Category Archives: Flower Power

Scaredy Nicole Wears Blue. This Was Not Part Of The Plan!

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This weekend I got on my bike for the first time since 2003. I know! It felt like quite the undertaking. I stopped going for bike rides when I was pregnant with Mark, and then I never started again. My husband rides with the kids, but the truth is I’m not a strong rider, I cannot ride in traffic without panicking, and I just can’t deal with worrying about the kids riding WHILE I’m riding. But the kids are now at an age where they are perfectly competent, and they’ve expressed interest in “family bike rides” and so I thought riding up at the lake, where there is little traffic and few things to worry about, might be just the ticket. I also remembered how shocked the kids were to learn that I actually know how to swim, and so I thought in some way I should show them that their mother is actually capable of riding a bike.

So my husband dragged my bike out of storage, and tuned it up a bit. I went out and bought a bike skirt because if I’m going to spend any amount of time doing an athletic activity, I want to do it looking nice.

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My friend Alice (HI ALICE) expressed concern about the colour. She thought the blue was too bright for me, and that I resemble a flower, and will get swarmed by marauding butterflies. If this happens, I will probably die. Or scream.

Anyway, I nervously rode with the boys and it was pretty fun, so I guess we are going on family bike rides now. It’s one of my goals to be more sporty and active with the kids, and as long as I have a cute outfit, I’m good to go. Right?

A friend (HI JOANNE) posted a long quote about embracing yourself as you are and I just have to share the last part:

 I don’t want to waste one more precious, livable moment being anything other than totally thrilled that I’m here! I’m alive! I get to live every day in this body that my soul chose and my only job is to honor it with a full life!”
~ Christina Vanvuren

So I guess I’ll be bike riding more often. I’m not sure if ANYONE is capable of being in a state of thrill every second of every day, but it’s good to remember that it is good to be alive.

Social media is a funny thing, isn’t it? For the most part, I love it, and not just because I have a job based on it. I really like to peek into other people’s lives and celebrate their little victories and happiness. I love photos of pets, kids, and vacations. I love selfies, recipes, pictures of what someone had for dinner, and links to funny or interesting stories. Most of all, I love personal stories. The other day, a woman I know from yoga (HI LAURA) posted an anecdote in which she and her one year old son were in Starbucks and were approached by an elderly lady with dementia. This elderly lady thought that Laura’s baby was her own grandson, and instead of correcting her, Laura sat down and had visited with her. Not one out of one hundred people would do that, I think. What a kindness. This has stayed in my thoughts and has given me a goal to be more open and kind. Think about it – what a gift she gave that lady, the gift of dignity and kindness. I want to be more like Laura.

Then there’s the flip side of social media, the passive aggressive updates, the angry link posting and the threads that follow, the invitations to express differing views followed by the total rage that results from people expressing differing views. I’ve actually seen friendships – actual, real-life friendships – disintegrate over vaccination discussions and political decisions. Just this weekend, someone posted a piece about the price of starter homes. The thread that followed was basically many people agreeing that no one but the very rich can afford to buy a house, and buying a house is stupid anyway. Then one of my friends very reasonably and calmly commented that, by making informed decisions and figuring out where one’s priorities lie, most people can in fact purchase a home. He also – very reasonably – pointed out that the definition of “starter home” is possibly flawed; a 2500 square foot house with all new appliances might not fit this description.

I strongly agree with this last point. My husband and I bought this house in 2000, and it was in terrible shape at the time. The living room was bright pink with shiny forest green trim, and featured a giant fireplace with gold-toned rock work. The basement was panel board and linoleum, the kitchen had five different – but coordinated! – patterns of wallpaper, and the bathroom had BROWN FIXTURES. The kitchen cupboards and drawers were homemade in 1962 and required a great deal of strength to open and close them. The linen cupboards smelled like ginger and garlic had gone in there to die and the gardens were completely overrun by weeds and grass. That, my friends, is a starter home.

But I digress. After my friend made these very reasonable points, and also drew on his own experiences and setbacks, he was immediately attacked by the other commenters. People said some really mean, cutting things, and THAT is what I hate about social media. I hate the pretence that everyone is open minded and can express opinions freely, but if someone does that, then they get attacked. I hate that people say things that they very likely would not say face to face, and most of all, I hate when people follow up a mean comment with a smiley emoticon and/ or an “lol!”. THE LOL DOES NOT CANCEL OUT WHAT YOU SAID, PEOPLE.

