Category Archives: Embrace the Season

Celebrate Good Times, Come On!; 106 Weeks In

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Let’s celebrate! It’s all right! Baby!

I would like to tell you that I have that song in my head, but no, no. I have had 24K Magic in my head for four days now, but not the whole song. Just ONE line, over and over. Every so often I will burst forth with it: Put your! Pinky! Fingers! To the! MOON!, which elicits one of two reactions: my older son will dutifully put up his pinky fingers, my younger son will close his eyes briefly, with the silent agony that comes with having Not A Regular Mom, A Cool Mom.

Speaking of music, thanks to my dad we have discovered a music channel on TV that is called Greatest Hits, and it’s true, every song that plays was a hit at one point. The screen shows the song that’s playing, and the one that will follow, and it is bananas. We have been watching this to guess what could possibly come next, but no one could actually guess what does come next. It’s like someone took all the Top Ten every year for the last sixty years, put them in a giant hat, and randomly drew them out. Whitney Houston will be followed by Bo Diddley, and after that, it’s The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. Justin Timberlake is followed by Tie A Yellow Ribbon Round The Old Oak Tree, and then it’s Heat of the Moment. Hit Me Baby One More Time will be followed by a Shania Twain song, and just when you think you’re in the 90s, the station plays Super Freak.

A small digression about Shania Twain: she is the one and only celebrity I have ever been compared to in my life. This was in the mid-nineties, and I was wearing a denim vest with a tank top underneath, and I would be flattered by the comparison, but the gentleman in question who was comparing me to the lovely songstress was near-passing-out-drunk.

Last night during dinner I asked my husband if he’d put on some kind of Disney music channel: it was Beauty and the Beast, followed by The Rainbow Connection, and he answered with a look only. Immediately after Kermit and Miss Piggy’s duet was Frank Sinatra followed, strangely, by Faith Hill. What is happening at the Greatest Hits station. Who is in charge of the playlist?

But back to Celebrating! We have had a lot to celebrate this week – it was our 20th anniversary, and my son’s 18th birthday, both on the same day. It was also spring break, we were able to come out of isolation, and the snow has all melted!

It’s still March, though, so we have snow ahead of us, but it’s nice to get the base layer off the ground. In fact, I was walking to the little salon in our neighbourhood to get a pedicure, and suddenly I thought “what just blew into my face?” I literally thought small particles of a building material just blew off a roof or something; it’s hard to describe, but it was like being hit in the face with confetti in a wind machine. It was a sudden, out-of-nowhere snowstorm – there were no warning flakes, nothing except sudden total snow and wind. It’s melted now but it was bizarre, even for a lifelong Calgary girl.

To celebrate our 20th anniversary, my husband and I went back to the scene of the crime – Banff. We spent a night at the lovely Banff Springs, and it was wonderful.

So, that was perfectly lovely, and I was grateful that we were out of isolation in time to go.

We celebrated my son’s birthday with cake and a nice dinner, and an afternoon of bowling – he also celebrated with his friends, once THEY were all out of isolation. Covid has made its way through almost all of my sons’ friends, after two years of nothing.

Pandemic Reading

Apples Never Fall. WOW!!! I loved this book! I have enjoyed all of Moriarty’s books, and this one is EXCELLENT! A woman goes missing; her husband is the main suspect. Did he do it? Full of twists and turns, secrets and astonishing, unexpected wisdom, this book was fantastic. Surprise: there is a small pandemic-related storyline. I cannot tell you anything else – you know how Moriarty is, just when you think you’ve figured it out, there’s another twist.

The Mother-in-Law. This was a pretty decent – mystery? Maybe? I’m not sure what to call it. – about a woman who appears to have ended her life, due to terminal cancer. The problem is, after death no cancer is found, nor the poison she apparently took to end her life. So what happened? It wasn’t hard to guess, but a decent read nonetheless. It had me thinking a lot about the mother-in-law/ daughter-in-law relationship. Is there any relationship with such potential to be fraught? This is an interesting “from-both-sides” perspective.

Once when the boys were babies, someone at playgroup said that you never really appreciate your own mother until you become one, and that really resonated for me. Certainly I appreciated my own mother more, once I was in the Mother Shoes myself. But I realized something, and that was that with two boys – two heterosexual, cis boys, as I have – I will be, if I am very lucky, a mother-in-law, and that is a very different relationship, as we all know. It’s something that seems far away right now, but it is something I think about. It’s something I will want to get right, but it is so delicate, and it so much depends on personality and patience, it seems.

Anyway, that was NOT the point of the book, but something I have been thinking about nonetheless.

Enjoy these last few days of March, my friends! I hope it’s going out like a lamb for you. xo

Marital Mismatches and Superpowers; One Hundred and Two Weeks In

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It feels like I was JUST saying that February is tomorrow, and here we are, MARCH is tomorrow! February flew by; part of it was that it felt like Life Was Hectic, with wrestling tournaments and a new school semester and a five-day weekend thrown in for good measure, but part of it was that we have had absolutely gorgeous, mild weather in a I Can’t Believe It’s February kind of way. This, however, came to an abrupt end this past week; I had to put on my snowpants, again, to go for a walk.

It’s weather like this that makes automatic car starters so popular around here, for people who don’t have garages. I mean, obviously. I am no expert on this subject, but I can only assume that if a person were to use an automatic car starter while their car was in a garage, they might drop dead of carbon monoxide poisoning on entering the garage, unless the garage door was open, but if it was, why would you need the automatic car starter? Why would you go into the garage, open the door, and then use an automatic car starter? Why wouldn’t you just start your car?

Anyway, automatic car starters. I don’t have one – I have a garage, and I use it – but I’m sure they are great for weather like we had this past week. As I was walking the other day, attired as above, I started to pass a truck parked on the street, and then that truck started lightly honking its horn. I thought maybe it was a neighbour, trying to get my attention, but then I wasn’t sure how anyone would know I was me, dressed as I was, with sunglasses to boot. Startled, I looked up, but no one was in the truck. Then the truck started, and I thought, oh, automatic car starter and kept on my way. Shortly after that, the same thing happened with ANOTHER vehicle. And then another one! Three times this happened to me in a sixty minute walk, a light honk and then the car starting just as I was passing it, with no one in the vehicle.

