Category Archives: Fleeting Time

Living La Vida Loca

Posted on by

Well, it finally happened: one of my sons came home AFTER I had gotten up for the day. It was only a matter of time before we became ships passing in the night, but the reason for the lateness was so ridiculous that it could have only happened to a teenage boy.

The boys went to a movie with friends on Thursday night; my younger son and his buddies did not have school on Friday because why would they have a full week of school after a three-week exam break and, before that, winter break? My older son didn’t have a shift the next day, so they headed to the movies after I went to bed, i.e., 8:30.

I got up to use the bathroom at 3:00 and noticed that while my younger son’s door was closed, indicating he was home and sleeping, my older son’s was not. Weird, I thought, Is he up playing VIDEO GAMES? He hasn’t done that in a very long time. I peeked outside and his car wasn’t there. I noticed a note in the kitchen, left by my younger son. The note indicated that my older son was waiting with his friend for a tow truck to come for his friend’s car. “EVERYONE IS SAFE” my son had written on the note, circling it several times, god bless.

A few things to note: I know of at least three of my sons’ friends who have crashed their cars on snowy and icy roads, and this particular friend was one of them. I also know of their friends with unreliable vehicles; my younger son regaled me with a story about one friend’s car that stalled out on an extremely busy six-lane thoroughfare, and the three passengers – my son included – had to push it off to the side and do some emergency work to get it moving again. Since my son had indicated that everyone was safe, I assumed hopefully that the situation was more like the latter than the former. In any case, I went back to bed, where I dozed fitfully.

By the time I had gotten up for the day, 75 minutes later, my son still hadn’t arrived, at which point I called him. They were still waiting for a tow, the vehicle was stuck in the snow, everything was fine. Okay.

I did some writing, drank some coffee, and started my yoga practice. Still no son. He finally came home at 5:45, exhausted, to me on the yoga mat and my husband losing his mind over the irresponsibility of youth, when it was revealed that the vehicle stuck in the snow was stuck in the snow in a school field (HOW DID YOU GET INTO A FIELD IS YOUR CAR OKAY WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOUR FRIENDS). I was pretty calm though; the driver is a strict non-drinker, my son’s car was not involved, no one was hurt, there was no damage at all, even to the vehicle in question. It turns out that after the movie and McDonalds, the group got the brilliant idea to drive through the junior high school field in his friend’s MOM’S SUV. To top things off, while on the field the driver thought it would be fun to drive on to the outdoor skating rink, which is surrounded by mounds of snow from where the rink had been shovelled clear. This is where the brilliant plan fell apart, the front wheels on the ice, the SUV bottomed out on the snow, the back tires wedged into the field snow.

Why this seemed like a good idea to anyone, no one can say, but hours of shovelling and wedging boards underneath the tires and even having a couple of passing-by twentysomethings helping, while they (probably drunkenly) laughed hysterically proved futile, and they phoned for a tow. The reason my son stayed was because it was his phone they used – the driver’s phone had died. By the time the tow truck arrived it was discovered that a) the emergency plan did not cover a vehicle not on a legal roadway, and b) they didn’t have a winch to pull it out, so nothing could be done.

In my recent Ask Me Anything, Elisabeth (HI ELISABETH) asked: If one of your sons was about to get married/ enter a long term relationship, what would be your number one piece of advice? Other than stay on legal roadways, I would say that a couple should be in sync for the Big Things. My husband and I differ in many ways and those ways do not bother me much: he eats meat and I do not, he prefers puzzles that are super-difficult and I like the kinds that have lots of individual pictures to work on, he likes TV shows about gold mining in Alaska and people training for the Special Forces whereas I would rather read a book. But on the Big Things – money and raising kids being the top two – we agree. Sometimes, though, our end result is the same but our journey is different, and that is exactly the case for this late night school field caper. My feeling was Alls-Well-That-Ends-Well-What-Have-We-Learned, whereas my husband was WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING YOU IDIOTS DO NOT EVER DO SOMETHING THIS STUPID AGAIN. We get to the same place, but we take a different road to get there.

Part of my calmness stems from the fact that I remember very well what it was like to be young. I very much recall, when I was about sixteen or so, visiting my cousins in the summer and, after we got bored of driving up and down the main drag of their small town for what seemed like hours, we drove through farmer’s fields. Why? Who knows. I also remember being in the car with two girlfriends, and one of them said “Oh, turn right here,” at which point the driver turned right there, as in, into a grassy park, as opposed to turning right at the next possible right-hand turn. Imagine, if you will, three screaming sixteen-year-old girls, in a car stuck in the grass. I don’t remember exactly how we got the car out but it felt harrowing at the time.

Lisa (HI LISA) asked: Is there a stage of parenting you especially loved or loathed? What advice would you give to someone in the earlier stages of parenting like me? I actually have not loathed any stages of parenting; I have enjoyed them all but I will say that my enjoyment has increased as they have gotten older. There are times when I think with affection back to their cute, chubby baby and toddler selves, but I do remember how much physical work it was just to leave the house. I loved their school years and their preteen years, despite the angst and the social and scholastic navigating that had to happen. I think I love the teen years best of all, even when they stay up all night doing stupid things, and even though in the first few months of driving I was on the edge of my seat whenever they were out.