Well, we can’t control what others do, we can only control our own reactions and behaviour, and that’s why there’s the “I don’t want to see this” option. And in the meantime, I will be thinking to myself “What Would Laura Do?” Laura probably wouldn’t write a blog post about what she hates about social media. Hmm. Too late now, and so if I do get swarmed by marauding butterflies, it will be karma, I guess. xo

Spring Flings, and Love The One You’re With

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You guys! Remember the shampoo incident wherein I went to Costco, didn’t buy shampoo because it wasn’t on my list, and then that very night my child informed me that we were out of shampoo, and I discovered I didn’t have any in the pantry, and I had a premenstrually-induced semi-breakdown? The other morning I was drinking my first of many cups of coffee when my husband called to me from the bathroom. He was in the shower and I hurried in to see what was so urgent. Was he okay? Was he having a heart attack? No, he just wanted to let me know that we were getting low on shampoo and could I check to see if we had more, if not, could we put it on the Costco list? He didn’t, he said, want me to get upset again.

He said this while giving me a look that one might give when encountering an armed-and-dangerous, mentally disturbed prisoner on the lam.

Many years ago, we had a rickety wooden deck outside our back door; when Mark was a baby my husband decided to take it out and replant the area with grass. There was a great deal of gravel, but did I mention Mark was a baby? We were quite sleep deprived, so he put top soil over the gravel, planted grass, and regretted it for the next eleven years. The grass always started out the season just fine, but would dry up and go brown once the warm weather hit, and no amount of rain or watering would change that.

My husband talked about digging it up but I confess, I discouraged such action. The affected area was maybe 30 square feet, and I just didn’t feel like it was worth it. Translation: digging out gravel is hard. But this year my husband was determined, and since we have two boys who are – as yet – eager to help out with any and all yardwork, I went out one evening and came home to the three of them digging up the grass. The die was cast, and the next few days, every spare moment was devoted to the Project. I even helped, although my gravel shovelling skills are somewhat suspect.

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Many wheelbarrows full of gravel, loam, and sod later…

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So that was exciting. The boys and I also bought some more flowers, mainly for the front yard containers. I allowed the children to choose and Jake wanted to buy white geraniums for a particular container, which I gently tried to discourage, as I prefer more colour. He insisted and I capitulated, thinking what the hell, it’s only flowers, and how many more years is he really going to want to be at the garden centre with his mother? It turned out really nicely, as they go with the snowdrop anemones, and will look lovely once the white-and-green variegated hostas come up.

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Speaking of hostas, my backyard is south facing; the garden in front of my detached garage is north facing, and gets almost zero sun exposure since the house shades it in the morning, when the north-facing gardens usually get some sun. It’s planted with hostas, and I fill in the spaces with impatiens, and it’s just beautiful – for about three months out of the year. This is the garden that I look at the most often, since it faces my kitchen window, and this is what it currently looks like:

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In other words, the least attractive garden is the one I look at the most. I have beautiful colour and plants all over the front and back yards…except there. Tragic!

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Speaking of tragedies, Jake brought home The Big Book Of Why from the library, and he and Mark have been enjoying reading it in the evenings. Mark was deep into one of the “whys” when he asked me who was William Shakespeare? Well! I chatted on and on about playwrights and the Elizabethan era, and then talked about some of his plays. “Have you heard of Romeo and Juliet?” I asked, and when the boys said they’d heard of it, but didn’t know anything about it, I gave them a brief synopsis. At the conclusion, they were silent for a minute.

Jake then blurted out, “That is SO STUPID. I mean, the parents are jerks so you KILL YOURSELF? That’s so dumb! Why don’t you just get a new girlfriend? There’s so many girls!”

I sense that we do NOT have a future playwright in our house. I also sense that Jake is going to be a “love the one you’re with” sort of guy.

Lettuce pray.

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This morning I got home from yoga a bit earlier than normal, at about 6:20, and this is what my back yard looked like:

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One hour later I took “weed the garden” off my to-do list.

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Well, the snow’s stopped now and I’m sure it will be melted by the time I pick the kids up after school. I’d be more upset about it but really, we’ve had such a mild winter and a beautiful spring that it doesn’t seem to be getting me down at all. Maybe that’s because I have a new secret admirer.

