Monthly Archives: December 2023

Boyhouse Year In Review 2023

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Happy New Year’s Eve, friends! I hope you are all enjoying your holiday season. We have the most wonderful houseguests – our dear, dear friends from Calgary – who arrived Thursday and are staying to ring in the New Year with us tonight. I can’t tell you how fun it’s been! In addition, we hosted an open house for around thirty people on the 23rd, Christmas dinner for eight, and on Tuesday, my husband’s cousins – who I love and enjoy so much – are in town and we are having a lunch for between fifteen and twenty of his extended family. It’s a lot of hosting, but fortunately, I like to do it. I may collapse on Wednesday, though.

Every year I do this summary, and every year I marvel at all the things that happened. This year was one for the books, though. At this time last year, I had two unstated, but constantly on my mind, New Year’s goals; one concrete and one subjective. The first was to just make it through the move without having a complete breakdown. The second was to navigate this year of massive change with grace and calm and acceptance. I accomplished both of these goals; it wasn’t always smooth and easy, in fact, I had many moments of panic and stress and worry, I cried a lot and had doubts, but I made it through, and I am proud of myself for doing so.

So much changed! As a person who thrives on routine and ritual, I think that just moving houses is a stressful thing, but we moved to a different province, to a completely different living situation; my husband retired, my son graduated high school and my other son moved out and went to university. We had some medical things to deal with and I said goodbye to my longtime yoga students, my neighbourhood, my friends, my easy proximity to my parents. I said hello to a beautiful new home in a gorgeous climate, to new friends, to new experiences. It’s been a rollercoaster of a year, but I’m finishing it sipping coffee in the company of our dearest friends – later, swapping that coffee for wine – and feeling at home, at peace, and very happy. I hope you are too.

Here’s a summary of the rollercoaster year I had! I hope you enjoy.

Boyhouse Year In Review 2023

January

I talked about goals and my daily routine, and although I didn’t mention my big goal of, you know, moving, I did vow to bake more cakes. I detailed five favourite authors and the books I love, I talked even more about books and if/ what I recommend, I talked about my past career and various other jobs, I started my huge decluttering and house purging project, and I answered questions about food, karaoke, and dancing. I also talked about all the wonderful pleasures that is living in Calgary in the winter, and although that sounds sarcastic, it actually was earnest.

February

I took you on a week-long tour in my kitchen, my sons and their friends drove through a school field in the middle of the night and got their friend’s mom’s car stuck on the local outdoor skating rink, I celebrated Galentine’s Day, my phone stopped functioning as an actual phone, I brought up massively controversial opinions, and I talked a lot about skincare (what else is new?).

March

I answered an assortment of Ask Me Anything questions, I talked about snow and NYPD Blue and Pulp Fiction and my beloved Barkley, it was three years since the pandemic started aieeee, I talked about female friendships and the patriarchy, and I recommended everything from a local place for salad to my favourite things on the internet. In March, we took a family trip to Maui, and it felt like our Last Big Family Trip for a while.

April

I talked about mini-eggs, pot, and the medical emergency on our plane home, told you about vacation reading, and being sensitive. I turned 48 and talked about a variety of my favourite birthday-related things.

May

I talked about yoga and also bear pornography, bloodwork and bloody heels, and my son’s terrible experience with getting his wisdom teeth extracted. We had dreadful amounts of wildfire smoke, I had an insanely frustrating day, my younger son graduated high school and I was extremely emotional, and I confessed that I was losing my hair and talked about the mitigation strategies I have been using to reverse that.

June

This was the month I finally revealed to my dear readers that I was moving, which maybe explained the massive amounts of cleaning, purging, and general emotional rollercoaster of the previous six months. But before I revealed that, I talked about crying in Superstore because every single male in the house had a medical issue, Rex’s issue happening on Barkley’s birthday, I cried on Peloton while listening to Miley Cyrus, I finally started not crying due to a mental shift while doing yoga, I celebrated the Summer Solstice with new jeans, and I talked about all sorts of things from my youth (California Raisins! The Ogopogo! GRIMACE!).

July

I tried to visit all of my Calgary friends before leaving and frantically worked to get ready for the move, I went through all the boxes that had been sitting in my storage room since the last time we moved, I said goodbye to Calgary and told you all my favourite things about it, we moved and I did not die, and I unpacked.

August

I talked about books and my complete breakdown due to not being able to get a library card and losing my beloved bookmarks, I acclimatized to my new surroundings, I talked about all the little things that we all do but in different ways, like cooking or washing our faces, I met new friends, there was a terrible fire in Kelowna, things got VERY STRESSFUL, and I gave you all a tour of my new house.

September

There was a bear in our yard, aieee, a friend sent me a photo of my old house in Calgary, which had an errant shopping cart in the front yard, evidently waiting for me to return it, I talked about children and my social life, my husband retired and I went back to Calgary for the retirement party, and I showed you all my favourite fall things.

October

I found a hair stylist, which, as we all know, is a very important thing when moving, we drove ten hours to visit my parents and also had our one-year Rexiversary, I asked if it was just me or everyone, I talked about body image, food, the most depressing Weight Watchers book ever, and cake, I went crazy over fall foliage, and I dressed up as Cruella DeVil.

November

I had some great conversations with perfect strangers, I had a variety of small grievances, my son’s friend came to stay for a week and we had a houseful of boys, I talked about important things like jeans, we decorated the house for Christmas, and I celebrated Gnomevember!

December

We got a little bit of snow and I found out that I listened to over 93000 minutes on Spotify, I talked about my favourite five-star things in 2023, we lit all the lights because hoo boy, it’s dark, I took a deep dive into Charlie Brown, I found poetry in the grocery store, and I celebrated Winter Solstice.

