Category Archives: Beauty and body

Glorious Food and Joyful Movement: Nourishing the Body

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I have never run a marathon, and it is unlikely in the extreme that I ever will, but in spite of – or maybe because of – this, I was absolutely fascinated by a podcast interview of a Belgian woman who, at age 55, ran a marathon every day in 2024. Every day. And 2024, you may recall, was a leap year, meaning she ran 366 consecutive marathons.

I laughed as the host kept asking multiple questions that can be summed up in a single word: how? And this woman, in her stoic Belgian accent, said that yes, it was difficult. Yes, she had pains and aches and exhaustion, which she would take treatment and painkillers and naps. Yes, she ate a lot of pasta and protein pancakes. Yes, she ran in the rain for the majority of the winter and spring seasons. Then, she casually mentioned that her immune system was compromised from all the running, which led to contracting Covid in August. It took a long time to get over it, she said matter-of-factly, Because of all the running.

I mean, yes? I was completely stunned by this revelation and listened to the host ask multiple questions about that. Oh, I ran more slowly, she said. More like four hours and twenty, or twenty-five minutes. This bout with Covid brought her daily average run time from sub-four hours to 4:05, which made me wonder if she and I were even the same species.

Well, in a way I get it. I do. I am obsessed with keeping my own various streaks on DuoLingo and Peloton, and I am not trying to set a world record, here. I get the idea of pushing through just to accomplish something important. I do. Running a daily marathon while sick with and recovering from a respiratory illness isn’t something I personally would choose to do, but I’m not in her shoes, the shoes that she had to replace twice a month from wear. And yet I can’t help but think her poor body. I can’t help but think that her body was giving her signs that said maybe we should take a break?, signs which would be mostly obscured by her ultimate goal.

I wanted to talk about nourishing our bodies this week, through movement and through what we all think of when we think of the word nourishment, food. Food, glorious food! Interestingly enough, that same podcast several weeks prior discussed the role of nutrition in perimenopausal fatigue, the interviewee was adamant in her belief that women just do not eat enough to support their energy needs.

I found that fascinating. I also find it fascinating, and not in a happy way, that women are all universally scarred from the societal pressures and images of beauty that we are constantly exposed to, from the cradle to the grave. Who among us has not felt, if not downright self-loathing, then at least dissatisfaction with our bodies and appearances? I am sure there are some women out there who have always simply eaten whenever hungry, whatever food they felt like eating, and don’t think for another moment about it, but I have yet to meet one. I have yet to meet a woman who has not at some point assigned moral value to food items, and thought I’m being bad while eating one, or has referred to a treat as a guilty pleasure, as if eating a cupcake was a moral failing and a plate of nachos was on par with an actual sin.

I have yet to meet a woman who has not felt some kind of guilt or shame about her body, and if you are reading this and you think wait, I haven’t, I have always felt great about myself, then I am happy you’re here and happy to know you exist.

It just makes me sad. It makes me sad so many women view movement as some kind of punishment, and food as some kind of virtue signaling. Because we need nourishment! It reminds me of the scene in the book Bridget Jones’ Diary where she talks about calories to her gay best friend, who asks but how many calories do you need to survive? Bridget is completely taken aback, having dissociated actual physical needs from calorie counts.

We need to treat ourselves tenderly and with love, and withholding food and feeling shame or guilt while feeding ourselves is not that.

After many decades of doing complicated food math in my head, of feeling guilt and shame and embarrassment, of refusing and restricting and saying no thank you when I wanted to say yes please, and could you give me a piece with extra frosting, I am done. I’m done with all that, which is a simple statement to make and much more complicated to get there.

I love this rental house for my soul, this body of mine, and I want to give it all the tenderness and nourishment it needs. I want my food to check off at least two, and preferably three, out of the following three boxes: filling, energizing, and joyful. There are a lot of vegetables and fruit in my world, lots of green smoothies and lots of chickpeas and lentils, and there is also cake. There are sometimes chips and guacamole, and homemade crusty bread, still warm, dripping with butter or Boursin. Weekly, there is popcorn, and also wine or cocktails. And always, always there is coffee, because where would I be without that nectar of the gods?

I wouldn’t be in motion, that’s where I would be. How do we feel about movement practices these days? My personal practices have changed a lot over the years, to become more tender and nourishing. I no longer run, but instead walk a marathon distance over the course of a week, with my fuzzy companion. It’s slow, but I get to take in all the views. I haven’t practiced the Ashtanga second series for six years; instead I have focused on the primary series with some modifications.

2014: I don’t do this pose anymore, but this is my yard now!
2025: How do people take action shots while exercising? This is as good as it gets around here.

I get excited every morning to choose a Peloton ride, which I do based almost entirely on the playlist – disco and 80s music are immediately bookmarked – and how much I like the teacher. I will say I am much less excited to do my strength training, and treat it less like a joyful movement and more like a dreary, tedious prescription. I guess the results – non-crumbling bones, more muscle mass, fewer menopause symptoms – are the joyful part of that movement practice.

Food and exercise are two of the most fraught topics around, and they certainly have been for me in the past, but these days I’m very peaceful about them. I want eating and moving to be joyful things, and they are for me; I think that joy is nourishing, and a nourished body helps with the mind and with the soul – the latter of which will be next week’s topic!

Weekly Reading

After last week’s amazing reads, this week was Just Fine.

Cleopatra and Frankenstein. You may remember I recently read Coco Mellors’ book Blue Sisters and disliked it, so you may wonder why I would pick up her debut. The reason is that I think she is a talented writer, and it was the subject – addiction – that put me off of that book, so I wanted to give her debut a try. And as a warning, there is a lot of drug and alcohol use in this book as well (Coco, are you okay?) but it is not as graphic, so it didn’t bother me in the same way. But. You know that feeling when you finish a book and think “wait, what did I just read?” That was this – in a good way, yes, but what did I just read? I will try to describe it: the story follows a very mismatched pair, Cleo and Frank, through their meeting on New Year’s Eve and subsequent marriage. They are not compatible, they have a twenty-year age gap, and they are surrounded by a cast of characters that can best, and most optimistically, described as offbeat. I found myself quite invested in the fate of all of these weird characters, and the book itself is a bit weird, but I liked it. There’s a lot about mental health and trauma, and about healing from both of those things.