Since I was asked, I will offer two pieces of parenting advice. The first is start now with open communication. I always wanted my kids to be able to talk to me without sneaking around, lying, or deception. It’s easier said than done when the kids admit to something you’re not happy with, like, for example, driving in a friend’s mom’s vehicle through a snowy field. Anyway. Around four years ago, my son was dating a girl who was, according to her parents, not allowed to date until she was 18. The solution to this problem is that she was telling her parents that she was out with girlfriends when she was out with my son. I mentioned this to a friend of mine who said “What? That’s unacceptable! You have to call those parents or tell your son she can’t see her until they are in the know!” Well. That is exactly what I DID NOT do. I wanted at least one adult to be informed, and that adult was going to be me. Forbidding or restricting teens will only blow up in your face, and it will ruin the parent-child relationship. I didn’t want my son to start lying to me about this relationship, so I just listened a lot until the relationship ran its course.

My second piece of advice is something that my friend Allison (HI ALLISON) said many years ago, in the context of chaperoning a field trip, but what I think is a valid process for any occasion: there will be a time after this. It’s a mantra that has gotten me through many times: from my own times of field trip chaperoning to parenting teens through a pandemic and online schooling. One day, I would think, I’ll remember this time as a time that has passed, and now we are in a different time. When things are tough, remember that; there will be a time after this.

Weekly Reading

Carnival of Snackery. I wanted to reread this, David Sedaris’ diaries from 2003-2020, after reading Happy Go Lucky, in which he revealed the disturbing nature of his father’s abuse. Having this information changed the reading experience for sure. There are many anecdotes about his father, and they really hit differently; instead of seeming like a mean-spirited buffoon, his father takes on a whole different persona. I love this book because I can see how some of his essays came about – Carol the fox makes an appearance, and so does his FitBit. It’s endlessly entertaining and often startling, against a changing social and political backdrop.

Bad Vibes Only. For the most part I really enjoyed this book of essays. A few of them didn’t resonate, but for the most part I found these thoughtful and thought-provoking, balanced, and smart. I particularly liked the essays about body image, and I found myself gasping out loud about an essay about a child left in the backseat of a car, and parental judgement.

Convenience Store Woman. This was such an interesting little book about a woman who has always struggled to fit into normal society – until she finds a job at a convenience store, and is able to live with purpose and within defined parameters. But her single status is distressing to those around her, so she takes up with a man who is a grifter and who encourages her to quit to find a better paying job, with which to support him. It’s an unsettling commentary on societal expectations for women, but also a cheer for those who are not neurotypical, and a celebration of differences.

In other, non-human-teen news, Rex went to the groomer’s this week! Here’s the Before and After:

Look at this saucy pose.

We’re just driving on legal roadways, right?

Have a beautiful week, friends! xo

Dreams Can Come True, Look At Me, Babe/ Kalette, I’m With You

Posted on by

I have been doing a massive house decluttering and purge, using a technique I learned from Apartment Therapy: choosing one small area and setting a timer for 15 minutes. It is extremely effective; I find that the less time I have to wonder do we need this item, the more efficient I am at letting go. Granted, I found three full drawers of user manuals for appliances that we no longer own, so letting go is not really so difficult.

Other than the defunct user manuals, there are many items that I feel could be of some use to someone else, and so I have been sorting things into various donation piles. The Kidney Foundation had, most fortuitously, called to see if I had any donations of clothing or household items, and I accepted their offer with more enthusiasm than I think the telephone caller had anticipated. I do think they are a worthy cause, but I think that the best way to donate items, both from an environmental and a community-minded standpoint, is through our neighbourhood Buy Nothing page. I envisioned giving as much as I could away to the community, and then bagging up the rest for the Kidney Foundation pickup.

At this point, I am ready to just set fire to everything.

Donating things through Buy Nothing, while very worthy, is just so much work. I have noticed that, while there are great people who are excited to take my old books and DVDs, and who schedule a time to pick up and actually pick up at that time, there are also those who make me wonder what I’m doing with my one wild and precious life. Almost always there will be someone who gives an enormous window for pickup – I’ll be there between noon and 9 pm on Wednesday – and then doesn’t pick it up for days, leaving me to wonder if I should ask if someone else wants it, or should I leave it on the step, and is it okay for things to sit out in below-freezing temperatures for days at a time? About a eighteen months ago I had gifted a number of cleaning products to a woman in the group who then didn’t pick them up for two weeks; I had messaged her a number of times, only to get the answer that she’d “be there tomorrow.” At the end of two weeks, my sister-in-law had stopped by to drop off Girl Guide cookies – I have to support my nieces! A case of cookies is not too much! – and I ended up giving her the bag of Lysol wipes and such. Two days after that the original woman messaged me to ask if she could come and get them that evening, and I was so irritated I ghosted her. That was probably rude on my part, but what can I say, it was in the thick of the pandemic, and my patience for such things was wearing thin.

In any case, things are slowly making their way out of my house, with the exception of some of my old textbooks, which according to the city’s website are only fit for the recycle bin. No one wants outdated textbooks for any reason, in any capacity, so there go my myriad economics and finance textbooks from the nineties. But why? Surely someone out there is looking for Varian’s Microeconomic Analysis, Third Edition, 1992. Or a twenty-five-year-old copy of Adjusting To Volatile Energy Prices. I am having a small crisis about the environmental impact of a small amount of broken toys that are heading for the landfill, but let’s move on.

As I clear out old detritus, this week I brought in many new items, in the manner of food. I am constantly amazed at the amount of groceries a mere four people go through in one week. A few weeks ago I was lamenting the apparent end of kalette season, but, thrillingly, it was NOT the end. It was a mere blip. Two girlfriends (HI JANET HI TRACY) had texted me to say that they had seen kalettes in the wild/ Costco’s refrigerated produce section, and so off to Costco I went. Dreams can come true!