I can’t believe all this happened in the space of one year. I have a few big goals this year, one which will remain unstated, again, for the time being, but my stated one is to get my new veggie and flower gardens organized and planted. I have all the usual soft goals of living well with grace, acceptance, patience and calm; I think 2024 is going to be a year of more travel and adventure as well. I hope you all have a very Happy New Year tonight, however you ring it in, and I look forward to sharing with you in the year to come. You are all such a gift to me, friends, and thank you for being here. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Winter Solstice Edition

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Happy Winter Solstice, everyone! How are we all doing, on the darkest day of the year? I will celebrate by walking in the dark this morning as Rex has a grooming appointment at 8. A clean and fluffy Rex will be a highlight of this dark day; will I be able to keep him that way until Christmas? Who can say. Likely not. But anyway, today seemed like the perfect day to talk about Favourite Things, so without further ado:

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Winter Solstice Edition

New Home For The Holidays

After twenty-three years in a pretty small house, in which we had to rearrange the furniture in order to fit our Christmas tree, it is pretty exciting to have a spacious new home as the backdrop for All Things Christmas. It has been so fun finding little spots for all my decor; my holiday decorating aesthetic can best be described as Everything Everywhere All At Once. I have little things in every corner and windowsill, and it all feels so Merry and Bright, without feeling Claustrophobic and Cluttered, which, if we are being honest, is how things started to feel in our old house by the time Santa magically slipped down the metaphorical chimney.

We do not have a fireplace in this house and the lack of a mantel was the cause of some anticipatory consternation on my part last year, but I think using pretty ribbon to tie the stockings to the staircase hand rails is even better.

Part of my aesthetic can also be described as Sentimental Mom, and so I proudly display this cute candle set that my older son took a bite out of when he was eight months old and teething.

The Charlie Brown Christmas tree is nestled among the old farm equipment we have on display and, more festively, the little stuffies that used to hang on the knobs of the boys’ dressers; for some reason, the boys don’t want this as part of their room decor anymore.

Where’s Salvadore?

Many of you will remember when Salvadore first came into my life, the guys would move him into different parts of the house while I slept, just like my very own springtime gnome version of Elf on a Shelf. A few weeks ago I brought the outdoor gnomes indoors for the winter, and Salvadore has been springing up in the strangest locations. I’ll wake up to him covered in a pile of bananas, or in the vitamin cupboard, or masquerading as a Christmas gnome.

He’s literally Gnome on a Shelf!

He thinks he’s a present. Aw, he is. He’s a gift to all of us.

Speaking of gifts, look what Michelle made for me (HI MICHELLE!)

You must – MUST – check out her gnome Christmas party. Just prepare yourself. You may just spin off the planet with excitement, if you are a person who is Gnome Obsessed. Even if you’re not, it’s the cutest little thing you’ve ever seen. Is Michelle’s dollhouse just an evergreen Favourite Thing? MAYBE.

The Moving Pictures

I don’t watch movies generally; I usually fall asleep during them because I have become my own dad. Christmas is an exception! We all have Christmas movies that we must – MUST – watch every year, and mine are Elf and Christmas Vacation. But I also love what I think of as holiday-adjacent movies; I always watch my all-time Favourite Movie When Harry Met Sally around New Year’s, and I like to watch Little Women around Christmas.

Which one, you might ask, the one from the 90s or from 2019, and which is the favourite? You may also remember that I tend to loathe film adaptations of beloved books and I don’t know if I had a more beloved book as a child than Little Women. These movies are the exceptions! I love both of them and, like my children, I love them equally but differently, and just as I do not have a favourite child I also do not have a favourite Little Women. The one from the 90s is a pure nostalgic joy. If I need pure happiness, that’s the one. If I need to cry, I need only to watch the scene where Mr. March gives Beth a piano.

But the 2019 version is a love letter for the hardcore book fans. I think you need to be a real fan of the book to love this movie the way I do. Visually it is so perfect. So perfect! The sisters behave like sisters, the Hummels actually look like impoverished immigrants at the end of the Civil War, and the scene where Meg is at the ball, cutting to the scene where she has a grim financial discussion with her husband is pretty much cinematic perfection. We all know that Louisa Alcott was pressured to “marry off” Jo, which was how the sequel to Little Women – originally entitled Good Wives, although now it is just considered the second part of the book – was written. I love how the ending reflects Alcott’s true experience, and that it shows that Jo’s writing was her real love. The book itself is subversive and so strongly feminist, and the movie even more so. This is becoming a deep dive into the movie, which I didn’t want it to be, because who has the time, but I just watched it again and I love it so much. I felt like standing on a vulva-shaped soapbox with my ink-stained fist raised after watching it. The only thing that is a tiny bit jarring is the appearance of Bob Odenkirk as Father, which, what a casting decision that was. It takes me out of the movie EVERY TIME. Why is Saul Goodman here?

Let’s not get started on how Alcott’s actual father was a useless piece of shit who was FRIENDS WITH THOREAU. A less-successful Thoreau, if you will. We all know how I feel about Thoreau – do not quote that man to me, do not do it – so you can probably deduce my feelings about Bronson Alcott. Well. Is this Favourite Things or is it an Early Festivus Post? Let’s move on!

Oh, Miraculous Food

If you have watched a specific one of my favourite holiday-adjacent movies, you will immediately recognize that line, and it is one I think of almost every dinnertime. Miraculous food! I will say – and this is not a Favourite Thing, so bear with me, here I am in Early Festivus Mode again – I had a not-small degree of angst about a month ago when I realized that for the first Christmas in my forty-eight years on this planet, if there is a special holiday foodstuff I want, I need to procure it for myself. I know. I KNOW. Forty-eight is pretty old to discover Regular Adult Phenomena, and to shrug off the Spoiled Daughter Shawl, but there it is.

