Category Archives: Fashion

Dressy Sweatpants and Mom Jeans; Thirty-Two Weeks In

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I absolutely appreciate when companies know their customers; I love when businesses see an opportunity and seize it, particularly this year. It’s a Read The Room kind of thing; find out what the people want and give it to them.

Which is why I find it endlessly entertaining, the advertisements that I have been getting on Facebook lately. It is almost exclusively Peloton gear followed by a company that is making something called “Dressy Sweatpants” or “Dressy Leggings.” It feels very yin-yang to me. It’s the season to move! alongside Why people love the Dressy Sweatpant! Leggings, but Dressy! You guys. I’m all about comfort in our own homes, but let’s face facts here: there is nothing dressy about sweatpants. We can add all the ruching we like but they are still, ultimately, sweatpants.

This is absolutely not a criticism of sweatpants; after all, I am a woman who wears yoga pants at least five days a week. I wear yoga tanks with built-in shelf bras almost daily, to the point that it feels weird to wear a regular bra. I am all about being comfortable in our clothes and in our own skin, but we don’t need to make believe that the clothes we love and wear are something that they are not. Dress pants are dress pants. Sweatpants are sweatpants. IT IS OKAY TO BE WHO WE ARE, AND THAT EXTENDS TO PANTS.

Wow, I have feelings about this.

I was rummaging in my legwarmer drawer and discovered an unopened package of black control-top pantyhose. Pantyhose, you guys. Like, to wear with a dress. I stared at it like it was a relic from another time, which, let’s face it, it is. I tried not to think of my closetful of beautiful (black) dresses; when will they be worn again? Who knows. And heels! Well, it’s best to put that thought away for a while.

Why, you may ask, was I rummaging in my legwarmer drawer? First of all, yes, I have an entire drawer devoted to legwarmers, and that is because I live on Planet Hoth, apparently. Calgary is a city that takes mean-reversion, with respect to temperatures, very seriously; the gorgeous fall weather has completely turned to the depths of winter. As a brief aside, it was minus 18 yesterday morning when I went to the car wash, to help out my husband who was going to put on my winter tires. I filled the car with gas while I was there and I am not exaggerating: it took nearly twenty minutes to fill the tank. Twenty minutes! I kept looking at the numbers moving so slowly, and I would go into the station to tell the attendant that there was something wrong. “It must be because of the cold,” he told me, which, well. It’s Calgary. Minus 18, while unpleasant, is not unusual, and I have filled my car in much colder temperatures. However, there was nothing to be done about it as I’d already prepaid. I tried to be zen and just drink my travel mug of coffee and scroll through my phone, thinking this is what I’d be doing anyway, at home, but meanwhile, I was freezing and wondering if there was a It’s Going To Blow kind of emergency going on with the pump.

Last week was my husband’s birthday and he took the day off work; our original plan was to go hiking in the mountains, but the black ice and blowing snow on the highway deterred us. We ended up in a provincial park in the foothills, and the minus 13 windchill meant that we had the whole park to ourselves! We ended up hiking 8 km in gusting wind and snow, but I am trying to embrace my Nordic ancestry with the mantra there’s no bad weather, just bad clothes and hence, legwarmers. Well, legwarmers and many other layers too.

Circling back to companies and businesses, I have been getting many, many texts lately from Garage, a store I have never shopped at in my life. How did they get my number? Was it sold to them by some other store? I have no idea, but I am amused at their constant texts to me about buying the coolest mom jeans. The Coolest Mom Jeans. I have much to say about this, but mostly: Wrong Audience.

Do any moms – and the group to which I am referring is my own mid-forties age group – actually wear Mom Jeans? I mean technically, we are moms, and so our jeans are mom jeans, but as I am sure you know, I am referring to the high-waisted, pleated front jeans that were ubiquitous in the early nineties. I think there is some kind of Fashion Law that states if you wore something in high school, and the style comes around again – like it has with these specific, high-waisted, loose-fitting, fitted-ankle jeans – then you should not wear it again. Not that I need a Fashion Law to tell me what to do. It’s not a thing that is going to happen anyway.

Remember when the Blue Jays won the World Series? I was rocking the Mom Jeans back then, although at the time they were just Jeans.

I’m not sure anything in this photo could be more “early nineties” if it tried. Pirate blouse! Mom jeans! Spiral permed hair! Evian water! The home decor!

Anyway, thank you very much, Garage, but I am not revisiting my erstwhile youth.

It occurs to me that, since I don’t know anyone at all in the Mom category who wears Mom Jeans, perhaps they should be renamed Grandma Jeans as I think that style is more of my OWN mother’s generation.