When I saw the display I immediately got the song Dreams stuck in my head, and it stayed there for days. The problem with this song is that I really only know the chorus, along with the words I know what I want, and baby, it’s you, and so that was going through my head, over and over, on a loop. On my way home, I heard Anne Murray’s Snowbird on 70s on 7, and it reminded me of the show Sensitive Skin. Did you ever watch it? In the premiere, the husband was writing a piece on the cultural impact of Snowbird and for research purposes, listened to it on repeat for days on end, as he began to lose his mind. I could really see this happening to me, but with Dreams. Not that I’m listening to it on repeat, but my brain thinks I am.

I remember Sensitive Skin as being a really good show, but when I watched it I was 39, and my kids were 9 and 10. I think seeing it now, it would hit very differently: a middle-aged woman, empty nest, moving from her home in the suburbs to a downtown condo, aging mother, midlife crisis. At 39, I probably thought “Interesting!” and then moved on with my life. Or, “I like what she did with her hair.” These days, I would be more likely to dissolve in a puddle of mascara and tears and hot flashes.

Speaking of landsliding, my son finished his last exam on Friday, and so has this entire week off before starting his last semester of high school! In mere months, we will be out of the public school system! Just to add to the wow, time, feeling that I have, my thirty year high school reunion is coming up in June. I mentioned it to my dinner guests last weekend, who then asked if I was going to go it, and it turns out that I am actually kind of organizing it? I am not exactly sure how this happened, and I didn’t really need an extra project, but here we are.

Look at that sweet young thing! She had no idea that thirty years on, she would be wondering about reunion locations.

Weekly Reading

After last week’s fairly heavy and dark reads, this week was Very Mysterious.

The Accomplice. This book was mentioned by three friends – Suzanne, Engie, and Allison (HI SUZANNE HI ENGIE HI ALLISON) – and their synopses made me think it looked interesting. It was very fun to read! I so rarely pick up mysteries, but when I do, I enjoy them. This book had everything: ride-or-die friendship, murder, extramarital affairs, romance, greedy stepfathers, and hilariously nosy neighbours! A fun read that kept me up past my bedtime (by ten minutes but STILL).

Death on the Nile. Would you believe I had never read an Agatha Christie in my life? It’s true! I saw this at the library and thought, maybe I should get on that train. After all, Agatha Christie is kind of a big deal. I have a very soft spot for Egypt, having travelled there twenty-three years ago, AND I cruised down the Nile, albeit in a less-fancy way than the characters in this book.

No one got murdered on that cruise, that I know of.

At some point in my life I realized that I no longer associated myself with the beautiful young protagonist, and instead, found myself in sympathy with the motherly characters. See also: no longer a Handmaid, more like a Wife. Or Martha. Anyway, in this book there is one character who is described as an older, grey-haired woman. She’s 50. I mean, in the absence of hair colour that character is the closest to me, but it cracks me up that what we see as middle-aged was seen as quite advanced, back in the 1930s. Speaking of 1930s, there is some objectional language describing the Egyptian people, which is not unusual for a book from a British author in 1937, but should be noted. All in all, I really enjoyed this book – it was very entertaining.

The Lifeguards. This was a decent thriller/ mystery about three friends that have three sons who are also friends, and who come across a dead body. There are secrets, and a twist I did not at all see coming, but the ending was not very satisfying to me. Questions, I have them! But I did like it – not love it – it was just fine! Three mysteries in one week, who am I?

So it’s been a mystery-filled, decluttering-filled, kalette-filled week in the Boyhouse. What will this week bring? I hope it brings you lots of happiness. xo

Boyhouse Year In Review 2022

Posted on by

Happy Almost New Year! I hope you have all been having a restful and restorative week! I have been enjoying myself immensely; lots of sleep, puzzles, books, food, and wine. We spent a few days at my parents, which is always fun, and involves games and food and more wine.

As is usual at this time of year, I’ve been reflecting a lot on the year that’s passed and the year that is to come. One of the biggest benefits to having a blog is the ability to look back, and wow, have we come a long way since this time last year. Late December/ early January were an absolute low point; things were dismal. Happily, on our Roller Coaster of Life, things have been more up than down; so let’s take a look at what happened in the Boyhouse in 2022.

January

The New Year started off pretty bleak and grim, with winter break extended and all diploma exams cancelled, and to distract myself from complete despair I talked about my concepts and mantras I try to live by every day, the kids did go back to school and I decided to stop reading the news, I talked about actual quantifiable goals that I work towards every day, I talked about how much I hate filtered photos, how I actually thought about Botox, and how I was unfriended by a high school acquaintance not once but twice, and I had a roller-coaster of a week that included new neighbours, a cancelled trip, a mouse in the house, and a possible hoarding issue with macadamia nut milk. This month’s Favourite Things were of the Hygge variety, appropriately enough.

February

I talked about all the fun physical changes that come in one’s forties, including but not limited to moustaches and chin hair, I had massive gratitude for all the Galentines in my life, I showed you a Week of Winter Outfits (spoiler: lots of sweaters and legwarmers), and I talked about automatic car starters and marital mismatches. I also told you all about the daily choices I make to show myself some love.

March

All Covid restrictions were dropped, and I went to Costco and lost my mind, it was exactly two years since the pandemic started, and we celebrated my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary, two years and one week in, we got Covid, and we eventually recovered enough to celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary with a Banff getaway, and my son turned 18. While we were isolated, I talked about the things that made my recovery happier.