Here’s the thing: I prepare wholesome, delicious dinners every single night. FROM SCRATCH. I bake all manner of lovely muffins, loaves, and cookies year-round, and then I start leveling up every holiday season. I enjoy doing and eating all of those things. But I just kind of wanted some favourites without having to make some myself.

Well, boo hoo, you might be saying, and you would be right. There have been some Linus’ blankets wrapped around my sagging tree, which I deeply appreciate, but for the most part I have made peace with this and have womaned up to reality. Christmas dinner is going to be a joint affair between me and my mother-in-law; it will be at our house, and my mother-in-law is going to provide turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and gravy, and since none of those are things I eat, I am going to provide side dishes such as Suzanne’s fall salad (HI SUZANNE) – with the addition of roasted chickpeas and dried blueberries, omitting the pomegranate – roasted broccoli, peas, and, naturally, kalettes. Hashtag kalette influencer. A widowed neighbour lady who has no family is coming for dinner and is bringing her signature German stollen, which I don’t believe I have ever had, and of course I have many sweets for us all to nosh on. There will also, needless to say, be wine.

Speaking of sweets to nosh on! I have mentioned my mint squares, and my gingersnaps and gingerbread. I made truffles, but I used mint chocolate chips for them and then dipped them in a mixture of melted chocolate and refined coconut oil. They turned out really well.

If you need a last minute, easy, fancy-looking treat, may I suggest bark? You don’t even need a recipe for this, although I will include some for Lisa (HI LISA). Here’s the deal: melt some chocolate. Stir in some crumbled up bits of things – Pretzels! Candy canes! Nuts! – and then spread the mixture onto a parchment paper-lined cookie sheet. Put it in the freezer for 15 minutes or so, and then break the pieces apart, put in a cute tin, and voila. Festivity.

Holiday Re-Reading

I have a giant pile of library books waiting for me, but I put them aside for a couple of days for these three holiday re-reads. The Holiday Breakdown is a delightful little book about a writer who drives cross-country to escape LA and her writer’s block, to help her parents with their ailing ski resort. On the way her car breaks down in what appears to be a town from a Hallmark Christmas movie. It’s a fun, sweet read.

I read Holidays on Ice every year BUT you may remember that I dislike Sedaris’ fiction stories, so I only read the essays, with the exception of The Cow and the Turkey, which is hilarious. I skip from Santaland Diaries all the way to Dinah, The Christmas Whore.

My good friend Steph (HI STEPH) mentioned that she reads A Christmas Carol every year, and I thought I should do that! It had been YEARS. I searched out my copy that is so old my name is written in bubble letters in the front. I forgot how incredibly witty and descriptive the writing is; obviously, it’s a classic for a reason. My husband and older son also read it this week; it was the first time for both of them. “Scrooge is a total incel!” my son commented, and once you see that, you can’t unsee it. Anyway, we celebrated this literary milestone by all four of us watching the Muppets Christmas Carol which none of the guys had ever seen. I KNOW.

Outfit of the Month

There is never a bad time for a little black dress; it’s appropriate for almost every going-out occasion, festive or otherwise. The truth is I probably have a dozen or so in different weights, lengths, and styles, but I really love this turtleneck sweater dress. Paired with boots that I believe I bought in 2010, it made a perfect outfit for my night out with the girls to a candlelight concert (HI SAMMI HI JOY).

I wanted to give a little reminder that I have an Ask Me Anything form, so if there’s anything you want to ask, now is your chance! It will be fun way to start the New Year. The New Year that is only eleven days away, my goodness!

On that note, Happy Holidays, my friends. I am taking a little blog break to focus on the festivities; I’ll see you on the other side. Take good care. I wish you all joy, rest, love, peace, and the most delicious of the delicious treats there are. xo

Poetry In Motion

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If I were a Mary Oliver or a Maya-type person, I would be sitting at my desk, crafting a moving poem about the beauty in the mundane everyday, about the ordinary suddenly becoming extraordinary, after a little tiny bird, a chickadee, flew right in front of my cart at Superstore in the middle of the bakery section. I gasped, I was so filled with wonder. I watched it flutter up, up, up, and perch on one of the high ceiling beams.

If I were Mary or Maya, (HI MAYA, yes I DID group you with Mary Oliver, deal with it), I would write about thinking to myself what a wonderful world, I would write about going placidly amidst the noise and haste that is Superstore ten days before Christmas, I would write about reveling in the natural world among us. I might somehow craft a poetic sentence about thinking that there were no more tiny tubes of decorator frosting in the baking aisle, but then finding them behind a box of carrot cake mix; I would talk about how they are actually kind of gross but they work great for decorating gingerbread men, which I did this past weekend with my actual grown-men children, and then I would write about traditions, my heart, and the many blessings that surround me. Somehow this poem would reach its apex with the little bird flying between the displays of Danish and cookies in their plastic clamshells, crossing my path and filling me with delight and all the warmth and wonder of the holiday season.

I would not, however, include in my poem what happened when I joined the checkout lineup, a short line with only one woman with a full cart behind a gentleman who seemed to be just finishing checking out. I would be tempted to include the detail of the man who lined up behind me with only a small basket of items, and how I, filled with the holiday spirit, insisted he go ahead of me, and then the woman in front insisted he go ahead of her. She and I were conjoined in that little joy that is spreading happiness to others by allowing them to jump the queue, and the gentleman was gracious enough to inform the cashier that he had received two Christmas gifts from these lovely ladies, who allowed him to go first.