Unless – UNLESS – the younger generation of moms are all wearing these jeans. This just occurred to me right now. All of my mom friends are in their forties, but we are the Old Moms. The Young Moms, for all I know, could be rocking these. Meanwhile, I am living in yoga pants and long sweaters and am being marketed “dressy sweatpants” and “leggings, but dressy.” That is, when I’m not getting texts about the latest Mom Jeans.

On another note, this week Le Chateau announced that they are closing their doors; Canadian women of a certain age sighed with nostalgic sadness on hearing that. Le Chateau was where I spent my hard-earned babysitting and Pizza Hut money; I saved up to buy a pair of red plaid hot pants – HOT PANTS – and wore them with black tights, a turtleneck, and a blazer for my first day of Grade Eleven, at a new school. I don’t often wish that we had cell phones when I was in high school, but I wish I had a photo of that outfit. Instead, I will leave you with this classic, from a class trip to Italy:

That was the same blazer I started the year with, sweetly paired with jeans – high waisted and belted, I am sure – and a floral crop top. Ah, the spirit of youth.

Pandemic Reading

I am not going to pan this book entirely because it had a nice underlying theme – be who you are, accept other people for who they are – and it had great descriptions of clothing and society in 1950s New York, Miami, and Havana. However, the plot line was ridiculous and the book itself was very silly.

I like to read popular books to see what the hype is all about, and this one was decent – but ultimately unsatisfying and disappointing. It could have been so much more, but wasn’t.

This was very fun; it’s a contemporary Bengali classic and a translation, which I always find interesting. Three generations of Bengali women, with a little reincarnation thrown in…quite fun and, despite the name, light.

Happy Halloween week, everyone! The decorative gourds are getting mushy and there is too much snow to put up the gravestones and crosses, but who knows! Anything can happen. Don’t forget that Saturday is a Blue Moon AND it’s time change, so let’s take a deep breath and have a treat or two.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Thanksgiving Edition

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With the Thanksgiving weekend, the amazing streak of weather has ended, leaving us with mostly bare trees and, well, some snow. I’m not sad, though; I knew the streak would end and I’m just happy, in a We’ll Always Have Paris kind of way.

“You do realize, this is what it’s like in the rest of the world?” a student said to me last week as I marvelled at the fact that we still had leaves on the trees in October. Leaves! On the trees! In October! The rest of the world is lucky, because this is a rare and precious GIFT in Calgary. Normally, we have a hard freeze in early September, followed by a gusting windstorm, which typically means that we have bare trees from September through to May. Wow, writing that down is a bit depressing. Anyway, NOT THIS YEAR.

Finally I understand what all you fall-crazy people are talking about. Usually fall is just a precursor to the long winter ahead, but NOT THIS YEAR. Any year that winter doesn’t start in September, well, that’s one less month of winter. Every day, every single day of this pandemic, I have been spending a lot of time outside, walking and/or running. The past six weeks, with glorious sunshine and warm temperatures, each walk has felt like a beautiful gift and I find myself humming look around, look around, how lucky we are to be alive right now.

Last week I went for an early morning 6 km before dropping the kids at school; I watched the sun come up and brighten the sky. When I started the run it was dark and drizzly, and when I was finishing, I saw a double rainbow.

If there is one thing that this pandemic has taught me, it is to appreciate every little thing that there is to appreciate. As Ma Ingalls always said, usually when the crop failed or they were almost literally starving or freezing to death, there’s no great loss without some small gain. Many things have been lost in this pandemic, but I am determined to keep my eyes open for all gains.

And it was Thanksgiving this weekend! So I think it is appropriate to write…

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Thanksgiving Edition

The Reno

One year ago, we started our renovation of our vacation place, which was my husband’s grandmother’s house. I am incredibly thankful for it for many reasons – reliably flushing toilet! functional kitchen! – but mostly, it has given us a beautiful place to stay in order to safely visit my mother-in-law. The aforementioned functional kitchen also means that I was able to roast a bunch of vegetables and chickpeas, and make a big salad, and contribute to the Thanksgiving dinner that I otherwise would have had almost nothing to eat at. After eating a plate of peas and carrots last year, and then later sneaking into the kitchen to scarf down peanut butter toast in secret, this is a huge gift.

My contribution!

Also, it has a perfect place for me to drink my coffee and smoothies at, while reading.

Fall Colours

A few weeks ago we visited my parents for my dad’s birthday, and I have never seen such colours at that time of the year. Am I turning into a Fall Person? What’s next? Pumpkin spice lattes? (answer: no).

