Monthly Archives: October 2022

Halloween and Teens

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Happy Halloween, everyone! Whatever your plans today, I hope they at least contain some Fun Sized chocolates. Because I am a Very Fancy Lady, I have a big bowlful of full-sized chocolate bars, and because I get weirdly paranoid about Halloween, I also have purchase three giant boxes of mini chocolate bars and fruity candy, because what if we get swarmed by children and I run out of the big chocolate bars? What if? This has never happened, but there is a first time for everything.

Does Rex want to be a cowboy for Halloween, or would he prefer a tiny sparkly sombrero? We don’t know. We also don’t know what he’s going to think of Trick-or-Treaters. He doesn’t bark when people come to the door, but he is very interested in people, so we are going to have to make sure he doesn’t accidentally bowl small Paw Patrollers over.

This is my Annual Reminder that Teens Are People Too; my very strict rule is that if someone comes to my door on Halloween, they will get a treat. There is no age limit to this, I don’t even care if there is a costume involved, and I certainly don’t have a performance or singing requirement. I’m not telling anyone else what to do with their stash of Fun-Size Kit Kats, but in this house, everyone gets a damn chocolate bar, and I don’t care if the Trick-or-Treater is 6’2″ and is just wearing regular clothes. Halloween is for everyone!

My own teens are not Trick-or-Treating and haven’t for a few years now, but they have been pilfering from my boxes of mini chocolate bars, so maybe I should buy another box, just in case?

No. I need to stay strong. I HAVE ENOUGH.

Besides which, the guys have a lot of sugar cookies to eat, because it isn’t a festivity if there aren’t cookies involved:

The snow mostly melted, just in time for more snow coming this week. Prior to that we had a lot of heavy winds, and some of the decorations took the hit, particularly our hanging mummy:

My husband was out of town for a few days, but the boys managed to fix the decorations that ended up tangled in tree branches, but the ground was so wet from all the snow that they couldn’t get the mummy to stand back up. It took some effort but they jerry-rigged it to a tree. Between that and my younger son putting the winter tires on my car, I am really celebrating having teens, even more than usual. Even when they eat into my stash of mini chocolate bars.

The guys gave me this shirt for Christmas, and it has spurred a whole series of Fuck Things around here. For example, the song September only needs to play for someone to comment “Earth, Wind, and Fire. Fuck water.” There was a restaurant in a small town that we drove past this summer, called “Breakfast Matters…Lunch Too!” at which point, my younger son said “Fuck dinner.”

Good times. Today I teach my Strength and Tone Yoga class, and I think I’m going to take my ladies some Lindors from my secret stash that no one but me knows about, which is why it still exists; maybe I’ll dig out my little witch fascinator as well. Will it stay on during downward dog? Who can say.

Weekly Reading

The Wild Iris. I have been reading this beautiful book of poetry each morning prior to my yoga practice, over the past couple of months. It’s gorgeous. Thanks so much to Suzanne (HI SUZANNE) for introducing me to the incredible Louise Gluck!

The Dictionary of Lost Words. I think it was from reading a Bill Bryson book that I realized…the Oxford English Dictionary didn’t always exist. I mean, obviously! Someone had to write it! But imagine the work that went into that. It took decades, and that is the basis of this novel; the writing of the OED. Importantly, the story deals with words the dictionary DOESN’T include. There was absolutely a bias in the writing of the dictionary; words predominantly used by women and lower classes were typically not included. (There is a whole chapter on the c-word.) Given the fascinating topic, this book should have been a home run for me, but it wasn’t. There were good parts and it was thought provoking, but the story didn’t grab me; I had a hard time getting into it and I found the characters flat. I liked it okay, but not as much as I thought I would. This book got rave reviews, so take my review with a grain of salt, but I just could not CARE about the story as it was written, although I spent a lot of time thinking about the Educated White Man bias that decided which words were important enough to end up in the dictionary.

Unmask Alice. Now, this WAS a home run for me. This book was bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S. Did you read Go Ask Alice when you were a teen? I sure did and it scared the bejesus out of me. I credit it for keeping me from ever trying LSD or any hard drugs, and believe me, I was no angel. Who could forget the final freak out? Who could forget her ripping out her own hair and skin because she thought she was crawling with maggots? Who could forget when she ran away, got her period, and had no feminine supplies. Not that these things are equal, but all distressing. Anyway, the “diary” was completely fake and as an adult, of course, I can see it. I mean, no one goes from acid to speed to HEROIN to…pot. What I didn’t know is how insidious the author of Go Ask Alice was. This book is nuts and it takes you on a wild ride. It covers everything from Satanism to Art Linkletter, of “Kids say the darnedest things” fame. It’s wild and the side notes are supremely funny. At the same time, the religious background of the author makes things like the homophobia of Go Ask Alice even more disturbing than it was on first read. I had no idea that the author of Go Ask Alice went on to “edit” “real diaries” of many other troubled teens, right up until before her death in the early 2000s, always pretending that those diaries were completely authentic, although they all SOMEHOW backed up her own belief system. And just as soon as you think you know what’s happening, this book takes a crazy turn at the end.

Happy Halloween, everyone! Tomorrow is the start of Tiny Secret Festive Season! My Christmas bracelet is waiting in the wings, I have festive-scented hand soaps for every sink, and the fall-themed tea towels are preparing to go back in the closet, to be replaced by all the holiday ones. It won’t be long before I bust out the Christmas playlists and songbooks.