Julie Chan Is Dead. This is a very buzzy book, but I’m mixed on it. On one hand, hooray for a Canadian woman author making such a splashy debut! On the other, I think I’m too old to read a satire about influencer culture. I have to admit that it took some doing for me to get past the premise of this book, which is that twin girls are separated at age four when their parents are killed in a car accident; one is left with her mean and stingy aunt, the other is raised by a very wealthy and possibly racist couple. It took me a while to get past that detail. Why wouldn’t the girls be adopted together? If there were family members to care for one, why did they separate them? Why did they have to go no-contact between the girls? This makes no sense. I had to really move past that detail just to get into the book, which is a propulsive read to be sure. It is satire, and as such it’s pretty over-the-top, but it is cleverly done and contains some very sharp observations about influencer culture. It was entertaining, even if I was not the correct demographic to really enjoy this.

Big Girl. I don’t know how this ended up on my holds; I must have seen it recommended somewhere. However, it was a slog for me. A very, very depressing slog of a book about an eight-year-old girl, growing into womanhood, navigating the world in a very large body. It was inadvertently on topic for this week, what with the themes of body issues, weight, self-loathing, and intergenerational body trauma.

I hope you all have a delicious week, filled with lots of joy and yummy things. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The I Got The Power Edition

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Serious question, friends: where did May go? It feels like it went by in a flash, but I guess that’s not any different from any month. One day you’re noticing all the It’s Gonna Be May memes and Star Wars movies on TV, the next you’re scheduling appointments for June and thinking about the month’s Favourite Things.

I have an interesting variety of things to talk about this month – and they are not all garden related!

Or iris related, despite the iris photos.

Irises are definitely a great part of May, but what I want to talk about today are things that are powerful and energizing on so many levels. Life changing things, as it were.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The I Got The Power Edition

I’ve Got The Power!

A while ago I posted about trying branched-chain amino acids to combat perimenopause symptoms, after hearing about it on a podcast, and I had said it was difficult to tell if it was helping because I am absolutely a Placebo Effect person. I decided to give it several weeks and a full menstrual cycle (yes, I do still get my period – every three and a half weeks, thank you very much, no one needs such frequency) to determine the impact of adding amino acids to my life.

Friends. I cannot overstate how much this has changed things for me! I used to get so fatigued the week before my period; my body would ache and my sleep would be off, and my energy would be low. And no, I am in no way a medical or nutritional professional, this is anecdotal evidence based on a sample size of one, but wow. Wow! I have been sleeping really well, I have not been experiencing any kind of fatigue pre-period, and in fact my period took me by slight surprise, with no symptoms other than slightly sore breasts. No sadness, none of the soul-crushing despair that hits us all before Aunt Flo arrives, not even the cravings for sugary treats or salty snacks. The difference has been astonishing. My resting heart rate is lower, and did I mention the sleep? I go to bed, fall asleep, and wake up seven and a half hours later. Every night! What even is this magic.

Again, not a doctor. Sample size of one. Only five weeks usage. But my husband suggested that due to my plant-based diet for so many years, perhaps I had been missing amino acids this whole time. It does make sense. Will it work for you? I have no idea. But it feels magical to me, that I have Jack Russell terrier energy the whole month through.

I’ve Got The Shower (Cap, For My Food)!

I have long been a fan of beeswax wraps for food, but the ones I bought a decade ago are starting to look a little worse for the wear. I also feel slightly icky when it comes to cleaning them off, as hot water makes them melt. They never get as clean as I could wish them to be, as I don’t like to use harsh cleansers for things that could come into contact with my food. Basically, I wipe them with warm water and dish soap and hope for the best.

So I decided to splurge and buy a set of bowl covers that are easily washable – in hot water – and they are referred to, in our house, as shower caps. I now have a number of them in different sizes and produce-related patterns.

It’s a perfect solution to single-use plastic wrap, which I still do use for meat because that is my line in the sand. Still, a small step towards less plastic is still a step!

I’ve Got To Scour!

Speaking of cleaning, I love this scouring product from Mint. I loathe a gunky sink, but I’m also – see above – not willing to use harsh chemicals in the kitchen. I found this product at the eco-friendly store my friend Joy works at (HI JOY), and it’s wonderful. It’s a scrub – think Comet, but with a minty-fresh smell – and it’s made by two women on Vancouver Island. I love supporting small local businesses, especially those run by women!

It works great at getting the sink shiny and clean, and it smells fantastic.

I’ve Got The Flowers!

May is the month for flowers, and while my perennials and bulbs have been popping, I want to talk about annuals. We have annuals in the pots beside and around the deck, and so far they have not been eaten by deer. Hopefully I didn’t just jinx myself and won’t wake up to deer on our deck. Perennials are so fun to see pop out of the ground, but there is something wonderful about the instant colour of a pot of annuals.

The last photo features flowers that were a free gift with purchase from Superstore, which I love. The purple clematis climbing up behind it – obviously not an annual – was planted last year and is insane! The flowers are huge, they are significantly larger than the palm of my hand, and I have gigantic hands.

I’ve Got The Eyebrow-er!

My eyebrows are naturally a dark brown, but lately many, many of those dark brown hairs have turned pure white, the unhappy result being very patchy-looking eyebrows. I certainly cannot pluck the white hairs, because that would lead to eyebrow bald spots, and I have enough to worry about in the bald spot department, I do not need to add to it.

I love Maybelline products, as you likely already know, and I think their BrowFast Sculpt is genius. It’s like a mascara, but for eyebrows, and it works like a gel for errant hairs while also colouring them. Warning: it’s really really easy to go overboard with this product and then look startlingly like Uncle Leo.

I usually wipe the wand on the side of the tube to get the excess product off, and then I apply with a VERY light touch.

One eyebrow done, to show you the difference. Not to worry, I did the other eyebrow post-photo.

Outfit of the Month

Friends, two things of shopping significance happened this month: I bought a new sweater, and that new sweater was NOT black. Look at me, colourfully peacocking around.