April

I talked about the juxtaposition of my desire to wave at every neighbour and my reluctance to talk to them and hear insensitive comments about Barkley (god, that was hard for me to read), there were many signs of spring in my life, Salvadore came into my life and brought so much gnome-related happiness, we had a massive snowstorm and I scheduled appointments like a boss. It was my birthday and I talked about 47 things I love.

May

I was absolutely exhausted from the neighbour’s construction, our internet went out for seven hours and somehow we all survived, we had a lot of snow and I went to the garden centre, I shared my Week of Spring Outfits, and my son had his high school graduation ceremony, dance, and banquet, none of which I thought would happen, and I am eternally grateful. At that point I stopped my Weekly Covid Count. I also shared with you my makeup routine, and included my 4:00 am bare face.

June

I lived on the edge and planted my tomatoes slightly early while the construction guys listened to Dick in a Box, I had a weird medical mystery, my midlife crisis manifested in me giving Salvadore an actual bubble bath, and I confessed to having Low Level Shame about ghosting my long-time hair stylist. I also joined my husband in Banff for a Fancy Conference. Well, I was there for the Fancy part, he was there for the Conference part.

July

On June 30, we said goodbye to Barkley, and we were all brokenhearted. We started off the summer with some visiting relatives from California – including my teenage pen pal – and our usual trip to the lake for Canada Day, I found solace in hiking, my garden, and cooking, and I also snapped at door-to-door solicitors, I talked about Cart Karma, I started a Big Project and Curated my Closet, and in the face of a Calgary Heat Wave, I shared my Week of Summer Outfits. It was also the Ten Year Anniversary of Nicole’s Favourite Things!

August

We went on vacation, I read a lot, I vowed to have Just One Backup of everything in the house and kind of failed, I got all nostalgic, my husband and I went to Mexico where I spoke broken Spanish and sang karaoke, and I read a lot more. Notably and for the first time ever, I travelled with ONLY carryon, and I can never go back, proving that YOU SHOULD NEVER JUDGE.

September

Life has its ups and downs, and to that end there were mice in the house and the boys drank our expensive Patron mixed with Dr Pepper, on the same day I cleaned my kitchen with a toothbrush, the Queen died, my son turned 17 and when I went grocery shopping I realized I had some kind of Psychological Long Covid, and I thought about house staging and photo filtering, and showed photos of my unstaged, unfiltered home. My son went backcountry camping and to distract myself from thoughts of giardiasis I talked about a variety of Favourite September-Related Things.

October

My son did not get giardiasis, but we had a number of run-ins with local wildlife, one of my students introduced me to the concept that Gratitude Is The First Step To Joy, and I listed off some of the things I am grateful for, Rex came into our lives and has brought us so much happiness, I shared my Week of Fall Outfits, I talked about body changes and the concept of “flattering” when it comes to clothes, and I prepared for Halloween like a crazy person. I also celebrated all things fall-related!

November

I rapidly shifted into Winter and Tiny Secret Festive Season, we celebrated our one-month Rex-aversary, I finished my Christmas shopping, I joined all the cool kids in doing a Day in the Life post, I revealed my longtime desire to join a flash mob, and my son decided to join the throngs of men who observe Movember. I talked about Christmassy favourites and just regular favourites.

December

We all started Advent calendars, and mine was a puzzle one, I went to an actual holiday party with actual people and actual fancy clothes, I answered your questions about the holidays, I took the car in for servicing and it was a huge ordeal, I revealed my favourite childhood gifts, and I celebrated my girlfriends. On Festivus I talked about my favourite holiday things and also how I jerry-rigged the furnace.

It has been quite a year! 2023 will be a year of change for me; I’m not great with change, and I love my life as it is, but change is part of life, so here we go! Time to jump in. Happy New Year to all of you. Thanks for being here on this journey with me. xo

Sisters From Other Misters

Posted on by

It’s Fun Mail Season! It’s so nice to open the mailbox to see something other than flyers – which I still get because the fellow who delivers them is developmentally disabled and I will NOT put him out of a job, I just recycle them upon receipt – and the occasional request for funding. Fun Mail Season reminds me of when I was a Sweet Young Thing and used to get letters from all my pen pals, and sometimes even LOVE LETTERS from far-away would-be suitors, which makes me sound like I’m in a Jane Austen novel, but the letters often contained descriptions about parties attended and how their friends drank themselves senseless, which I am pretty sure Marianne Dashwood never had to hear about.

I have long thought of the blogging community and social media as being today’s pen pal equivalent. Some say that such friendships are Not Real, but I beg to differ. Social media has allowed me to stay in the lives of people who I would have lost touch with over time, in a different era, and that is a real gift. It is said that friends come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime, and I used to think in this Friendship Venn Diagram, none of the circles would be overlapping. Now, though, I think they can and often do. Perhaps I am not in a Going For Coffee relationship with my best friend from first grade, but I am on Facebook with her, and that’s nice too. In this way I am in touch with my far-away cousins, people I used to work with, and almost my entire high school graduating class; it might be “connection-lite,” but it’s still connection, and it’s still valid.

One of the books I read this week spoke very disparagingly of such connections, but I think there is a real place for them in our lives. After all, not everyone can bring you a casserole in times of hardship, but words can lift you up just the same. Sometimes I think of elephants and big horned sheep, and how when one of their herd is injured or in need, the rest of them form a circle to keep them safe. That is what social media and blogging friendships feel like to me; it seems to me that when friends are experiencing real losses and hardships, particularly in the last few years, our online community gathers and forms that strong circle until the person on the inside can get back on her feet.

