Monthly Archives: November 2024

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Travelling Light Edition

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It’s been three weeks since we got home from Italy, and the whole trip feels like a dream.

We had a little extra time in Monterosso al Mare, a tiny town in Cinque Terre, before our boat left to take us back to Manarola, so we and our guide wandered around, poking into little shops. I was specifically looking for Christmas ornaments, but I stopped when I saw a display of gnomes or, as they are called in Italy, gnomi. The gnomes were embroidered with thing like I Love My Cat and Best Grandma, all in Italian. As I started to turn away, one caught my eye:

FRIENDS. I hysterically showed my husband, who assumed that it was part of a display with names from Abby to Zachary, but NO. This was the only named gnome in the entire display and, possibly, in the entire town. I don’t know how or why but it is not for me to question fate.

We didn’t bring home many souvenirs; along with the Nicole Gnome (Gnicole Gnome?) we bought a few gifts for the boys and a couple of tiny Christmas ornaments. We were very limited on space as we had decided to continue our Carryon Only tradition, which was a definite choice for three weeks away. By nature I am not much of a light traveller, but I have become one. In fact, I viewed the whole trip as a challenge, and in the end it felt like my very limited selection of clothing was actually kind of freeing.

I wore a fleece dress on the plane and packed two t-shirt-style dresses, along with a pair of jeans and pants, four tops – two short-sleeved, two long – and a sweater. I wore boots on the plane and packed a pair of shoes, and that, along with socks, compression stockings, and underwear, made up the entirety of my wardrobe for three weeks.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Pack Light Edition

Backpack, Backpack

Once we were in Italy, we traveled almost exclusively by train or on foot, and to that end we didn’t want to be dragging around wheeled suitcases on cobblestone streets. We splurged on carryon sized backpacks that had extra safety precautions in place, like interlocking zippers and clips, to foil any would-be pickpocketers. This turned out to be a brilliant idea. In addition to cobblestones, there were so many uneven paved surfaces, stairs, and – in the case of Siena’s train station – series of escalators, and having backpacks made travel so easy. They were pretty heavy and not super comfortable, and I think the most we walked with them without a break was about two kilometres, so they wouldn’t be ideal for a major backpacking trip. However, they were perfect for our purposes, although they were smaller than regular carryon suitcases, meaning that I had to be extra efficient with packing. I also took a medium-sized crossbody bag to use as a purse.

Cubism

I have been a fan of packing cubes for a couple of years now, but Elisabeth (HI ELISABETH) introduced me to the concept of compression packing cubes, and wow, did they ever make a difference. I was able to squeeze all of this into my backpack; it was not effortless, but I did it!

The Laundry Never Ends, Even In Italy

There is just no way to pack enough socks and panties to last for a three week trip. Well, there is, but not in a way that is conducive to using only carryon luggage. These detergent strips work pretty well for bathroom-sink-laundry; it’s easy to just tear off a small piece, and it dissolves quickly. I personally prefer a more scented detergent, but this got the job done.

Face It

Typically when it comes to makeup I am an Ilia Super Serum Skin Tint gal, but that product does not travel well. The bottle always seems to leak, and the last thing I wanted was a bunch of Bom Bom coloured serum all over my liquids bag. Yes, the colour I use is called Bom Bom, what of it?

Anyway, since I was limited on liquids, and I wanted to bring little containers of my favourite Prose hair products, I needed to be efficient. I was looking for something that would be a primer, sunscreen, moisturizer, and makeup all in one, which is a pretty tall order. To that end, I headed to Shopper’s and was immediately accosted by a gorgeous Estee Lauder representative named Olga who bossed me into trying their Futurist Hydra Rescue.

Let me tell you, friends, Olga knew what she was doing. This stuff is incredible; it’s moisturizing, has great coverage, lasts all day, and has an SPF 45. She took one look at me and assessed my colour, and when I poked at another tube on the display, she said No! This is perfect shade for you. And you know what, she was right.

This product is even more expensive than Ilia, which I think is plenty pricey, but it really goes a long way volumetrically. Olga showed me how little I needed – A drop! You need only a drop! More than that, you look like clown. – and again, she was right. Most of my trip was spent outside in the sunshine, and my skin stayed dewy and protected, with JUST A DROP.

Totes Cute

When I was sixteen, I was in Rome on a school trip, and let me tell you, it was a blast. My friend Danna (HI DANNA) and I were the recipients of a LOT of male attention, being cute sixteen-year-old girls and all. Truthfully more attention was focused on Danna, with her beautiful Nordic features and waist-length blonde hair, but everywhere we were, we heard “Ciao, bella!” It became our catchphrase.

I saw tourists walking around with tote bags all over Italy, emblazoned with pictures of landmarks and, yes, of David and his penis. I think it’s kind of tacky to use a Rome tote bag while in Rome, but I knew I would want this for my daily life when I got home. It folded up well so I could semi-easily squeeze it into my very packed luggage. Did I really need another tote bag? No! But it’s really sturdy and it has a zipper on top, which feels handy. It’s the perfect size for library hauls, but most of all, I like walking around announcing Ciao Bella to the world.

Spritz and Soup

Here’s the most obvious statement one could possibly make: the food in Italy is divine. Everything is absolutely delicious and, strangely, reasonably priced. I partook in so many amazing meals, and most of them consisted of pasta and wine.

One thing I hadn’t tried prior to our trip was an Aperol spritz, which is possibly the most deliciously refreshing beverage one could consume. And consume them I did!

My husband bought Aperol and prosecco so we can make these at home. Now, will they taste as good as the ones in Italy? It’s doubtful. But I am a Determined Woman and I will Give It A Try.