Alas. The first gentleman, the one who had ostensibly been already checked out, had some issues. There was a problem with one of the prices on his bill, and then there was a problem with one of his items. This problem was such that customer service needed to be called, but it was ten days before Christmas, and customer service was slow to respond. I coped by talking to the woman in front of me, who informed me that the reason she had so many groceries was because she was a) hosting a dinner for thirteen that very evening, and b) hosting a dinner for 160 at her church on the weekend. While I digested that information, we talked about her pink hoodie dress, her boots, and the raspberry Bubly in her cart. She realized she forgot eggs; I told her I would hold her spot until she came back. My offer was not one of significance, because by the time she came back we were still waiting for customer service for the first gentleman; the one who we allowed to go ahead of us was still standing there awkwardly holding his basket, waiting. Probably he thought it would be faster if he just left and found another, less-problematic lineup, but likely he did not want to throw our unfortunately meaningless Christmas gifts back in our faces.

Twenty minutes later, it was the lady’s turn, and unfortunately for me, it turned out AFTER the cashier had gotten through half the items that the woman remembered she needed her items separated into two different bills, one for her own personal party and one for the church’s, and so everything needed to be voided and re-entered. At that point I had a really hard time remembering the little chickadee.

If I were a poet I would be able to craft a beautifully haunting poem about the wide variety of the human experience, but I’m me, and I can tell you, I was feeling pretty salty by the time I loaded up my car. I had to aggressively listen to a podcast on holiday decor on my way home and then equally aggressively put together my daily Advent dog-themed puzzle before I could settle myself down and regain a sliver of my holiday spirit.

Ah, life. Sometimes it’s like this:

And then sometimes it’s this:

Here we are, one week until Christmas, can we even believe it? Last week my older son wrote four finals in 47 hours, and so he came home for a few days to decompress before heading back to prepare for his last final, late this week. I used that opportunity to corral the troops into, as alluded to earlier, our annual tradition of gingerbread decorating.

There was some interesting creativity this year – not from me, never from me – and yet not a single one with anything obscene written on it. We are growing as people.

Weekly Reading

A Manual For Cleaning Women. Someone mentioned this book, and now I can’t remember who. Was it you? Anyway, I do enjoy a collection of short stories, particularly linked short stories, but I want you to know that the word for this isn’t “enjoyable.” These autobiographically-inspired stories are well written and incredibly moving, but holy moly they are gritty. This is a grim and gritty book about mining towns, alcoholism, poverty, and illness. Huge content warnings ahoy for pretty much everything but particularly infanticide (whew, that was a ROUGH story to read), graphic descriptions of the physical side of alcoholism, child abuse, sexual abuse, domestic abuse, and a really gross story about pulling out teeth. I’m not squeamish about teeth in general but this had me feeling queasy. So, yes, a talented author and excellently written, but DARK AND GRITTY. Possibly not the right thing to read in December, is what I’m saying.

But Have You Read The Book? After the last book, I desperately needed something light and fluffy and that did not require thinking. This was PERFECT. I have never been reticent about my general dislike for book-to-screen adaptations; there are only a couple that I actually enjoy. But who knew so many movies were book-to-screen adaptations! Certainly not me (Mildred Pierce, really?). Anyway, this is a fun little book put out by TCM that talks about 52 movies that were made from books. Of the 52 titles, I have read OR seen 25, and of those I have read AND seen only five (Little Women, Clueless (Emma), One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest, The Godfather, and The Color Purple). If you’re a movie buff – or know one, this would make a great gift – this is a book you’ll enjoy, particularly if you love older movies. Birchy (HI BIRCHY) I’m looking at YOU.

Contemporary Canadian Women’s Short Stories. All the short stories in this collection were written by Canadian women, which, hello, checks a lot of boxes for me. This did NOT disappoint. Of course my favourites Alice Munro and Margaret Atwood are featured, both in stories that I have read independently many times, but I was excited to see stories from the two women who taught the online creative writing courses I took this fall. I felt like Buddy the Elf: I KNOW THEM, I KNOW THEM! (I don’t really but kind of?). As with any short story collection with a variety of authors, there were some stories I absolutely loved, and some I did not. A couple of stories were incredibly moving but the subject matter was so upsetting I had to take a break and do something else for a while. If you love CanLit and women’s writing and short stories, this is a marvellous collection.

I get asked a lot about books – here for it! – and I was thinking, maybe there are other questions my dear readers may have. To that end, I am doing an Ask Me Anything! If you have a question for me, please fill out this form; I thought this would be a fun thing to do post-holidays. I will answer pretty much anything, books included! Then again, you may be thinking god no, I already know too much, in which case, well, I understand.

I shall conclude with a small addendum from last Friday’s post. After writing I was slightly concerned that my memory of the alien Christmas movie was part of a fever dream of childhood, but IT WAS NOT. Dailycrossword (HI DAILYCROSSWORD) who, coincidentally, grew up in Alberta, also remembered that movie, called A Cosmic Christmas. As soon as I saw the photos I was instantly transported (cosmically?) back to it. I had misremembered part of the plot, which involved the theft of a pet goose by the town bully who – in a bullies are bullied plot point – stole it because he was hungry. Ah, pet slaughter for food. Again, so much to unpack. But the part about the human chain to pull the child out of the frozen lake and the aliens helping, discovering for themselves the true meaning of Christmas was accurate. Wishing everyone holiday spirit this week, and no falling through the ice into hypothermia-inducing water, metaphorically or otherwise. xo