Last week I received an email, from someone amiably named “Birky Tony”:

Hello,Am so sorry to have intrude in your privacy i sincerely like your profile picture on facebook it really caught  my attention. hope you don’t mind us knowing each other much better?.My Name is Birky, I’m from Austin texas.Am a 9 years widower,I live with my pet dogs.I am a Man with sense of humor,I am passionate and romantic,I have the fear of God in me, I have respect for my fellow human being.! It will be wonderful of you to send me a feedback if you want us to get along and know each other.I promise to make you happy and always put a smile on your face.Thanks and Cheers!

Regards,
Birky

It’s nice to know I have options, especially with regards to a person who has respect for his fellow human being, but apparently no respect for rules of punctuation and grammar. Any moment now, Birky is preparing to send a photo proving his masculinity, I just know it.

Did you have a nice weekend? I was much, much busier than normal, but in a good way. We all went to see Avengers: Age of Ultron on Saturday, and I found it to be even more of a snore than I normally find those types of movies. Zzzzz. I mean, really. All those men and the only one we see shirtless is Bruce Banner? THIS IS AN OUTRAGE. I enjoyed a) seeing Captain America in a tight t-shirt chopping wood, b) the on-screen romance between Natasha and the afore-mentioned Dr. Banner, and c) recognizing that Hawkeye’s pregnant wife is actually Sylvia from Mad Men. Other than that, I mostly thought of other things during the long, long movie that seemed to never end.

But I’m not the target audience, am I? It’s not like Joss Whedon is writing movies for people like me, but still, it would have been nice to see a little shirtless action.

And, of course, it was Mother’s Day, and I hope all you moms out there had a great day. Well, I hope everyone reading this had a great day, but you know what I’m saying. I got two awesome cards that I had spied in backpacks last week, a gorgeous blue Le Creuset canister to hold all my cooking utensils – huge improvement on the previous situation, in which I was constantly jamming in my numerous spoons and whisks and occasionally swearing about it – and a matching spatula! It was almost as exciting as last year’s giant bag of dirt, which is really saying something.

I say that without irony, by the way. I really was thrilled about my giant bag of dirt. The gardens are looking great this year already – and will look even better when the snow melts, I’m sure.

And speaking of gardens, my indoor grow lights are really paying off, and no, not like that. Look, it’s my first harvest!

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It’s mostly leaf lettuce, but there’s a bit of spinach and arugula in there as well. I’m pretty excited to plant more, because it was amazing. And it only took five weeks of concerted effort!

As we enter the tween stage, my plants shall be my babies.

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Yesterday, Jake had a field trip – to a movie theatre. Apparently there is a film festival going on – who knew? Not me. – and his class was slated to see a movie called The Seventh Dwarf, which was, obviously, all about fairy tales and reimagining of traditional fairy tales. According to Jake, it was a total snore. I guess there weren’t enough explosions for him.

Of course there was a liability waiver to sign, and among all the possible hazards – bus crashing, children walking in a parking lot, etc. – there was a new one: “unfamiliar environment”. I’m not exactly sure what the exact hazard associated with “unfamiliar environment” is. Getting lost, maybe? But “becoming separated from the group” was also listed, which is sort of the same thing as being lost. The noise level in the theatre, maybe? The darkness? I just don’t know.

I planted herbs and greens in my brand-new indoor grow-light garden on Monday, and they are already sprouting. I’m incredibly excited about it, and now my husband and I are referring to the little sprouts as my “babies”, in case you’re wondering exactly what kind of crazy old lady I am destined to be. I am going to be the crazy old lady with a million houseplants, all started from seed, which will be referred to as my babies, and my indoor jungle will be the talk of the nursing home. This, in addition to my vision of myself with terribly artificial, flame-red hair, lipstick bleeding into the fine lines around my mouth, reeking of Chanel Number Five, making sexually inappropriate comments to all the male orderlies and strutting around in my slacks and pumps, will be me in forty years. It’s good to have goals.

Speaking of goals, yesterday I dropped the boys off at karate and headed to Superstore to pick up a few items. At 5:30 on a Thursday night, I made it IN AND OUT IN FIFTEEN MINUTES. This includes the time I spent browsing the Daiya cheese section to check out their prices, and the time I spent wondering if I should purchase my nail polish in “Shell” or “Pretty in Pink”. Fifteen minutes! It’s a new record. It gave me some time to just relax and read a book before the boys’ class finished.