Rex will probably be glad for some Christmas music; I have been learning Bridge Over Troubled Water and it is a BITCH with key changes and difficult fingering.

Enjoy the festivities tonight, whatever you are doing, and best of luck to all my friends starting NaBloPoMo tomorrow! I’ll do my best to keep up with you, but no promises! Have a great week. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The It’s Fall, Y’all Edition

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We have had the most beautiful October with the longest stretch of sunny and warm weather; it’s been the kind of weather that evokes that Anne Shirley quote – I’m glad I live in a world where there are Octobers – which, believe me, is not a normal state of affairs in Calgary. Our first snowfall came fully 2/3 into the month, which is late for us. Here are our Halloween decorations before the snow:

And here is the after:

This is fall in Calgary! You just never know what the day might bring. All of this means that it’s time to pull out the thigh high wool socks, the bumwarmers, and the winter boots. It’s also time for a Favourite Things!

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The It’s Fall, Y’all Edition

It’s Decorative Gourd Season, Motherfuckers

Well, you didn’t think that I would get through an October Favourite Things post without talking about decorative gourds, did you, motherfuckers?

After last year’s fiasco with local wildlife stealing my little gourds and eating them, I decided to keep my miniature gourds inside. Those soft crafted pumpkins were gifted to me by a friend (HI TARYN) and regularly get wagged off the piano stool by SOMEONE. The piano stool was my great-grandmother’s, and I only recently incorporated it into my main-floor décor.

The Girls

Sometimes I can really visualize my future self, and one of those iterations of my future self is Crazy Plant Lady. I mean, I can really see it; me, at an advanced age, lipstick on, wearing flowing black old-lady tops, talking to houseplants, and referring to them all as her babies. It’s already happening, to be truthful.

It all started when my friend Denise (HI DENISE) relocated to Houston, and gave me her 17-year-old Christmas cactus. This Christmas cactus is as old as my youngest child, people. I am a Garden Person but I haven’t had indoor plants for years, other than my almost-zero-maintenance jade plant; still, I promised to care for it tenderly. I immediately named it Noelle and started researching How To Care For A Christmas Cactus.

The first order of business was to re-pot it, and for that I needed some more soil. Too long, didn’t read; I should never be left in the garden centre alone. I decided that along with a new pot and some soil, Noelle needed a friend, and this decorative pepper plant was just the ticket. I named her Pippa. If I had more space Noelle would have had a whole clique of friends, alas, I do not have space.

I had this cute little plant vignette for a week or so, but when we found out that Rex was coming to our home I moved them to the top of the hutch. I wasn’t sure if Rex was a plant-eater – he decidedly is NOT – but I thought his gigantic wagging tail might easily knock over The Girls. This turned out to be prescient, as the aforementioned soft gourds are often flying across the kitchen.

Scrub-a-Dub-Dub

I have loved the Rocky Mountain Soap company for years, but I have always ordered their products online. This generally worked great, but sometimes I ended up with a scent that I disliked. A few months ago I was at the mall which is five minutes from my house, and discovered that they had a new, REAL LIFE store! How exciting! I was able to sniff to my heart’s content, and I bought this lovely Blood Orange Body Scrub:

It’s orange, so I feel like it suits a Fall Favourites. It smells like a creamsicle, or The Body Shop Satsuma line. It’s the perfect blend of scrub and oil, so that it really moisturizes while exfoliating. It’s great for those of us who – pardon me for being indelicate – tend to get ingrown hairs in the bikini area.

Hair

I saw this gorgeous photolog of a woman’s journey to grow out her grey hair, and I was kind of inspired, but not inspired enough, if you know what I mean. One day I shall stop dying my hair, but that day is not today. However. My hair seems to grow fairly fast, if my roots are any indication, which means that in the days leading up to Colour Day, they are fairly dramatic. My roots are almost totally white, which means I am always playing the game of is that my roots or is my scalp showing, am I losing my hair or is it just white. It’s not the most fun game.

I wear my hair up in a bun fairly often, particularly on teaching days, or on days that I don’t wash my hair. I found this hair band, which has trailing ends to make it look like a scarf, and I love it. It makes me feel like a fashionable hippie, or a fortune-teller, but in the best possible way.

I love it because it’s quite wide, so it covers up my roots nicely. I have many hair bands, but this is my new favourite because of the long scarf detailing.

Rex, Enthusiastic Subscriber to Friluftsliv

It’s been over two years since I decided to embrace my Norwegian heritage and the concept of friluftsliv; winters in Calgary are long indeed and I was tired of dreading them. I mean, what can you do about weather? There are two options: you can be miserable, or you can adapt. Well, I guess there are three options: you could move, but I didn’t foresee myself packing up and moving to Maui, the only place that I know of that has perfect weather year-round, so really, there are only two feasible options.

So here we are with quite a bit of heavy, wet snow on the ground, and the stunningly beautiful warmth of this fall in the rearview mirror. In years past, I may have felt a bit disheartened at the prospect of cold, cold, and more cold for the next six or seven months, but NOT TODAY, SATAN. I have layers and I shall wear them, I have many pairs of winter boots, I have bum warmers and thick coats, and I have Rex.