I actually started to wonder if I had suddenly developed the world’s weirdest and most useless superpower, the ability to start cars merely by passing them on the street. Imagine! It would have been nicer to suddenly develop the ability to fly, or control the weather, or even swing from buildings using webs shooting out of my own wrists, but I will admit I will take anything I can get in the superpower front.

As I was walking, I was listening to a podcast that was recorded in the summer, in Los Angeles, and one of the hosts mentioned that she hates showering, and showers only when she has to, which turns out to be every three to four days. Now, before I get further, I am going to say that if you are a person who is of similar mindset, I am not judging you: I assume we all know our own bodies and needs best, and this is a safe space, we are in the Trust Tree here. You do you.

Personally, I am a Daily Shower person, and I realize this is a great privilege of the Modern Age, but my Daily Shower is an Anchor in my day, and without it I feel like I would drift off into the Sea of Life. Even though I do not wash my hair every time I shower – that I do only about every 2-3 days – I feel refreshed and happy and like I hit the Reset Button Of Life every time I step out of the shower. It’s an important ritual in my day, and also, if you’ve ever seen me post-daily-workout, you would probably think a daily shower should not only be encouraged, but vital.

I get sweaty, is what I’m saying. I haven’t weighed myself since August 2020, and I don’t plan on weighing myself ever again, but sometimes I wonder how much water weight I lose in a workout. I’m a person who sweats a lot and I shall not sweat-shame myself, but honestly. I could wring out a tank top post-workout.

Back to the podcast. After the host mentioned her distaste for showers, the other host asked if her husband was still showering twice a day and that brings me to my whole point. Twice a day showers feels like a lot, but I have definitely done that in the summer, after a day spent outside gardening or hiking, covered in sunscreen and bug spray. But what I have a hard time reconciling in my head is what is their marriage like? You never know, of course, what goes on in someone’s marriage, but if my husband – who also showers daily – started showering every 3-4 days, I think it would end in divorce. I just couldn’t handle it. I recognize, again, privilege and that our bodies adjust to what we do to them, but still.

It’s the mismatch that gets me. It’s not like I think my husband and I should be clones of each other, because that would be weird and disturbing, and also I would not want to be married to my own clone, god, there can’t be TWO of us. But I also don’t think that Opposites Attract, or if they do Attract, they don’t Stay Attracted, if you know what I mean.

I have been thinking about this because we are coming up to our twentieth anniversary – twenty years! – in a few weeks. I find it interesting, there are so many behaviours that would never bother me if anyone else in the world did them, but if it was my husband, NO. NO SIR. The following would put an actual strain on my marriage, an I don’t think this is WORKING kind of strain: smoking, leaving dirty clothes on the floor instead of in the hamper, drug use, neglecting his health, and, importantly, less frequent showering than me. Fortunately, none of those things have come to pass, so we shall happily celebrate our China Anniversary later this month, minus the china.

Look at that sweet young thing! She had no idea that in twenty years, she’d be writing about marital shower habits.

Pandemic Reading

Notes From A Small Island. When I posted this on Instagram, a friend introduced me to the Bill Bryson Theory: the first one you read is hilarious, and then each subsequent title is progressively less funny. YES. I have enjoyed Bryson so much in previous books but this, meh. It follows him on a seven-week tour of Britain, his adopted country, and yes, this was published in 1995 so it is obviously dated and yes, Britain in the 80s and 90s was a grim and depressing place to be, but ugh. This book was so dull and disappointing. There were a couple of amusing anecdotes and some interesting facts, but whoever reviewed this at The Globe and Mail – “Doubled over belly shakes and seltzer through the nose funny” – was maybe drunk.

Black Is The Body. This was excellent! I love a good essay collection and this one was insightful and thoughtful. The first essay, about the author being randomly stabbed at a coffee shop, was startling; the rest of the book deals with race, home, marriage, and motherhood, all tying back to her body and what it means to be black in America. 

The Echo Chamber. This is a very clever satire and commentary about appearances, social media, and cancel culture. The Cleverley family is an absolutely ridiculous group of caricatures, but there’s a thoughtful and interesting pre-SM backstory. Also interesting to me is that it was published in 2021 and there are quite a few references to past mask-wearing, vaccinations, and how fun it is to go shopping again, now that the pandemic is over. Oh, sweetie. The epilogue I could have done without, but in general it was smart and amusing. As I say, it’s satire, so definitely not for everyone, as there are a few storylines that feel distasteful.

My Boyfriend Wrote A Book About Me. I am NOT the correct demographic for this book, that much is obvious. It is supposed to be a humorous book of essays about bad dates, relationships, and one-night stands, but I found it so terribly sad. The whole time, I kept thinking Oh, sweetie, no. No, don’t sleep with that guy. No. That’s not going to help your self-esteem. It’s been a long time since I was on the dating scene but hoo boy, this woman had literally the worst luck with men. As a preview, her ex wrote a book about her, referring to her as his “fat-assed girlfriend,” which should give you an idea about the general temperature of the book.

There has been a lot of terrible news this week, as we are all aware. I haven’t mentioned the incredible sadness and fear for the people living in Ukraine, for all my Ukrainian friends, but of course that has been on my mind this week. Lots of love to all of you, from my little corner of the world. xo

A Week of Winter Outfits; One Hundred and One Weeks In

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When you were a kid, did you have paper dolls or Barbies or those Mattel Fashion Plates? I sure did and I loved them immoderately. I loved the idea of different clothes for different activities; I loved putting together the outfits and imagining what the doll would do in those outfits. Gardening! The opera! Or, in the case of my Princess Di paper dolls, dancing with John Travolta or heading to Balmoral for some kind of Scottish holiday! In my world, Princess Di was free of crushing sadness and eating disorders; her life was non-stop fun and excitement, and there was an outfit for every occasion.

What I’m saying is that I love clothes, then and now. I love my own clothes and I love other people’s clothes, too. I admire other people’s style, even when – maybe especially when – it is really different from mine. I love the thought of expressing oneself through one’s clothing, I love looking at new fashion trends, even when I have no intention of incorporating them into my own wardrobe – I’m looking at you, balloon leg jeans – and I absolutely LOVE accessories and how easy it is to add flair to an outfit.

To that end, I follow a number of fashion bloggers, from a woman in her 30s to a woman twice that and everything in between, and the blogs all have one thing in common: they are aspirational. I mean, one of them JUST posted about what to wear in St. Barth’s. Like, this isn’t information I NEED, but I like it. I love looking at the fashion blogs, with their gorgeous scenic backgrounds and their perfect clothes, but rarely do the outfits resonate with me in a I could wear that kind of way. Almost never do I see an outfit and think that it could fit into my life.