It’s Decorative Gourd Season, Motherfuckers

This never gets old; a friend pointed out it was written ELEVEN years ago and wow, sometimes it seems like life is one of those fast-forward cartoons of pages tearing off of calendars. Anyway, the Co-Op had an assortment of decorative gourds, white pumpkins, and, of course, the regular kind. They were also selling bags of assorted decorative gourds but it turns out I have Real Opinions on decorative gourds and so carefully chose each one carefully from the bin.

There is a competition in the neighbourhood between my husband and a younger guy down the street, when it comes to seasonal decorations. As I was walking the dog, the young upstart asked me where OUR Halloween decorations were, as his have been up for two weeks already. Game on, shit is getting real this weekend. In the meantime, my decorative gourd display is the best motherfucking decorative gourd display on our street, DEAL WITH IT.

My dear friend Taryn (HI TARYN) gave me this sweet thing, so I can celebrate Decorative Gourd Season year-round. IT IS ALWAYS DECORATIVE GOURD SEASON IN THE BOYHOUSE NOW, MOTHERFUCKERS.

Grapes and Apples, Oh My

I know, I know, I just wrote about apples, but the season is full-on and I’m gorging. My mother-in-law saved me this “small amount” of Sheraton grapes from harvest a couple of weeks ago and my younger son and I tried our best to eat them all on the long weekend. We failed.

Typical conversation with my mother-in-law:

Her: Do you want me to save you some grapes?

Me: Sure! Just a small amount, you know, a few bunches would be great.

Her: sets aside ten pounds, thinking that is a small amount appropriate for one to two people to eat in three days

If I had one more day, I could have finished them. Alas.

My New Running Pants

To be honest, now that there is snow on the ground I’m going to be taking my running workouts back to the treadmill, but these funky new pants from Lululemon are my new favourite and have extended my season outside. They have pockets! And lots of support! And sweat vents! And I’m colourful like a speedy peacock!

Seasonal Masks

It all started when my older son mentioned he wanted a Halloween style mask; my friend Liana (HI LIANA) mentioned her friend Maria. She had made some masks that I had bought back in the summer, and it turns out she had just got some seasonal fabric for Halloween and Christmas. Well, and I had to get some adorable llama and birdie ones, just because.

Thank You For Being A Friend

In the spirit of gratitude, I want to extend my thanks to you, dear reader, for indulging me by reading this blog. My goodness, it has been TWELVE YEARS. Thank you for being a friend. xo

Mask courtesy of my friend Michelle (HI MICHELLE)!

Everything’s Coming Up Milhouse; Twenty-Nine Weeks In

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Two incredible things of note happened this week: I got excused from jury duty, and my son shaved off his moustache.

I am a woman who believes strongly in body autonomy, and that everyone should be able to express themselves via personal style, and yet. Yet I am happy that he – voluntarily, I hasten to point out – is no longer moustachioed.

As for jury duty, well, I do not think I need to say more. My grandmother, apparently, had wanted to serve on jury duty for her entire life and wasn’t called until she was in palliative care. Sorry, Grandma! I’m pretty relieved. I said to my husband that actually, I wouldn’t mind jury duty if I a) had nothing else to do, and b) it wasn’t a grisly or horrifying trial like a murder or assault, but something “nice.” What, you may ask, would be a “nice” trial? That I do not know. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I implore you to find this sparkly unicorn guilty of horn theft because, as you will see, SHE IS BUT A HORSE.

In any case, no jury duty and no moustache: everything’s coming up Milhouse!

Also this week I finally had my annual mammogram. All the diagnostics centres were closed for a few months in the spring, and it took me several weeks of calling and being on hold to book this appointment, back in July. I know many of you aren’t eligible to get mammograms until you are 50, but my requisition forms state “lumpy and dense” and so I go annually, and have for several years. Lumpy and dense. The feminine mystique stands to take a bit of a beating here.

Medical masks are mandatory at the diagnostics centre, as opposed to cloth ones, and as soon as I was out of the building I switched to my cloth one because this is where I am at, now, that I feel unfashionable without a mask that goes with my outfit. I have leveled up.

My sons wear masks all day long to school, and even when walking home after school, if they are walking with friends. My older son went so far as to say that he actually thinks “people look more attractive with masks,” and both sons have said to me, separately, that even when the pandemic is over, they will still wear masks in certain situations to avoid breathing in other people’s germs and to keep other people from getting sick. After all, my younger son said to me, I have all these masks, I might as well use them.

Is this Stockholm Syndrome?