It’s impossible not to be moved by his pure joy at the first snowfall. What a dog! In the ayurvedic world, I believe Rex would be pitta. Bernese mountain dogs are built for winter conditions, so I have a lot of vicarious joy coming my way, as we come into the season. And hey, there’s nothing like winter to soothe those hot flashes, am I right?

Hot Stuff; Heart Stuff

Speaking of hot flashes, Kari (HI KARI) had written this post about menopause, from a Gen X woman’s standpoint, and it is tremendous. All 34 menopause symptoms, each with a song from the 80s. This post was from 5 years ago, but I like to reference it from time to time because High and Dry.

Specific to that point, this How To Apply “No-Makeup” Makeup: A Guide For Mature Women is absolutely worth a read.

This month, Suzanne (HI SUZANNE) wrote a post about measuring with your heart, and I felt seen. I never use the amount of vanilla that a recipe calls for; I at least double it or I just glug glug glug it in. Other things I measure with my heart: to-be-read book lists, grated ginger in any stir-fry recipe, chocolate chips in desserts and cookies, and nut butters in my smoothies.

Speaking of nut butters, has anyone else noticed how tiny the Reece peanut butter cup “fun size” treats are? What the what? When did this happen?

Peanut butter chocolate is still one of my favourite things, but as of next week we will be entering my favourite flavour season: MINT CHOCOLATE! But that is a topic for another post. What are your Favourite Things this month? Tell me everything. xo

Flattering

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I find it interesting that there will be concepts that I take at face value for my whole life, and then I hear another point of view, which changes that concept forever for me. These are all things that I have taken for granted as meaning one thing – usually with a value attached – and then I find myself startled to discover another side. It’s like when you discover that Ring Around The Rosy had its roots in the bubonic plague, which really puts a dark light on all those games we played in preschool. Or, and this is specific to me and my incredible naivety, when I was 23 and learned that the whole point of Three’s Company was that Jack was pretending to be gay in order to have female roommates. Even more specifically, when I was even older than that I learned that the Duke boys were running a still, and that is why they were in and out of trouble with the law since the day they were born. Also, what the what, Confederate flag and the General Lee. It was startling to me, as an adult, to discover who exactly General Lee was and what the Confederate flag stood for. What can I say, this was not covered in my Canadian public school curriculum. All I remember from my childhood, specific to that television show, is that my older brother had a Dukes of Hazzard-themed TV breakfast tray, the kind that a child could use to place their cereal on while sitting on the floor and watching Saturday morning cartoons, and that the show would inevitably cut to commercial when the General Lee was flying off a bridge or some other ridiculous thing. My own breakfast tray was Smurf-themed.

All of this is to say, in the strangest and most round-about way possible, is that in the last couple of weeks I have been really thinking about the term flattering. Along with, I’m guessing, the vast majority of people, I have always had a positive association with the word flattering, but now I am not so sure. I was listening to a podcast, and the guest said that when we use the word flattering in terms of clothing or outfits, it is almost universally intended to mean smaller. Sure, sometimes we say a colour flatters our skin tone or a neckline flatters our face, but in general, it’s true: when we say an outfit flatters us, we mean it makes us look smaller than we are, and this realization kind of blew my mind.

As women, we are socialized from Day One to take up less space. Smaller, thinner, quieter. As the mother of teen boys who work out to become bigger, and who are always trying to take up MORE space, this realization was unsettling.

A few weeks ago I mentioned that my body has changed in the past year and a half; some of it is menopause-related, but a lot of it is due to adding strength training into my workouts. I added strength training back in January 2021, when the gym was closed – and even when it did open, it felt unsafe – and it was far too icy and cold for me to run outside. I wanted to strength train to reduce the risk of injury when I started running again, and then I added a bit more upper body training in a bid to stave off osteoporosis, which my doctor informed me I am at high risk of developing. All medical literature indicates that bone density is improved by strength training, and although I do find it incredibly boring and tedious, I do it regularly; I never miss. This regularity means that my body shape has changed, and some body parts have become bigger. Namely, my glutes and quads; I have a real Baby Got Back situation going on these days.

Here’s the thing: I want to be strong. I want to have lots of juicy muscle protecting my aging joints and bones. I want to be healthy and active for life; I want to be able to still keep moving in my Golden Years. Basically, I want my body to be as strong as possible until I shuffle off this mortal coil; this is why I exercise. I exercise for health, it’s not about esthetics.

Except, it kind of is a little bit about esthetics, and here is the problem.

A lifetime of conditioning ourselves as women to be smaller and take up less space in this world takes its toll on our brains. There is a weird cognitive dissonance here: I regularly exercise to become stronger and healthier, and then being stronger and healthier means that my pants are tight across the thighs and bum. It’s hard to reconcile my newfound bootyliciousness after living 47 years in a society that values smallness, thinness, and pants that don’t fit because they have become too big. Add that to my perimenopausal soft, round tummy that proudly asserts itself despite any exercise routine and, well. It evokes feelings, is what I’m saying.

A while ago, Jamie (HI JAMIE) talked about this exact same phenomenon, but with her shirts no longer fitting due to a stronger and larger upper body. On the one hand: muscle is what we are working for! On the other: patriarchal pressures to be small and take up less space. Jamie has suggested a t-shirt saying “How are you going to smash the patriarchy with small delts?” I want one of my own, but with glutes instead of delts.