Also, I’m not going to St. Barth’s anytime soon, but if I do, I will know what to wear.

I am not a trendy woman in any way, nor do I believe in the Fashion Police, but I have one very strict rule that I follow when it comes to clothes, and that is that I should always feel good in my clothes. When I get dressed every morning, I want to feel happy, comfortable, and cute. If I don’t, something is wrong with my outfit. This is a very important distinction: something is wrong with my OUTFIT, something is NOT wrong with ME.

It is really important to me to get dressed in something that makes me feel good, every single day, no matter what the day has in store for me. That’s why I decided to write about all the outfits I wore last week, why I chose them, and my feelings associated with them. What else is there to write about in February? The snow? As a note, it’s winter here and currently very cold, but last week the temperatures are what I think of as mild winter temperatures – hovering around the zero mark, give or take a few degrees.

In the spirit of keeping it real, I have had photos taken at various places in my home, which is where I am most of the time, so no pretty backgrounds for me. Not interested in clothes? Skip forward to this week’s reading; I have a couple of great titles and one not-so-great title.

One Week Of Winter Outfits

Monday

This was Valentine’s Day, and it was also a teaching day, so I festively decided to wear my pink pants, which I bought in the 2016 Boxing Day sales; the tank and legwarmers are even older than that. The long-sleeved top is new, purchased online, and this was its debut. Regrets, I have them. The trouble with online shopping is that it’s so hard to tell what an item is going to look like. I expected this to be at least waist-length, but it barely covers my ribcage, not that I’m going to wear it without a tank underneath, but still. It’s short. It’s also really open in the back:

It turned out to be comfortable to teach in, but I would only wear this in a class with female students; I prefer a bit of coverage for the few older men that are in my Thursday class. So that I didn’t freeze for the rest of the day, I put on this tunic that I bought at Jacob many years ago, Jacob having gone out of business in 2015. I love this tunic, and I love these super-tall boots – they zip up the side so I get the funkiness of laces without the bother of laces.

Tuesday

I don’t normally have class on Tuesdays, but I was teaching a one-off for a friend, and so I put on this, which is one of my very favourite outfits. The sweater and legwarmers are so cozy, and I love the light grey long-sleeve top for extra coverage while teaching.

Plus, polka dots!

Wednesday

Wednesday is Grocery Day, and it was quite cold, so I layered up. I think I bought this sweater in about 2013 or 2014, and it’s still in great shape. The most sustainable fashion pieces are the ones that last forever, in my humble opinion.

The kitchen is my habitat for a good portion of the day, and a good portion of that portion sees me chopping vegetables. Please note that my hair matches my wall colour quite nicely; THAT is how you coordinate, people.

Thursday

I teach on Thursdays, so I slipped on this long cardigan to match the stripes in my tank top. I teach in a very chilly community centre, so I put on a long-sleeved tee and legwarmers. For fun I added my mala made for me by my friend Amy (HI AMY), although I’d never wear it to teach – the risk of getting smacked in the face is way too high.

All of these pieces are at least five to seven years old, but I think that the leggings and tee are much, much older. The tee is from Jacob and I’m sure I wore it in our annual family photo in the fall of 2010.

Friday

An outing! I had an outing that wasn’t a class OR groceries! I took the car for an oil change. You only live once, people.

This sweater and these jeans are fairly new. I love the cozy warmth and the fit of the sweater, and it’s so soft. I have it layered with a long-sleeve tee underneath, naturally.

Jeans! I have things to say. So, in the last six months or so, my body has changed. I am not going to tell you in what way it has changed, nor will I assign a value – positive or negative – to that change, but I am going to tell you that my jeans, purchased in 2014-15 no longer fit the way I wanted them to. I no longer felt cute or comfortable in them. I bought these jeans, and another pair, last Black Friday online, which sounds more bold than it really was, as I had tried on jeans from that store, Bootlegger, only a month prior. I am SO happy with them. They are a perfect fit, and they feel great.

I am not interested in judging changes to body shape, either my own or someone else’s. Body shapes change, and that is a neutral statement, it is not something we need to celebrate or condone. It just IS. And sometimes, that means new jeans.

This is my reading chair, where I spend a lot of my non-kitchen time. Please note cute and fuzzy companion, where he spends a lot of his time.

Saturday

I spent most of Saturday afternoon – surprise! – in the kitchen.

Very long time readers will recall my gig as a food writer over at YMC – all my recipes can be found here, if you’re interested – and at my time there, I amassed a number of very cute aprons, of which this was one. Also, shout-out to my Lee Valley apple corer/ peeler. I baked a pie for the boys, riffing on Jessica Seinfeld’s recipe for apple blackberry, and I am always grateful not to cripple up my hands peeling apples. Look at how silly it turned out!

Doesn’t it look like it’s winking and sticking it’s tongue out? Sassy thing.

Anyway, during my non-baking hours, I wore my other pair of new jeans, along with a black sweater over the stretchy grey top. Comfy and cute, and I actually had my hair down. The girl who cuts my hair chided me, saying that wearing it in a bun all the time causes breakage, and I promised her I would try to wear it down more often, which means, apparently, once a week.

Sunday

For me, Sunday is a day for long walks and cooking, and so jeans, a long warm tee (from Jacob again! RIP Jacob), and a nice thick black sweater from the Gap was just the ticket. These are the jeans I bought that ended up having too much stretch to them, and so I always wear a long shirt to cover up the inevitable sagging that occurs by early afternoon.

You can probably deduce for yourself that my general esthetic is a) lots of layers, b) cozy and comfortable pieces that I’ve had for many years, and c) black and grey. It works for my life, which may not include trips to St. Barth’s (YET), but is pretty cheery and pleasant nonetheless.

Pandemic Reading

The Art of Forgetting. Hmm. Well. I went in with decent expectations, as I’ve read a few books by this author – one last week! – and I have enjoyed them. However, this was…not good. I found the characters unlikeable and there was just so much about body weight, dieting, and “getting fat” talk. It was like Mean Girls, but grown up, and not funny. The author tried to tie together traumatic brain injury with empowering yourself, but most of the time I just found myself reading with a furrowed brow. Not great for my facial lines, save yourselves the trouble.