A non-pasta comestible I became obsessed with was pappa di pomodoro, a Tuscan soup made with tomato and – wait for it – stale bread. Does it sound weird? Yes. Is it incredibly delicious and do I wish I could be transported back to Tuscany to eat it? Also yes! I did attempt to make this at home, but it was like the time I tried rice milk ice cream: sadness in food form. My husband suggested I drink half a bottle of Chianti and then try my homemade pappa di pomodoro in order to accurately compare the two, but no. I’m just going to hold the savoury soupy memory of it in my heart.

Outfit of the Month

You know I wasn’t going to leave you hanging after telling you what I packed for the trip! I got so much wear out of this black tee dress THAT HAS POCKETS, and as a bonus I wore it with my full-length compression hose on days where we’d be standing a lot. After years of having only thick beige compression hose, I finally sprung for a couple of pair of black ones which just look like regular tights. Those boots are Sorels; they are unlined rain boots and they really go with so many different outfits.

I brought along my favourite blanket scarf, and of all the things I packed, this was the item that was used the least. We had really warm temperatures everywhere except Venice, and we were given blankets on the plane, so I didn’t really need it. Still, it looks cute with the dress.

November has just flown by, what with the trip, and catching up from the trip, and having a semi-breakdown about the postal strike, but here we are in the holiday season! What are your favourite things right now? Tell me everything. xo

Seasonal Specialties

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It’s that time again!

Did I scream a little in delight at seeing them in Costco? Yes I did. Did the woman who was looking at them curiously step away in low-key alarm? Yes she did. No matter. Kalette season is absolutely glorious, and those little cruciferous treats are a glowing light in the darkness.

It’s November. We live in Canada. I said that at Sunday dinner and my older son looked at me with a forced neutral expression. Facts? he said, but I wasn’t stating the obvious for no reason. I was commenting on the very low number of daylight hours right now – and it’s only going to get lower! – no matter where one is in the geographic time zone. Right now the sun sets at 4:02 pm, which means that the world is dusky around three and completely pitch black by five. Until I moved here I had never experienced precipitation in November as anything other than snow, the musical stylings of Guns and Roses notwithstanding. However, in addition to the super-early darkness, it’s been very drizzly and grey over the past couple of weeks. What I’m saying is that I’m leaning in to coziness and light.

As an aside, a few weeks ago my friend Cara (HI CARA) mentioned that Axl Rose is an anagram, after which I read Long Island Compromise, so it feels like the Baader Meinhof effect is in full force.

We are not much of a Soup Family; I make soup at most four to six times a year. I know! I know. But we just aren’t a family of soup lovers. However, I had a baguette left over from Big Salad Night, and so I whipped up some roasted butternut squash soup – using one of my many garden offerings – and topped it with crispy roasted lentils. It was so warming and cozy.

When the guys were looking for gift suggestions for me, I brought up a cookbook that I thought was interesting, to which they responded Why? You never use cookbooks. It’s true. I free-style almost everything, including that soup, and it generally turns out well. But cookbooks are so pretty to look at!

Speaking of recipes, some of you may have noticed that my Soul, Food recipe index is no longer functioning. Longtime readers will remember that I had a weekly recipe column on the YMC website from 2013-2017. Erica, the website owner, recently retired and I did not realize this would mean that the entire site would be shut down and four years’ worth of weekly recipes would be lost to the ether, forever. I am practicing non-attachment.

One of the most popular was a recipe I make only once annually, and that is my grandma’s gingersnaps. I baked up a batch this weekend, which felt wonderfully cozy and festive. If you too wish to have six or seven dozen gingersnaps at your disposal, cream together 1 cup each of soft butter and molasses, add 1 cup of brown sugar and 1 1/4 cup white sugar (yes, it is a lot of sugar, these are cookies, let’s all settle down). Add 2 eggs and 1 tablespoon of vanilla; once that is all blended together mix in 2 teaspoons of baking soda, 2 1/2 teaspoons of ground ginger, and 4 cups of flour. At this point I put the mixing bowl in the fridge for a couple of hours, and then when I’m ready to bake I roll the dough into one-inch balls, rolling each of the balls in white sugar to coat. Bake – ON PARCHMENT PAPER-LINED COOKIE SHEETS, DO NOT SKIP THIS STEP – at 375 degrees, or 350 convection. I like a really chewy cookie so I bake them for eight to ten minutes maximum, but if you want a typical snappy gingersnap, bake a few minutes longer.

I MAY have snapped at my husband and son for snapping up gingersnaps before I snapped a photo.

The coziest, most seasonal news of all is that as of yesterday, the tree is up! I love our insane mishmash of holiday ornaments and decorations. What we lack in artistic cohesiveness, we make up in pure nostalgia and happiness. In the next few weeks, the sun will be setting before 4:00, but the holiday glow is enough for me.

Weekly Reading

I Hope This Finds You Well. Last week I mentioned my strange run of books that dealt with premature death and its devastating aftermath, and said that I needed to read something light. When this popped up on my holds list, I thought perfect. It’s billed as a “wildly funny, heart-warming office comedy.” Sometimes I think there is something vastly wrong with me because books that are marketed as “laugh out loud” funny never are to me, whereas I was crying with laughter while reading Long Island Compromise. Anyway, I think it’s a huge disservice to bill this book as a comedy because it really isn’t – it deals with trauma, depression, alcohol abuse, drug abuse, domestic abuse, infidelity, child neglect – although there are very heart-warming moments. Jolene is a traumatized, socially awkward, anxious woman who discovers through a glitch in her computer that a) her office mates are all talking about her behind her back, and b) there are layoffs coming down the pipe and she might be one of them. So it’s kind of the socially anxious person’s nightmare. It’s office politics with grown-up mean girls. There are some great messages in here: the people in your life are important, everyone has things they are dealing with, opening your heart to people leads to better understanding and friendships. Also, you know I love championing female Canadian authors, particularly debut authors, and this author is from Calgary! The book takes place in Calgary, and there are all sorts of place references in which I was saying “I know where that is! I know where that is!” and the company is “Supershops” which seems to be a play on Superstore, also a place of which I am very familiar. I love that, even if I didn’t love this book.