It’s from Lululemon and is advertised as being the Sweater for Summer, which garnered raised eyebrows from me. A sweater? For summer? I’m not in Calgary anymore, people, that is UNNECESSARY. However! I am here to tell you that it is an absolute dream to wear; light and airy, and a perfectly comfortable fit. I probably wouldn’t wear it in temperatures over 20 degrees, but it’s a lovely addition to the shoulder season wardrobe.

The jeans are my favourite brand, Silver, and they are the “Beau” style – the so-called boyfriend jean. Shoes are Skechers, and the tote is from Rome! The latter fact is something I would like to work into more conversations, but alas. There are only so many times a person can mention it.

Last week I was having my coffee and preparing for my yoga practice; I looked up to see this amazing sky. What a reward for being an early riser! It faded quickly, which made it feel all the more special. I hope you have all had a month filled with special treats and favourite things. I’d love to hear all about them. Tell me everything. xo

A Day In The Life: Saturday, What A Day, Grooving All Week With You

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Everybody’s doing it, so I will too! Day in the Life posts are abounding in my lovely blog community, and I realized that a) it’s been a while for me, and b) I’ve never done a WEEKEND Day in the Life, and so here we are. Even though I have no job, no kids who are in the school system, and a retired husband, I do like to make a distinction about weekend activities. I could probably make every day the same, but I thrive on a schedule and routine, and I like to have a different one for weekends.

Saturday May 3

3:55 am. I wake up at my normal time, but then I remember it’s Saturday! So I doze off and on for a couple of hours before getting up just after 6:00 am. Every single day, I do the same thing when I get up: I go downstairs, start the coffee, and drink two big glasses of water. After that I let Rex out of his crate and after he’s joyfully greeted me like it’s been years instead of hours since we’ve seen each other, I let him outside. While he’s there I fill his bowls and do my morning ablutions – wash face, brush hair and teeth, apply SPF moisturizer – and then go check on him. He’s still out and about, probably sniffing the resident coyote or deer scents. When we moved here I fretted so much about having no fences, but it turns out dogs really can be trained to stay within their range, and he does. He’s out there for a while this morning, so I pull out my laptop, pour a big cup of coffee, and start answering blog comments.

I’ve been taking branched-chain amino acids in the morning lately; it’s supposed to help with perimenopause-related fatigue, and I think it does. I mean, I’m very much a Placebo Effect person, so who really knows. I let Rex in after about twenty minutes, and he flops at my feet while I edit my Monday post and read a few blogs, as well as my daily Simple Abundance reading and a Mary Oliver poem.

7:25 am. Time for walkies, but before that I give the downstairs bathroom a quick cleaning. I get dressed, brush my coffee teeth, put on a little mascara and tinted lip balm, and head out with my favourite fuzzy companion. We walk by the creek, which is super high, so we take the high path instead of the more-fun, but now flooded, low one. We meet and greet a lot of the regulars, including but not limited to the man with the chocolate lab who always has a ball in his mouth, an older fellow wearing a “Canada Is Not For Sale” hat – elbows up, sir! – a couple with a fifteen-pound version of Rex, and a gentleman who refers to himself as “Grandpa” and who, every single time I see him, tells me the same joke regarding a quote from Winston Churchill and the inscrutability of women. He always says Stop me if I’ve told you this before but at this point, I’m never stopping him.

9:05 am. I arrive home to a bustling kitchen, where my husband and son are making breakfast. I make my own breakfast – a green smoothie – chug some more water and coffee, and notice how gross the floors are, even though they’ve been vacuumed and washed twice this week already. I do it a third time, wash the blender and accoutrements, call the vet to order Rex’s preventative lice/ flea/ tick/ heartworm medication, brush my now-green teeth, and head downstairs.

9:45 am. After a week of more-strenuous workouts, on Saturday mornings I like a Peloton recovery ride, so I choose a 20 minute one. Following that I give myself the gift of a restorative yoga practice with a silent meditation, and Rex tries to hold my hand while I have my legs up the wall.

10:30 am. I feel great! I drink some more water, and then Rex and I head to the garden. It’s supposed to rain this afternoon so I’m taking advantage of the sunshine to check things out. I get super excited to see that my spinach is close to harvesting already, weed a little, and then head back to the house as the clouds gather.

10:55 am. I make our bed, clean the ensuite, and change out the towels, after which I take a shower. Makeup on, hair done, and dressed, I put an absolutely enormous load of laundry in the washer, write out a few birthday cards, and read a document my husband asked me to review.

12:15 pm. I drive to the library to exchange some books and then to the vet to pick up the medication plus Rex’s expensive dental chews. I mail the cards, go to the bank, and then grudgingly to the grocery store to get eggs. I have long considered the egg industry to be terribly cruel, and to assuage those feelings and compromise with my egg-loving guys, we get a biweekly egg delivery from a local urban farm; I can see the hens on one of our walk routes, and they look happy and healthy. We get two dozen every two weeks, but I did not account for our older son being here for a transitional week between his dorm closing and moving into his new apartment. I spend some time talking to the employee about which eggs are most humane, buy ANOTHER two dozen, and hope fervently that the humane eggs really are.

1:15 pm. I’m home, and I’m hungry. My general view of leftovers is simply NO. I will not. The exception to this is Greek salad; I have lately been making a ridiculously large salad on Friday so I can have the leftovers on Saturday; I round it out with a protein smoothie, supplements, and lots of water. After that I brush my teeth and start food prep: two dressings for the next day’s dinner, and pasta sauce for tonight. Fun fact: I wrote about using my grandma’s trick of adding baking soda in order to cut the acidity of tomato sauce when I worked for YMC; this was in 2015 and so, predictably, my editor titled it Tomato Sauce: You’re Doing It Wrong. Wow, did I get blowback from that. Good times on the internet. As I reminisce about the days when you could expect an attack on your character for adding baking soda to tomato sauce, I wash all the dishes and wipe down the countertops.

2:30 pm. I practice my DuoLingo – I’m learning French and Arabic along with my Spanish – and then fold the giant load of laundry while talking to my mother on the phone. I brush Rex’s teeth and let him outside with a chew, I bake a pumpkin loaf and chop up cauliflower while drinking wine. I wash the associated dishes again, because I am spending my wild and precious life doing so, and also because I cannot abide a messy kitchen.