The Choice. Wow! This book! I cannot say enough about this incredibly inspiring memoir. The author is a Holocaust survivor, and she’s still alive today; she wrote this book at age 90. She was imprisoned at Auschwitz at age 16, and from there was marched to a number of work camps, and then subjected to the Death March and was found in a pile of bodies at the end of the war by American soldiers. She was an accomplished dancer and gymnast – she was cut from the Olympic team because she was Jewish – but when she was found after the war, she needed to learn how to walk again, she was so broken. Not only did she survive, but she thrived, immigrating to America with nothing, and building her way up to become a renowned psychologist, working with patients with traumatic stress disorders. This book is nothing short of incredible.

The Gift. This book was written after The Choice, and is more self-help than memoir. It is a wonderful book about seeing your darkest moments as your greatest teacher. It is inspiring and empowering.

How do you feel about fashion? Do you love getting dressed in the morning or is it a chore? I hope you enjoyed this little glimpse into my clothing life and, by extension, my home! xo

Valentines and Galentines; One Hundred Weeks In

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Tomorrow is the big day, everyone! It’s Half-Price Heart-Shaped Chocolate Day! I think I might pop out for a box of Ferraro Roche to take to my Thursday class, as they put up with my very dumb “archaeologists discovered a mummy covered in nuts and chocolates, they think it was the first Pharaoh Roche” joke.

Happy Valentine’s Day! I teach my usual Monday afternoon Strengthen and Tone Yoga class today, and I have made up little love packages for my ladies:

And of course there have been heart-shaped cookies and cake, because that is how I roll.

The cake was visually very imperfect but absolutely delicious, which feels like a Beauty Is Found Within kind of metaphor.

I know some people loathe these so-called Made Up Hallmark Holidays, but any reason for cookies, cake, and – tomorrow – half-price chocolate is a good reason, in my books.

My feelings towards Valentine’s Day have shifted many times in my life; things have evolved a lot from my high school days when the success of the day was directly proportional to the number of Candy Grams received. These days I tend to lean more into the Friendship Aspect of Valentine’s; in other words, Galentines!

Oh, how I love and treasure my girlfriends, past and present. I’m not a woman with many male friends – I do have them, but they are, with few exceptions, the male half of Couple Friends, or a Spouse of a Girlfriend – but I cherish my girls.

My friend Marion (HI MARION) posted this the other day:

I can’t stop thinking about this. How interesting it is that we are all made up of little pieces of people who come into our lives; I do firmly believe that everyone is in my life for a reason, even if they are not a part of my life anymore. It’s a very No (wo)man is an island feeling. Not an hour in the day goes by when I don’t think of a friend, and it’s more than just things I do; day-to-day associations and household items will remind me fondly of the friend in question. Recipes, gifts, books; all of those remind me of people in my life. Songs, especially, remind me of particular people – pretty much everyone in my life has a song I associate with them. Even certain yoga poses will remind me of friends or students. It’s like The Word Association Game in my head, all day, every day, if you want to know what it’s like to be me.

We all have an effect on people, often unknowingly. If you’re reading this, you have most likely influenced my life in some way, and I guarantee there is a song that I associate with you.

I have been reading Agapi Stassinopoulos’ new Speaking With Spirit, and the theme last week was “It’s an offering, not a transaction.” The idea is that if we think of everything in our life – what we do and what others do for us – as an offering, rather than something to be “paid back,” we can discover gratitude for even the smallest things. For example, think of the incredible steps that bring us clean water every single day. We turn the tap and voila, clean water. Think of the scientists who came up with filtration systems, the engineers that created the infrastructure, the people who work in filtration and who built the infrastructure, and the plumber who hooked your house up to the existing infrastructure. IT IS AMAZING. Such a small thing, but if your water gets shut off for any period of time, you know how very important it is. Gratitude for water! And electricity! And heat! All things we generally take for granted but are a marvel of technology, engineering, and effort.

Now, I’m not saying we should go through every minute thinking about this – our hearts would probably explode from gratitude, or we would be paralyzed thinking of all the amazing things in every single part of our lives – but it is worth a moment of marvel. The technology and process that brings us paper! Books being printed en masse, thank you Johann Gutenberg or the guy you stole the idea from. Distribution of books! Education systems that have us all literate!

What I’m saying is that I am grateful for my life and I am grateful for the people in it, including you, dear reader.

Speaking of gratitude, I had my booster shot on Friday. My husband and I walked over to the Alberta Health Services centre – it was like a date, but lame – on his lunch hour, and, predictably, things were running super behind. When I got my first shot, through AHS, I had a warning to only join the lineup 10 minutes before my appointment, but then the line itself took two and a half hours to get through. Similarly, on Friday I had a message not to arrive until five minutes prior to my appointment, which was exactly what I did, and then ended up waiting 45 minutes. THERE HAS TO BE A BETTER WAY. WHY EVEN HAVE APPOINTMENTS. Any vaccination at the local pharmacy has been perfectly on time, why not with AHS?

Well, that’s a small grumble. I had – and still have – a sore arm, and I was tired and low-grade feverish Friday night, so I took a nighttime Advil, which I have taken before and will take again, but wow, did things go sideways. My younger son was out at a wrestling tournament, and I wanted to stay up to hear how it went, but ended up passing out on the couch. When he did get home – at nine o’clock, which tells you something about me – I woke up hearing him excitedly talk about the match that he won, 18-14. I stumbled off the couch like a drunk, and hugged my other, non-wrestling son, telling him how proud I was of him. “Um, Mom, I’m glad you’re proud and everything, but I think you’ve got the wrong guy.” Oops. I repeated the process on the actual wrestling son, then stumbled to my bed where I – according to my husband – tried to set my alarm for some unknown reason, before passing out again. The next day, after eleven hours of sleep, I realized that I had put on a fresh, regular shirt instead of my pajama top, along with my normal pajama bottoms, and that prior to my couch sleep I had consumed an entire bag of white chocolate peppermint popcorn, very kindly sent to me by the lovely Kari (HI KARI THANK YOU). THE ENTIRE BAG, YOU GUYS. It was not a single serving bag, not by a long shot. It was a wild Friday night.

Pandemic Reading

Home Body. I have been reading Rupi Kaur’s poetry prior to my morning yoga practice, and it is really beautiful. I mean, look at this:

And this:

I think this could be part of every woman’s collection; the latter half of the book is very uplifting. However, I feel I must warn the reader that the first part of the book is very dark and there is content about sexual abuse and racism that is very upsetting.

