put away my thick, heavy, cute sweaters and take out my lighter, spring-weight cute sweaters.
  • At-home hair colour.
  • Books books books.
  • The library! I love you, library. You are so good at sharing.
  • Having teenage boys and all the great conversations that we have, including but not limited to: The Girl From Ipanema is a stalker song, how Shakespeare lacked originality in naming characters in Macbeth, and Brezhnev’s eyebrows.
  • CAKE! All kinds, but especially BIRTHDAY cake!
  • Red red wine, you make me feel so fine, even if you give me hot flashes. It’s worth it!
  • Dr. Jen Gunter and The Menopause Manifesto, for normalizing things like hot flashes.
  • Sunday morning walks with my Shmoopy.
  • My Garmin watch, which praises me for moving. Thanks, Garmin, I DO deserve a “mic drop” for getting my steps in.
  • Friends I get to see in real life, even if it’s not often, and friends I never get to see in real life, but connect with often.
  • My chosen sisters – you know who you are!
  • Visiting my parents at the lake.
  • Wrinkle cream and serums! God bless.
  • Mascara!
  • Lipstick and lip gloss for those times I don’t need a mask. Is there anything more transformative and life-affirming than a good lip colour?
  • Yoga pants.
  • Yoga pants that look like regular pants – it’s sorcery!
  • Greek salad and hummus on Friday nights.
  • My piano.
  • Spotify, what an age we live in that I can just listen to whatever I want whenever I want ALL THE DAMN TIME, even when it’s something completely random.
  • Podcasts! Especially Gen X This Is Why, By The Book, Jiffy Pop Culture, and We Didn’t Start The Fire – my current favourites.
  • Modern medicine: thank you, modern medicine, for being awesome and saving lives.
  • Little green shoots in my garden, that are currently under a thick blanket of snow, but I know they are there!
  • Barkley! My puppers.
  • My home gym, specifically my Peloton, and, even more specifically, Leanne Hainsby’s classes. I was saving her latest Disco Ride for this morning, and – this has never happened before – it disappeared. DISAPPEARED. I wanted disco, so I did an old Disco Ride, which was great, and I was number one on the leaderboard (out of one, that’s how old the ride was). Still, I will be singing Ring My Bell all day today.
  • Popcorn. It was back at Superstore, and I may or may not have completely stocked up and I may or may not look like I’m hoarding popcorn.
  • Berry season! Bring on the berries!
  • Salvadore, my garden gnome, who is not yet in the garden but has been moved every night after I go to bed. It’s like my own, non-holiday version of Elf in the Shelf.
  • Puzzles, but not ones that are too challenging.
  • Desiderata, which belonged to my grandma and has meant something special to me since I was a kid, and now hangs, reframed, beside my piano. I read it every day.
  • My yoga students; past and current. I love them all. One of them brought me peppermint bars today!
  • Mint chocolate; whoever first put that combination together deserves accolades.
  • Nuts; every day I am grateful there are no nut allergies in our house.
  • Speaking of nuts, peanut butter and chocolate. Now there’s a delicious combination.
  • Memories of long-ago spring break beach vacations, and dreams of future ones. There are going to be future ones, right?
  • Cutting into the perfect avocado.
  • Sunshine and mild spring temperatures, hopefully they are coming.
  • Running in the fresh air.
  • Our proximity to the Rocky Mountains and my ability to hike in those mountains.
  • Cute pajamas.
  • Green smoothies, every day.
  • All of my wonderful blog friends. Some of you have been with me since 2008, some of you are more recent friends, and I appreciate each and every one of you. Thank you for being here, thank you for taking this journey with me. We are better together. xo

Rituals; 109 Weeks In

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I was listening to this fantastic, new-to-me-but-well-established podcast the other day, about the importance of ritual and soulful practices in our everyday life. It got me thinking about all the little rituals I incorporate into my day, from my coffee-and-early-morning reading and writing to putting on my five different moisturizers before bedtime. Some of the little rituals came about because of the pandemic: daily inspirational reading and poetry before my morning yoga practice and my long daily walks are the two most notable ones. However, some rituals predate the pandemic by a long shot, and one of those is Sunday Dinner.