Margo’s Got Money Troubles. Another book that was very different than I thought it would be – but in this case, it was in a brilliant way. The plot synopsis sounds like this is a zany raunchy comedy: at nineteen, Margo finds herself pregnant by her college professor, who wants nothing to do with the baby that she decides to keep. Her mother, an ex-Hooters waitress now in a relationship with a super-religious guy, is not supportive but her father, an ex-pro wrestler, is. He moves in at the same time Margo loses her job and realizes that she had no plan for childcare or income after the baby was born. What to do? Well, what she decides to do is to start an Only Fans account, taking advice from her dad on how to create a character and market herself. Sounds like a silly romp, right? But it’s one of the most thoughtful, fascinating, ultimately heart-warming book. It’s so witty and smart, and the writing on a line level is frankly brilliant. It IS very funny, but subtly so, and the author makes a really interesting stylistic choice: sometimes it is in the first person, sometimes in the third person, depending on Margo’s feelings about the subject at hand. When she goes into the third person, it’s when Margo wants to view her younger self with love and compassion, and it’s just so powerful. As a reader, it’s a very meta experience as the book explores character development in entertainment, making it feel like we are breaking the fourth wall in a way. I had an extra jolt of enjoyment because of the pro wrestling thing: as we all know, the males in the Boyhouse are all well-versed in that world, and I had some great discussions with my younger son, as he gave me more information on different wrestlers that were mentioned in the book, their characters and backstories. It really added to the experience. As a whole, it’s an intersection between the Madonna and the Whore, it’s a commentary on women’s autonomy over their own bodies, it highlights how society views young mothers and sex workers, and it asks the question as to what is a good life, and who is entitled to it? Every character is complex and nuanced. It’s a really brilliant book. Here is a quote that left me breathless: People are all so lonely. Even when they do horrible things, if often comes down to that, if only you take the time to understand them. It seemed like that should mean the world could be better, that people could help each other, like Jesus said. And yet that’s not what happens. That hardly ever seems to happen at all. Also this: I had always thought that love was supposed to come from other people, and somehow, I was failing to catch the crumbs of it, failing to eat them, and I went around belly empty and desperate. I didn’t know the love was supposed to come from within me, and that as long as I loved others, the strength and warmth of that love would fill me, make me strong. I mean. Does it get better than that?

Speaking of things that couldn’t be better, Rex allowed me to dress him up festively, only going through three stages of grief: depression, bargaining, and acceptance.

Happy last week of November, friends. I hope you have a week full of light and coziness. xo

Five For Friday: The Costume Change Edition

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Typically, I go through what the Edies would call four Costume Changes a day, which might seem excessive, but I don’t see any way around this. But this week, on Wednesday, I had FIVE Costume Changes, which felt like a perfect topic for today. However, my main motivation for this post was something that I will probably talk about at more length later, and that is that as much as I love clothes, as much as I love Costume Changes, I and my perimenopausal body have been experiencing a bit of a wardrobe crisis of late. As you know, I am a firm proponent of feeling good in my clothes at all times: if I don’t feel beautiful, or at least really cute, then the clothes are wrong. This has been a bit harder to swallow lately, so I decided to record my Wednesday Costume Changes to rediscover my love of clothes.

  • Costume Change #1: The Workout Outfit. The first outfit of the day is for my yoga practice, followed by a Peloton spin class and strength workout. It consists of a yoga tank and crops, plus a tee since it’s chilly in the mornings. Since the house is asleep at this time, I had to rely on the one full-length mirror in the house, the one beside the guys’ squat rack. I don’t know how to move the bar, which hits at face height when I’m standing, so hence the awkward posture. Also I don’t know how to take a good mirror selfie, which explains the maniacal facial expression.

Listen, I’m a sweaty gal. When I work out I am dripping, and my clothes could actually be wrung out, which leads us to…

  • Costume Change #2: The Dog Walking Outfit. Obviously I can’t leave the house in wet clothes, because a) it’s gross, b) it’s cold, and c) I have some semblance of dignity and self-worth. It’s also chilly in the mornings, so in addition to a fresh yoga tank and pants, I have on a sweatshirt, leg warmers, a bum warmer, winter jacket, toque, and mittens. I also have brand new Timberland boots that are so comfy and warm. As a note, my older son said admiringly, You got Tims! and I, Canadian cool girl that I am, wondered why he was talking about Tim Hortons. TIMBERLANDS. They are cool, you guys, university student approved. I’m not a regular mom. I’m a cool mom!
  • Costume Change #3: The Regular Life Outfit. On Wednesday I wanted to accomplish exactly two things: a Superstore grocery shop, and 1500 words on my novel’s second draft. I got both of those things done in this sweater and jean combination. These (non-Timberland) boots and puffer jacket are perfect for Kelowna November: the temperatures are just north of zero, and this outerwear is warm but not overly so.

Anyone who knows me will be alarmed to see that single banana on the countertop behind me. I know! That’s why I was heading to Superstore! Not to worry, this is what it looks like now:

  • Costume Change #4: Girl’s Night OUT! Listen, it’s pretty rare and remarkable for me to go out on a Wednesday night, but the Squad and I were going for dinner and to see the community theatre production of The Golden Girls – The Laughs Continue. We all know how I feel about the Golden Girls! Not one of us realized until we were actually there that it was a drag show. Wait a minute…I think that’s a man was the thought that went through my mind after the show started. Wait a minute…I think they’re all men! Again, not a regular mom. A cool mom. I don’t like to judge based on appearances, but if I did, I would say that at least 80% of the audience also didn’t realize it was a drag show. Well, lots of laughs had by the Squad, and it was a great excuse to wear a dress and heeled boots.
  • Costume Change #5: Stop! Pajama Time. I always wear a coordinated pair of pajamas, and it’s the holiday season, which calls for festive jammies. My husband gave me these for Christmas last year along with matching socks.