Standard Deviation. Have you ever known, just KNOWN, that you would love a book and so you put off reading it, you save it and save it and wait until you NEED to read it? That’s what I did with this book. I have loved the other two Heiny books I have read, and I have been saving this until the perfect time. I pulled the trigger last week and let me tell you, it did NOT disappoint. I absolutely love Heiny, she has become one of my favourite authors, writing one of my favourite genres, which is “ordinary life made extraordinary” and “slice of life.” Because, plot-wise, well, there isn’t one really. There is no way to summarize what happens in this book in a succinct way because it is just LIFE. And I am 100% here for it. It’s a book about marriage, about friendship, about parenting, about special needs. It’s just so good and I am planning on asking for all of her books for my birthday, because they are all rereads for sure. The only thing is that now I’ve read this book, there are no more to look forward to.

The Mother Tongue: English and How It Got That Way. Have you, like me, ever wondered about the origins of language, how it develops in terms of speech, spelling and grammar? Have you ever wondered about dialects? How is British English so different from North American English? How do Liverpudlians sound so different from Londoners? How do Texans sound so different from Brooklynites? How do our swears originate? After all, technically, getting fucked can be very nice. If you’ve wondered any of these things, this book is for you! Note: it was published in 1990 and so it is dated. It’s so interesting, though. I mean, imagine writing the first dictionary. IMAGINE.

Don’t Make Me Turn This Life Around. I enjoyed this book about a woman – exactly my age – who finds out she’s ten years cancer-free and feels…meh. It’s a great commentary on the dangers of toxic positivity, how your life can look perfect but still be hard, how all pain is valid, and how the people we love are with us always.

One hundred weeks. I can hardly believe it! When I first started my weekly count, I didn’t think I’d get into the double digits, let alone triple. Well, here we are. Some people have asked me when I will stop my weekly count, and I will stop when this is no longer considered a Pandemic, which is not this week. Stay safe, everyone! Are you going to buy half-price chocolates? If so, what kind? Tell me everything. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Hygge-Chaka, Hygge-Hygge-Hygge-Chaka Edition

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I can’t stop this feeling, deep inside of me, January you just don’t realize what you do to me…when you are cold but it’s getting more light you let me know everything’s all right…

Ever since I read The Little Book of Hygge, I’ve been a bit obsessed with the concept: winter in Calgary is long, and being intentional about being cozy fits the bill. This January has been all over the map, weather-wise, from extreme cold to pretty mild, but windy days.

Some of the things featured in this month’s Favourite Things have been featured in previous Favourite Things; because of that, I had some doubts. Should I continue with Favourite Things if I’m repeating them? Should I press myself to continue with this monthly feature if I’m just going to write about the same things over and over? Do I have no new ideas for anything and is it all for nothing? Nothing, I say???

What can I say, we are in a global pandemic. Dark moments, even about silly blog features, happen. Originally I started Favourite Things with items that I had recently purchased, and now I just like to celebrate the things I like. Apparently, some of these things deserve celebration OVER AND OVER AGAIN. Celebrate the good things! Right? There are no RULES to Favourite Things other than being things that I love that month. There’s no LAW I can’t write about bum warmers over and over. THERE IS NO LAW.

Anyway. This month it is all the things that make me feel hygge. If you can’t feel hygge in January, when can you? Well, if you live in Calgary, there are plenty of opportunities, but I digress.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Hygge-Chaka Hygge-Hygge-Chaka Edition

All The Sweaters, All The Time

I follow a number of fashion blogs, several of which are in California, one in Texas, and one in Florida. The latter blogger once mentioned that she had two sweaters for cooler temperatures, and when I read that, I stared into the distance for a while. Two! I can’t even imagine a world in which I didn’t have a sweater on for nine months of the year. Nine months AT MINIMUM. I have an enormous collection of sweaters: some are light, for mildly cold days, and some could be considered a cold-weather jacket for warmer climates.

Bonus: fuzzy slippers and fuzzy dog, both hygge.

I wear a lot of long cardigans, especially on teaching days when I need to strip down to only two layers (yoga tank and long sleeve tee) for class, without ruining my hair. If I’m not teaching, I wear pullover sweaters with layers underneath. Always, always layers. I can’t think of a single instance wherein I would have a sweater on without at least a tee or tank underneath.

Warm Up That Booty

I have mentioned bum warmers so many times, but they deserve a mention for their place in the hygge lifestyle. A local woman makes these out of thrifted sweaters, and they are just so cute and snuggly.

I have three that I alternate between, but this one is my current favourite as it’s a little bit longer. The other two have matching mittens, but this one goes nicely with my battery-powered heated mittens.

She’s Got Legs, She Knows How To Warm Them

Bums aren’t the only thing that need warming! I wear legging-style yoga pants most days, and those thin pants are just not enough for warmth. On teaching days I wear fitted, stirrup-style legwarmers to keep me warm in that cold, cold community centre; the floor is linoleum over concrete, and it is VERY cold, even in the spring and fall.

Years ago my mother-in-law knitted me several pairs of legwarmers, and they are incredibly thick and cozy. I wear them for walks on days that are cold, but not cold enough for snow pants.

They are too heavy to wear indoors or while teaching but perfect for walking. Options! It’s good to have them.

Sock It To Me

On non-teaching-but-still-wearing-yoga-pants days, I like to wear super-long socks as an extra layer. I have a number of pairs, mostly in black or charcoal.

It takes me a significant amount of time to get dressed in the morning.

It’s Tea Time, Bitches.

One of the interesting things, reading about hygge culture, is that Denmark is a huge consumer of coffee. Me too, Denmark, me too.

The very first thing I do every morning, before I drink two glasses of water, before I wash my face and brush my teeth, before ANYTHING at all, is start the coffee pot. I drink essentially a pot of black coffee every morning and I am not ashamed to admit it. The coffee is not strong, I just like a lot of it. Don’t worry: I drink a ton of water every day too, about 4 litres a day, so I am pretty hydrated and also, yes, I do have to use the bathroom a lot. Sometimes I’ll meet someone who doesn’t drink coffee and never has, and I will be in awe, wondering what that’s like.

Anyway, I have developed a Tea Ritual in the afternoon. When you drink an entire pot of coffee before 8:30 in the morning, you probably don’t need more caffeine in your life. I mean, you do you, but I don’t need more caffeine in my life. However, I like a nice warm drink in the afternoon as sort of a break in my (not-so-busy) schedule. It’s a little treat to look forward to, choosing an herbal tea from my massive stockpile and sipping.