I was talking to my friend Nicole (HI NICOLE) about this, and she said she hopes to see a cultural shift, in which we are not, as a society, constantly pressured to be in public while ill. This is an excellent point. Nicole is a professor and I confessed to her that while I was in university, I showed up to countless classes and exams sick, due to the stressful possibility of missing key concepts or getting a poor grade. If you recall, missing exams meant that you really needed a doctor’s note to be excused or rescheduled, and who among us goes to the doctor for the common cold? I clearly remember writing a third-or-fourth year final and using up an entire purse package of tissues while I coughed and sneezed and blew my nose. Who even knows how many people I would have passed that cold on to. Even think about pre-pandemic commercials for cold and flu medication, that advertised dosing up because no one can afford to take a sick day, least of all mothers who are busily Doing It All.

Well, maybe there will be a shift. The thought of just doping ourselves up to alleviate cold and flu symptoms and then going about our day-to-day lives seems so antiquated right now, just like being indoors in a public place without a (fashionably coordinated) mask or shaking someone’s hand.

Pandemic Reading

This, this was the palate cleanser I needed after all my heavy books last week. Perfectly fluffy and lovely, two best friends pretend to be engaged to each other, but then feelings get involved. I bet you would never guess the ending.

I cannot believe I made it this long in life without reading Virginia Woolf. Sure, I read A Room of One’s Own, or an annotated version thereof, in university, but nothing else. Until now! This was a really incredible read, although in all honesty it took me a few pages to get used to the stream-of-consciousness style of writing. The details and the theme of interconnectedness really spoke to me. Also of note: Mrs. Dalloway is described as having heart issues, in need of daily rests, and having grown very thin and pale since her illness, her illness being the Spanish flu. The other thing of note is that Septimus is suffering from what was known as shell shock, which was a topic in the book about trauma I just read, The Body Keeps The Score. Very interesting, and there are some great Downton Abbey-like party descriptions, which I am HERE FOR.

Oh, this book. This book really resonated with me as a yoga practitioner and teacher, and a longtime cardio enthusiast. Particularly after my hip injury, I find that I am constantly filled with gratitude and joy that I can move without pain; running, walking, biking, I feel is a pure gift now. However, there were many parts that made me very, very sad: for example, talking about the feeling of community and collective joy that comes with group exercise in person, and the sound of synchronized breathing that comes with a flow yoga class when we are all together. Well. We are lucky to be so connected in a virtual way, and able to be together while apart, I must keep that in mind. I’m sure Mrs. Dalloway would have had a grave sense of isolation and loneliness while almost dying from the Spanish flu and would have given anything for the kind of connectivity we have now.

Happy October! It’s hard to believe that Thanksgiving is this weekend already. I hope you all have a beautiful week; I will be practicing gratitude and thankfulness. Particularly about no jury duty and a clean-shaven face. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Fall Fruit and Fashion Edition

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It has been one of those “Lemon, it’s Tuesday” kind of weeks, for no particular reason. Nothing has been happening out of the ordinary, which, these days, ordinary is kind of extraordinary, but there has been nothing I can put my finger on to indicate why this week has felt extra long and strange. All I know is that I’ve been mentally a day ahead of the actual day every day this week.

Hooray, it’s Friday! I have big wine-and-Greek-salad plans tonight, and my husband and I are watching the final episode of the first season of Ozark – late to the party, I know, but I’m terrible at committing to actually watching a show. He’s been asking me to watch it with him for over a year, and I guess I’ve capitulated. We have been watching one or two episodes on weekends ONLY because I find it pretty disturbing to my sleep cycle.

Also hooray, we have been having the most BEAUTIFUL September. It’s really a crap shoot around here; September can be brutally cold and snowy, but this year it has been absolutely warm and gorgeous, with only a couple of frosty mornings. The fall colours are in full swing, and as I said to a gentleman I passed on my walk the other day, any September without snow on the ground is a great September.

Anyway, it is almost the end of September, and I promised myself I would keep my monthly Favourite Things going all through this pandemic – although “pandemic” now feels like “forever” or “this is life now.” In other words, it’s time for…

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Fall Fruit and Fashion Edition

Before I get to my Favourite Things, I am going to introduce you to Barkley’s new Favourite Thing. First, some background. Out here on the prairies, what passes for fruit is the pathetic cousin of the glorious apple, known as the crabapple. There are crabapple trees everywhere and although some intrepid souls actually harvest those sour little things and add ten pounds of sugar to them to make them into a jar of semi-palatable jelly, mostly they just litter lawns as people desperately try to give them away before raking them up and putting them in their green compost bins.