4:00 pm. I pour another glass of wine and settle in to read for a while, occasionally ambling to the kitchen to cycle pans of cauliflower into the oven and heat up water for pasta.

6:00 pm. Dinner time! We eat the roasted cauliflower with the internet-maligned pasta and sauce (it’s delicious), and the guys clean up the kitchen while I take Rex outside. I go upstairs to change into my pajamas, I brush and floss, wash my face, and apply my night creams along with my hand and feet moisturizers.

7:15 pm. Thus sexily attired and lubed up, I come downstairs to snuggle with my husband on the couch. We watch a movie – The Hit Man – but it’s so boring that I fall asleep for half an hour, and then when I wake up I’m incredibly confused. I watch the end, not knowing what’s going on, and then I go to bed.

9:10 pm. Good night!

I hope you enjoyed this peek into my Saturday! I’d love to hear about yours. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Nifty Fifty Edition

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In honour of my milestone birthday, this month’s Favourite Things consists of fifty favourites throughout the years. Buckle up, buttercups!

Age 0-10

  • Pink was my favourite colour and, by association, flamingoes became my favourite bird after I saw them in the Calgary Zoo. When I grew up, I wanted to be a pink flower.
  • I loved dolls and the dollhouse my grandpa built for me when I was about four. I had a Cabbage Patch Kid named Kora Candi, who my mom risked life and limb to get for me for Christmas 1982, and for whom my grandma made a large wardrobe. I also loved my Cheer Bear and a stuffed rabbit named, unoriginally, Mrs. Bunny.
  • I loved The Muppets, particularly Miss Piggy, who I have an affinity for to this day. (Moi?) I lived for weekly episodes of The Muppet Show and still love The Muppet Movie and The Muppets Take Manhattan, but The Great Muppet Caper is a hot mess.
  • The only other show on television that I really loved was Lorne Greene’s New Wilderness; whenever I see Canada geese – which is daily – I remember his voice talking about how they mate for life, and now the featured newly-widowed goose will be alone forever. Sob.
  • I don’t remember not being able to read; according to my mother, at age two she would give me new library books and I could read them. Busy Busy World by Richard Scarry was one of my favourite books; I loved thinking about different countries and cultures. Because of this my grandma made me a (pink, naturally) quilt in which each square featured a little girl from a different country; the Canadian girl had a Mounties uniform, for example. Years later when I read Cat’s Eye, so much of it was resonant but especially when Elaine learns about different countries. She thinks I can go there someday, I don’t have to stay here.
  • Speaking of going places, the height of luxury, for me, was the rare time our family would stay in a motel that had a pool. What could be more amazing than a pool? A waterpark! Swimming was one of my very favourite things.
  • Winter was something to look forward to because of skating. I took figure skating lessons as a child and I would also spend many hours on the outdoor rink behind our house, sailing around and feeling free, imagining, somehow, that I was Princess Diana. Did she figure skate? I don’t know. I was enamoured with her and at age six, was woken up at 2:30 am by Grandma Fern to watch the Royal Wedding.
  • I loved The Bobbsey Twins, A Little Princess, and, especially, Little Women. To this day I have a soft spot for those books. I loved everything by Laura Ingalls Wilder and LM Montgomery, but especially the last two Emily books and Jane of Lantern Hill. My interest in stories about girls’ lives continues to this day.
  • I knew how to read music from learning the recorder at school, and after figuring out where middle C was located, I would painstakingly plunk out tunes on my grandparents’ piano. At age ten my parents got me my own piano and lessons, and playing the piano is still one of my Favourite Things.
  • Also at age ten, I was introduced to the Sweet Valley High series, and I spent a lot of time imagining that high school would be JUST like that. Was I ever in for a surprise!

Age 11-20

  • It was summer of ’86, and it was a hot night in Estevan, Saskatchewan. My brother, cousins, and I walked from Grandma Fern’s house to the Orpheum movie theatre, famous for its bone-chilling air-conditioning. I was wearing jeans and an off-the-shoulder pink short-sleeved sweatshirt, my hair was ill-advisedly cut to resemble Madonna’s in Papa Don’t Preach. Those characters were going to Top Gun. It was a formative moment for me, and I have never enjoyed an action movie like I did this. The theme song is now my ringtone, and at least weekly I think and you, asshole, you’re lucky to be here!
  • Also formative, but distressingly so, was my obsession with Priscilla Presley’s memoir Elvis and Me, which was later a (terrible) made-for-TV movie. It was, in my young mind, so romantic! Elvis’ buddy asked the FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD Priscilla, in a German army base cafe, if she’d like to come to a party, and there the epic romance started. Hoo boy, that did not age well.
  • Aging much better (although in some cases, NOT GREAT BOB) were the movies that I loved: Dirty Dancing, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, La Bamba, Can’t Buy Me Love, and Say Anything. When Harry Met Sally came out when I was 14 and superseded Top Gun as my favourite moving of all time.
  • My favourite TV show was The Wonder Years, and, relatedly, I loved all sorts of Sixties music, notably The Doors and The Beatles.
  • Concerts were so cheap then, and I went to many, including INXS, Depeche Mode, 54-40, Billy Joel, Barenaked Ladies, and The Grapes of Wrath, the latter of which hail from Kelowna. I have a six-degree separation from the man I had such a crush on back then, Tom Hooper. I daydreamed that I would marry him and live in Kelowna, despite the fact that he clearly hated it and couldn’t wait to leave. Well, I did marry someone from Kelowna and he’s a rock star in my mind.
  • School dances were so exciting and something to look forward to, even if someone was always crying in the washroom.
  • My aunt gave me a copy of Mists of Avalon when I was fifteen, and that made my obsession with Elvis and Me look like a passing glance. King Arthur’s court, but from the women’s point of view? Yes please!
  • I was a dramatic kid and teen, and my flair for it found a home in drama class and in school plays. My biggest role was Amanda Wingfield in The Glass Menagerie; I copied my Alabaman cousin’s accent to land the role.
  • I was a teen in the late eighties, early nineties, when giant hair and lots of hairspray were de rigeur. I had Clairol hot rollers and, paired with Revlon’s Love That Red lipstick, I was ready for a day at school. It was in high school that I discovered I was really good at math, particularly calculus, so imagine a red-lipsticked, giant-haired me, going back to first principles.
  • I read my first Margaret Atwood book – The Handmaid’s Tale – when I was in high school, spurring a lifelong love for her writing. In my first year university, I was introduced to our other national literary treasure, Alice Munro, through her Lives of Girls and Women. To this day it’s a favourite, and I’ve read and loved every single thing she wrote. I also read Pride and Prejudice, which started my adoration of Jane Austen and all of her books, but particularly Emma and Sense and Sensibility.