Five For Friday: The Charlie Brown Deep Dive Edition

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  • I’ve been noticing this little tree on my morning walks, and it reminds me of Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree. I feel like it would tip over with the addition of a little red ball, and although I dislike 90% of the actual television program, I really resonate with the symbolism of the tree. I wrote back in December 2020 that sometimes we are the tree, sinking under the weight of the season and all the various performative pressures that are placed mainly on women in our society to create a certain jollity and magic. Sometimes, though, we are Linus’ blanket, seeing that our friends are bending under the symbolic red ornament and are ready to snap, and we wrap those friends in our metaphorical blankets, propping them up so that they are suddenly and somewhat improbably able to not only face the season, but they grow all new branches and stop dropping needles and are able to withstand the weight of not only that one red ornament but an entire treeful, including a star on top and many layers of tinsel. I aim to be a Linus’ blanket but I have definitely been the tree at times.
  • I cannot watch that show anymore. I find it so incredibly mean-spirited generally. However, I really do like the railing against the commercialization of the holiday, despite the fact that I definitely purchase many gifts at this time of year and I always will. Who knew that 45 years after Charlie Brown Christmas and the complaint that Christmas had become too commercial, Tim Minchin would release what has become one of my favourite and most resonant Christmas songs, White Wine In The Sun, which includes one of my favourite song lyrics ever: I really like Christmas…And yes, I have all of the usual objections to consumerism, to the commercialization of an ancient religion, to the Westernization of a dead Palestinian, press-ganged into selling PlayStations and beer. But I still really like it. If that line does not resonate with you, please do us all a favour and simply skip it because you certainly will not like the rest of the song, and I really cannot face any more public loathing of my favourite holiday songs. I will not have it, people! I will not have my go-to-holiday-stress-cry-therapy song besmirched by anyone. So just don’t listen.
  • Speaking of music, the Charlie Brown Christmas has, hands-down the best Christmas album in the history of time, in my humble opinion. Second to that is Michael Buble’s, and a distant third is Harry Connick Junior’s When My Heart Finds Christmas. I dare you to find three more uplifting and Holiday Spirit Consciousness Raising albums.
  • I also really like Snoopy, and I strongly identify with the little dancing girl with the straight dark hair and the pink dress. That is my dancing style and also was my aesthetic back in the day.
  • On the topic of Media I Consumed In My Childhood That Seemed Normal But Was Really Weird As Fuck, there was an animated movie I recall, entitled The Small One. It had to do with a donkey who was too old and frail to be of any use, and so the owner’s son had to take it to town and sell it. There was no question keeping it, as it would do nothing but eat without contributing at all to the household income. The man who offered to buy it – this is a bit fuzzy in my mind, but bear with me – was abusive and was going to essentially work the donkey until it died, and then use it for glue, like poor old Boxer from Animal Farm (RIP Boxer). Somehow either the donkey escaped or he didn’t, but he ended up in the hands of Joseph, to carry Mary to Bethlehem, showing that a seemingly-worthless animal can actually be a vital part of a most-worthy task. How a crippled old donkey could possibly carry an enormously pregnant woman on a long journey is a question no one asked, but also there is a lot to unpack here. This children’s program about animal abuse, the lack of choices for those experiencing extreme poverty, and the role of those deemed unworthy in our society was probably shown to me at Sunday School, although it could have been in regular school, the public school system not being so inclusive of other religions at the time. Another animated holiday movie I do remember clearly seeing at school had to do with aliens landing on earth and everyone being mean to them for being different, because symbolism needed to be heavy-handed back then. The movie climaxed with one of the neighbourhood children falling through ice on some kind of body of water, and the aliens helped to form a human/ alien chain to pull that child to safety. We are all one. I will not try to look up anything more about this, as I have had a lifelong phobia of aliens in media, the blame of which can be placed directly on E.T., but I clearly recall the grasping of hands and one of the local anti-alien bigots hesitating a moment before allowing his hand to be taken by an alien. Then everyone got anal probes. Just kidding! I believe it ended with the aliens leaving, which would seem to be going against the probable theme of welcoming people from other cultures, but again, it was the 80s. Things were different.

All Of The Lights

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Out of respect for accuracy and to the scientific community in general, and to my friend Chris (HI CHRIS) in particular, I will not say the days are so short right now. A day is always twenty-four hours, whether we are in December or June; however, I will say whoa, there is really not much daylight right now. I mean, of course! Next week is Winter Solstice, which is NOT THE SHORTEST DAY OF THE YEAR, but it is the day with the least amount of daylight.

It is DARK, friends. Hello, darkness, my old friend, one might say. One also might say that it’s time to turn on all of the lights, maybe not the cop lights and definitely not the strobe lights, but absolutely the Christmas lights.

As you all know, when it comes to outdoor seasonal decor, my husband likes to really embrace the season in question. He gifted many of our Halloween decorations, but you can bet we brought every single Christmas item with us across the provincial line.

Yes, that IS a gnome on the top of the deck steps.

Candy Cane Lane has become Candy Cane Line, below the overhead grape rows.

My husband wanted to take out this shrub, can you imagine? It is the perfect receptacle for the sparkly balls, and as a bonus, not one has blown off the branches, causing me to find it in a neighbour’s yard or down the street, like in previous years.

He plugs them in around 3:30 in the afternoon, because the sunset is now at 3:55 pm. I, however, turn on the Christmas tree when I get up at 4:30 in the morning, and leave it on all day, because CHRISTMAS.

It has recently come to my attention, via Elisabeth (HI ELISABETH) that some people have strong feelings about white lights versus coloured lights, and I am glad I do not have to make such a serious and life altering decision, as our tree has the ability to have both. I mean, it’s like having to choose a favourite child; Sophie’s Choice, vis a vis Christmas lights.