Our next-door neighbour has a crabapple in his back yard, and squirrels are constantly picking them up, eating small amounts of them, and then dropping them in OUR back yard, underneath our stand of spruce trees. For Barkley, this is like a mix between Christmas morning and winning big in Vegas. For weeks now, he has been mysteriously missing from sight in the yard, only to emerge from the trees with an apple in his mouth.

A few weeks ago, I mentioned to my husband that Barkley was smellier than usual, but other than terrible gas that would have us all opening the windows, he was fine. That was when we discovered the Apple Bonanza, which happens every year but I seem to forget about it/ block it out.

He’s eating so many apples that he’s actually gaining weight, and although we do have to keep his weight down for arthritis reasons, I don’t have the heart OR the time and inclination to run outside, duck under the trees, and clean up any stray apples every time Barkley goes outside. Well, he’s twelve, and might as well get some enjoyment out of the fall, and in any case, apple season will be over soon, the snow will be here, and winter will have us all pining for these colourful, albeit smelly days.

These Apples Are Delicious; As A Matter Of Fact They Are, She Said

All of which is to say, it’s Apple Season in the Boyhouse too! It officially started Wednesday when there were a few expensive Macintosh and Honeycrisp apples at Superstore. I LIVE for Macintosh season, and although the selection was poor and the cost was $2.39 per pound, I bought a few. I was a LITTLE salty when the lady across the street told me later that day that the Co-Op around the corner had Macs for sale for $0.99 per pound; the sale had been going on for the entire week and was OVER by the time I got there. I could have been eating not only Macs for a week, but $0.99 per pound Macs for a week! Time AND money lost.

Well, we can’t live in the past, and in any case, I am eating them now. Some of you might view Apple Season as the time to make pies and crisps and applesauce, but as you know, for me, that is a grievous waste of an apple. I shall gorge until the season is over.

This apple was so good I almost cried.

Pears, Plums, and Nectarines

Some of you in warmer climates – I’m looking at you, Gigi and Suz (HI GIGI HI SUZ) – might not think of these as fall fruits, but here, if I obtain a fruit in September, it’s a fall fruit. I bought nectarines three weeks ago and they were so delicious, I almost didn’t buy them again, for fear they wouldn’t be as good. I’m glad I DID buy them because now they aren’t available. Plums are my husband’s favourites, so I’m adding them here even though they aren’t mine.

Pears. PEARS. I love pears and I only eat them at this time of year because I find them gravely disappointing any other time. The only problem, as I see it, is that we have to buy them so green, and then they all ripen at once. I mean, it’s not really a PROBLEM, per se, more of a pear-binge. With four fruit-hungry people in the house, they don’t last long.

Pears, I find, are not unlike avocados in that they take a while to ripen and then you have to strike while the iron is hot. Again, this isn’t really a problem.

The Middle-Aged Woman Look (Scarves, Sweaters, Flats, and Boots)

A few years ago, a woman I know said – and not in a friendly way, but in a disparaging, nasty kind of way – that the way you know a woman has hit middle age is that she starts wearing a lot of scarves and flats. The woman went on to say that SHE embraces her heels and low-cut tops and honestly, good for her. You do you, lady.

However, I love flats and I love scarves and there is a very limited time of year here that one can actually wear a scarf and a sweater and call it a day. I mean, you still can, but while outside the wind is often so powerful that scarves either unwrap themselves or threaten to strangle you, and a sweater is insufficient for the chill. Lately though, we have had a few days where it HAS been still and mild enough to go out with a sweater and scarf and pretend that we are living in a glorious climate and not one in which we are waiting for the other (flat) shoe to drop.

God, I love a good scarf. I think they are so pretty and snuggly. I haven’t reached the Nora Ephron stage in which I feel “bad about my neck” although sometimes, when I see photos, I do think my neck looks like a weirdly striated tree trunk.

I’ve embraced the long swirly drapey sweater look for a while now, and I find – and this is a topic for another day, a big topic – I love them even more because they smooth out the, how shall I say this, softening of my abdomen. But as I say, that is a big topic for another day, how perimenopause affects your body no matter what.

As for flats, I used to be a die-hard wedge heel girl, but now I just feel more comfortable, fast, and getting-my-steps-in with flats. I do still have a few low-heeled boots, but for the most part, my shoes are pretty flat. I have reached the stage in life where shoe comfort has taken precedence over shoe style. I guess that is because, god willing, I am now middle-aged.

Actually, I hope to live to 100, so I’ve got five years to go before I hope to be in TRUE middle age, but I don’t want to tempt fate.