One of my most special, prized possessions is a framed Desiderata; the original hung on my grandma’s wall and I had it reframed years ago. I look at it every day. When I was a kid the words that most spoke to me were Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. Isn’t that everything? Isn’t that just everything? We all have a right to be here, we all have a right to take up space, we all can celebrate our bodies exactly as they are, in whatever way they change and grow as we age.

I’m pretty sure these running pants would not be considered flattering in the typical sense of the word. But you know what? They go great with all my black tops AND they have side pockets.

Weekly Reading

It’s Okay To Laugh (Crying Is Cool Too). This was a very good memoir. This woman lost her dad and husband from cancer, AND had a miscarriage, all in a six week period. She writes about her life with levity and wit, and I’m looking forward to reading more! Many thanks to Lisa (HI LISA) for the recommendation. In what felt like a Baader-Meinhof twist, I was reading this and then heard the author interviewed on a podcast, and I liked her even more after hearing her speak. She has a new book coming out and I have it on hold at the library, stay tuned.

The Real Wallis Simpson. When the Queen died, my local library had a big display of royal-themed books, and I picked this one up, saying to the librarian “Do I WANT to know the real Wallis Simpson?” Not to constantly talk about the patriarchy, but PATRIARCHY. Wallis was, of course, the most vilified woman in Great Britain. I did not realize how popular Edward was with the general public, although I did know that Mrs. Simpson was blamed entirely for the abdication and near-downfall of the monarchy. It is important to note that – proven through correspondence – she did not ever want to marry Edward, nor did she want him to abdicate, but once he did abdicate, well, the die was cast. It should also be noted that Edward never really wanted to be king in the first place, according to his own personal correspondence. This book was quite interesting and also very, very sad. It shows that no matter who you are, you need a purpose in life and a reason to get out of bed in the morning, which Edward struggled with after the abdication. This book also paints the Queen Mum in a very unflattering light. It shows her as a woman who held a lifelong grudge – she thought that her husband’s illness and death was brought on prematurely due to the strain of suddenly becoming a king – even though the abdication meant that ultimately her daughter would be the Queen, beloved and revered, for so long.

We had our first snowfall of the season this year, and I have a very, very happy dog on my hands. Also a very, very wet dog! It’s a good thing I have been working out, because walking this guy in the snow takes a lot of effort. I hope you all have a lovely week! xo

A Week of Fall Outfits

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Thank you all for your very sweet comments and well-wishes about Rex! He is a pure joy and has settled into our household so nicely. I do not know how I got so lucky, but I did, and I am so very grateful.

As I am sure all of you know by now, I am very interested in clothes and personal style, and as such, I follow a lot of fashion blogs and listen to a lot of podcasts on the subject. I have said before that I have a Very Strict Clothing Rule, and that is that I should always feel cute and comfortable in my clothes, whatever the activity. In my mind, if clothes don’t fit properly or don’t boost my mood, then they have no place in my life. Lately I have been hearing a lot about sustainable clothing, and have also come to terms with the fact that my own personal style does not at all reflect current trends. Regarding the first item, I believe that the most sustainable clothing are the items that last the longest, and hence, may or may not be particularly trendy. I have pieces dating from 2007-2008, when I was the mother of a toddler and a preschooler, which is very far from where I am now. That may relate to the second item, which is that my personal style is not at all close to what is hot and current.

Here’s the thing: once I hit a certain age I had a Saint Paul On The Road To Damascus epiphany that, although I will always be interested in clothing trends, I am no longer interested in actually wearing them. Probably the biggest driver in all of this is that I like my clothes, and current styles are do not suit me in the least. God bless those lovely young women sporting crop tops, ruffles, and wide-leg pants, but those are just not for me. Also, I think at age 47, I can gracefully yield that which is meant for the youth to the youth. As I mentioned recently, I want my round little tummy covered and I do not feel the need to add breadth to my shoulders via pads or ruffles or flounces of any kind. Also, wide-leg pants look like clown pants on my body, and “Homer going to clown school” is not the look I am trying to achieve.

All of which is to say we are in the depths of fall, and it’s time for A Week of Fall Outfits! It has been a very warm fall for us; we have had no snow and only a handful of frosty mornings. The air is crisp, and it’s close to freezing in the mornings, but the afternoons have been sunny and mild. You know what this means: layers!

I will say, for the record, that I had some doubts about writing this. None of my outfits are Fashion Blog Worthy, or even very creative. I’m not scouring thrift stores and finding incredible vintage wear, I’m not unpacking a “haul,” I’m not donning Fabulous Outfits to go to the grocery store or library. In fact, most of my clothes look like my Own Personal Uniform, the signature of which is Comfortable and Practical. I was almost paralyzed by a weird imposter syndrome, if you can believe it. Who am I to write about fashion? I am writing this wearing my running pants and a tee that says “Nerd Patrol.” But then I thought, I have a week of winter, spring, and summer outfits. If I don’t do fall as well, a disaster beyond our imaginations may occur. Also, cute, comfortable, practical outfits are what we all desire, don’t we, and as a bonus I thought I could probably get seven extra photos of Rex in. So, here we go!