Age 21-30

  • I discovered I loved group fitness classes in university, most notably step aerobics, but also boxercise.
  • Going to grad school was such a great experience for me; I received my master’s in economics with a 4.0 GPA.
  • While in economics, I met a man who became my friend for a few years before we started dating. Reader, I married him.
  • But before we got married, Margaret Atwood – whose entire catalogue I had already devoured over and over – published The Blind Assassin, which is my all-time favourite book.
  • A very close runner-up, and my ultimate comfort read, is Diary of a Provincial Lady, which I picked up completely on a whim at a used book store and have read so many times that my copy has fallen apart.
  • My boyfriend/ future husband and I went to Egypt, where we rode camels and donkeys as well as really sketchy trains, took a tiny cruise down the Nile, and climbed to the top of Mount Sinai to watch the sunrise.
  • Living so close to the Rocky Mountains meant that most weekends were spent going on hikes out there, soaking up the most beautiful place on earth. We got also married in the Rockies!
  • I loved making my own grown-up paycheques. I liked my jobs, especially when I was working on the trade floor. The job was difficult and the hours were long, but the money was great and I loved dressing up every day.
  • We bought a cozy, fixer-upper house in a beautiful, tree-lined neighbourhood, where we lived happily for twenty-three years.
  • Speaking of which, at age 29 and 30 I received the best gifts of my life: our sons. Being their mother has been the great pride and joy of my life. Elisabeth (HI ELISABETH) asked recently if I ever wanted more than two children, and the answer to that is no. I always wanted two, and when my younger son was born I knew our family was complete.

31-40

  • When I was 32, I decided to try an Ashtanga class at the Yoga Shala, as a little break from mothering two very little boys. That one class changed the whole course of my life; I started a daily practice in their Mysore program, and I still practice that way – albeit at home – to this day. I met so many wonderful friends there as well, and I think with so much fondness and nostalgia of our early, silent mornings, practicing together.
  • Barkley came into our lives at 13 weeks, and while in retrospect it seems a little bonkers to have such a young puppy with three-and-four-year-old boys, I would never change it for the world. He was our loving fluffy stuffed animal come to life, and everyone who encountered him loved him.
  • At age 33 I started a blog, and that also changed everything! I met Hannah and Allison, who are to this day my rock and safe space (HI HANNAH HI ALLISON), along with so many other great friends.
  • In addition to my personal blog, I also wrote short essays for YMC, and they eventually hired me as one of their weekly food writers, where I was the Meatless Mummy. I was there for four years, and it was really a great experience; I worked with so many wonderful women (and two men!).
  • After a few lonely years at home with the kids, I was absorbed into the Circle Moms when my oldest started kindergarten; so named because after school we would all stand in a circle and chat while the kids were on the playground. Later, the Circle Moms became the Brentwood Babes.
  • After the one-two punch of having two children in less than a year and a half subsided, we started travelling to kid-friendly destinations with them. They were great travellers, and our favourite place was Maui. We have been lucky enough to visit there six times now.
  • We also spent a lot of time at my parents’ place at the lake, particularly during the summer, where the weather could go from hot and sunny to single-digits and hailing, all within a day. There was always lots of time on the boat, and lots of board games.
  • Our neighbourhood proved to be a great one to raise kids in. My sons were able to walk to every school they attended, there was shopping and the library and the pool all within ten minutes’ walk.
  • A great privilege of my life has been to spend time with my sons; all through their childhood we’d spend so much time at the Calgary Zoo and Science Centre, playgrounds and Calaway Park, splash pads and sledding, movies and Just Dance nights. I treasure the time I spent immersed in their daily lives.
  • My 40th birthday party was an absolute blast; it included being serenaded Top Gun-style by my husband’s buddies and also chugging Baby Duck after midnight.

41-50

  • My favourite trip we ever took with the kids was to Disney World and Universal Florida; they were the absolute perfect age for it and it was so much fun.
  • I decided to take yoga teacher training at age 41, and I was one of the oldest in the class.
  • Since I had been involved in the yoga community for so long by this point, I was able to pick up so many classes right away. My friend and mentor Sharyl (HI SHARYL) had me assist her in Yoga for Stroke Survivors, where I learned so much about bodies and resiliency, and I eventually solo taught that class, along with Ashtanga, restorative, hatha, and my favourite, Yoga for Seniors. I am still in touch with many of my beloved students.
  • We travelled as a family with our very dear friends – our chosen family! – to Mexico many times pre-pandemic. When kid schedules became too complicated, my husband and I took couples’ trips to Mexico with our friends sans kids, and that was incredibly fun too.
  • The teen years are often vilified but I loved them; I loved seeing my kids grow up, graduate high school, and become the fun, responsible, wonderful adults that they are.
  • When we said goodbye to Barkley, I said Never Again! But three months later, Rex came to our family, and wow, I cannot imagine life without our Big Silly, our Doughnut, our cartoon dog come to life.
  • Moving provinces was chaotic, but when the dust settled, so did I. I love where I am so much. Our new house is an absolute dream, complete with my beautiful garden. I am so happy here.
  • I worried so much about making new friends when we moved here, and all that worry was for naught. I have such a beautiful circle of friends, women who constantly amaze me with their fun-loving personalities, their generosity, their kindness, and their ability to show up for one another. I am truly so fortunate.
  • Italy is my favourite place I have ever visited, and going there with my husband was a highlight of my life.
  • I knew I wouldn’t be teaching yoga when we moved here, but I wanted something to fill my time, so I decided to write a book! I took a series of novel-writing courses, and through that, and my blogging friends, I met some very supportive women who are also writers.