Remember this mug? Leanne sent it to me (HI LEANNE) in the Secret Santa Mug Swap, and it is absolutely perfect for an afternoon cuppa. It’s the perfect size and shape, and it makes me feel cozy and hygge just looking at it, let alone drinking from it.

Girl Put Your Apron On, Tell Me Your Favourite Song

You know what is super hygge? Baking delicious things!

I kind of combined two recipes, and made some changes to end up with this pumpkin swirl loaf, which turned out to be super delicious. The boys asked me if I EVER follow a recipe exactly and I had to really think about it. Pie crust! I never deviate from a pie crust recipe because, let’s face it, pie crust is a bitch to make.

Here’s a Happy Homemaker Hint for you: when rolling out pie crust, roll it between two pieces of wax paper. Take off the top one, and just flip it over onto the pie pan, and peel off the bottom layer. It’s so much easier, although it can still stick and make you swear.

Anyone who knows me knows I despise pie, particularly apple – it’s a grievous waste of good apples! – but I lovingly make them for my family. Well, lovingly and swearingly; as you can see, I had to do some crust patching. Ah well, the whole thing lasted less than 24 hours, so I guess no one cares about esthetics.

Those are my favourite things for this chilly month of January; things that make me feel all the hygge. What are your favourite things? xo

Goals, Goals, Goals; Ninety-Six Weeks In

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If you’re not singing that title a la Motley Crue, then I don’t know what to say. If you are, sorry/ not sorry for the earworm.

As I’ve mentioned before, I don’t set particular goals or resolutions or words-of-the-year in January, but I do like to look at my collective year-round goals during this month. What can I say, I like the Fresh Start feeling of the New Year, even if it is January 17, and New Year’s already feels like it was several months ago. Time has no meaning.

You know, I’m not even sure that I can classify most of these as goals. They are just things I aim to do every day. Well, I guess technically that is the definition of a goal, but it doesn’t feel like I need to strive to do these things; at this point, they are just habits, habits that I write down in my agenda every week as a to-do list.

Honestly, I think that is the key to any goal: make it a habit and write it down so that you can cross it off, either mentally or physically. What is it about a list that I love? I have no idea, but it’s motivational.

Before we get into that, I have to tell you something that brings me joy and happiness every single day, and that is the increasing amount of daylight. I first noticed a couple of weeks ago that it wasn’t dark at 4:30 pm, and then I started watching for the sunset. Now it happens around 5, and the sky is dusky and navy blue for a few minutes after that, and it’s really lovely.

More daylight! I also realize that since giving up the news, I have more TIME in the day. I didn’t think I spent much time reading the news, but apparently doomscrolling and obsessively checking Covid numbers and updates took up more time than I thought, which gives me time to do other things, like work on my goals/ habits.

So, goals! I’m going to call these all goals, for lack of a better word. These are the Quantifiable Goals, as opposed to my Hippy-Dippy Goals; Yoda-like, there is a do-or-do-not-do feel to them.

Food Is Delicious, Can I Have Some More Please

One goal that I started to work on a few months ago is to add new recipes to my roster. Longtime readers will remember my Eating A Rainbow meal plan that I literally never deviate from. Like, never. During the Christmas holidays, we had Greek salad on a Thursday instead of a Friday and my kids both told me that they were confused all of Friday as they thought it was Saturday. We’re having Greek salad and it’s NOT Friday, what’s happening, all is chaos and turmoil.

You’ll be happy to know that I am still not deviating from my meal plan, but I am adding to it: Pasta Night is still Monday, but occasionally I’ll try a new sauce, Stir Fry Night is still Tuesday, but I might try a different kind of stir-fry. I know! Saturdays, I might try an entirely new thing. I know. How wild can I be?

My general goal is to try two new recipes a month, whether that be for a meal or dessert or baked goods. So far, I’ve nailed it for December and January, so I hope to keep that up. I have so many cookbooks and I don’t use them frequently; I am more of a free-styler when it comes to cooking. I am a recipe developer’s nightmare as I use them as a vague jumping-off point, but still! I’m trying new things! I received this book for Christmas:

Did I follow the recipes to a tee? No, I did not. But so far, the recipes that I free-styled from it are GREAT – Manchurian sauce for stir-fry night and “nacho seasoning,” which I used on one of my usual black-bean recipes – and will be in the regular rotation.

Joyful Movement

Whenever I think of Joyful Movement I think of this:

Mmm. The Land of Chocolate.

The truth is that I really love cardio workouts and getting sweaty and red-faced.

Because I do love this kind of workout, I usually do something sweaty six days a week. The key for me is to do things that I love: Peloton biking and running are the main activities, but I am on a running hiatus right now. I will not run outside when it’s slippery, snowy, icy, and/ or below zero, so typically I use the treadmill at my fitness club for the winter months. My fitness club is still open and requires all members to be fully vaccinated to use the facility, but even so I don’t feel great breathing heavily, maskless, while others around me are doing the same. Instead I’m getting cozy with my elliptical trainer, which is fairly boring, but I find a good playlist helps a lot with my motivation.

I classify these things as Joyful Movement because I truly enjoy them; if ever I feel like I have to do something, rather than I want to do something, I take it as a sign to stop.

A small note here: a year ago I started strength training, and it is NOT a Joyful Movement, in fact, I kind of hate it, BUT I keep up with it because I feel it’s important for injury and osteoporosis prevention. I also keep all strength workouts to ten minutes or so, and really, I can do anything for ten minutes. Right? Right. Occasionally one of my sons will observe me doing my workout, with a massively bitchy look on my face, and say “Go Mom! You’re totally not going to get The Osteo!” which makes me smile and motivates me to keep going.

Go Outside And Play

I make a point to go for a walk every day, every single day, even when it’s minus 30. I think the fresh air is so important and even the coldest walks boost my mood, albeit because I feel hardy and accomplished when I go out in such weather. If I’m walking by myself, I listen to podcasts, which are also Joyful Things.

Keep The Streak, But Don’t Be Weird About It

Speaking of walks, in March 2020 I decided I would get my daily step goals, as dictated to me by my Garmin watch, and keep that streak going. People, I kept that streak for 504 days, FIVE HUNDRED AND FOUR. I finally broke the streak because I was quite ill with inadvertent iron poisoning, the story/ cautionary tale of which I will save for another time.