Speaking of perimenopause, my feet don’t get cold anymore like they used to, but I like to apply foot cream at night, and wearing socks helps to absorb it. Also, I don’t like leaving lotion footprints, nor slipping on the floor, so the socks stay on until I’m actually in bed.

I hope you all have a fabulous, fashionable weekend! xo

Smash That Subscribe Button

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Back when the kids were in elementary school, my favourite fundraiser – even considering my eight solid years running the Scholastic Book Fair twice annually – was the magazine fundraiser. I loved choosing magazine subscriptions and I loved the getting the happy little surprise in the mail a couple times a month.

The mail! Sob. Canada Post is currently on strike and I am just hoping it gets resolved soon. All my holiday cards are ready to go when the strike is over (GODSPEED), but in the meantime, last week pre-strike I mailed several (non-David-penis) postcards, and I have honestly no clue where they are in the mail process. If you receive one, will you please let me know?

Anyway. Back in the day I had quite a few magazine subscriptions and I loved flipping through the glossy pages. I still have pages of recipes I tore out of Canadian Living and I would incorporate interesting postures from Yoga Journal into my classes. My mother-in-law gifted me a subscription to O Magazine for my birthday for over a decade, which is a lot of What I Know For Sure. That is where I got the idea for Nicole’s Favourite Things. I’m just like Oprah! Except for a few small differences.

Of course I don’t subscribe to print magazines anymore – who does? – but I realized that I do have a lot of subscriptions in lieu of that: podcasts, newsletters, and, of course, blogs. Every once in a while I will do a housecleaning to unsubscribe from such things that no longer interest me or bring me joy. I was doing this the other day – why does Substack automatically sign you up for newsletters you may be interested in? I’m not! Why did I think that podcast that spirals me into despair was a good idea? It isn’t! – when I started thinking about subscriptions I actually pay for. There is a lot of free content out there, but there are a few things that I value enough to pay money for.

O-oooohhh Listen To The Music

As a family we have the paid plan for Spotify, and it is worth every penny. Sometimes I think of Teenage Nicole with her tape recorder, trying to catch songs on the radio to record mix tapes. There would always be some DJ chatter before or after the song, or the entire opening bars would be missed completely as I scrambled to record. I had mix tapes made from friends’ cassettes or, in some cases, vinyl albums, and the sound quality would be just as good as one could expect. If someone told Teenage Nicole that she would spend her forties listening to any song she wanted, no matter how obscure, no matter how niche, no matter how, frankly, weird, at any time, well. Teenage Nicole would have been thrilled.

In addition to that, I allow myself one, and one only, Patreon subscription to a podcast. My rules for choosing this podcast are threefold: it must be independently produced, it must have bonus content for Patreon subscribers, and it must be something that actively makes my life better. Currently, this subscription belongs to Forever 35, but before that, it was Gen X, This Is Why, which I only stopped subscribing to because they ended the podcast.

Content With The Content

I really believe that writers should be paid for their work, but also, a person could go broke paying for all the good content out there. I have a number of free subscriptions to Substack newsletters, but I pay for two: Laura Bray’s The Cozy Library, and the Fug Girls’ Drinks With Broads.

I have been a Laura Stan for many years now – her writing is so gorgeous, and you must, you MUST sign up for her newsletter, at the very least her free edition – and I am lucky enough that she is now not only a good friend of mine, but also an inspirational writing partner!

As for the Fug Girls, I have loved their fashion commentary and celebrity gossip for years, but they offer a lot of bonus content for paid subscribers, including deep dives into weird vintage cookbooks and tours through really obscure museum gift shops. In other words, content that is right up my alley.

Language, People

Time has no meaning anymore and so I can’t tell you how long ago, exactly, my son and I upgraded to the paid family plan for Duolingo, but I am currently on a 994 day streak with 65 weeks in the Diamond League, so I’m guessing it’s probably a couple of years ago. But how worth it that upgrade was! I spent six months prior to our trip to Italy learning Italian, which came in very handy. I refreshed my high school French before we went to Quebec, and I can now converse (albeit slowly) in Spanish. I don’t follow anyone on Duolingo except my son, so that he and I can go on “quests” together each week. Bonding!

Beauty…

Speaking of quests, I have been on a lifelong one for Hair Happiness. I could probably employ a therapist for a significant amount of time just to talk about hair issues, but instead I use that money for a couple of hair-related subscriptions that have improved my life immeasurably: Nutrafol and Prose. I’ve talked at length about Nutrafol and I will say this: in 2022, I was in a very low emotional state about my thinning hair and bald spots. I mean, obviously! No woman wants to go bald! But since starting the supplement I have had so much less hair shedding, and a lot of hair growth. It really worked for me and I wish they would sponsor this blog because it is expensive. Worth it! But expensive. I have a six-month subscription because, being in Canada, I have to pay for shipping and this way I am only charged for it twice annually.

I just had a sudden feeling of panic: Nutrafol comes via Canada Post. Pardon me while I go do some ujjayi breathing and reassure myself that the strike will be over by the time my next subscription comes. Breathe. Breathe.

Anyway. I also have a subscription to Prose hair products, which I love. I also love that I can pause the subscription or change the amount of time between deliveries, depending on how fast or slow I’m going through them. For someone who is very, very sensitive about her hair, these two product lines have been life-changing.