We eat dinner as a family every night, with the exception of the evenings when my younger son is at wrestling practice; those nights, it is just the three of us, and I save him a plate for when he’s home at 8:30 pm. Sunday Dinner is a different thing, though. It’s a big, semi-elaborate meal that always ends in dessert.

I cook a lot; it feels like half my life is devoted to food acquisition, preparation, and the cleanup afterwards. It can be very boring and tedious; this is why I listen to so many podcasts. But there is one thing I am never bored of, and that is making Sunday dessert. Throughout the week I bake a lot of things and I make a lot of ice cream, but I don’t partake in any of those; Sunday dessert, however, is my jam. I think about different recipes and I always get excited, choosing and then making the Dessert of the Week.

This past weekend was really fun for me, though, because we went up to my parents’ house for two nights. Not only did I not cook for two days, I also had my favourite dessert:

My birthday is coming up this week, so we had a combined birthday/ Easter celebration.

Not only did we have a wonderful dinner made by my mother with my favourite strawberry angel food cake, but we went out to dinner in an actual restaurant, we played a lot of games, drank a lot of wine, and my mom and I went shopping.

I have been searching for the perfect garden gnome for my entire life, and this fellow was the first thing I saw at Merry’s Mercantile, and I love him so much. His name is Salvadore.

Side note: longtime Calgary bloggers may remember Merry as Merry About Town or Merry With Children! She has the cutest little store in Bentley, and if you are ever in Central Alberta, you must go. You must! I saw this and I did not buy it, which I regret deeply.

Regrets about mug non-purchases aside, it was a nice finish to what was a really cold, grey, snowy week. On Wednesday I was getting groceries and the parking lot was so cold and windy that I checked my weather app.

Feels like minus 18! No wonder I was cold. Luckily the weather is supposed to turn warm and more “seasonal” this week; I feel like the whole city was starting to slip into depression, what with the return of winter.

Back to the topic of groceries, there are supply chain issues that are AFFECTING MY POPCORN PURCHASES. Boom Chicka Pop has gone from just my favourite light kettle corn being unavailable to being all flavours being completely unavailable. And – AND – there was also no Skinny Pop popcorn, my second choice, which feels like a Punishment From The Universe for buying something with such a stupid name. What’s next, am I going to be forced (“forced”) to buy Lesser Evil popcorn, just because I publicly announced I would not support a company that assigns moral values to food? Or will that start a chain reaction of more popcorn emergencies? I’m in a vicious circle of my own making. The snake is eating its own tail!

Sure, I could make my own popcorn. I do own all the appropriate accoutrements. But I don’t want to. I look forward to opening a bag of popcorn on Friday night and not doing anything else; I don’t WANT to pop my own popcorn, like a Luddite. Is a bag of popcorn too much to ask for?

Pandemic Reading

Girls Lost. I really appreciated the quality of the writing and the creativity of this book. This author is renowned and award-winning, and I loved the Swedish setting. It’s a really unique concept and English classes everywhere could have a field day with the symbolism of a meat-eating flower whose nectar turns girls into boys; the theme of toxic masculinity and violence is strong. However, I didn’t really love the book as a whole, as magic and fantasy are not to my taste. If they are to your taste, though, I think you might love this.

The Space Between Us. Wow, just wow. This is one of the best books I’ve read in a long time, perhaps ever. There’s just so much in here, I hardly even know where to begin. This is a story of two women; one is the house servant to the other. It’s a story about intertwined lives, about class differences, about the incredible burden of being a woman, about how pain is universal, about poverty and literacy and education and the lack thereof. It’s set in Bombay but honestly, the lessons are for everyone, all over the world. It’s an incredibly written book, with so much beauty and sadness. I was distraught and uplifted and so sad to finish this. It is the first book I have read by this author; I have had one of her books on hold for a few months now, and I just put everything she’s ever written on hold. I cannot say enough about this book and how it touched me.