My husband has allergies to pollen and to evergreen needles, and so we have always had an artificial tree; to me, this is a huge bonus because it can be up for extended periods of time without worry about drying out or spontaneously bursting into flames due to drying out, or, less dramatically, dropping needles. I have enough to do with regards to my floor cleanliness due to my giant dog who constantly brings in the outdoors, without worrying about my Christmas decor adding to my workload.

Speaking of Elisabeth, it’s that time for the annual Secret Santa Mug Swap – thanks to San (HI SAN) for organizing the swap! – and this year I received a lovely package from her on December first! Talk about being incredibly organized, and also, does she know me or what:

IT HAS SPROUTS ON IT. The chocolates were delicious, of course, and the sweet little bear is hanging out on my tree next to the weird paper angel my older son made when he was in preschool, that appears to have three eyes and no discernable mouth. In other words, a place of honour! Just to illustrate my sons’ different personalities, my older son insists on having that angel in the most visible spot on the tree, but my younger son will place his youthful self’s handicrafts in obscure corners facing the wall, so they are technically on the tree, but no one can see them.

I have much to say about books this week, so without further ado:

Weekly Reading

Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle. My friend Hannah (HI HANNAH) told me about this book, and wow, is it ever good. If you’ve been feeling emotionally, mentally, or physically exhausted, this is the book for you. It walks through stress cycles and how to deal with stress in a healthy way, body image and our society, and how to rest in a way that is restorative to YOU, as an individual. Interestingly, it talks about the importance of physical touch and human connection for combatting health issues from stress; this came out before the pandemic but it sure explains a lot about the individual experiences from that time. My only complaint is that I didn’t read this a year ago when I really needed it. Particularly if you are a person who likes to please others or if you are a person who takes on the emotional weight of the household and feels that you are responsible for other people’s moods and happiness, this book would be incredibly resonant and helpful.

Shelley II: The Middle of My Century. Well. In 1989, after I had been obsessively rereading Shelley, Also Known As Shirley for two years, Shelley Winters published a second autobiography. At that time, I saw it in the bookstore (probably Coles) and for some reason I didn’t buy it then. I was only 14 and on a limited babysitting budget, so I probably spent my money on something really good like Thin Thighs In Thirty Days (the upshot of that book, in case you’re interested, is to do a lot of leg lifts and develop an eating disorder). Anyway, I didn’t buy Shelley II, considered buying it for a while, and then I kind of forgot about it. It has been out of print for a long time, and recently I became re-obsessed with the life and times of Shelley Winters. I actually saw a copy of this book on Thrift Books, bought it, waited with much excitement, reread the first one in preparation, and…was extremely disappointed. In the foreword she says that talk show hosts only ever wanted to talk about her many love affairs after the publication of her first book, so THIS book would be different. Womp womp. Girl, that is what I am here for! Spill the tea! There is a lot here about the Actor’s Studio and the Method – interesting, yes, but my god, so much detail and none of it sexy – and also about her explosive second marriage and subsequent divorce, AGAIN to an Italian actor. Lots of toxic detail, almost zero sex. I have to tell you, with all the discussion about every play she was in during the 50s and 60s, and her travels from New York to California to Europe and back, it was pretty repetitive and boring. Who knew that it could be so boring after such an incredible first book! Well, maybe that’s why it’s out of print. I found myself liking her a lot less after reading this and I kind of wish I hadn’t. I wish I had just left this book to my imagination. 

Fairest of All. I have had a monthly date with my dear friend Nicole (HI NICOLE) since January 2018. We have not missed a month in SIX YEARS. It used to be coffee dates, and then during the pandemic it was phone calls and, later, dog walks. Now it’s phone calls again. Nicole Is the Mary Bennett to my Charlotte Lucas, and she knows my book taste better than anyone in the world. In fact, if I need advice on whether to pick up a buzzy book I ask her and she gives me a straight answer (yes to Happiness Falls, no to Station Eleven). Anyway, I was lamenting a run of bad books and she told me about this YA series that she had gotten for her kids but read herself; they are Disney fairy tales from the villain’s point of view. HELLO! This one centres around the Queen in Snow White and IT IS FUN. It takes less than two hours to read, it’s a fun and unusual retelling, and I am going to read the whole damn series.

I hope you all have a wonderful week, filled with light in this time of dark. xo

Five For Friday: The 2023 Five-Star Edition

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As we are speeding through the last month of 2023, I wanted to talk about some of the five-star things that have been absolute gifts this year, for body, mind, and soul.