…and The Beast

Sometimes I feel low-level guilt that Barkley was the recipient of fancy, all-natural dog food that I had to pick up in a specialty store, whereas Rex gets Purina One. What can I say? Rex is almost 100 pounds and goes through five cups of dog food a day, to Barkley’s one and a half, which certainly factors into the decision. Well. I never once brushed Barkley’s teeth nor did I walk him for ninety minutes a day, so I guess things even out.

Because Rex goes through so much food I buy the 14 kilogram bags, which last about six weeks. Because of their awkward size and shape, I find them nearly impossible to lift and maneuver into a grocery cart. Once I tried to heave the bag into the bottom of a Superstore cart, and ended up accidentally launching the cart – sans dog food – down the aisle. I now use the subscribe-and-save function at Amazon; I don’t have to think about it, the food is always available, and I only have to drag it to the pantry if no one else is home to lift it.

Weekly Reading

Long Island Compromise. The very first thing you have to know is something I discovered about 1/4 of the way through the book: “Long Island Compromise” is a euphemism for “doing it up the butt.” What a wild title, and yet it is so appropriate, as basically everyone in this book is getting fucked up the ass, mostly figuratively, but also in some cases literally. The second thing you have to know is that this book is a work of art. I can’t remember the last time I read something that is such a statement about society without being a tiresome bore of a lecture. This book MOVES, and the characterizations are all so incredible. I could not tell from one page to the next where it was going to go. It starts out with the kidnapping and subsequent return of a Jewish family’s patriarch, and the remainder of the book deals with the fallout from that one-week incident. It deals with wealth and inherited wealth, trauma and inherited trauma, class, secrets, and viciously brutal choices and decisions. At first glance this book is about the old adage about wealth-building, in that “the first generation builds the house, the second generation lives in the house, and the third generation burns the house down.” But it’s so much more than that. Plus, it is hysterically funny; a few times I laughed so much my husband thought I was reading David Sedaris. I cannot say enough how much I adored this book. It’s absolutely brilliant. Big thanks to the beautiful and talented Suzanne (HI SUZANNE) for getting me to bump this book up on my TBR, and for being amenable with all my messages about it (Suzanne, omg, it means doing it up the butt!).

After Annie. This was a moving story about the year following the sudden, early death of a woman, and how the new world is navigated by her husband, four children, and best friend. It was well-written and compelling, but whoa, I have read way too many books lately that deal with the aftermath of untimely death. I think this is my fifth in less than a month. Time for something light, or, at the very least, something that does not discuss the devastation that results from a person dying prematurely and unexpectedly.

I have a pretty fun and exciting week ahead of me: it’s Full On Festive Season around here, and so the tree is going up, I have a very fun outing with the girls, and holiday baking and treat making has officially started. Yesterday I baked a warm gingerbread cake with caramel sauce, and it was absolutely perfect – the recipe was from my friend Julie’s cake cookbook (HI JULIE). My son very kindly reminded me that I have had this book for almost two years now and STILL haven’t made every recipe, as I have vowed to do. I’ll get there! One cake at a time. I hope you all have a delicious, festive week. xo

The Books I Read On Vacation: Italy 2024

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As a general rule I vastly prefer paper books to an e-reader, but when it comes to travel, I am devoted to my Kobo. It’s just so brilliant; I can take many books with me, without taking up any luggage space. I had been happily curating my library hold list so that my Kobo would be populated with books with a variety of expiry dates. I had it perfectly planned.

One week before we left there was a huge cybersecurity breach at the Calgary Public Library. My Kobo is linked to my old Calgary card, and suddenly I couldn’t access the account. To this day, the library hasn’t recovered; apparently all the CPL branches are currently analog, with old-school paper due date slips and stamps, and the online system remains down.

Fortunately, Libby was still working and I was still – eventually – able to download books, but I learned something important: my Kobo will work with one library card and one library card only. Since I already had several books downloaded from the Calgary system, I nervously kept things as-is, and hoped for the best.

Another thing I learned about travelling with a Kobo: if there is a problem, you’re fucked. Well, “fucked.” We were at the Rome airport, ready to return home, and my Kobo froze. I couldn’t select books. I couldn’t change screens. I couldn’t even power it down. I was looking down the barrel of five hours of airport time plus eleven hours of air travel with no reading material.

My husband pried my Kobo out of my panicking hands and, looking down the barrel of dealing with me with no reading material for sixteen hours, bossily told me to just go buy a goddamn book! I grumpily went to the little airport kiosk, found their English section, and spent fifteen euro on a book I didn’t really want but was the best available option. WASTED fifteen euro, I should say, because by the time I returned to my husband with the book, he had somehow managed to power it off and back on. I stared at the blinking screen, manifesting, and ended up with a perfectly functioning Kobo for the remainder of the trip, along with a book that is currently sitting on my bookshelf, unread.

My husband told me it was not a waste at all, instead, it was an insurance policy against such a thing happening on the flight.

The tl;dr of this is that I managed to read a lot of books while in transit. Some were great! Some, not so much.

The Books I Read On Vacation

Three Apples Fell From The Sky. I did enjoy this fable about a tiny Armenian village, with all the friendships and foes and interesting lives, but I think it could have really benefited from a listing of the characters. There were so many characters and they were all intertwined in a complicated way – I kept getting confused as to who was who and how they were related. It also jumps into a lot of flashbacks, so I wasn’t totally clear on what time period I was reading about at any given time. Still, a charming and sweet read.

Summer of ’79. Okay, I got this on my Kobo so I don’t even know if this is a proper book or not. This short, cute, quick read is an addendum to the book Summer of 69, which I haven’t read, but that didn’t really matter. It wasn’t hard to follow, but I probably would have enjoyed it more had I read the first. It’s a fun read filled with 70s fashion and pop culture references, which sealed the deal for me.

In Love. This was a very sad memoir, about a woman whose husband wanted to die by medically assisted suicide after his Alzheimer’s diagnosis. It was a very sad description of the search to do so as well as an exploration of his decline. Woof. It was rough to read, and it really made me think we need to do better for people in this situation, on every level.