Monday

Monday was Rex Day! Here we are getting ready for our very first walk, and I was coincidentally coordinated with him. I don’t wear this outfit frequently as white and I don’t mix – I’m always spilling something! I have had that sweater since 2012, but the striped top is fairly new, purchased some time during the pandemic. Those jeans are new within the last year; my old jeans were not fitting well and these ones are super comfortable.

Tuesday

Tuesday was mammogram day, so comfortable and easy-to-remove clothing was the order of the day. I have talked about these pants before; they may just be my favourite pants. They have a button and zipper, and pockets, just like regular pants, but they feel like yoga pants. I added a sweater and a tank top, because layers, and both of those items date back to 2017 or 2018.

Wednesday

Wednesday is normally just Grocery Day, but I have been subbing an evening class for the past two Wednesdays. 2016-2019 Nicole taught ten classes a week, often back-to-back, any day or time. 2022 Nicole is exhausted at the thought of going to teach at a time when she normally has her jammies on. Anyway, to teach I always have a very lightweight top over a yoga tank, with leggings, of course. The community centre I teach at is always quite cold, so I chose a long sleeve white top over a bright pink tank. For warmth, I added this light sweater, that I have had so long I don’t even remember when I bought it.

Thursday

Thursday is a teaching day, so yoga pants, tank, and lightweight top underneath a sweater. Again, all pieces I have had for years. The necklace is one my son bought for me on his school trip to Quebec, back in 2017.

Friday

I always try to arrange for a little treat for myself on Fridays. Sometimes it’s a bowl or three of popcorn, sometimes it’s a glass or three of red wine, but this Friday I scheduled a pedicure (and also had popcorn and wine). This meant that I needed very stretchy pants, in order to pull them up to accommodate the foot bath. These pants always feel new, even though my mother gave them to me for my birthday in 2019. I added a long tank and sweater underneath, and it was perfect for the crisp, windy fall day.

Saturday

Here’s a new fashion accessory that has been life-changing – a waist leash! Rex is a good walker but he is very strong and weighs almost as much as I do, and so having a waist leash controls him so much better. Especially when squirrels are everywhere, just waiting to be chased. I love this sweater but it is extremely, shall we say, loosey-goosey, so it requires a tank underneath, so as to not psychologically scar my children every time I bend over. Jeans and comfy Skechers complete the outfit. Is that a mummy next to me? Yes! My husband and son were decorating the front yard for Halloween, updates to come.

Sunday

Sadly, my husband and I had a memorial service to attend, for the spouse of his colleague. This dress is a decade old at least, and I love it. It’s comfortable and the perfect weight for a fall day. Note: those expensive Sheertex pantyhose are still going strong! This is the fourth wearing and they do not even have so much as a snag. The colleague mentioned that we should all feel free to wear our favourite colours to the service, but I have literally no appropriate clothes that are not black. Hashtag: the New York Rainbow.

No matter how comfy a dress is, I’m not making dinner in one. This isn’t 1960 and I am not Betty Draper. Wait, did she ever make dinner? Or was it always just cigarettes and scotch? Anyhow, I switched to jeans and a long sleeve tee.

Weekly Reading

Consent. This was probably the best novel I have read all year. It is incredible. It’s the kind of book where you sit down for a moment and get up hours later, disoriented and fuzzy. It is quite dark and unsettling, complex and moving. I am going to put trigger warnings all over the place, though, it is definitely not for everyone. It follows two sets of sisters and a man who links their stories, and that is all I am going to tell you.

Where You End and I Begin. Sometimes I read a memoir and wonder how the author became a functioning member of society. I used to read her column in the G&M back in the early 2000s; she’s exactly my age. Whoa. She had a very dysfunctional upbringing with an emotionally incestuous mother. They had and have a super close bond. Her mother’s own childhood trauma informed her own and her daughters’ lives, but – unlike what you might hear from her mother’s essays – the author does not exploit this story and writes about her mother with incredible compassion and love. This is astonishing to read in its emotional complexity. 

It looks like it is shaping up to be another beautiful week. What a fall we have had! There is a birthday in the house this week, which means cake. Life is good! xo

Big News, Literally

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As many of you already know, a huge – literally – thing to be thankful for arrived on, appropriately enough, Thanksgiving Monday.

Meet Rex!

This is a good reminder for me to never say never. I never thought I would ever have another dog. I quickly shut down any conversation that broached the subject. But this sweet boy needed a new home, and we were the lucky ones to be able to welcome him into our family.

He’s a 1 1/2 year old Bernedoodle, and he’s almost 100 pounds of pure joy. He has settled in really nicely and seems to like to be within view of me at all times. I heard a thump when I was in the bathroom, and it was just Rex, sitting outside the bathroom door. He has figured out that the kitchen is the hot spot of the house, and so he likes to nap there.

I kind of feel like we are living with Clifford the big red dog. His head reaches our kitchen countertops, but he is extremely well behaved and hasn’t yet tried to sneak a snack. I have to say that I’m not sad to have missed out on the puppy stage, as he is perfectly trained and has made himself at home in the backyard, chasing all the squirrels and magpies.

Look at those paws! What a sweetheart. We are so happy to have him. Prepare for many Rex photos and stories to come! xo

First Step

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Happy Thanksgiving! I hope all my Canadian friends are enjoying this holiday Monday, and I hope you all – Canadian and beyond! – have had a beautiful weekend filled with delicious food and lots of love. I have so very much to be thankful for, not least of which was the Friday night with my parents. Due to my son’s work schedule, we headed up to visit on Friday, when my mom made an enormous dinner with three pies, and a chocolate cake for me, her spoiled daughter who does not like pie. We had a great night with lots of food, wine, and raucous dice games.