How To Be A Grown-Up. I picked this up on a whim since the authors wrote The Nanny Diaries, which I really enjoyed back in the day. This book is okay; it deals with a woman going through a separation from literally one of the worst non-physically abusive character you can imagine. I mean, this guy is a complete loser of a child-man. So I found it hard to get into the story as I was so constantly incensed by what a jerk this guy was, and how he reminded me of someone I know who is also involved in a divorce from someone I know, and I am not going to put any more details than that but THOSE OF YOU WHO KNOW ME WELL KNOW WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT. I guess I found it triggering? Anyway, it’s fine, this book is fine, I liked it fine, everything is fine. Parts of it are really, really funny and parts of it are astonishingly distressing.

I am very much looking forward to this week, and not just because it’s my birthday; I am anxiously awaiting the arrival of milder weather so I can find a spot for Salvadore to live. I hope you have a beautiful week, my friends. xo

Signs of Spring; 108 Weeks In

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There are a really surprising number of houses with Christmas decorations in my neighbourhood. Depending on the snow and cold, it is not unusual to see lights up throughout January, and perhaps even to February, but now it’s April 11, we haven’t had significant snow or really frigid temperatures for a long while, and some people are still feeling merry. It’s not just lights on houses; there are a few candy cane lanes still up, and even the occasional snowman. It makes me smile, seeing the juxtaposition of Santa with the emergence of spring bulbs.

One of my favourite houses on my walk route, has, after a winter hiatus, reinstated its extensive gnome collection and garden tchotchkes in its front yard. Those happy little gnomes, bumblebees, and animals are a Sign of Spring, to be sure.

It’s been Calgary Spring Weather around here: chilly and windy days, mixed in with the occasional gorgeous warm day and sporadic snowfalls. Last week I saw my first shirtless runner of the year; another Sign of Spring! One can spot runners in shorts any month of the year in Calgary; as long as it’s sunny there will be a runner with purple legs and probably painful knees dashing down the paths, even in temperatures well below zero. But a shirtless runner! It’s like spotting the first robin of the year.

Speaking of running, I have restarted my running routine. I am very much a fair-weather outdoor runner; I will not run when the paths are icy, and I will not run in below zero temperatures. I will walk in any weather, in any and all terrible conditions, but running? NO SIR. Typically, in the winter, I use the treadmill at the gym, but over the last two years for some reason, I just don’t know why, I have not. I actually was using the treadmill up until early December 2021 – my club required all adult members to be vaccinated to use the facilities – but at that point I just did not feel comfortable taking off my mask and breathing heavily in the presence of other people taking of their masks and breathing heavily. Or breathing at all. In any case, I took a little hiatus, using the cardio equipment in the comfort of my own home, and I am happy to report my reentry into the running world has been completely smooth and painless.

It’s not like I was concerned that my Olympic dreams would be crushed or anything, taking off a few months, but I did wonder how it would feel, getting back into it. I am not getting any younger, people. I practiced non-attachment by not looking at my Garmin until the end of the run – pretty easy to do when it’s 1 degree Celsius and I had my thumbholes and gloves on – I wanted to just run by feel. Do numbers matter? No, they do not. Still, I was pleasantly surprised to see that my time was only one minute slower, total, on six kilometres, as compared to when I started my hiatus. By my third run, I was basically back to my old pace, but this week looks like my run days will be below zero for the daily high temperature, so perhaps I am back to cross-training for a few days. I suppose I could go to the fitness centre and use the treadmill, but honestly, I don’t want to, and joyful movement is all about doing what I want to do when I want to do it. Right?