The Authenticity Project. “Everyone lies about their lives. What would happen if you shared the truth instead?” So asks The Authenticity Project, a little notebook that makes its way around a group of people leaving friendship, love, and self-acceptance in its wake. This is a truly charming and heart warming story about friendship and love, bringing together an unlikely cast of characters. What a good read! Thanks to my dear friend Nicole (HI NICOLE) who always knows what I like to read.

Under The Tuscan Sun. What could be more appropriate, I thought, than reading this book while I’m in Tuscany? I thought this would be a wonderful romance, and then on discovering it’s basically a memoir, I imagined it would be similar to the very delightful A Year In Provence. Friends, how wrong I was. This book about a couple buying and renovating a property in Tuscany, though lyrically written, is incredibly boring. I desperately wanted to DNF but I forced myself to finish because I AM IN TUSCANY DAMMIT. But alas. There are some good food descriptions but otherwise this was a snore. I did enjoy reading about flying in the 90s, when you could bring whole bottles of olive oil in your carryon. That, my friends, was the highlight of this book. If you’re going to tell me the movie is great, I will believe you, because I looked up the film description and it wasn’t anything at all like the snoozefest I read.

Here After. This author is from Calgary! It is so fun to read about little landmarks and spaces around my old hometown. However, this is not a FUN book, it’s a very sad and vulnerable memoir about a woman whose husband literally dropped dead at age 32. This is a book about grieving and dealing with the shock of a sudden, horrible loss. It is also a tough read, and no, I don’t know why I was reading grief memoirs on a trip of a lifetime to Italy. Well, yes I do, it’s because that’s when the holds came in.

One Of Us Is Lying. Speaking of library holds, I was getting perilously low on reading material, and I still had several train rides and 16 hours of airport and plane transit to get through, so I delved desperately into the “skip the line” loans. This was available, so I downloaded it. But I’m so glad I did. This is a very fun, Agatha Christie meets Breakfast Club story about five teens in detention – and then one of them dies. The remaining teens are under suspicion! But who did it? This was just super fun, and I really enjoyed it.

Abide With Me. I love Elizabeth Strout and how she perfectly captures a certain theme and feeling. This is about a small town minister in the late 50s, who is grieving the sudden loss of his young wife (related: yes, this is a surprising number of books on death and widowhood to be reading). Anyway, as with all Strout’s books there are so many layers to these seemingly simple lives. “This kind of thing gave the women something to look forward to, especially now that the days were shorter and darker, and the boredom of changing sheets or cleaning a bathroom could sometimes mushroom into a private despair before noontime even arrived.” I MEAN. Also, wisdom: “But he thought of George telling him that the ability to receive was as great as the ability to give, and so he simply said thank you.”

Instructions For A Heatwave. It’s the UK heatwave of 1976 and everyone’s losing it a little…especially the recently retired man who just leaves for the day and doesn’t come back. I enjoyed this story of an Irish family living in England, who have secrets and alliances and grudges, but come together to deal with their father’s disappearance. 

In notable news, I watched an entire movie on one of my flights (No you didn’t! my son said. Wait, did you really?). It was a French-Canadian production with subtitles, called Une Femme Respectable. It was not what one might call an action packed movie, and yet I was so invested in it that I GASPED and said “NO, don’t do it!” out loud at one part. I may have been the only person on the entire flight, and maybe on any flight ever, watching it, but I did really enjoy it. This week I started a long-anticipated book and it does NOT disappoint. But I’ll tell you about it next week. xo

The People I Meet On Vacation

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On the very first leg of our journey to Italy, as we settled ourselves into on the plane, three women took their seats in the row in front of us. They were all very attractive and stylish, and approximately ten to twelve years my senior. One of them turned around and informed us that they would be connecting to Rome, on a two week girls’ trip. We are going to Rome too, I began, but it was clear that this woman was interested in monologue, not conversation. She continued to talk, informing me that on her last long-distance flight, she met the Man Of Her Dreams, who was on his way to give a speech to the United Nations. Before I could respond, she said that he hadn’t returned her phone calls yet but that was probably because he was doing medical work in the Amazonian rainforest. The best thing is, she continued, he didn’t wear a wedding ring.

I glanced at her companions, who were silently staring straight ahead.

It was a lot of information to process in ninety seconds, but by the time we landed in Calgary for our connection I had mentally sketched out an outline for a novel based just this conversation, if one could call it a conversation. I also considered my husband, who rarely, if ever, wears his wedding ring. Perhaps the two of us appeared to be on some kind of illicit, Me and Mrs. Jones-style trip of our own.

I love meeting people and learning their stories, and rarely do I get such a complete character sketch in such a short period of time. I always want to know more: where are they going, what are they doing, what are their lives like? I wondered this about the young English woman with a heavy Manchester accent who boarded the Vaporetto in Venice, with the largest wheeled duffle bag I had ever seen. She wore an enormous, but cozy, cream fleece sweatsuit, her ponytail secured with an absolutely gigantic coordinating cream scrunchie. She had two male friends with her and talked incessantly for the entire ride, so of course I listened in. I brought my speaker, she said, patting a small bag by her feet, So we can keep the sound UP. What sound, I wanted to ask, where are you staying that you can do that? That’s a nice place, isn’t it? she suddenly gestured around her. All those green umbrellas. What a specific detail! My head whipped around, looking at all the Venetian buildings, unable to see one green umbrella. What green umbrellas? I missed the green umbrellas!