I have two brothers and growing up, I never wanted for a sister; in fact, I relished the role of Only Girl, and all the special treatment that came with it. As I got older and pursued education and a career in a male-dominated area, and then had sons, I started to long for a sister. I have many wonderful girlfriends and have been blessed to be a part of many beautiful circles, and I have cultivated a few friendships that I consider Chosen Sisters. These Sisters fill up my cup and visits with them are always beneficial to me; we can be completely real and open with each other, and we never judge. Two of them live far away but we touch base nearly every day (HI HANNAH, HI ALLISON), and one of them is my motivator and cheerleader on every level who I see as often as our schedules permit (HI JANET). One Sister is someone I see a few times a year with her family, and we all used to travel together pre-Covid (HI JEN). Her family feels like my family, and as our kids start to prepare to leave us with an empty nest, I hope that we can continue to travel. Another Sister is also my neighbour, and she has been a surrogate-aunt-next-door to my kids (HI TARYN).

I’ve been thinking a lot about friendships and the role that certain women play in my life lately. In my recent Ask Me Anything, Suz (HI SUZ) asked Who is your oldest friend (how many years?) and do you have one best friend/ soul sister? I just saw my oldest close friend this weekend (HI TARA)! On the very first day of grade nine, back in 1989, I noticed a new girl in homeroom, with the thickest, curliest, most beautiful red hair you have ever seen. I bounced over to her and said “Hi! I’m Nicole! I love your hair!” and we have been close friends ever since. These days we only see each other twice annually, on our birthdays, but we are able to pick up exactly where we left off. Tara gave me a baby shower when my oldest was born, and when she introduced herself to the guests, she said Nicole and I have been through our life stages together, and those words really stayed with me. It’s really special to think of friends going through the same stages at the same time over the years. We are now in the thick of Young Adult Parenting, and Almost Empty Nest Life, and perhaps at some point in the future we will be lucky enough to be Living La Vida Mother-In-Law and perhaps even Grandma World.

This brings me to my second question of the day, from Colleen (HI COLLEEN), which is a two-parter. How do you feel about your boys dating? What kind of mother-in-law and/ or grandma do you want to be? I feel just fine about my boys dating. I think they are smart and respectful and that they will make good boyfriends and, possibly, husbands. We have had only a few girlfriends and dates around here, and I think they were really great in terms of growth and learning. Many years ago a friend of mine had said conversationally in terms of her son dating that no one is ever really good enough for your kid, and I vehemently disagree with that. I think that, right there, is the reason mothers-in-law have the kind of reputation they have. I would like to be a very Here For You mother-in-law, and one who is open-minded to different ways of living and doing things. If I am lucky enough to be a grandma, I hope to be a hands-on one who is helpful. My mother was so helpful to me when the kids were small; I want to be just as helpful to my sons and their future spouses. I hope to be a good listener, and someone who meets spouses and grandchildren exactly where they are, without judgement or thoughts of how to change them.

I recently read something that said unsolicited advice is the same as judgement and that is something that I have been rolling around in my mind this week. It’s something to keep in mind for everything, I think, from navigating friendships to changing family dynamics. The key to all relationships, for me, is to stay open and to remember that there is room for everyone. From besties to random Instagram follows, the world is richer when we open up to allow people in.

Weekly Reading

Mean Baby. I had heard this was a good memoir, and then when I picked it up, I realized I had no idea who this woman is. I haven’t seen anything she’s done, but no matter. This is an extremely compelling and terribly sad book about her lifelong demons, her toxic relationships – particularly with her mother, multiple sexual assaults, alcoholism, and, finally, a diagnosis of MS. So, trigger warning? I tore through it but it is dreadfully sad. It is advertised as being “bitingly funny,” which makes me wonder about the reviewer. I found nothing in this book to be funny.

The Hotel Nantucket. Mid-December might not be the most typical time for a beach read but hey, library holds come in when library holds come in/ the heart wants what it wants. This was a very fun read about the employees and guests at a hotel in Nantucket…a haunted hotel! A friendly ghost floats around, watching the affairs and scandals that abound. It was entertaining and satisfying, with engaging characters and back stories. I’m not typically one for ghost stories, but I found this just so charming and fun. I am going to seek out more from this author, for more mood-lifting reads.

This Wild And Precious Life. I picked up this book because I heard a review about it that was positive, and also the title is taken from one of my very favourite poet’s most famous poem. And I will say that this book does contain many very good points. But. It is not often I regret the time I spend reading a book but wow, I regret reading this. The very good points – the climate crisis, building connections with people, the beauty of hiking in nature – were, for me, completely offset by the extremely off-putting and incredibly judgmental writing style of this very privileged author. As an example, the author relates MANY anecdotes in the book in which she confronts, shames, and berates strangers for not having a reusable cup in a coffee shop or consuming anything that utilizes single-use plastics. Then she talks about her post-hike ritual of buying a bag of potato chips. Presumably, the potato chips are in a single-use bag. She flies around the world to hike but rants about horrors of car ownership, then in the next chapter mentions a road trip. In a car. While I do agree with consuming less and that we should all be doing our part to combat the climate crisis, I found myself bristling constantly while reading this, which is the opposite of what this book should be doing. If the thesis is to motivate people to climate activism, then the message should not be “no matter what you do, it will never be enough, and you are a scourge to our collective environmental well-being.” I kept wanting to stop reading but I also wanted to be open-minded; in the end I do not feel that I was enlightened in the least, but instead felt that I wasted several hours that I will never get back.

It is shaping up to be a very cold week here, this week before Christmas. As I write this, it’s minus 40 with windchill, and I am wondering how long Rex is going to want to walk for. Well, I have my heated mittens and my snowpants for just such occasions. I hope wherever you are, you are staying warm, and able to seek out moments of calm in what is typically a very busy week. xo

Dancing In September

Posted on by

Remember the sign that advertised taking a “reliable” car on vacation?