I’ve been reading The Goldfinch, and I really like it, except for one thing: all the drug use. Call me “square”, call me “lame”, but the excessive drug use and descriptions are really, really disgusting. I find myself flipping forward to see if there is still excessive drug use or if the main character has gone “straight”, then sighing, I realize that he’s still high, and turn back to the original chapter. I had this same experience while reading Shantaram and the descriptions of being incarcerated in an Indian jail; I would flip forward 100 pages to see if he was still in jail, OMG he is, I cannot take it anymore. Yet, I’m emotionally invested enough in the story to keep reading; I gave up on Shantaram during his heroin withdrawal scenes. I guess I just don’t have the emotional wherewithal to cope with fictional junkies.

The book fair is next week; I’ve been busy this week preparing for the fair itself plus getting organized for having a few days totally out of the house, etcetera. It’s been a productive week but now I’ve lost all motivation. I have a can of chickpeas sitting on the counter, waiting for me to magically turn them into hummus for dinner, and a giant basket of laundry in need of folding, and yet all I want to do is sink into the couch with a glass of wine. On the count of three, I’m pressing publish and finishing those little tasks so I can uncork that bottle, guilt free. Have a lovely weekend, lovelies. One, two, three…

All that time spent searching, and it was right there in front of me.

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In further Adventures In My Back Alley, last week there was a dead rabbit. Now, my neighbourhood has a lot of big jackrabbits running (hopping?) around, and their numbers are exceeded only by the squirrel population. We are overrun. Anyway, given the large jackrabbit population, it is rare to see a dead one – they are quite street-smart, these rabbits – and so it is notable that there was a squashed one 100 feet away from my garage. I don’t know what was more upsetting, the squashed carcass or the massive flock of magpies eating it. It was quite distressing, since I drive past this carnage several times a day on my way to school, activities, groceries, etc. Then, one day, it was completely gone. Is it possible the magpies carried it away? Or is one of my neighbours much more strong-stomached than me, and felt it was his or her duty to the neighbourhood to clean it up? In any case, it’s gone, leaving only a stain on the ice behind.

It’s like a gross suburban nature show. I’m sort of surprised no one has made a reality series based on carrion and scavengers.

In much nicer news, I realized that my phone has a “Health” app on it. I know. I know. It’s all very five years ago, but I’ve spent some time in waiting rooms in the past week, and so due to extreme boredom I actually looked at the Health app. It features a step counter, which immediately made me feel inferior. Apparently, in order to keep up with my competitive nature, I need to start carrying my phone everywhere now. My steps are too low! If I walked 10,000 steps but the phone wasn’t there to capture it, did it really happen?

Speaking of Health, I’ve had lots of appointments lately, which makes me want to write a whole series of posts about Women’s Health. For example, last Friday I had a colposcopy, and the first thing I did was inform the gynecologist that the last time I was there, her partner couldn’t find my cervix, so I just wanted to let her know that I have a mysterious, hidden cervix. I used the words “cavernous wasteland” and I was talking pretty quickly because I was nervous, and feeling slightly exposed, what with my feet in the stirrups and no pants and anticipating a high level of discomfort. She listened to me, frowning, and looked at my chart. She looked at me, then at the chart again, and said “But I don’t have anything like that written down. Usually I note down any issues.”

I used my ujjayi breath, trying to stem the panic as she started the exam. “Huh.” she said, “Here’s your cervix. It’s…not hidden. Don’t worry. You’re not a wasteland.”

So that was relieving. Regarding womanhood, and women’s bodies, I found this very interesting, about changes in the “ideal female body” over the past 100 years. One conclusion that I think we can draw is that the “ideal female body” varies vastly from decade to decade, and we should all say “fuck it” and just celebrate our bodies the way they are. Right? Also, reading this I learned that I have the same bra size as both Jean Harlowe and Farrah Fawcett, which strikes me as gratifying, in a very strange way.

I told my husband this, since he was a big fan of Farrah back in the day, but he was less interested that I anticipated. “Isn’t she dead? How do you know her bra size?” Oh, honey. Just let me have my five minutes of weird same-bra-as-a-1970s-poster-girl moment.

I will now leave you with this photo, of Barkley dressed as an elderly lady who is judging you.

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Barkley is disappointed in your choices. He thinks you are wearing too much lipstick, and your skirt could be longer. He thinks that ladies do not talk about their cervix.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Fall Is Almost Done Edition

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Yesterday morning I woke up and headed to the bathroom to change into my yoga clothes. I wondered why I was feeling so exhausted, when I had gone to bed at a decent time; then I looked at the clock. It was 3:45. I’m just glad I figured that out before I left for the yoga studio, because that would have been weird.