On our very last day of the trip, we had a small group guided tour of the Pantheon; it was so small, in fact, that it was just us with one other person, Joan, a woman from Boston. This happened to be on the day of the US election, so I asked Joan how she was doing. Ludgio, our guide, listened to our exchange and then said I understand this is a stressful election, but I don’t know why. What is it all about? Joan explained very briefly, and then Ludgio said something that was both astonishing and also kind of refreshing: I have heard the name Donald Trump, but I don’t know anything about him. Talk about ignorance being bliss. IMAGINE. Imagine how wonderful it would be to go through life like that, having never heard that grating voice, having never been exposed to such views! Sure, I’ve heard of the guy, but…

Granted, Ludgio is an Albanian ex-pat living in Italy, who lost all his life savings opening up an art gallery that closed during the pandemic, so it’s not like he was living a life of ease. I’m sure Albania has had its share of political unrest, but I am – maybe blissfully? – ignorant on the topic, as well as on the politics of Italy. Our hotel in Rome was right beside the Italian Parliament building, and every afternoon reporters would be typing away on their laptops, accessing the hotel Wi-Fi. I eavesdropped on their conversations but my Italian is pretty rudimentary, and so I remain ignorant.

Ludgio said something incredibly inspiring, though. He told me that he wakes up every day and has his espresso while looking up the tours he was scheduled to work; he worked to pay his bills and then he came home to paint, have a nice meal, and maybe drink a beer with friends. Anywhere you go, you can live a good life, he said, Just try to live a happy life. I feel like Ludgio had seen some things, and here he was, living his best life, an artist who was making a living talking about art history, while selling paintings on the side.

Ludgio wasn’t the only Albanian we met. In Venice we ate at an Albanian family-owned place, and they were really doing an incredible job for Albanian tourism, if such a thing exists. The only exposure I have had to Albania involves the Alice Munro short story The Albanian Virgin, in which a young Canadian girl sneaks off her cruise ship to take a horseback guided tour, and ends up getting shot and kidnapped by a mountain tribe. She develops Stockholm Syndrome, after which she falls in love and runs away with a Franciscan priest. Based on that story, I’d never considered it as a travel destination. These fellows were convincing me otherwise, talking about the beaches, mountains, and pure beauty of the country. They insisted on treating us to shots of grappa after our meal, and so we left with very warm feelings about the Albanian community. Maybe I will visit Albania! If I do, hopefully I won’t end up in a hostage situation.

Speaking of Canadian literature, after our tour of the Pantheon my husband and I climbed the steps of the monument to Vittorio Emmanuel II, which gave panoramic views of Rome. A woman asked if I would photograph her, and she gave me exact instructions on how to do that, which I genuinely appreciated. I found out she was from Poland. Are you from America? she asked in a very strident voice, to which I responded quickly in the negative. Oh! Canada! My favourite author is from Canada! Have you heard of Margaret Atwood? WELL. I could hardly believe that I would find a fellow Margaret Atwood fan in Rome, of all places, from Poland, of all places. We had a great conversation about The Edible Woman before we went our separate ways.

I did a lot of reading while on trains and planes, in between all my people watching, and so I have many books to tell you about, and I will, a little later. I did want to mention that I had a DNF this week, which I had downloaded to my Kobo only because it was immediately available and I was running out of reading material before my flight home. It was The Au Pair Affair by Tessa Bailey, and listen. I know a lot of you out there love the spicy open-door romance, but to me this was just a really long modern Harlequin-style soft-core porn. Which is fine! I’m not judging. Whatever floods the basement! But I just don’t personally like reading about throbbing cocks and Cardi B-style WAPs. In the same way that I find action movies boring, I find spicy sexy books to be whatever is the opposite of erotic. I never think that I’m a prude, but then I read something like this and I think…I guess I am? The funny thing is that when I was searching for something to read, I saw the author’s name and, like Ludgio with Trump, thought Tessa Bailey, I know that name, but…

Friends, I think I’m finally over my jet lag! I had an absolutely epic, ten hours of uninterrupted sleep on Saturday night and my eyebags went from steamer trunks to pocketbooks. Today is Remembrance Day, which means that it is also the end of Tiny Secret Festive Season, and although I haven’t talked about it, you can bet that I have been celebrating.

I have also been celebrating being reunited with Rex, who has also just gotten over his exhaustion from his vacation. It’s hard work, playing all day every day for three weeks, let me tell you. Especially when there are Halloween parties to attend:

So it’s back to regular programming for us: cooking, writing, and walking down the Golden Mile. I hope you had a great weekend, friends. xo

Five (times two) For Friday: The Arrivederci Italia Edition

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WELL HELLO THERE! Where have I been? I spent just shy of three weeks in Italy; it was a dream vacation and I will remember it forever. Of course, I am in the what are words and how do we use them phase of jet lag, and so behold, I give you a photo-heavy overview of the ten places we visited.