Barkley went in for his spring grooming; every April I feel like we could enter him into some kind of Extreme Makeover contest, because he looks like a completely different dog. For one thing, after a winter of Extreme Fuzziness, he seems to lose about ten percent of his body weight JUST with a haircut. For at least a week after his grooming, we all marvel at how small he is, relatively speaking, underneath all that fur. He’s still over 50 pounds, so it’s not like he turns into a teacup poodle, but he’s small relative to his winter self.

My beloved groomer might generally hate people, but I think she likes me, because when I took him in she petted him and then looked at me with extreme kindness and compassion, and said “He’s pretty matted, we’re going to have to go short, are you going to be okay?” I said of course, and that she should do what she needs to do, and I have to tell you that Barkley now has a renewed lease on life. It’s like he shed the weight of the world with the weight of his fur, and has a spring in his step like I haven’t seen for a while. Spring! He’s Springing into Spring! His lump is, honestly, pretty hard to look at, but he’s so happy right now.

As a bonus, not one person has mentioned it, while passing us on walks. Are the people in my neighbourhood reading my blog? Am I giving off A Vibe? Is the lump so horrible looking that people are actually shying away from asking about it? I think it’s the latter.

No matter. It’s a part of Barkley and will be for the rest of his life, and I’m just happy he’s here, he’s moving and grooving, and that spring is starting to show itself, in all sorts of ways, big and small.

Pandemic Reading

Good Citizens Need Not Fear. I love when an author is inspired to write a book based on family experiences, and that was this collection of stories, set in Ukraine in the years leading up to and immediately following the fall of the Soviet Union. It follows people living in a building that “does not exist,” according to municipal records, and how those people make a life for themselves. Those lives are pretty bleak and grim, but the strength of community is apparent. Very interesting and cleverly written.

Everything Happens For A Reason. If you believe in the prosperity gospel, which states that good things will come to you, material things, if you believe and surrender to God, then what does it say about your faith if you become suddenly diagnosed with Stage IV cancer? This divinity scholar writes about her experiences and her grapple with faith throughout the process. I found it a fascinating, fast read.

The Secret Keeper of Jaipur. This is the sequel to The Henna Artist, which I read a while ago and could not remember much about. However, it all came back to me as I read this book; happily, The Secret Keeper of Jaipur catches the reader up on the preceding book and all the characters. I didn’t love this book about gold smuggling and an engineering crisis but I liked it just fine.

I hope you all have a wonderful week, filled with signs of spring! xo

Doing The Wave; 107 Weeks In

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“You and your waving.” My husband said to me on our walk one day, as I waved enthusiastically at a person across the street, only to realize that I had no idea who that person was. This happens more often than you might think; then again, if you know me at all, you would probably not be surprised at the frequency at which it happens.

I am a waver, and I like to greet or acknowledge people, even when I don’t know them. If I pass someone on the sidewalk, at the very least I will nod and smile. More likely, I will give a nod, smile, and a subdued Hand Up Half Wave:

Sometimes I will add the Finger Wiggle, which, if I’m wearing mittens, looks the same as the Hand Up Half Wave, but the feeling is there:

However, if I see someone I know – or I think it’s someone I know – I give a much more active and enthusiastic wave:

This is subdued considering that internally, when I see a friend, I feel like this:

I may or may not have the reputation of being the Crazy Friendly Lady in the neighbourhood, but I embrace my role as Neighbourhood Greeter.

Last week, Barkley and I had just gotten back from our walk, and I was taking advantage of the thaw to clean up the backyard of Barkley-related detritus, when I heard a cheerful “Hello there!” I looked up and saw my new next-door neighbour over the fence. “Oh, hi!” I said and waved happily, realizing at the last minute what was in my hand.

I have waved a dog waste bag at people on the street more times than I can count, while on Barkley walks, but always the bag is CLOSED. When my new neighbour greeted me, I was mid-pickup, my hand was ensconced in the bag and it was full, FULL, people, of dog waste and that is what I waved at him. As I realized what I was doing, I slowly dropped my hand and smiled, asking him how his reno was going.