Last Monday one of my students brought up the quote “Gratitude is the first step to joy,” and I have been meditating on that all week. I have so much to be grateful for, the number one of which is my family; sometimes I just feel like my heart is going to explode thinking of it. Health, of course, is also a great source of gratitude. At my age, I am seeing more and more friends and acquaintances with health issues, both minor and, sadly, severe. One of my favourite Peloton instructors has a motivational phrase that goes along the lines of I woke up this morning, I put my feet on the ground, not everyone has that privilege. I am starting to completely understand why, when you talk to older people, the conversation veers towards all their friends who are sick and/or dead. Not to be grim, but the older we get the more of that we see, and so I am grateful, so very grateful, for my good health. I woke up this morning! I put my feet on the ground!

Good health is, of course, a broad umbrella. I have found that, with my kids going maskless most of the time, we are all like toddlers on their first foray into day care. Sniffles abound! But this is a minor complaint. In general, our health is good, and I hope tomorrow’s mammogram will confirm that as well.

It is, I will admit, that time in my cycle when my emotions are bigger and for me that means my feelings of gratitude for the mundane cannot be contained. But what better day to list such things than Thanksgiving?

Food, Glorious Food

Supply chain issues and my weird obsession with lemon juice and popcorn notwithstanding, isn’t it incredible that we can go into a grocery store at any time and purchase almost anything? Sure, prices are through the roof and yes, sriracha is still unavailable, but just think of the bounty and variety there for the taking. When I was a kid, the fruit that was available to me in the winter was restricted to bananas and apples, with the occasional bunch of green grapes and mandarin oranges at Christmas. Vegetables were largely frozen or canned, and that was that. Now look at the produce section. Strawberries! Available any time of the year! Somewhere in the world, there is a farmer who is growing strawberries, and Mother Nature is providing sunshine and rain for those strawberries, and people are picking them, and then people transport them, and then the lovely people at Superstore unload them into beautiful displays. So many factors go into our fruit and vegetables, and if I let myself think about it for just a moment, I feel overwhelmed with gratitude.

Now think of all the ways we can prepare food. A mere fifteen or twenty years ago, if I wanted to make a dish I would have to find a recipe in a cookbook, and figure things out. Now there are multitudes of recipes, for free, right in the literal palm of my hand, even the most obscure. A world of flavour at our disposal! Not that I’m great at following recipes, mind you, but inspiration has to come from somewhere.

Home, Sweet and Warm and With Running Water, Home

Maybe this is due to my son’s recent backcountry camping trip, but good lord, I am grateful for clean water. Isn’t it amazing that we can turn a tap and there is clean, safe water? Not only that but we can choose the temperature and it just HAPPENS. There is a water pipe system in place, a sewage system in place, there are people who treat water, and there are scientists who figured out what we need to do to have safe water, and here we are. Every shower and glass of water and load of laundry is a miracle of engineering and technology.

Not only is water heated with absolutely no effort from me except by turning the tap a certain way, but the house is also warm and snug. There’s no fire to stoke. There’s no fuel to haul. I touch the thermostat and the temperature adjusts. Isn’t that incredible? And if it doesn’t, I call Tony the Hot Plumber Who I Have a Bit of a Crush On, and he comes and fixes it. Within the DAY.

Baby You Can Drive My Car

A little while back, Elisabeth (HI ELISABETH) mentioned how grateful she was for being able to drive, and I see her, and raise her. Yes, I am incredibly grateful to a) have learned to drive as a mere 16-year-old, b) have a reliable vehicle, and c) be able to afford to put gas in the car. There are many places where women cannot drive, and there are many who cannot afford a vehicle or gasoline. But more than that I am grateful to have two children who drive. Specifically, I am so grateful my son can drive himself to wrestling practice in the evenings so that two evenings a week I don’t have to keep my regular clothes on until 8:30, at which point I can finally don my jammies and go to bed.

The Awesome Power of Nature

A few years ago, my friend Taryn (HI TARYN) and I were hiking in the mountains when we came across a rushing stream, at which point Taryn said in a booming, PBS-nature-special-voice, “BEHOLD! THE AWESOME POWER OF NATURE!” This was a running joke between her and her husband, and when she shared it with me I started thinking of it every time I saw something pretty in nature. I thought of it every day this week as I walked or ran, with the leaves turning and the skies so blue. Isn’t it amazing? Crunchy leaves underneath our feet, indicating that the trees are preparing for their wintering, just as I am, by digging out my boots and sweaters.

Our Community, Big and Small

I absolutely love the community I live in. I can walk to any number of amenities – grateful for those amenities! – and the people here are generally wonderful. I love my friends, who are all so special in different ways, and I love our blogging community. When I started this blog in 2008, I was part of a lovely little community of bloggers, only one of whom – HI ALLISON – is still blogging today. The blogging world changed for a while – remember sponsored content? – but then a few years ago, I started to belong to a new community. This community strengthened during the pandemic, and I am so grateful for all of you.

If you’re reading this, yes! I am talking to you. I am grateful for YOU. Thank you for being here.