I felt sad about breaking my streak, even though I couldn’t be far from a bathroom, let alone go on a 5km walk. But honestly, I don’t know what I was thinking. Did I think I would keep my streak FOREVER? Would I keep going until I had one foot in the grave? I had to shake it off and let it go, thinking I can start a NEW streak, won’t that be fun or something, and now I’m on a 147 day streak. Will I exceed my previous streak? Who knows? Who cares! The point is, sometimes you have to let things go.

On December 28, 2020 I started a Peloton activity streak, which means I am on day 385; 385 little blue dots! If you know, you know. I think this is something that sounds more impressive than it is: for example, when I was on vacation I kept my streak by doing 5 minute stretches or meditations. Hey, logging an activity is logging an activity, and although I meditate every day by myself, sometimes I like a guided meditation, especially when it will earn me a blue dot.

Put That OM In The OMG

While we are on the topic of meditation, this is something I do, along with my yoga practice, every single day. Most days my practice takes around 45-55 minutes, but some days I recognize that I need less. On those days, I may do only standing postures and then sit in meditation for 20 minutes, or I may do a restorative practice, or I merely sit in meditation. I think there is an idea out there that if you roll out your mat, you have to “make it count” and do a certain number of postures for a certain amount of time, and I am here to say THAT IS NOT CORRECT. Some days a five-minute meditation may be all you need, some days you may take child’s resting pose for 20 minutes, and some days you might spend an hour on your practice. And when I say “you,” I mean “me.”

Tickling The Ivories

A year or so ago, I was talking to my son, who is a drummer, about my piano playing. I was finding it hard to learn anything new, my fingers just weren’t what they used to be. Yeah Mom, maybe if you actually practiced more, it would be easier, he said, and he’s right. I vowed to play at least three songs a day, every weekday.

It’s incredible what actual practice will do for you. My fingers remember all my old exam material, I can play without music in front of me, and best of all, I’m really enjoying finding new music to play. Some days I’m pressed for time and play three one-page songs; other days, I go through all four verses of Piano Man.

Pandemic Reading

In 2021, I read 156 books! I do not have a goal number for 2022, but I try to pick up a book instead of my phone when I am bored or have a few minutes to spare. More books, no doomscrolling, we shall see how long this lasts but so far so good.

I Heart Hawaii. I discovered, AFTER reading this, that this book is number eight of eight in a series. Eight! Well, I did not need to read any previous books about the foibles of a British girl in New York City to follow the plot of this one. It was just silly and fun and fluffy, and I recommend it if you just want some mind candy. It’s nice to read about Hawaii in January, I think.

A Carnival of Snackery. Oh, I love David Sedaris! Although I don’t enjoy his fiction, his personal essays are pure gold. If you are like me, you’ll LOVE this book. It’s comprised of his diaries and it’s just so good. At times I laughed so hard my husband came upstairs, alarmed, thinking I was having some kind of breakdown. Even Barkley, who is deaf, would pick up his head and stare at me as I cry-laughed, unable to breathe. It’s not all hilarity though; much is sad and thoughtful and tragic. Since it’s diary entries, there are many current events: the Iraq War, elections, school shootings, police violence, racism, and violence towards and changing attitudes about homosexuality. It ends, of course, with the pandemic. Throughout are observations about his various relationships, and particularly poignant is his fraught relationship with his father, who suffers ill health and is actually diagnosed with – but recovers from, at age 97 – Covid.

Devotions. I started reading this, poem by poem, in March 2020. I would start my day with one poem. After a while, I added other poetry to the mix and then would read one or two poems a week. I had been holding off on reading the last few poems for a couple of months, just going back and rereading favourites, because I didn’t want to finish this. In the words of Grace in Alias Grace when she is asked why she’s not eating the apple given her, Then it would be gone. Finally, I did read the last poem. Mary Oliver’s poetry resonates with me so deeply; her love of nature, her uplifting messages. I just might start again from the beginning.

Goals, goals, goals. That’s all of mine – any of yours you want to share? xo

Hippy-Dippy Goals; Ninety-Four Weeks In

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Happy New Year!

As I mentioned in my 2021 roundup, the year ended – and the New Year started – on kind of a low point. The boys were supposed to be going back to school tomorrow, but on December 30 it was announced that winter break would be extended to the 10th, and January diploma exams, of which my older son was due to write three, would be cancelled.

For the past several months, I have been saying to myself that as long as the kids are in school, I can take anything. I could go back to patchy grocery store shelves, I could line up at Costco, my husband could continue to work out of our basement, I could wear a mask anywhere and everywhere and see friends outdoors, I could forgo parties and travel and everything else, just let the kids be in school. They have been so happy in these past four months, and, well. Here we are.

The announcement made me feel like folding in on myself like an accordion, and to just go to bed. I did, however, get up on New Year’s Eve, rolled out my yoga mat, and picked up my poetry books. I read the final Rumi poem of the year, I did it, you guys, and then, because it was completely uninspiring to me, I opened up Mary Oliver’s Devotions and came across this:

This whole pandemic, all ninety-four weeks of it, I have been thinking to myself Just Keep Swimming. But it occurred to me, after reading this, that the past ninety-four weeks have had a lot of long lonely falls and frenzied risings. Perhaps all these swings will mean that our children will be the most resilient generation, learning to pivot and adapt and thrive in any circumstances.

My younger son scoffs at the idea of New Year’s resolutions or goal setting; he sets goals throughout the year, not just in January. I am the same way; throughout the year I add goals or concepts or mantras that I want to live by, and then I start right away. However, it’s nice to lay them out in January, feeling like it’s a fresh start; at the least, January is a good time to reflect on past goals and future ones. There’s nothing quite like a brand-new calendar to make you feel fresh and rejuvenated.

OKAY, CALENDAR, I’LL TRY.

It must be said that the majority of my goals are completely unquantifiable. Not all of them – I’ve had “buy a new bra” on my annual list for YEARS and finally, last year, I bought not only one, but THREE, STRIKE IT FROM THE TO-DO LIST – but most. How do you measure “mindfulness,” for example? I like having unquantifiable goals, though, because they are things that you can always keep in mind and work on throughout the year, and easily add to. Over the next couple of weeks, I am going to lay out some actually quantifiable goals that I work on daily. I mean, what else is there to write about in January? The never-ending feelings of despair that come from nearly two years of pandemic life? The fact that my teenagers will never experience normal high school life? The worry that my sons’ activities that they love will be cancelled? The concern about their education and preparation for adult life? NO. I’ve written enough about that. I’ve thought enough about that. We have all had enough.