  • I do not consider myself a book snob at all, although my husband thinks that I am one. What I have noticed, though, is that what I consider a five-star book and what Goodreads patrons consider a five-star book are two very different things. It’s gotten so that I will not read any review on Goodreads, because I will inevitably be irritated or incensed, depending on my own feelings. How could anyone rate that five stars? I’ll think crabbily, and then I’ll be enraged that someone gave a book I loved two stars. I keep a spreadsheet on which I record my books and my own rating out of five; I am pretty loosey-goosey with my ratings. I have a friend who will never rate a book five stars unless it was in the same caliber of writing as Maya Angelou and James Baldwin, and she thinks that a three-star read would be one she liked and would reread, whereas in my mind a three-star is a meh, it was okay read. For me, a five-star is something I loved, with gorgeous writing and characters, and something I would reread more than once. It’s a feeling, is what I’m saying, it is more of a qualitative rating. In any case, I read a lot of good books this year – and it’s not over yet, maybe there will be more! Here they all are, and I did not link anything because I thought, hey, if you want to you can look them up. Five Star Books In 2023: In A New York Minute, Nora Goes Off Script, Girls They Write Songs About, The Marriage Portrait, The Glass Hotel, All Along You Were Blooming, Fleishmann Is In Trouble, Yellowface, Foreverland: On The Divine Tedium of Marriage, The Paper Palace, Swipe Up For More!, Romantic Comedy, You Think It I’ll Say It, Bel Canto, The Dutch House.
  • As I said, if I love a book, I will reread it, sometimes many times. This year, I revisited old favourites, most of which reside on my forever bookshelf. Some of these rereads were because of the move, and my inability to access the library for so long, but some of them were just because I wanted to reread them, or I needed a comfort read as a palate cleaner. Five Star Rereads: Dear Life, Carnival of Snackery, Hateship Friendship Courtship Loveship, My Name Is Lucy Barton, Anything Is Possible, Oh William!, Calypso, I Feel Bad About My Neck, Emma, These Precious Days.
  • Five Star Clothing and Beauty Products: I have mentioned this many times, but I cannot get enough of my Mott and Bow jeans. Listen, the perimenopausal body goes through a lot of changes, some of which cause clothing to fit differently than before. Life is an incredible journey and one that sees a great deal of change in the physical body, as well as in the mental, emotional, and spiritual ones. These jeans have been good for all four. Speaking of changes, well, everyone knows how strongly I feel about Nutrafol, which has helped in my hair loss, but I also have to give huge shoutouts to Neutrogena’s Retinol Plus, and Maybelline’s new product The Falsies Surreal. This seems like the next big step in my mascara evolution. I always feel amazed that there are people who just…don’t wear makeup. Makeup and hair are such a huge part of my life, even if I don’t leave the house, even if I am alone in the house. This could indicate a vanity problem. I embrace my vanity problem. I feel like my vanity problem is actual self-care.
  • Five Star Podcasts: Podcasts are as subjective as books, and there are so many that I feel like there is something for everyone. I am a person who likes to listen to lighthearted, chatty podcasts mixed in with the occasional science or health one. This year I started listening to The Deep Dive, and never have I felt so seen. As mentioned above, I am a vain person, but the ladies on the Deep Dive like to talk about “working from the outside in,” saying that sometimes, if you work on your physical appearance, it can make your inner self feel better. It’s very tongue-in-cheek and I am here for it. I love how they start with a topic like nail polish, and suddenly it becomes a deep and soulful discussion about caring for yourself. Another podcast I love is Were You Raised By Wolves, which is just delightful and tackles problems of modern etiquette in the most entertaining way. I know what you’re thinking: a podcast about modern etiquette? Yes. A limited-run podcast that I loved was Wilder, about Laura Ingalls Wilder – there was nothing new or surprising to us true, hardcore fans, but it was so great to listen to.
  • Five Star Friends: Sometimes I cannot believe how incredibly fortunate I am to have so many wonderful friends in my life. This year was a very stressful one, full of change and worry, and my beautiful friends have helped me so much. The Calgary friends who sent me off with much love, the friend who offered to be the point person there during the chaos of the move, our friends who hosted my husband for weeks when he had to go back to finish work, the friends who all called to check in on me when I was at a breaking point, my Kelowna friends who welcomed me with open arms and helped ease the transition on so many levels, everyone who sent cards and gifts and bookmarks, friends who wrote to me and supported me through this blog. I honestly do not know how I would have gotten through all this change and turmoil without you, and I don’t think I can ever thank you enough. You’re the best. xo

Wrapped, Rapped, Rapt

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Last Friday I woke up to the lightest dusting of SNOW, and people, I do not think I have ever been so excited by such a meteorological event. The first snow, IN DECEMBER! This is incredible to me, and also it felt so special and festive, even if it didn’t even cover the grass and disappeared by mid-morning. It snowed lightly throughout the weekend, though, so I may be able to use my new skis very soon!

I spent many hours last week grocery shopping and wrapping gifts and packing parcels to be mailed. So many hours, people. Any week that I visit Costco AND Superstore is going to feel exhausting, in the grocery shopping department, but whoa nelly. I think I’ve mentioned before that the Kelowna Costco is the busiest in Canada and second-busiest in North America, right behind the one in Maui. How they measure this I do not know, but having visited both many times I believe it. In any case, this past week it seemed worse than usual, in that it was almost impossible to move the cart as there were people literally everywhere, and then the lineup went two-thirds of the length of the store. She died the way she lived, standing in line at Costco. On the plus side, I had a nice conversation with two ladies, one with regards to the giant stuffed bear in her cart. Have you seen those? One bear fills an entire cart and costs $150; she was telling me that it was for her grandchildren but that she kind of wanted to keep it for herself. This was extremely understandable. “Touch it!” she said to me a little intensely, but I did as she said.

The other lady was also very intense, about the role of ingredient substitutes such as artificial sweeteners or keto-friendly bread in our society. I didn’t disagree with her opinions – after all, I myself am not a fan of those or meat substitutes – but her level of disapproval was, shall we say, heightened. Costco shopping can be a fraught time, emotions run high.

I generally like all manner of holiday-related jobs, such as baking or treat-making or decorating or what have you, but there is one festive job that is at the very bottom of my list, and that is gift-wrapping. I strongly dislike gift-wrapping, possibly because I am so abjectly terrible at it. I might be the worst gift-wrapper over the age of five. I don’t know why I am so bad, but I am: I’m always cutting the paper too big or too small, and then I am trying to either repair the gaping strip where the ends don’t meet or, alternately, folding up huge wads of paper on the sides. There is no in-between. I use far too much tape and somehow I always manage to tape strands of my own hair onto the gift itself; perhaps the stress of wrapping makes my hair fall out, I don’t know. And this is if the gift is in a box, which is the best-case scenario. If it’s irregularly shaped, forget about it. You might be thinking to yourself gift bags exist, which, indeed they do, but we are tear-open-the-gift-wrap people around here, and I also have four rolls of Costco wrapping paper purchased years ago and I still haven’t used them up. I might take them to my grave at this rate, the grave I’m working myself into by standing in line buying such things as giant rolls of Costco wrapping paper.