Weekly Reading

Barreling Forward. We all know I really enjoy short stories, and I enjoyed this collection by a new Canadian author. I feel like she might be from Newfoundland, her stories have that flavour, if you know what I mean. If you know, you know.

Lessons in Chemistry. I had heard good things about this and it did not disappoint! It was truly a delight to read BUT…I started it at that time in my cycle when my always-simmering rage about our patriarchal society and institutionalized misogyny boils over. Reading the first fifty pages, with the gross and sexist treatment of the lovely, brilliant scientist main character, my rage boiled all over the stove and left burned on crusts, almost impossible to scrub off. Happily, before I gave up on it and threw it across the room, a dog was introduced as a main character and I was charmed enough to keep reading. It’s a wonderful book that is ultimately about the power of women and the importance of lifting each other up. Oh, and that dogs are smart and wonderful.

This Will All Be Over Soon. I heard about this on a podcast and I thought it sounded interesting enough: it is a memoir by SNL’s Cecily Strong, about mourning the loss of her cousin and then experiencing the early days of the pandemic. The podcast mentioned it was written in diary form, but it reads like her actual diary, which is to say from a writing point of view, it is not great, Bob. It’s not terrible, and it’s a fast read, but I didn’t find it to be particularly compelling or interesting. It did, however, make me feel hopeful as it reminded me just how bleak and scary those early pandemic days were. Over the past ten months or so, almost everyone I know has been boosted and also has had Covid, as have I on both counts, and so I kind of forgot just how deadly and terrifying the virus was back in 2020. It was also interesting to read about experiencing Covid in NYC, which was a different experience, I think, from the rest of the continent. On the whole though, I did not enjoy this.

Fun fact about today’s title: I cannot say the words “first step” without mentally singing “ask her out and treat her like a layyyydayyyy.” It’s impossible! Sometimes I am able to stop there, but mostly my mind will go all the way through the old Eddie Rabbit song. It’s fun to be me! There’s always music. Happy Thanksgiving, my friends. xo

All Creatures Great and Small

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It has been quite the week! We just got back yesterday from a whirlwind visit to my mother-in-law; we flew in on Friday morning and were home yesterday before noon. I am a wee bit exhausted by this; I am used to having weekends being more restorative, and to be honest, I am a bit scrambled. I’m glad we went, of course, my mother-in-law isn’t getting any younger, and this trip was in lieu of our usual Thanksgiving visit. Flights on Thanksgiving weekend were more expensive than, say, flying to Europe or Hawaii would be, and so we went this weekend instead. Not that we are flying to Europe or Hawaii, but the thought of paying upwards of $700 per person for a flight that is less than one hour in duration feels very wrong.

I was in need of a restorative weekend as it had been a busy week, what with the preparation for my son going camping and then all the necessary preparation for this, albeit brief, trip. We are still flying carryon only, which is not a big deal for only two nights away, but was a little bit tricky as the plane we were on was a tiny prop plane, and so a larger carryon item wasn’t going to fit very well. I didn’t want to be THAT person, jamming an oversized carryon into the overhead bin, only to have it taken away and checked. It took some finagling, but I managed to squeeze everything I needed into the tiniest carryon we had, and the guys ended up taking their changes of clothes in their gym bags. I had the foresight to leave all necessary toiletries, other than my makeup and night cream, at our vacation house, so it wasn’t too bad.

I’m sure I could travel with fewer products, but which of these can I do without? Well, no matter, they fit in the bag.

My son got back from his camping trip on Thursday, and he had a great time. You will all be happy to know that the water pump was shut down for the winter and so they had to haul fresh water; no one got any kind of explosive diarrhea, which I think is an accomplishment. My son loves camping and had the best time; one of his teachers took a group of kids on a midnight walk to a bear breeding ground. No bears were seen, because what bear would be within five kilometres of ninety teenagers? Funnily enough, on the weekend my older son spotted this guy right off of our deck.

Speaking of wildlife, we have had a few strange scenarios with the woodland creatures around our house. I was putting my hair up in my room and I idly looked out at the tree in our front yard. There were two squirrels, one chasing the other, and just as my brain formed the thought oh, cute, one squirrel mounted the other and started just going to town. Squirrel porn, right in my front yard. I averted my eyes but I could still see frantic, fuzzy activity in my peripheral vision. Then the squirrel popped off, and seconds later, remounted. Wow, that was a quick recovery. This happened TWICE MORE and honestly, god bless. I was confused, though, because I didn’t realize this was Squirrel Mating Season. Is it Squirrel Mating Season? Who can say. I’m not up on my squirrel reproductive habit research.

Shortly after this amorous display, I was having coffee in the kitchen and I saw a squirrel curled up in the backyard. This is the time of year that they are digging and gathering grass for their winter homes, and so I figured that was what this squirrel was doing. As I sipped my coffee, staring out the window, I realized that the squirrel hadn’t moved for the duration of my Out The Window Staring. Uh oh, I thought. I have never seen a stationary squirrel that hadn’t been run over by a car or something, so naturally, I feared the worst. I opened the back door and clapped my hands loudly, thinking that if that didn’t get the squirrel moving, then we had a problem.

It didn’t move.

For the first time since Barkley’s passing, I was relieved my fuzzy friend wasn’t here to discover death firsthand. Imagine prying that out of his mouth.