Anyway, for today, I want to talk about the concepts and mantras that I use for everyday living.

Embrace The Season

Back in *checks blog* June 2021, I was inspired to Embrace the Season, by an incredible woman who has since passed. Rest in peace, Melanie. I think that Embracing the Season that you are in is probably the best way to go through life; you are here, this is now.

There are wonderful, joyful, inspiring things happening in every season of our lives, yes, even this one, yes, even though it’s actually minus 28 right now. It’s Winter, both literally and figuratively, let’s treat ourselves like favoured children, like our most loved ones. Right? Right.

Bloom Where You Are Planted

This goes with Embracing the Season. I’m planted here, in this city, and this is where I’ll bloom. I can make things better one tiny step at a time; I can do this with my yoga classes and my interactions with people, friends and strangers alike, I can make my yard and home into something beautiful, I can write things that will hopefully reach people in the way that I intend. I’m going to bloom, damn it.

Does anyone remember the old poem called You Learn? It was sort of about breakups and relationships, and I read it as a teenager. Back then, it was deeply meaningful to me; I’m pretty sure I read it after a breakup. Oh, the fires of youth. Anyway, there is a line in there that I have remembered lo these many years, and it was Plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. Let’s plant our own gardens, and we can bloom in them.

Friluftsliv

It feels very appropriate to talk about Friluftsliv when it’s MINUS 28. I first discovered this concept in the fall of 2020, and I have adopted it in my life. It’s a Norwegian word that means, roughly, outdoor living, and goes with the idea that there is no bad weather, just bad clothes. I like to tie Friluftsliv in with Embracing the Season and Blooming Where You Are Planted because this is where I live, and where I live is more often cold and unpleasant than not. I go for a walk every day, no matter the weather, and I can tell you that dressing appropriately is the key. With proper clothing, even minus 30 is doable, with the bonus that I feel like a hardy Norwegian superstar afterwards. This segues nicely into…

Hygge

I absolutely love the concept of hygge – am I spiritually Danish? Maybe. – because what could be better than coziness and warmth in the winter? I see lots of books and warm drinks and baking in my future; not that this is a change for me, but still. Hygge.

Gratitude and Awe

Sometimes it’s easy to have feelings of gratitude and awe; maybe the sky is brilliantly blue and the trees are covered with snow, and it’s a perfect scene. Maybe my family picks up some of the household chores without being asked, gratitude, gratitude. Maybe we will get an email from the school that says the kids are going back – too much to ask? Maybe.

Several months ago I was listening to an interview with Giselle Bunchen, of all people, and she said that she practices gratitude daily; when she has a plate of fruit she thinks of the farmers, of the sun and the rain that helped the fruit to grow, the people who pick the fruit, the person who drove the truck to the supermarket, and the people who work at the supermarket. When you think about it that way, an apple can seem like a miracle. Then I was reading Wake Up To The Joy In You, and there was a paragraph about the miracle that is a book: the process to make paper, the years of perfecting the printed word, the writer who wrote the book, and the miles the book has travelled to be in your hands. When you start thinking about life that way, everything is miraculous. It takes practice, but I’m trying.

Pandemic Reading – The Year Long Books

A Year With Rumi. I did it! I finished this! I did consider, very briefly, not finishing, but then the day after I posted about it, the poem of the day was The Guest House, which is probably my favourite Rumi poem (the bar is kind of low), and I took that as a sign to keep going. 365 poems and just a handful resonated with me; apparently I’m not a Rumi person. “Is it because he’s a man?” my son asked me. Maybe?

Wake Up To The Joy In You. I loved this book of meditations so much that I think I will re-read it in 2022. I read one chapter a week and then kept the meditation in mind throughout the week. I cannot say enough about this book; it’s an incredible journey of self-care and self-acceptance and self-love, and what could be a better thing to start the year with? I mean, look at this last chapter. EXACTLY WHAT I NEEDED TO READ.

Pandemic Reading – The Regular Week

How To Be A Victorian. Good lord I am glad to live in the modern age, even with a global pandemic and the polarization of our population on literally every topic. AT LEAST WE HAVE WASHING MACHINES. And food. And toilets. And central heating. And pretty much everything else. This book is an incredibly well-researched book about daily life in the Victorian age – the author has lived and worked on a “Victorian farm” and I admire her commitment to detail. Corsets, skirts, brushing her teeth with soot. Going without water-based washing for four months. Eating suet, SUET PEOPLE. Anyway, some chapters dragged for me and others were fascinating, particularly the home remedies and medical chapter. Oh! And the air quality in Victorian London was so gross – pea soup fog, no proper sewage…yay for the modern age! There is a passage about the pea soup fogs of London; at the worst of times you could wave your hand in front of your face and not see it. IMAGINE. Anyway, thanks to my friend Jeni (HI JENI) for the recommendation. Talk about gratitude. I AM GRATEFUL FOR MY LIFE, I SWEAR.

The Relatives. I was really interested to read this as I have been mixed on Gibb’s books. I loved Sweetness in the Belly, but did not love This Is Happy – sorry to all of you who adore that book. I really liked The Relatives, a lot. In fact, I devoured it. Such an interesting cast of characters, all interrelated but unknowingly. I am going to give some trigger warnings here for…a lot of things? Infertility, child neglect, abuse, and a lot of kind of gross imagery. But for all that, I really enjoyed this.

Love and Other Words. This was so disappointing for me. I really like this author and I really do like a nice, light romance, but this just didn’t do it for me. It dragged so much and I had a hard time caring about the characters and the story line. Blah blah blah. Anyway, not for me but on to the next book!

I feel like this post has been a bit of a journey for me, since I started writing it. I am still low-level worried and anxious and sad about school, but we are here, we are together, we’ve come this far and we can keep going. Right? I mean, let’s think about the Victorians. We have running CLEAN water, we might be facing Covid but we have vaccines and medical care and, presumably, we are not going to all die of cholera, because of the running water. My kids are at school, not in a sweatshop doing child labour, and today I’m going to bake muffins and do laundry and neither of those things will require massive amounts of physical exertion. Life is good, even when it feels a bit disheartening. How are you feeling, this New Year? Tell me everything. xo