Thank you, dear readers, for all your support and kindness! I’ve been reflecting so much on everything I am grateful for, being fifty years on this earth, and I am so grateful to all of you. xo

Tell Me Something Beautiful About You

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It is the last Monday of my forties! I’m celebrating by sending off the third draft of my novel to my trusted beta readers. It’s exciting and oh, so scary. I vacillate between it’s a draft, relax, and what if it’s terrible and everyone hates it? Not every book is for every person, and I wrote a book I would want to read – and I have read it many, many times now in the editing process.

The whole point of writing this book has been for pleasure, for a challenge, to see if I could do it, and in that spirit, it’s an accomplishment. And I honestly do not think it’s terrible, although it won’t be everybody’s taste. What book is? In any case, I did it, and I’m excited to get feedback from my very first readers (HI READERS, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE).

My very favourite thing on the internet, bar none, is when friends post photos of themselves, particularly selfies. I have heard selfies disparaged in many times and in many ways, but to me, they are nothing but happiness. I love seeing my friends’ faces; I see a selfie and I think there’s my beautiful friend! Seeing a photo, especially when I haven’t seen that person in a very long time – or, in some instances, ever – makes me feel closer to them.

There is something else about selfies that I love, and that is that I know the person felt good about themselves and their appearance at that moment in time.

A few weeks ago I read an article on Cup of Jo entitled What Do You Like About The Way You Look, and the title alone gave me a real visceral reaction. I think it’s universally uncomfortable for women to verbally express what they like about their appearance, for fear that they will sound vain or that they will trigger dislike or eyerolls from others – often other women. Who does she think she is? Instead, we are conditioned to really make ourselves smaller, lesser; to deflect compliments lest we are viewed as being too inflated, too big for our theoretical britches.

I, for one, was raised in an environment in which vanity and a preoccupation with one’s appearance was to be not just discouraged, but extinguished. And that upbringing resulted in the exact opposite outcome from the intended: I am as vain as the day is long. I put on mascara and tinted lip balm to walk the dog at seven in the morning, I wear a full face of makeup and do my hair every single day, I spend a lot of time on my wardrobe and my skincare routine and, most of all, my hair. I probably think that song is about me.

I do like the way I look – not every single aspect of my appearance sparks joy, of course, but in general I do. However, I feel very awkward saying so. The very idea of proclaiming what, specifically and particularly, I like – love! – about the way I look makes me nervous and sweaty. Some part of me seems to think that verbalizing my satisfaction about my appearance will lead to an immediate loss of friends and intense dislike from everyone around me.

That’s stupid. If a friend or loved one said she loved, for example, her breasts or hair or skin, I would probably say yes! I love them too! You’re gorgeous! Why should it be different to say such a thing about ourselves?

We should be able to celebrate every aspect of ourselves, including our appearances. We should be able to say what we love about the way we look without immediately following it with well, in every other way I’m a troll. We should be able to take a compliment without saying no, no, YOU look great, my roots, my god, I need to colour them. We should be able to post a photo without saying felt cute, might delete later. No! If you feel cute, DO NOT DELETE!

I guess this is why I love selfies so much, because they show what we can’t tell. They show that we like the way we look in them, even if we can’t say it. A selfie tells me that my friend thinks she’s beautiful, at that moment, even if she can’t say it aloud.

We should take away the stigma. What do you like about the way you look? What in particular? For me, I think I have a really beautiful smile. I also think that – and this is a recent development – I have a nice, shapely ass. I immediately wanted to type something disparaging about my body as soon as I wrote that, friends! Immediately! But I’m leaving it as is, and I’m challenging you to chime in and celebrate your own appearance.

Weekly Reading

I had an epic reading week, thanks to a) short books, and b) a lot of rain. I don’t think these books could be more different from each other if they tried.

Forever…Another Judy Blume and this one was the spicy favourite of my youth! I honestly think this is the most real book I have ever read about the intensity of teen relationships, the ups and downs of sex and love. It was so resonant for me when I read it as a teen, and it is a nostalgic read now. It mirrored a lot of my own experiences, except for the ones where Kath has open conversations with her parents about sex. I would have rather died. Also – interesting note – Kath’s grandmother in this book is a nearly seventy-year-old social justice lawyer who gives her information on Planned Parenthood and disease and pregnancy preventions. I mean, this could not be less like my own grandmas. However, I loved this book then and I still love it now! Also, and this will make sense only if you have read this book, one of my friends as a teen had a boyfriend named Ralph and it was really hard to look at him.

Foster. I really admire this author for her ability to convey such incredible emotion and storytelling in such a concise way. This incredible little book details a short time in which a young Irish girl is taken to stay with elderly relatives while her long-suffering mother has yet another baby. It’s a story within a story, and it’s a book that leaves a lot to the reader’s imagination; I for one will be thinking about it for a long time. I also will be thinking of the absolute misery that was women’s lives when the power to control their own fertility was not theirs; the desperation and poverty from such situations cannot be understated.

Loved and Missed. Woof. This is a truly brilliant piece of writing; so evocative, so moving. It’s also so very sad on so many levels. It has to do with a woman who is raising her granddaughter, as her daughter is an addict. There are so many themes of secrecy and shame, inter-generational trauma, pain and love. It shows what it is to love an addict, betrayal, and endings. So good and so very sad.

Five-Star Stranger. This was such an interesting concept – and well-executed as well. This follows a man who is a Rental Stranger, meaning that he can be rented for social occasions; think escort, but for all kinds of occasions and without the sex. He has had a long-term client who has rented him to be her daughter’s dad once a week, and her daughter has no idea that he isn’t actually her father. It’s a really interesting statement on loneliness, artificial relationships, and what happens when we don’t live in an authentic way. I really enjoyed it, thanks Julie (HI JULIE) for the recommendation.