  • Roma! We started and ended our vacation in Rome, which is my favourite city that I have ever been to. I was there on a school trip in Grade 11 and what I remember most is that I couldn’t walk five steps without being blown away by something incredible, and this was exactly my experience now, all these years later. We spent a total of six nights there, and we could have spent sixty and would still not have experienced everything. All of our touring was on foot along the cobblestone streets, dodging the tiny cars for whom things like “lanes” and “pedestrian areas” are fluid and flexible concepts.
  • Vatican City. On my husband’s birthday we went to the Vatican and had a small group tour of the museum and St Peter’s Basilica; of the six people in our group, three were celebrating birthdays. We were led by a very handsome and charming guide named Massimo, who appeared to be some kind of celebrity in the tour guide world. Everywhere we went we heard calls of Ey, Massimo!, to which he’d respond with a lift of his hand and a Ciao. Ciao! Allora., like he was on the red carpet, faced with the paparazzi, and we were his entourage, following behind, rarely getting our tickets checked at the security points. He spoke of himself in the third person. Why do you not let Massimo show you? he’d say, demi-sexually, with his hand on our shoulder if one of our group was lagging or distracted by something. I was the only non-Catholic in our group, which made me the subject of many, many jokes; Massimo gestured widely to the vast number of confessionals in the Basilica. You can surely find an English speaking priest, he said, looking at his watch, And you have until 7pm, that is enough time, no? It was 11am at the time, and I didn’t think eight hours would be quite enough to confess everything, and so I remain non-Catholic.
  • Civita de Bagnoregio. Rome must have been sad that we were leaving, as the beautiful weather TURNED on our departure. We had hired a driver to take us to Montepulciano with a stop at Civita de Bagnoregio, as driving in Italy – especially Rome – is pure madness. Madness, I say! Our driver, Roberto, was achieving speeds near 150 km/hour in the driving rain and fog, on winding roads, and I wondered if this would be the end, beautiful friend. Happily it wasn’t, but the weather did not let up for Civita, a tiny crumbling village on top of a mountain. On the upside, it wasn’t crowded.
  • Montepulciano. After that, Roberto zoomed us over to Montepulciano, a non-crumbling village atop a mountain in Tuscany. It is famous for its wine, which I enjoyed, and we toured a cellar that dated from 1337. We stayed in the most adorable six-room hotel, that was so full of tchotchkes, it felt like staying at someone’s nonna’s house.
  • Siena. We took the train to Siena, also in Tuscany, and enjoyed the food and wine there. Notably we explored the Duomo and climbed the Panorama del Facciatorre and Porto del Cielo, which gave a marvelous view of the city and the basilica. They were accessed by tiny, narrow, spiral staircases, so this is not for the claustrophobic. Fortunately I wasn’t, although the Panorama was a bit nerve wracking, being only a few feet wide with very low railings, towering above the city. We had the added pleasure of seeing longtime friends whom we hadn’t seen in twenty years. We moved on up in the world by staying in a ten-room hotel, which was gorgeous. In the incredible main piazza, I discovered a love of pigeons, channeling my inner Bert, or maybe even my inner Bobby Simone.
  • Firenze! We took the train to Florence, where we were to spend five nights. That’s a lot of nights in Florence, but we had several day trips, via train, planned. The train system is so great in Italy! While in Florence we enjoyed the Renaissance art, and also a little bit of market shopping. Almost everywhere, you can buy David penis-related merchandise, from fridge magnets to key chains to postcards to the type of apron that makes you look like your head has been transposed onto David’s body. It’s all so cheap and weird, which makes the viewing of the actual David even more spectacular. I remembered our teacher chaperone, back on my school trip in 1992, purchasing a plastic replica of David, and I can just imagine it on his coffee table, lo these many years later. I refrained from purchasing any penis-related memorabilia, so anyone expecting one such postcard will be disappointed.
  • Lucca. Our first day trip via train was Lucca, and it was kind of a low point. I had been excitedly anticipating this medieval walled city but we visited it the day before their famous comic and gaming conference, the largest in Europe. We got off the trip with several costumed individuals, including a man who looked exactly like Comic Book Guy from The Simpsons. The medieval wall was covered in tents from various sponsors, and their main square was filled with a tent advertising Squid Games. There was even a giant inflated anime character beside the church. Still, it was fun to stroll around.
  • Cinqueterra! If Lucca was the low point, Cinqueterra was the high. Our guide, Stephano, picked us up in Florence and drove us non-insanely to Manarola, which we strolled through to catch the train to Corniglia, where we hiked through the hillside to Vernazza. We had lunch there, then took the train to Monterossa al Mare, where I was surprised to see so many people on a beach vacation. This is the Speedo capital of the world! Stephano told me, gesturing to the many men so attired. From there we took a boat back to Manarola and headed back for Florence. It was such a great day, one of the best of my entire life.
  • Pisa! Like David’s penis, there are replicas of the Leaning Tower of Pisa everywhere, and so my expectations for this sight were fairly low. Was I ever wrong! We took the train to Pisa and when we came up to the historic building I absolutely gasped. It is so incredibly beautiful. It honestly took my breath away. We climbed to the top, and it was kind of unsettling to feel the slant in the floors and in the winding spiral steps. They’d slant one way, then, as you’d make your way to the other side, they’d slant the other. Also, there is a law that if you don’t take a photo pretending to hold up the tower, they make you go home, but it’s harder than you think!
  • Venizia! Venice is such a chaotic, beautiful, wild, crazy place. It is a frequent stop for cruise ships, and we got there on a Saturday afternoon, which was maybe not the best timing. There was incredibly dense fog, and we wandered the streets, getting pleasantly lost, until our wandering brought us into masses of people crammed into streets lined with incredibly high-end shops. It felt all the world like being in the Venetian hotel in Vegas, except with poor air quality. We had to stop and fortify ourselves with several Aperol spritzes. The next day was much more fun; we got up very early and took the Vaporitta, the water bus, through the city while listening to an audio guide. I had fully expected to want a gondola ride, but when I saw the reality – bumper to bumper gondolas, people queued up as for a Disney ride – I didn’t want to anymore. The population of Venice is diminishing rapidly as it is very expensive to live there, doing day-to-day things like getting groceries is nearly impossible, and there are very strict government building codes that prevent changes to dwellings that are decaying, mildewed, and subject to frequent floods. I’m really glad we went to Venice, because it’s an incredible sight to behold, but I don’t want to go back.

And now I’m home, and trying to catch up on life! I’d love to catch up with all of you, as well. I missed you! Currently I have 304 unread posts in my reader, so it might take some time – help a girl out and tell me what I’ve missed! News did follow me and so I did not miss the US election results. While I’m always sending Care Bear Stares to my friends around the globe, I’m sending extra to my friends south of the border. I hope you can feel them. Tell me something good, friends, or tell me what’s happening in your life, tell me something fun, tell me something serious, just tell me anything. xo