Those are my favourite September things, what are yours? xo

Like A Half-Birthday But Less Festive; Twenty-Six Weeks In

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So, for those of you who are counting, 26 weeks is exactly half a year. Six months of this pandemic! Back in March, six months felt like The Worst Possible Scenario. Now it is Just Life and I don’t think at all at how long this will go on; no one knows and speculating isn’t helpful.

This is where having a blog pays off; I look back and see the evolution. I think we have all gone through the five stages of grief, on a number of different levels, and I am now firmly in the Acceptance Stage. Happy Half-Birthday to the pandemic, I guess. Over the last six months I’ve gone from drinking a lot of wine and eating mini-eggs to frantically cleaning and reorganizing my laundry area and every other part of the house to learning how to teach yoga online to colouring my own hair and giving myself a bikini wax (WE’RE GOING TO NEED MORE WAX).

When the pandemic first started, only the most paranoid of us were wearing masks; that quickly changed and now I am leaning hard into Mask Fashion, coordinating my masks with my outfits.

Back in March and April, grocery shopping was the most harrowing, depressing, and soul-sucking activity; I remember feeling absolutely drained after a Superstore trip, and scheduling a whole day so that I could wait outside, in the cold, to get into Costco, and then feeling so disheartened that I would have to repeat the whole thing over and over again. Now, grocery shopping is just grocery shopping, still some things missing on the shelves but nothing really to write home about, unlike in the earlier months when we were all panicked about toilet paper, flour, yeast, and – for a few strange weeks at our house – baking powder and sauerkraut.

Speaking of which, I have discovered a huge downside to the boys being back at school and that is I have to bring the groceries into the house all by myself. What is this bullshit. For six months I have strolled into the house holding only a jug of milk or the bag with the bread and eggs, and commanded everyone to bring in the heavy bins, and now I, I am the one bringing in those heavy bins, this is an outrage. Groceries aside, I have barely lifted anything for six months, including but not limited to the laundry basket, outdoor chairs, and clothing donation bags. If the school shut-down lasted longer, it’s likely all my upper body muscles would atrophy completely.

The boys just finished their first week of classes; I am thinking week by week and one day at a time when it comes to school. They all wear masks – they are mandatory everywhere here – and although my older son tells me that “social distancing doesn’t exist,” well, we are doing the best we can. I mean, there is only so much physical space in a building, and there are 2300 kids, so take a deep breath, mask up, and wash hands.

It’s my thought that the kids are way better than adults in adjusting to a different world. It is my younger son’s fifteenth birthday tomorrow and on Friday afternoon he celebrated with friends, his usual “hangout” group. They had massive amounts of food in our back yard, always keeping distanced from each other, and when they weren’t they put on masks, even though they were outside the whole time.

The boys finish school at 1:00 on Fridays, and so the party started at that time and went until 6:30 pm, not before five large pizzas were consumed in addition to all the baked goods. Strangely enough, my son had an online math test to do on Friday “any time between 1:00 and 11:00 pm” and so he settled into his test after his friends left. Does that seem strange to anyone else? Well, I’m not criticizing. Finally, finally, FINALLY after years and years of filling out forms until my hand seized up, the school has taken to online forms. I guess they don’t want germy plague-ridden papers coming into the office, and although I don’t really think anyone’s catching The Covid from paper, I am not questioning anything. How many reams of paper have I gone through in my life, filling out the exact same thing over and over? How many Septembers have I spent rubbing my ink-stained hands as I fill out my phone number over and over, signing my name until it doesn’t look like my signature anymore? The biggest bonus is my sons are filling them out themselves, although I was a little taken aback that my younger son put in my husband as “Parent One.” I am usually Parent One! I’m the main contact! When I said this to him, he said “Oh, I thought it went by age.” Well.

This week I have gone back to teaching in-person classes at the community centre; I am now teaching two online classes and two in-person classes per week. It feels a bit strange after a six-month hiatus to see people again, but I will say this: if I contract Covid, it won’t be from that. The community centre is very strict: hand sanitizer before entering, one (masked) person at a time allowed in the lobby where we take off our shoes, there are x’s on the floor to mark where mats can go, and the x’s are three metres apart, and we leave via the emergency exit door so as to not run into anyone coming into the centre. My students don’t wear masks when actually practicing yoga, but I wear one to teach, and it isn’t as hard as I thought it would be.

Six months seems long, but it’s really a just a blip. I’m trying not to think ahead to the next six months and the long winter on the horizon, instead buying more warm clothes and taking things a day at a time. At least the masks will keep our faces warm.