I have a lovely, busy week planned for this, my last week in my forties: I have time with The Squad and a writing date, my parents are coming for a visit this weekend and I’m hosting an Easter dinner for nine. There will be cake involved, and mini-eggs in nests, the forecast is for sun, and my little spinach and kale seedlings are thriving. I’d love to hear about what you love about yourself, friends, but if that is too difficult, then I’d love for you to look into the mirror with love. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Not Quite In Style Edition

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One of the best things about aging is that I no longer care about being in style. I said this to my husband, who vehemently disagreed that this was the case, leading to an involved conversation about semantics. I maintain that having personal style and caring about how a person presents oneself is very different from being in style. I care very much about my own personal style, but as far as trends are concerned, I’m indifferent.

I’m sliding towards my fiftieth birthday not knowing celebrity gossip or who even the young celebrities are these days; my only exposure to new music is from Peloton pop rides, and I am solidly ensconced in styles that I like without regards to current trends. I can really, really relate to women who were wearing their hair feathered or mulleted in the late nineties, with frosted lipstick and blue eyeshadow. I hope I’m not there.

I think there is something to the idea that later in life a woman adopts a hairstyle that harkens back to her favourite time of life. I once mentioned to a hair stylist that I worried I was in a hair rut, always wanting the same old thing, and she said Well, look at Barbra Streisand! She’s had the same hairstyle for years, and she looks great. I was unsure of how I felt, being compared to septugenarian Babs, since I was about thirty-four at that time, but I embrace the comment in the spirit in which it was intended.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Not Quite In Style Edition

Forever In Blue Jeans

Up until last week, I would have said that the current, very in vogue style of barrel or wide leg jeans was only for the very young, but then my gorgeous friend Carolyn (HI CAROLYN) swanned into book club on Thursday wearing a pair and looking like a total fox, and so I stand corrected.

The key to styling those jeans, I think, is to counterbalance the voluminous legs with a crop top, a fitted, tucked-in tee, or a bodysuit, and to accessorize with a wide belt. Unfortunately for me, I am reluctant to call attention to my own personal belt area, and so this is a fashion I am not going to participate in.

I think the most universally flattering cut of jeans is the flare or boot cut with a nice chunky heel, but heels are not part of my daily life anymore, and so I will also sadly pass on this style as well. I find I look frumpy in a flare with flats, what can I say. Fortunately, I am in the I don’t give a fuck stage of fashion, and so I still embrace the wildly-out-of-style skinny jeans. What other pant can you wear tall boots with? I also appreciate that skinny jeans go well with long tops, which covers the exact spot I wish to cover up, namely my tum-tum.

My one concession to wide leg jeans is a meet-you-in-the-middle style, the boyfriend jean. I like them cuffed with ankle boots, or little flats in the summer.

Here’s a hot tip for all my fellow Canadians: go to Mark’s, as in the former Work Wearhouse. They have a great selection of Silver jeans, which are in my mind the best brand around. Silver jeans have so much stretch without getting stretched out, which is a remarkable feature for denim. They have so many different styles and cuts, and almost always there is some kind of BOGO deal happening at Mark’s. I’m not sponsored by Mark’s! I just love that store.

These Boots Were Made For Walking

Speaking of Mark’s, my younger son just bought his first pair of steel-toed boots. According to his somewhat-trend-aware brother, my son is in the height of fashion: the aforementioned boots are Timberlands, albeit the tan colour is now splattered with oil and grease. I also have Timberland boots – from Mark’s! – which look nice, Mom, but they aren’t exactly in style. Well, no, mine are a) black, not tan, and b) winter boots. They might not be the height of fashion, but I still think they are cute, and they are perfect for our long morning walks.

Cute, comfortable, grippy, warm, and waterproof, what more does one want from winter walking boots?

Entering My Elastic Waist Era

Many years ago, I was laughing at the Sears catalogue that described a particular style of pants as “pull on pants.” Aren’t we all pulling on our pants? Well, yes. Pull on pants became code for any clothing associated with the elderly, but just like everything else I have looked at judgmentally in my life, it has come back to haunt me. Here I am, pulling on elastic waist pants and loving them.

I bought these from Lululemon and they are quite honestly the most comfortable pants I have ever worn. I’m not even sure how to describe them: like sweatpants that look like actual dress pants would be the closest I can come. I think these would be the perfect travel pants; comfortable enough to wear on the plane, wrinkle-resistant and honestly, pretty cute. I wouldn’t showcase the elastic waist, but I wouldn’t be showcasing my waist anyway.

Maybe She’s Born With It

I have long been a proponent of drugstore makeup; in my mind Maybelline’s Surreal Falsies is the single greatest mascara ever invented, and I love that brand’s Ultimatte lipstick. I am newly a convert to another lip colour, thanks to my friend Sarah (HI SARAH), who brought Super Stay Ink Crayon Lipstick to my attention. Friends, this is a truly remarkable product.

The colour stays on for hours, HOURS, even after eating and drinking and even dabbing one’s mouth with one’s napkin. I’m not sure how it stays on after sexytimes, but I’m guessing it performs in that area as well.

It’s Asparagus Season, Motherfuckers

I am so excited that asparagus is in season and, relatively speaking, less expensive than other produce right now. “Less expensive” is a very general descriptor and in the not-so-distant past would have meant half the price that I’m paying now. However, in season is in season, and we are consuming the hell out of asparagus right now.

Something occurred to me the other day: when I was a kid we never had out-of-season produce. Whether that was because it was prohibitively expensive or just not available in the 80s, we would have never had, for example, strawberries in January. I wonder if we are starting to move in that direction now. In any case, we are moving into Garden Season, which is my favourite season! In the next few weeks I’ll be planting some hardy greens, and I cannot wait to be harvesting my own produce. Hopefully I’ll finish the grated zucchini I have in the freezer before zucchini season begins again.

Chocolate zucchini bread, original recipe from the Lutheran Ladies’ Family Favourites. Much better than their weird section on casseroles and meat salads. I still have a drawer full of zucchini.

Outfit of the Month

Earlier this month the girls and I went to see a string quartet perform ABBA songs, and we thought it would be fun to dress up in our most disco wear. When this conversation first came up I was excited, and then thought wait, I don’t HAVE any disco wear. Then I remembered the dress I wore for my husband’s retirement dinner, paired it with my dressiest boots, and headed out on the town.