This morning it was -5 Celsius when I woke up, which feels officially like winter. I pulled on my legwarmers and dug out my gigantic mittens so that I wouldn’t freeze walking the dog. Fall just really flew by, and it’s been forever since I’ve done a Favourite Things post, so today I bring you…

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Fall Is Almost Done Edition

Lee Valley Apple Peeler

Remember how I brought home 100 pounds of apples and fifty pounds of grapes from my in-laws’? I juiced the grapes (most of them, the rest I either ate or gave away to fruit-loving friends) and then mixed the thick, pulpy juice to make fruit leather. It’s amazing, and if I figure out how to write it up as a recipe without being totally vague (“puree some apples, add some juice, and dry it in a dehydrator”) it will be over at Yummy Mummy Club. In the meantime, check out the fruit leather!

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The kids tell me this is The Best Fruit Leather Ever. Grapes, apples, and the secret ingredient: LOVE.

Seriously, it’s really good. But what does this have to do with the Lee Valley Apple Peeler? My husband gave me the apple peeler for Christmas – he knows what I like, apple peelers and diamonds – and I am not exaggerating when I tell you it is the single greatest apple peeler in the history of apple peelers. If you have a need to peel 100 pounds of apples, or any amount of apples, really, this is the tool to have. Peels, cores, slices, ALL AT THE SAME TIME. I think I’m a little bit in love with the apple peeler and that is not at all disturbing.

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Apple carnage.

Halloween Festivities

Finally I got our decorative scarecrows up, only to have them taken down ten days later because the kids said they “didn’t fit with the theme”. The theme being creepy decorations.

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Scarecrows are inappropriate additions to this house of terror.

A friend and I were talking about how as the kids age the Halloween decorations morph from happy little jack-o-lanterns into death and dismemberment. The cutesy little ghost and orange-hatted black cat are MY decorations, the kids put them up to humour me. Although, the black cat’s head is hanging on by a string so maybe “partially beheaded black cat” might be part of their overall vision.

In any case, we carved pumpkins this weekend and I de-gooped enough seeds to roast. This never happens. I usually get so bored with my job as pumpkin de-gooper and seed-cleaner that I end up throwing them out. This is a mistake! Warm roasted pumpkin seeds are more than worth it. Or kind of worth it, anyway.

Beauty Products

As you know, I’m always trying out new things – especially hair product. My, oh my, is my hair dry at this time of year. It’s only going to get drier and more straw-like. To add insult to injury, I realized this morning that it’s official: I cannot go six weeks between colourings any more. I’m starting to look like Arlene from Dragon’s Den and although I love her fabulous shoes, I want mono-coloured hair. In any case, I bought these giant bottles of Organix Coconut Milk Shampoo and Conditioner at Costco, and not only do I smell tropical, my hair is also noticeably softer.

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I love buying gigantic shampoo.

Speaking of Costco, I bought Crest 3D White toothpaste in a pack of four, which is always a risk, as far as I’m concerned. This is the thing about Costco: it’s not the place to shop if you just want to try something out. But I’m glad I took the risk of buying an insane amount of toothpaste because this is the most amazing toothpaste I’ve ever tried. If it’s possible to be in love with my apple peeler, then I’m having a torrid affair with this toothpaste.

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I’ve already used one of the toothpastes. Costco score!

On Thanksgiving weekend, we visited some friends (hi Sam!) and while having a casual conversation, Sam asked if I had been whitening my teeth. I probably talked a little TOO excitedly about this toothpaste. If you have a coffee/ wine/ grapes habit, you might want to consider this.

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White teeth! I think that’s a book, actually. I’m pretty sure I read it for a book club back in the early 2000’s.

Sexy Ebola Containment Suits

My friend sent me this article today, and the title alone made me literally LAUGH OUT LOUD, no acronyms involved. “The Inevitable Comes To Pass: Of Course A Sexy Ebola Containment Suit Exists”. And of course, upon reading this article I had to find where one buys a Sexy Ebola Containment Suit.

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Go buy one now before they are out of stock! It’s a steal at $59.99. Buy the boots and your partner’s outfit for only $189.99!

Honestly, I’d much rather see one million posts about Sexy Ebola Containment Suits than most things that are in the news these days. Bring it on, weird Halloween costumes. For example, this costume which is clearly Smurfette but there must have been some kind of licensing problem:

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Troll-ette? You are fooling no one, costume website.