Pandemic Reading

This book was, frankly, bizarre. I thought it sounded like a funny concept: man has an affair, so his wife decides she is going to have her own affair to get even, and is thrown into the new world of dating. But…the underlying theme of the book was stay married no matter what because divorce is awful and hey, we all make mistakes. I thought of googling the author to see if she is a fundamentalist Christian, but I guess I don’t care enough about it.

I have NO idea why I put this on hold at the library. Did someone recommend it to me? Was I drinking and library app-ing? Who knows. This was fine, not enjoyable but not terrible. It was very repetitive and gave advice like instead of flipping out when someone doesn’t change the toilet paper, just discuss your needs instead. I mean, that’s probably sound advice but I didn’t really need a whole book about it.

Six months, you guys. We can do this. xo

Science Is Magic; Twenty-Five Weeks In

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I, Too, Get Cold When It Is 72 Degrees Outside

As my husband and I were out for our daily constitutional, an older lady in a fabulously bright pink jacket was walking down the sidewalk towards us. I stepped off the sidewalk to give her a two-metre bubble, and said “Oh! I LOVE your pink jacket!”

My husband said I sounded exactly like Buddy the Elf, which put me in mind of the old Twitter game, back when Twitter was fun and not a toxic cesspool of inhumanity, where you would describe your personality using three characters from popular culture. Mine are, without a doubt, Sally Allbright, Monica Geller, and, obviously, Buddy the Elf.

What Day Is It Even

To familiarize the students with new health and safety protocols, and to ease all the teens back into the classroom after a nearly six-month hiatus, last week the boys went back to school, one morning each. Grade Tens were in on Tuesday, Elevens on Wednesday, and then nothing after that until classes resume tomorrow. Add that to a long weekend in which my husband miraculously did not work and a visit to my parents for an early birthday celebration for my younger son, and I am more confused than ever about the days of the week. I feel really discombobulated, more so than normal. I mean, today is MONDAY. And it’s also a holiday. And it’s also freezing cold, complete with icy rain, in a “hello, it is now fall” kind of way. So far, the snow has held off but it’s COLD. I’m glad I “harvested,” as I am pretty sure my herb garden is not going to survive this.

It’s Sweater and Boot Season

There are a few warm and sunny days in the forecast, but mostly we are transitioning back to socks, boots, and sweaters. Despite my reticence to say goodbye to summer, it’s kind of fun to go through my sweaters again, after a whole two months without them. Shopping my closet, that’s my game.

Also matching my masks to my outfits.

Whoa-oh-oh It’s Magic

I have a beautiful Pandora necklace that is probably ten years old; I haven’t worn it for years as it had completely tarnished and blackened. It hung in my jewelry box, and, frankly, I forgot about it until a couple of weeks ago, when it caught my eye.

I looked up easy ways of cleaning silver and discovered the most amazing, incredibly simple way of doing it. First, line a bowl with aluminum foil and set the piece of silver in it, making sure it’s completely touching the foil. Bring water to a rolling boil on the stove, measure out the boiling water, and add one tablespoon of baking soda for each cup of water. Pour that mixture over the silver and wait for the magic to happen!

You can actually see the chemical reaction take place, you can smell the sulphur. I left it all to sit until the water cooled enough for me to put my hand in to take out the necklace, so probably 25 minutes. Rinse off the silver, and voila.

Magic! Or, more accurately, SCIENCE.

Pandemic Reading

This was incredibly eye-opening, terrifying, sad, and yet very hopeful. I actually didn’t know who Trevor Noah is, as I have never watched The Daily Show, but I’m glad it was recommended to me.

Oh, this was so good. I have always loved “slice of life” books and this one, set in Jerusalem, is an incredible look at female friendship with one of the most complicated political backdrops. Warning: this is not a CHEERFUL story, but it is incredible, so well-written. I resented doing literally anything else but reading this until I finished it. Fun fact: the author used to live in Calgary! Why? Who knows! But she did.

I know so many women who loved this immeasurably. I really loved the messaging, I admire her humanitarian work, and a lot of it resonated deeply with me. However, I did not love the writing style. I wasn’t at all surprised to see that Elizabeth Gilbert is her friend and mentor, as their styles are very similar.

I was one page into this when I realized I had read it before, back in 1998 when I was in grad school and someone lent it to me to take a break from economics texts. It was certainly worth a reread though! It’s good to have 22 years of a different perspective.

Photos taken before the weather change! Hope you have a great week, everyone. Stay safe. xo

Masks Are The New Lipstick

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Do you like my new mask?