Anyway, one of the best things about having a newly-retired husband is that I can delegate such jobs to him, and he is happy to do them. I can’t outsource all my wrapping to him, though, which means all the gifts directed to him will be a jumble of wrapping paper and tape.

I don’t know how you get through the various drudgeries of your day, like gift-wrapping, but I mostly listen to music or podcasts. Spotify Wrapped came out this week and it turns out that I, as my friend Nicole said (HI NICOLE), am an actual teenager.

You guys. I am in the TOP ONE PERCENT OF SPOTIFY LISTENERS. Now, in my defense I did spend many hours this year packing and cleaning and moving and unpacking, but still. 93,784 minutes is a lot of minutes. My peak day was July 18, which checks out. That was moving day and I drove eight hours listening to podcasts, then spent another couple of hours unpacking the car and organizing things, so 643 minutes sounded about right.

I’m always a bit surprised when Spotify Wrapped comes out, to see what my top song was. For several years running it was, inexplicably, Midnight Train to Georgia, but this year it was Dog and Butterfly by Heart. Who could have guessed? Certainly not me.

The interesting thing about my top artists is that Wilson Phillips made it in there. There is only one song that I listen to of theirs, and that is Hold On. I feel like that says a lot about my mental state for the first half of the year. I had no idea I listened to that much TLC, but otherwise, I’m not terribly surprised.

I seem to be missing something in my brain – probably because it’s filled up with song lyrics – that allows me to create any kind of visual art. If, for example, you asked me to draw a car or a dog, I would be completely unable to. It would almost seem as if I had never in my life seen a car or a dog, but had only received a verbal description. Here’s a…tire? A dog has…a tail? It’s really bad and probably somewhat related to my inability to wrap gifts with any kind of normalcy. This past weekend we went to a party and I was asked to bring a veggie plate. My beautiful friend Sammi (HI SAMMI) sent me a few photos of Christmassy veggie plates, to see if I wanted to try to recreate one. I was a little nervous – as I said, this is not my forte – but after looking at the photos, and with strong encouragement from my husband, who suggested I try the absolute easiest one, I did it!

My husband, thankfully, made the star. I know I’ve seen a star shape but…?

Weekly Reading

I had a DNF this week; it was I Have Some Questions For You. I had started reading the e-book in September, and it just wasn’t captivating me, and I ended up not finishing it by the time it was due back at the library; I put it back on hold and thought I would finish it later. Well, it came in this past week and after another chapter or two I thought life is too short and I cannot waste any more time on this. This could be because I had just finished the below book.

The Invitation. By the time I got to this book, I was on a four-book meh streak. I thought this might break the streak; it’s a story about a woman in a loveless marriage having a one-night stand, and then the two lovers being inadvertently thrown together on a yacht in 1950s. Friends, it did not break the streak. Five meh books in a row.

You Could Make This Place Beautiful. Finally! The streak of meh books was broken! Thank god. I don’t think I could have taken another one (my DNF was right before this one). Anyway, I loved this author’s earlier book, Keep Moving. I read it in the thick of the pandemic and whoa nelly, did it ever resonate. What I didn’t know (or maybe I forgot?) is that she wrote Keep Moving while going through an absolutely terrible divorce, and this book, You Could Make This Place Beautiful, is about that divorce. Her prose is absolutely gorgeous and can I just say that a toxic marriage and dreadful divorce make for very good writing material – as one of her friends said, at least you’re a writer so all this material isn’t wasted. Isn’t that a silver lining? I love dark humour and I loved this book. 

Shelley: Also Known As Shirley. I first read this book in 1987; I was at my grandparents’ house, bored, and helped myself to my grandma’s paperback collection in the basement. I had never seen or heard of any movie Shelley Winters had been in, and in fact I didn’t even know who Shelley Winters WAS. But I have always been interested in women’s and girls’ stories only, and this was one of the few books about a woman. Well! You can see how many times I read this book over the years, because it completely fell apart. I haven’t read it for a long time though, and so I thought I’d revisit it to see how it holds up. IT HOLDS UP! This is one juicy autobiography, and wow, did she ever live an interesting life! As a child she lived in tenements in Brooklyn; when she was about nine her father’s haberdashery shop burned down and he went to prison in Sing Sing for arson. It was a wrongful conviction, so he got out after about a year but sunk into a deep depression. By the time Shelley (then Shirley) was 14 she dropped out of school, got her working papers, and organized a strike at the Woolworth’s she worked at, which led to all the Woolworth’s in the five boroughs being unionized! She became a model, acted in Broadway and off-Broadway plays, was discovered by Harry Cohn and ended up in Hollywood. Oh, and she got married to a man who was in the air force. He came home from the war and they got divorced, and this all happened by the time she was NINETEEN. If that wasn’t enough, she had so many interesting friendships and affairs, going on a publicity tour to Europe while engaged to a costar, and ended up meeting and marrying Italy’s biggest star, Vittorio Gassman while she was there. Later they had an absolutely explosive divorce while starring in an Italian film. This book HAS IT ALL. Wow, what a fun, star-studded read!

I know I talk about Costco with exasperation a lot, but here’s where it pays off: it’s kalette season again! I consider myself to be an unpaid Kalette Influencer; if you see them, just know that they are a life-changing vegetable that is here for a good time, not a long time. So have a good time, the kalettes won’t shine every day! xo