If he was offended by the view inside a dog waste bag, he didn’t show it; instead he invited me to come and see what was happening. I had never been inside that house before; it was like being inside my own house, but taken down to the studs. I like to think of the neighbourhood, which was established in the early 1960s, and all the original owners choosing the little bungalow layout that suited them best.

There are still a few original owners on our street; Mrs G, next door, is one of them, and Mr. and Mrs. C, down the street. I like to think about all the changes they have seen in sixty years; I have seen a lot in 22 years. I’ve seen a lot in two years, with all my extensive neighbourhood walks, with and without Barkley.

Barkley is going in to get his spring haircut this week (fur cut?) and I am dreading it, not because of the actual grooming – he loves our local groomer – but because of the inevitable comments from strangers that ensue. When he’s really fluffy – as he is now – his lump is hardly discernable, but that will certainly change this week.

I like to think the best of people, and I like to think that people mean well, and they are just concerned for his well-being, but reactions from strangers about his very large lump are hurtful reminders to me that my dog is at the end of his life, and I don’t feel like I need any more reminders. “What IS that?” people will ask, or “Is that a lump on his side?” which is, in my opinion, lacking in intelligence as we all have eyes and we can see that there is, indeed, a large lump on his side. Sometimes I will get a “Can’t you do anything about that?” which also strikes me as unkind, as well as stupid, because if the benefits of removing it exceeded the costs to his well-being, well, I would.

Honestly, it’s enough to make me want to give up my Friendly Neighbour persona.

It’s gotten to the point that I got teary-eyed with gratitude when I saw a lady on our street, who looked at Barkley’s lump, and merely said “He’s still getting around, isn’t he!” I almost cried. He IS still getting around, thank you, thank you.

I was speaking to the groomer about this, as I was arranging his upcoming appointment. The groomer is a person who I would describe as being exactly suited to her job, in every way. She is not, however, a People Person. She is a tall, sturdy, strong woman with a lot of tattoos and who gives off a vibe of Tolerating Dog Owners But Barely. I like her a lot.

Anyway, she is great with Barkley, and I mentioned my dread at having his lump exposed to the world, and the inevitable slew of comments that will follow in the weeks to come. She paused for a moment and said to me “Tell you what I would do. Do you want my advice?” I said of course I did, to which she responded “You tell those people to mind their own fucking business, that’s what.” I started laughing and she said, “I’m serious! Tell them to fuck right off and mind their own business.” After that she said, in a world-weary way, “GOD, I hate people.”

I laughed and laughed, imagining myself responding in this way. That would destroy my Friendly Neighbourhood Lady persona entirely. I would NEVER, but I am happy to have such commiseration, and in the meantime, I will tell them to fuck right off and mind their own business in spirit.

Pandemic Reading

Wish You Were Here. Ugh, this is on me. It is my own damn fault. I do not like this author at all – god knows, I have tried. I find her writing to be contrived, cliched, gimmicky, and heavy-handed. So WHY did I think it was a good idea to pick up this book that IS ABOUT THE EARLY DAYS OF THE PANDEMIC? I will never know. “You did this to yourself,” I said to myself throughout the book. Anyway. I very much disliked it.

The Souvenir Museum. This was a well-written and clever collection of short stories. The settings were all different, but some of the characters intersected or appeared in multiple stories, which I like. All in all enjoyable.

The Reading List. This is a very sweet and moving story about an unlikely friendship, based on a found list of books to read, all of which are books I personally have read and loved. It works with the theme of family, born and chosen, friendship, the importance of community, and the role of books and libraries in our lives. If you are a library and book lover, then you might love this as much as I did. But I’m going to give a huge caveat here: TRIGGER WARNING. There is a sad subplot that I know for a fact will be very upsetting and triggering to a couple of my readers in particular, and if you think that might be you, please please please message me before you read this book. I am not going to tell you what the trigger is because it is a spoiler; instead, message me.

Happy April everyone! I hope spring is springing where you are. xo