The sign is, if not punctuation-wise, at least thematically correct. The seasons (“season’s”) ARE changing; the afternoon temperatures are lovely and pleasant, but there is a definite crisp in the air, crunchy leaves are starting to litter the neighbourhood, I have swapped my summery tea towels for those with a fall leaf, owl, or apple motif, and we are eating as many plums, peaches, and nectarines as is physically possible. I’ve been busy in the garden, and it’s almost time to cut and dry all the herbs.

Look at my haul! It was exciting but I am never planting carrots again, mark my words. They are so much work for so little gain; I think my biggest carrot is maybe three inches long. Tasty, yes, but not worth the effort. Next year: more kale, more lettuce, same amount of zucchini and tomatoes. I did get a total of two little cucumbers, which was very exciting, but again, perhaps more work than results.

Anyway, the air is crisp and after months of bare feet and sandals I am wearing socks, and reminding myself to put on a jacket when I leave the house. It’s also Cute Scarf Season!

September always feels like a Fresh Start time of year, just as much as January does. I wonder if it will always be that way for me. In any case, I was infused – INFUSED – with energy last week, and decided to deep clean the kitchen. To be clear, my kitchen is always generally clean, but there were little things that it felt like only I could see: slightly grubby cupboard doors, a few fingerprints on the fridge, some build-up of grime here and there. I spent two hours scrubbing, even going through not one, but two old toothbrushes, to really get into the corners and crevices. It was so satisfying and I was thrilled with the results, even if no one else could really tell. Here’s the before and after:

So it really is apparent to no one but me, but believe me, it was SO satisfying to scrub the tiny edges on the cupboard doors and the sink corners and around the windowsill, and I have been just standing in the kitchen admiring my work.

This would be a much more dramatic photo if I had a “before.”

One thing that is dramatically different is our Vitamix. If you have a Vitamix, or any other blender with a plastic container, then you have probably experienced The Cloud, caused by mineral buildup:

Prior to the summer I was scrubbing the Vitamix with baking soda paste every week, to deodorize it after making salad dressing that contained garlic. No one wants a garlic aftertaste in their smoothies, after all, but as a side benefit The Cloud was minimal. This summer all the dressings I have made were just “mix in a mason jar” rather than “blend,” and so the Vitamix was just washed in a regular, non-scrubbing way, and The Cloud was getting out of control, as you can see. Not today, Satan. Not today. I made a baking soda paste and scrubbed in all the little crevices, then I soaked it for hours in vinegar and water, and voila:

Now THAT was a satisfying job.

It was during my deep clean that I learned of the Queen’s death. I was, and am, quite sad about it; I have been very interested in the Royal Family since the announcement of Lady Di’s engagement, back in 1980. The Queen and I shared a birthday, which always made me feel bonded to her. The Queen and I, celebrating our birthdays together, yet apart. I feel sure she loved cake as much as I do.

What an incredible life of service she led; she dedicated her whole life to her country and worked up until the day she died. Who among us could say such a thing? I hope she’s frolicking with horses and snuggling corgis, in the heaven version of Scotland.

Weekly Reading

A Town Called Solace. This was an enjoyable read about a town in Northern Ontario in the 70s, written from three points of view. A girl goes missing, a stranger moves into town, and a woman at the end of her life ponders a life-altering incident thirty years previous. Well done and satisfying; it didn’t blow me away but it was a diverting, solid story. 

Bomb Shelter. So a few weeks ago, I read I Miss You When I Blink, and while I enjoyed it, it didn’t really resonate with me in a meaningful way. Lisa (HI LISA) mentioned that the author had a brand-new book of essays out, which deals with processing emotions about having teenagers on the cusp of moving out, and her son being diagnosed with epilepsy. WELL. This hit home, let me say that. It hit home. Every essay had me deep breathing and thinking YES, THIS. It is such a complex thing; we spend so much time preparing our children to eventually not need us, because that is the goal in parenting, and then they don’t need us, and oof. But sometimes they do still need us? Life is an exquisite tapestry of emotions and feelings. Anyway, it is an excellent book and it’s 100% geared towards the life stage I am currently in, AND there are a couple of essays about having teenagers at home during the Covid pandemic. If that wasn’t enough, there is an essay about birthdays, and never before have I read my own feelings about birthdays, so exactly, in someone else’s words.

All The Queen’s Men. I picked this up on a whim – I liked the cover! – a few weeks ago, and it has sat on my side table, apparently waiting for just the right moment for me to pick it up. I suppose the Queen’s passing was just that moment. In any case, it felt like the perfect time to read a murder mystery/ detective story starring our very own, dearly departed, QEII, taking place in – where else? – Buckingham Palace! This was a very fun little book.