To be totally honest I was worried the dress would no longer fit, but happily that wasn’t the case!

March is an exciting month for us, what with birthdays and our anniversary and the anticipation of Garden Season; this weekend my husband and I are going to belatedly go on a date – A DATE! – for our anniversary, which is going to be a Favourite Thing for sure. Did you have some Favourites this month? Tell me everything. xo

Five For Friday: The Pandemic Habits That Stuck Around For Five Years Edition

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Yesterday marks the five-year anniversary of the first of many Covid lockdowns. I have been reflecting on the pandemic a lot lately because of this; for me as for most, it was a time of despair, depression, anxiety, and fear. I have also discovered that I have a lot of shame and embarrassment due to my unspoken, but strongly felt, feelings of judgement towards others who did not behave the same way I did, or made different choices during that time. It seems my propensity for empathy and compassion took a leave of absence, and for that I am ashamed. The world, after all, is a wild tapestry of lived experiences and situations, and I feel that my silent judgement only contributed to feelings of fracture and polarization that still exist today.

But, as Ma Ingalls said, there is no great loss without some small gain, and to that end I would like to focus on something very positive that resulted from this time of fear and sadness: five long-lasting habits that have improved my life vastly. Had the pandemic not happened, I would likely be the same person I was five years ago, doing the same things, living the same life. But it did, and here are the habits that I kept and love.

Rex, second guessing his decision to be an emotional support dog after listening to me talk about the pandemic.

Practice At Home / Sweet Home Workouts. I recall seeing a commercial for Peloton circa 2019, and at that time I said to my husband that is the stupidest idea I ever heard, a spin class for one? Who would do that? Who indeed. Prior to the pandemic I was a gym devotee, using the treadmills and going to spin classes, and in May 2020 I ate those words I had spoken a year before. Maybe a Peloton WOULD be a good idea, I mused aloud, Except we don’t have the room. My husband had a Hold My Beer-style response, and immediately ordered one and reorganized our basement to make space. This is both a commentary on our consumption styles – he’s All Action – and on what it was like to live with a gym-free me. Spoiler alert:

The Peloton was, of course, the best purchase we made in 2020, maybe even ever. I use it almost every single day and am currently on a 1538 day streak.

Our home gym, including Nicole’s Cardio Corner.

In addition to going to the gym, I would get up very early every morning and head to the yoga studio to practice Mysore-style Ashtanga with a whole community of similarly-minded people, and if you watch that video, I’m the one in the bright pink pants. Five years ago today I switched my practice to a home one and I have never looked back. I miss my yoga people, but I love my quiet little practice at home. This week I have been watching the waxing moon as it falls; I suppose this is an upside to Daylight Saving Time as this happens very, very early in the morning.

I still wear the Shala merch, even though my Shala is now my living room.

Write On. It’s hard to even fathom, but I used to write blog posts whenever I felt like it, any time of the week. When the world shut down and I was faced, Virginia Woolf-like, without a space to write in, I became laser focused. I would write for twenty minutes before starting yoga, I would write on the weekends, I would write whenever I possibly could. I started a count of the weeks we were locked down, and published every Monday, with a Favourite Things every month. I feel like that period of time constraints was so helpful for me to structure my writing, and looking back it gave me a detailed journal of that time. I don’t have the same constraints now, but I kept the structured habits.

I now have a room of my own to write in! Rex is a good writing partner.

I also think that the blogging community really came together during the pandemic; you all showed up! So many new blogs were created, and I made a lot of new friends in that time. I think the blogging community is stronger than ever before, and I will never stop being grateful for all of you who are here, reading this right now.

Hair Affair. When I think of all the money and all the time I spent over the years, getting my hair professionally cut and coloured every five to six weeks, I want to die. Faced with my roots about a month into the pandemic, I purchased a box of Garnier hair colour and just went for it, and I have never looked back. Does it look like a professional job? No. But it costs $10 and I can just colour my hair whenever I feel like it, without blocking off an entire afternoon.

Fresh hair colour, Mexican humidity.

We Will We Will Walk You

I have loved walking since I was very young, but in March 2020 I started to become very intentional with it. In addition to my long-in-duration-but-short-in-distance, slow-boat-to-nowhere strolls with Barkley, I started Nicole Walks, a brisk-paced, five kilometre minimum every day, in any weather. These days, of course, I am accompanied by Rex, which means my brisk pace has slowed to allow for a whole lot of sniffing and people stopping me to admire my giant cartoon-dog-come-to life.

I don’t mind the slower pace; I can take in the fresh air and beautiful surroundings, I listen to podcasts, and I sketch out writing ideas in my mind while getting steps in.

No News Is Good News

I remember exactly when I decided to stop reading the news: it was January 2022. That month was an absolute low point in my life. Prior to that I would, ridiculously, spend massive amounts of time refreshing data on the “curve” and “case numbers” and “new restrictions in place.” In January 2022 there were no home Covid tests available, “case numbers,” were mere estimates, and it turned out that vaccines weren’t the silver bullet we thought they were, as vaccinated people began falling ill. School had been shut down, again, diploma exams were cancelled, and my kids’ mental health took a hit, given all they had lost during their precious high school years. My mental and emotional health was also pretty fragile. The constant scrolling was nothing but another negative impact in my life, but at least it was one that I could control.

I still don’t read the news, although I did break my own rule recently and went into a tailspin about whether or not my country would be annexed. The scrolling that resulted clearly showed the negative impact the news has on my mental health, and so I have implemented a new rule: I look over news headlines one time a day, for a maximum of five minutes. When it comes to news about Canadian politics, I look to my friend Darren, who gives balanced information from an economic and non-partisan perspective (HI DARREN).

Ma Ingalls was right. There is something good in everything and these long-lasting habits have been incredibly positive for me. Another thing the pandemic gave me was gratitude for the everyday things. Every time I hug a friend or share a meal, every time I board a plane to explore our vast, beautiful world, every time I go to the grocery store and encounter people without suspicion that they are vectors of disease, I feel incredibly grateful. But, to misquote the Four Non-Blondes, I pray, oh my god do I pray, I pray every single day for us to never walk this path again. May we never. xo