My friend Tora (HI TORA) made it for me, and I’m so grateful. Even though I’m only getting groceries once a week, I was feeling weird about throwing away a mask every time. Does it seem strange to anyone else that only six or seven weeks ago we were all talking passionately about plastic straws and bags, and reducing everything, and now the grocery stores are encouraging use of those same plastic bags instead of reusable ones, and we are all throwing away gloves and dying to get our hands on plastic bottles of hand sanitizer? IT FEELS WEIRD TO ME. I am still using my reusable bags – I’m packing my own groceries, as per recommendations – but I am feeling weird about throwing away the gloves I wear to the store. Well, anyway, I like my new washable mask, and it has hearts on it! And it’s pretty! And every little bit counts.

God bless you all who have to wear masks all day, every day, due to your jobs, because they are – in my opinion – very unpleasant. I am a person who is Cold All The Time and I find them hot and awkward to wear; I find when I smile that my lower lashes get stuck on the mask, causing many mascara smudges, and if I find myself wearing sunglasses while waiting outside for thirty-five minutes just to get into Costco, those sunglasses are constantly fogging up. I guess you get used to it.

The upside? If you find yourself close to Ladies’ Holidays, and subsequently have the need to use your teenager’s acne medication on a spot on your jaw, and you find yourself despairing over using acne medication AND wrinkle cream, well. At least the mask covers things up nicely, is what I’m saying.

The lineup for Costco was “light” but, as I said, took 35 minutes and see all those carts? That’s the maze that one needs to stand in to get through it. I am not at all complaining; it wasn’t that cold and I had the foresight to bring a book with me, so I finished re-reading Bridget Jones’ Diary, which was much less charming than I remembered. It doesn’t really – in my humble opinion – stand up to the test of time, but then again, it was written almost 25 years ago.

The upside to the Costco lineup is that it is actually very pleasant to shop in the store. There are so few people allowed in that it is incredibly easy to social distance, and there are virtually no lineups at the checkout. The cashiers wipe down and sanitize everything between customers, which takes a few minutes, but I am happy that they do that. There are big bottles of sanitizer everywhere, so I did not even wear gloves on my most recent trip; I just sanitized a lot. My hands look much worse than usual, but so far so good.

As I was leaving, I showed the girl my receipt from behind her plexiglass stand. “Thank you, SIR, have a great day!” she said cheerfully. Huh. Sir. I hope that it’s just the strain of repetitive speech that is getting to her and not my Pandemic Appearance.

I don’t have the wherewithal to watch anything for a long period of time – this is not pandemic-related, I just rarely can do it – and so my husband and I watched the opening sequence of Jesus Christ Superstar Live. To be honest, I don’t REALLY love the whole musical; I find it drags a lot but I do love Herod’s Song and the opening and closing sequence. There’s a name for the opening sequence, what is it, I should know this. Oh! Overture. Anyway, I have always loved the overture; the original version especially I love. What’s not to love, all those sweaty hippies dancing frantically and putting together the set in the Israeli desert. IT IS INCREDIBLE. And the Live performance is just as incredible, in a very different way.

As we were watching, though, I found myself horrified by the crowd. Everyone so close together! Aiee! And then Jesus/ John Legend went to the front of the stage and grabbed the hands of the people in the front row. “He’s touching all those HANDS!” I said to my husband, horrified. Reader, he also kissed his own hands and blew kisses into the crowd. After touching SEVERAL DOZEN HANDS. It’s amazing that only a few months ago I would have never thought twice about it and now it seems like the Highway To The Danger Zone. Good LORD.

I find I have to talk to myself calmly when I go out to get groceries. It’s hard not to think all those hands that touched this same thing, you could really lose your mind thinking about it. Did I contaminate my purse by touching it? Did I touch the door to the grocery store refrigerator and then accidentally touch my pants? Should I strip down in the yard and burn all my clothes? Well. I speak calmly to myself and just congratulate myself for doing the best I can do. If you think too much about a thing, well, that way madness lies.

Anyway. I am NOT going out of my way to disinfect every single item I bring into the house, I am trying to have faith that They Are Okay and It Will Be Okay because, well. I am just trying to hold on. There was a video going around about how to disinfect your groceries and I could not even click on it, not for even a second. I also heard – through Swistle’s blog, since I refuse to look at the news or any “articles” that people “helpfully” post on Facebook – that the transmission from touching something is much, much, much lower than the transmission from having someone talk to you (or, god, cough near you) in your 2 metre bubble. Which brings me back to the mask! And how much I love it and how grateful I am to have it. As I’ve said before, masks are the new lipstick, which is a good thing, because they have discontinued my favourite shade. But that is a topic for another day. xo