Or a Sexy French Fries Costume, because I don’t know about you, but when I hear “French Fries” I think “SEXYTIMES”.

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There is also “Sexy Hamburger” and “Sexy Taco” but that makes me feel extremely uncomfortable, so you’ll have to be satisfied with the fries only.

Pretty Leaves

On a more wholesome note, this has been the prettiest fall that I can remember. The colours are gorgeous! It must have been that early-September snow?

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This dogwood has never looked so pretty!

Fall Food

Fruit leather does not a meal make, so hooray for butternut squash season! I have a fabulous creamy butternut squash soup recipe over at Yummy Mummy Club, plus this very fun, very fast, very easy recipe for Dark Chocolate Raspberry Mousse Trifle. The trifle requires THREE TABLESPOONS of beer, which means you have to drink the rest or allow it to go to waste. Don’t be wasteful! Make this recipe and sip a brewsky while it’s chilling. You can be chilling while it’s chilling! Do people still say “chilling”?

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You know you want it.

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A very satisfying soup.

So there you have it! My favourite things – before winter sets in! And as usual, this is not a sponsored post, I didn’t receive anything for free, I just really like all these things! Also as usual, it’s giveaway time! To enter, leave a comment about what your favourite thing is about this time of year and you could win! A random winner will be drawn Friday, November 7. xo

We Are Groot

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So one week ago today we were in the thick of a snow-related apocalypse, the power off and trees down, streets treacherous and temperatures dipping below freezing. Today it’s sunny and 25 degrees Celsius, which really indicates how average temperatures are calculated in this city.

On a related note, this weekend we cleaned up the tree carnage in our front yard, and for those of you who have small children who need to be corralled and distracted and given “jobs” like “put this little stick in the bin, that’s right, just like that, good boy! Okay, now another stick.” every time you need to do yard work, take heart. My kids are actually helpful now, and the cleanup was faster by about 200%, if it was just my husband and I doing it. The giant branches needed to be taken to the back alley, where ostensibly at some point they will be picked up and chipped by the city, and the boys were eager to see who could drag the larger branch and/or the most branches through the back yard to the alley. This competition was punctuated by constant loud declarations of “I AM GROOT” each and very time they picked up a branch. Each and every time. But I am not complaining, because their competition to get all the heavy branches to showcase their immense strength meant that I could gather all the light ones, and I’m all about not lifting heavy things.

Jake’s birthday was on Monday, and so we did a bunch of celebrating this weekend. Mark gave him some Lego and a keychain of the Lego Movie good cop/ bad cop which had the added benefit of a small LED light. Jake thanked his brother profusely for such a thoughtful gift.

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My husband and I gave Jake a camera, and he immediately tested it out by photographing things around the house, then making a video, which seemed to star the dog scratching his ear and then lying down. My friend Lyn suggested that with the right music, this could be an avant-garde film of sorts – crescendoing music with the PING of an xylophone. Maybe I have an artiste on my hands.

It’s been a bit of a busy week; tonight is the school’s Welcome Back Picnic, which was rescheduled from last week due to snow, followed by the first School Council/ Parent Association meeting of the year. Did I mention I’m chairing again? I am. I am chairing again. I probably need offer no further comment.

Yesterday I had some running around to do; namely a post office visit that turned epic when it became apparent that the woman helping me was brand new to the job. It took a long time, while I breathed and smiled and thought of my to-do list with increasing agitation. It’s like I have two little angels on my shoulders, one that says I am doing a civic duty by being patient so this woman can practice her skills on me, and the other that says OMFG how long have I BEEN here? In any case, it got sorted with me still smiling politely, and after that I stopped by the adjacent Walmart to pick up a few items that say a lot about me: lipgloss, cocoa butter hand cream, and wax strips.

And Walmart, usually so soul-destroying and spirit-breaking, Walmart served to lift me up where I belonged, where the eagles cry on a mountain high. Because as I entered the usually cringe-worthy store, I witnessed the cutest thing: the elderly greeter hardcore flirting with a cute elderly lady who was returning a cart from somewhere in the mall. I actually slowed my pace and pretended to look at the display of bathroom tissue and Oreos, just so I could eavesdrop. After a few minutes I went on my way, but they were still chatting. Maybe they were going to meet for a coffee and donut at the Tim Horton’s after his shift? I certainly hope so.