So it has been an energetic kind of week; everyone has been out of the house except me. This coming week I start teaching again, my younger son starts wrestling, I have a parent meeting for an upcoming Phys Ed camping trip, AND we have a seventeenth birthday in the house! CAKE!!!! I’ll leave you with a photo of me seventeen years ago this week, and with the wish that you all have a wonderful week. And maybe some cake? xo

Five For Friday: Nostalgia

Posted on by

  • WILMA! I’M HOME. I floored to see this display at Costco; I didn’t know that Fruity Pebbles still existed. I have never eaten them in my life, so I have no opinion on the taste or quality of the cereal, but it seems like such an incredibly dated item. I mean, The Flintstones? Is this still part of the cultural zeitgeist? I used to love that show when I was a kid, but there weren’t many other options at the time, and I feel that if I watched an episode now I would be absolutely horrified. However, that doesn’t mean that seeing Fruity Pebbles didn’t give me a nice feeling of nostalgia; I remember watching commercials for such cereals on Saturday mornings while I ate my unsweetened Shreddies or Cheerios, or, if my mom was feeling especially indulgent, my Honey Nut Cheerios. The commercials would be for things like Count Chocula or Boo Berry cereal, items that my mother would have died before purchasing. Last Christmas I saw Elf cereal at the grocery store, and although I have followed in my mother’s footsteps when it comes to virtuously healthy cereal purchases, I bought a box, thinking it would be a fun snack. Reader, it was not. Even my teen boys couldn’t eat it, and I feel like that speaks volumes.
  • Twinkie Twinkie, Not A Star. Speaking of my youth, I loved Archie comics, and I would read them cover to cover, including all the advertisements for things like Sea Monkeys and Twinkies. Sea Monkeys, I have since learned, are dehydrated brine shrimp. Twinkies, though. They looked so delicious, along with Hostess Cupcakes and Ding Dongs; I longed for such treats but at the time they were only available in the US. Any other Canadian women of a certain age remember how you had to “cross the line” to get such things? At the time I’m remembering, the Canadian dollar was pretty much on par with the US, and things like clothing and shoes were so much cheaper “down south,” so we would often drive down to Montana or Washington to do some shopping for back-to-school clothes. It was on one of those trips – where we ate unsweetened but still exciting cereal from those tiny boxes that came in a multipack, in our motel room – that my mom bought Twinkies AND Hostess Cupcakes. No Ding Dongs, but no matter. I was so excited to finally try these long-anticipated snacks, and let me tell you, never was a child so disappointed. I may have accepted that no matter how much cherry Kool-Aid I consumed, the Kool-Aid Man was never going to crash through my kitchen wall; I may have come to terms with the fact that a giant sentient bubble would never appear and hang out with me in my Mr. Bubbles-filled bathtub, but I truly felt like a Twinkie or Ding Dong or Hostess Cupcake would deliciously transport me into the world in which I was shiny-haired Veronica Lodge, snacking while Archie fawned over me and my incredible wealth. I can still remember eating the weird spongy cakes with the flavourless creme fillings, and feeling like my world lost a little bit of colour. Now they are widely available in any Canadian grocery store, and I give them the side-eye every time I see them.
  • Pop Culture. My husband remembers, on a similar childhood trip Across The Line, being able to buy A&W Root Beer IN A CAN and that was as good as it got for him. That was also only available in the States, but since I have a strong aversion to root beer, it would have been wasted on me. My parents used to buy pop from The Pop Shoppe, and the glass bottles came in plastic cases that, along with the bottles, would be returned to the store. I remember one time that they definitely would have foregone the five cent bottle deposit. Generally they purchased cola and lemon-lime, but every once in a while there would be an orange or grape pop bottle in the case, and that would be a huge treat for me. I was told I could go downstairs and bring up “my” pop, but I was so excited I dropped the bottle on my foot; it shattered and I had to go into urgent care. The fourth toenail on that foot is still a little deformed to this day. Despite the fact that those drinks would be a treat for me, my number one favourite beverage at that time was the uncarbonated Orange Drink that came from McDonalds, and that was featured in every single Sports Day during elementary school. Along with the admittedly-probably-watered-down Orange Drink, it would have been considered extremely lucky to receive a little Dixie Cup of vanilla ice cream, the kind that came with a wooden spoon. I am pretty sure the Orange Drink is no longer in existence, and I would probably spin off the planet on a sugar high if I drank it now, but I wonder if those little ice cream cups are still part of this world?
  • When You Wish Upon A Wish Book. One thing that is not part of this world that I genuinely miss every fall is the Sears Wish Book. I have loved the Wish Book for my whole life and was bereft when Sears went out of business. I loved the “gifts for under $10” section, and I always wanted a Snoopy Sno Cone Machine. I’m sure it would have never worked and would have been at least as disappointing as the Twinkie/ Hostess Cupcake experience, but still. Something that was NOT disappointing was the Christmas morning that I opened up my very own Cabbage Patch Kid, named Kora Candi. I did not realize it at the time, but it was a HUGE deal for my mom to get one for me. She had to have her name on a list at Zellers (remember Zellers? Remember grilled cheese sandwiches with fries and gravy at the Zellers “restaurant?”), and when the time came, she was taken into a back room where the staff triple-bagged the box, so that no one would know what she had and would try to rob her in the parking lot. The things moms do to make Christmas magical! The things that happened in the 80s! Let’s not mention that Xavier Roberts completely stole the idea from a little old lady at a craft fair and became very wealthy in the process; I loved Kora Candi and I still do.
  • Your Mom Has Got It Going On. My younger son told me that, in his friend group, the response to “Anyone want to hang out?” is “Your mom does.” I didn’t know guys still insulted each other via “your mom” jokes anymore and, strangely, since I am apparently one of the butts of the joke, it made me happy. Ah, the circle of life. Frequently the question will be reframed as “Anyone want to hang out? Not with my mom.”