My younger son was having breakfast and I informed him that he would have to be a squirrel undertaker, as it were. That kid. He’s game for anything. He grabbed a garbage bag and the garage key to get a shovel, but came back immediately asking for help from my other son, who was getting ready for work. It turns out that the squirrel was not intact, and I’m not talking about that weird scene with Charles in The Crown where he refers to Camilla as such. I’m saying that it was apparent that the mythical neighbourhood bobcat, who I’m always hearing about on our neighbourhood Facebook page, was in our backyard, and the squirrel was not, as I thought, just curled up under its tail. It didn’t exist other than its tail and a small amount of rear end. I texted my neighbours with cats to let them know, to which one of them replied that that explained the half-eaten rabbit found in their front yard.

What is HAPPENING in my neighbourhood? Is it not enough that I cross paths with coyotes on a weekly basis when I’m out running? Well, between squirrel mating and squirrel dismemberment, I guess it’s the circle of life.

Another little life came to an end, and it was my fault, I’m afraid. Before I get to that, I must explain to those who don’t know about Superstore, the grocery store that receives most of my patronage and a lot of my time. One of the ways that Superstore keeps its prices low is by not having grocery baggers; shoppers bag their own groceries. Bags are available for purchase, but I have some plastic bins I use for the purpose, as well as a number of cloth bags. Generally I leave these bins in the garage before popping them in my car on grocery day, and here is where my story begins. I had just finished unloading my groceries on the conveyor belt and I zipped over to the other side of the cashier, to pack them up. I grabbed my bins and a little spider scrambled out of one of them, right onto the conveyor belt, probably surprised it wasn’t in my garage anymore. Listen: I live in Canada, not Australia, and any spiders around here are completely harmless; in fact, they are beneficial as they eat all manner of irritating insects. I did think, though, that as not everyone shares my view I should move the spider somehow, but as I was puzzling as to the how, it disappeared before my very eyes. Okay then. I started packing up my groceries at the same time the cashier started shrieking. She grabbed several tissues and made panicked grabs at the conveyor belt, telling me that THERE IS A SPIDER! WHERE DID IT COME FROM! And although I do think in general honesty is the best policy, in the face of this hysteria, because hysteria it was, I was not going to be truthful in this situation. I awkwardly said “Oh,” while the cashier smashed her tissues on the conveyor belt, and then showed me the successful result of her spider hunt. All this – from the spider’s appearance to its demise – took place in under sixty seconds, but honestly it felt a lot longer. The cashier let out a deep breath and said “Whew, that was a close one,” as if we were in mortal danger and moments away from shuffling off this mortal coil.

On the topic of mortal danger, I had a dentist appointment this week. Mortal danger may be an overstatement, but the dentist, even for a run-of-the-mill appointment, is never that pleasant. Unlike many people, I don’t get anxiety about the dentist, nor do I find it particularly painful. I just dread the dentist because the appointments take so LONG. Here’s the thing: I can often expect a long wait at the doctor’s office, and so I always take a book with me. That way, if I’m waiting 45 minutes, it doesn’t feel like a waste of time because I’m reading. When I’m at the dentist, the appointment is – and this is just for cleaning and a checkup, so nothing invasive – at least ninety minutes. Ninety minutes of lying on my back with my mouth open, and let me tell you, in the best of scenarios – and you know what I’m saying here – I don’t want to be lying on my back for ninety minutes. With my mouth open. I think you know what I mean, let’s circle back to Mating Season.

It just feels like such a waste of time, and I know, I know, it isn’t. Dental health is very important, etcetera, etcetera, but the appointments are JUST SO LONG. And there is nothing for it but to lie there, turn your head when asked, and use that gross suction thing to suck up excess saliva “whenever you need to.” I really like my hygienist, she is an absolute dream of a hygienist, but I find myself having weird open mouthed conversations between suctioning and scraping, and that doesn’t make my appointment any shorter, either. Fun fact: telling someone that you are a yoga teacher leads to extensive conversations about what can be done about tight hamstrings, sore knees, and anxiety. Our conversation about knee replacement surgery and also what I did this summer probably added a good fifteen minutes to my appointment, god bless whoever had the slot after mine. But, and this is a fault of mine I am sure, I have no idea how to stop conversations that have gone on too long. When having an earnest conversation about someone’s bone health, I’m not sure how to say can we just get on with the appointment. Well. It’s fine. It will be another six months before I have to worry about this, I guess.

Weekly Reading

The Startup Wife. You know what is enraging? Women who do all the work while men get all the credit. This book is exactly about that. It was a sharp, satirical, and very fast-moving story about a woman who starts an app with her husband and their friend. She does all the work, all the coding…but her charismatic husband gets all the adulation. Things start to get weird, because it’s an app about rituals and spirituality. An interesting, albeit enraging, read.

The Dead Moms Club. This author is the cohost of a podcast I enjoy called Forever 35, and because I enjoy her so much so I picked up this book. What a wonderful book about grieving and loss – it is warm and funny, but very thoughtful and informative (how to help when someone is grieving, for example). A beautiful book and I look forward to more by this author. 

It doesn’t look like it will be a very relaxing week around here, but I am hoping to make it to Friday when I can get a bit caught up on sleep. I hope you all have a wonderful week! xo