We have been having the most gorgeous summer with the longest stretch of absolutely perfect weather; I do not want summer to end. I guess that is why mid-August tends to be a nostalgic time of year for me; this year I’m thinking not just about when my kids were small and we’d be prepping for school, but when I was a kid myself. How about you, are you also feeling nostalgic these days? Is there anything from your past that makes you smile? Tell me everything. xo

Baby Got Back

Posted on by

Hello! I have missed you! I have just returned from a two-week vacation, visiting friends and family in the Okanagan. It has been an entire year since I have seen my mother-and-sister-in-law; partly this was pandemic-related, partly Barkley-related, but mostly it was because we didn’t have a place to stay in. I haven’t said much about this, but for the past year our Vacation Home has been turning into our Future Retirement Home; this has been a big project, including the addition of a second floor, that my husband coordinated from afar, while working full-time at his stressful regular job, and all his hard work really paid off. It’s beautiful.

We have been on many, many family vacations of all different kinds, but our Okanagan vacations are always pretty chill; friends are always surprised to hear that we don’t do any big activities or excursions when we spend time here. You’ve never been to the kangaroo sanctuary? What about the zipline tours? No, never.

Our days are all pretty much the same: we visit with family, I cook simple dinners or we very occasionally go out for dinner, we have friends come by to drink wine on the deck or we meet up with friends, I read a lot, I get my steps in and we all get caught up on sleep, and that is pretty much it. This visit, my husband and boys spent time doing odd jobs around the house – putting up towel rods, setting up weight equipment, cleaning out the old shed, taking things to the dump – and I grocery shopped a ridiculous number of times, which is what happens when I don’t do a full weekly meal plan. In the afternoons we would head over to see my sister-in-law, who has a suite in a house on the lake, and we swam.

This was such a great option to have, since there was an Actual Heat Wave happening, as opposed to a Calgary Heat Wave. It was hot enough that I headed out for my daily run or walk fairly early each day; once at the beginning of the trip I felt lazy, started a little later, and finished my run at 9:15 am. I thought I might die, or at least dehydrate.

I don’t think I have really mentioned this, but I have had a loose goal this year of walking or running at least five kilometres a day, and most days I easily exceed that; there have been a couple of days that hasn’t been physically or emotionally possible, like when Barkley died or when I had Covid, and there have been a handful of days when the weather was so bad it was all I could do to make it to four kilometres, but for every one of those days there are at least ten that I would be quite a bit over that goal, so it all evens out in my favour.

Despite this, I haven’t really been running long distances; I just haven’t felt like it, and I am at the point in my life where I am not going to do things that I don’t feel like doing. At home, I have a Run Day twice a week, and I will take a 20 minute Peloton spin class before running six kilometres, and that’s as much running as I feel like doing. But when I was on vacation, I found I had a different mindset, and also I did not have my Peloton and was getting more sleep, so I seemed to have energy to burn. The first day we were settled in, I started running and I didn’t feel like stopping. For one thing, Calgary is at a much higher elevation, and for another, my home run route is uphill for the first two kilometres; in the Okanagan, our house is on a hill so the first two kilometres are downhill, and then it’s completely flat. I ended up running eight to ten kilometres every other day, although I will say that the last couple of K, going up the hill without any shade, in temperatures 20 degrees warmer than at home, were a bit of a grind. I felt pretty accomplished, though, at the end of it.

One morning I was walking, and lost in the beauty of the walk and in my Jiffy Pop Culture podcast, and when I looked up I saw something coming towards me. It was this young fellow:

I have seen many deer in my life but I have never been that close to one. He kept coming towards me, even though I stopped walking. He stopped maybe twenty-five feet away and we looked at each other; I heard a bike coming up behind me and I waved to get his attention. The cyclist looked exactly like a slim Santa Claus, and we murmured in an awestruck way about the beauty of nature, etc., when he offered to take my photo with the deer.

A couple of bikes were coming from the other direction and at that point I got very nervous; this was a young buck, and we were kind of surrounding him. I stood very close to Slim Santa, and we watched as he meandered to the creek and left us.

Bucky wasn’t the only wildlife I encountered; when we were swimming at my sister-in-law’s, I grabbed my phone to take a few photos, and I saw this GIANT fish swim right up near the dock. It was at least two feet long, and it was in very shallow water. I have never seen anything like it; it looked like a giant version of those sucker fish that you buy for your fish tank to keep it clean.

I was thinking while on vacation just how easy everything is now. When the boys were small and we stayed in the original, unrenovated house, with one bathroom and a toilet that flushed maybe once every four times, at best, and that backed up into the shower while I was showering, everything was hard. A “vacation” simply meant that I was doing all the things I normally did at home, but in much less convenient circumstances; it was exactly like that Onion headline:

But now we have a beautiful house with THREE bathrooms and all the toilets flush, and I make meals we like without feeling sad that no one ever makes meals for me – no one does, but I have moved past the Sad Feeling – and the boys clean up the kitchen and help with the everyday jobs, and put on their own sunscreen, which is, as every parent knows, an amazing gift, and if I forget something at the store I can send my son out to pick it up, and we can entertain friends without worrying about bedtime or crying or anything else. With the kids becoming adults, family vacations will become rare and more complicated, and they are probably numbered, really, so I treasured this time we had together.

These are the good old days.

These little purple flowers serve as a reminder to me: when the boys were small and my husband was golfing on vacation, and I was feeling exhausted and resentful, my late father-in-law would try to help me out a little, by taking me and the boys for rides on his Kubota utility vehicle through the vineyard, which they loved. I mentioned once that I liked these pretty purple flowers – they are chicory, I think – and then he silently drove a long way to a part of the vineyard that was covered, absolutely covered, with these flowers. He stopped the Kubota and told the boys we were going to sit there for a while, so “Mom could look at the flowers.” It’s such a lovely memory and one that reminds me that while some things always stay the same, everything changes, and what is hard right now maybe won’t be, in the future.