Category Archives: Food

19th Nervous Breakdown (in the grocery store); Thirty-Five Weeks In

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The province announced what I am going to call a very mini-shutdown on Friday the 13th, and it called to mind the last Friday the 13th, eight months ago, when the very mini-shutdown led to the total big shutdown. It’s enough to make a person turn superstitious. I’ve been oscillating between despair that a mini-shutdown is going to do anything at all, sadness that there is really no way to police what seems to be the real driver, large private gatherings and that people are just going to keep partying, slight hope that two weeks might make a difference, and a what can you do other than recite the Serenity Prayer over and over kind of feeling. I’ve been refreshing the news all weekend but so far, still a very mini-shutdown, also still the depths of despair about a looming full-scale one. Well, today I feel calm and zen about the whole thing, it’s like I’ve been constantly preparing for the possibility of a full-scale shutdown. My house is stocked, my pantry is full, my Christmas shopping is complete and I have two cases of wine in the basement.

What more could a girl need?

Two of my favourite bloggers, Suzanne and Swistle (HI SUZANNE HI SWISTLE) have been regularly writing about grocery store shortages, and I find it endlessly fascinating, the things that are available and unavailable in other parts of the continent. Forget continent, there are variances in our province. My mother, who lives two hours north of me, couldn’t obtain a ten-kilogram bag of flour, whereas in my grocery stores, flour is plentiful. In fact, last week Superstore had the ten-kilogram bags on sale for $8.98. EIGHT DOLLARS AND NINETY-EIGHT CENTS. For ten kilograms of flour. Of course I picked one up, even though I had two bags at home, which leads me to my next point.

My brain has completely changed in the past eight months; I used to be able to calmly think oh, I have flour at home, I can get some when I need it, but not anymore. NOT ANYMORE. Suzanne referred to this as Grocery Store Pathology, this panicked feeling that if you do not seize the moment and buy the things that are available to you, they may not be there next time.

Here’s the thing: circling back to the grocery store shortages, I have not really noticed anything in short supply over the past few months. There has been talk about aluminum shortages, but I bought soda water in cans last week and there certainly didn’t seem to be any shortage of that. Flour – as mentioned – pasta, rice, frozen vegetables, toilet paper and paper towel, all of those things are plentiful right now. The one thing I’ve noticed – and this probably isn’t a pandemic thing, it’s more like a weird Superstore thing – is that I haven’t been able to get my favourite kind of peanut butter, Just Nuts Crunchy.

All the other Just Nuts peanut butters are available: creamy, sea salt, honey, but the crunchy hasn’t been there for weeks, and I was starting to get into my one backup jar, so I was feeling a bit desperate. I mean, I only eat peanut butter on toast once or twice a week, so the situation was not DIRE, but it felt like it was. I took a leap of faith and bought the store brand natural crunchy peanut butter, although I was somewhat irritated to discover that it was a dollar more expensive than the name brand for the exact same size. The store brand! More expensive! This is an outrage, I want to talk to the manager.

Anyway, as I was in Superstore last week I was feeling so serene about everything – it’s fine, everything’s fine, if the worst thing that happens is I eat store brand peanut butter, well, I am better off than pretty much everyone – until I got to the baking aisle. I needed a carton of molasses with which to make my annual gingersnaps. I had finished my last carton making gingerbread a few weeks ago. I pushed my cart, humming along to the music, and then, puzzled, retraced my steps. I looked again. People, there was no molasses. I stared at the empty shelf for a solid minute and then felt like I might have an actual breakdown right there in the baking aisle, next to the dried fruit, shredded coconut, and shortening. CHRISTMAS IS CANCELLED, THERE ARE NO GINGERSNAPS. It was a 180 degree flip, from calm and serene to everything is terrible. On the outside, I’m sure I seemed perfectly fine and put together, but it’s like when your sock starts sliding off into your boot: I was not fine. I smiled at people through my mask, I chatted with the cashier, I gestured to the elderly man who had literally a loaf of bread and a package of sausages to go in front of me, but on the inside, I was like the Sadness character from Inside Out.

I made it to the parking lot, and it had not been plowed. I immediately regretted the soda water and the ten kilograms of flour, as my cart became immovably stuck in the snow. What even is the point of all this flour. I cannot make gingersnaps. Is there even a molasses substitute. All is ashes.

Literally, I could not move the cart, using all my strength and momentum. I stared up the aisle of the parking lot, seeing my car in the distance. There was nothing for it but to abandon my cart and carry each bin, one by one, to my car as fast as I could. By the time I had gotten down to the last bin, a very kind woman stopped and helped me move the cart to a packed-down part of the parking lot, and from there I was able to maneuver it to my car, the whole time wondering how many calories I was burning during this shopping trip. Her kindness perked me up, and I decided to stop at the Co-Op on the way home. I don’t like doing two grocery shops in a week but I thought I would just pop in and pop out, to see if they had molasses. People, they did, they had shelves of it, and I bought TWO, which is much more than I need but hey. Grocery store pathology. I can always use it next year.

Pandemic Reading

Apparently Toxic Masculinity was the unwitting theme of the week. Last week it was Liar’s Poker, this week:

I am unsure if I am recommending this to you or not. I mean. At its core, it’s a story about a family, told from multiple points of view. It’s also a study of toxic masculinity and the rise of supporters of a certain person who wanted to make America great again. So, it might be a wee bit raw. It was well-written. It was well done. It was thoughtful and insightful and very smart. But. I cannot say it was enjoyable.

This was a really wonderful book – by a Canadian author – about being a young woman in a secret relationship with an older, prominent politician. Well, you probably think you know where this is going. But it has turns I did not expect and an ending I did not expect, and it was very well done. It was probably the most brutally honest, yet enjoyable, book about being young and in a toxic relationship. Speaking of toxic masculinity! It’s up there, Steve.

This was the week to pull out the Christmas tea towels, coffee mugs, and music. 70s on 7 has been changed to the Hallmark channel while in the car, and my festive Spotify playlists have been on repeat. We need a little Christmas, right this very minute. Stay safe and healthy, friends. xo

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)!

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

One Day More; Twenty-Three and Twenty-Four Weeks In

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Summer’s Almost Gone

School starts TOMORROW, and at this time every year I have feelings of melancholy and why-is-time-so-fleeting and landslide. I would say that I am having those feelings on steroids this year. Despite everything, we have had a really good summer; last week the boys got back from their annual camping trip with their dad, and said that they have had the best summer ever. The best. Summer ever. In 2020.

A habit I’ve established during this pandemic is reading a poem every morning before my yoga practice, and then during the yoga practice I meditate on an aspect of that poem. Last week I read this by Mary Oliver:

The present is what your life is, and you are capable of choosing what that will be. I love that. I guess if my boys can think that Summer 2020 has been the best summer of their lives so far, I can march forward into Fall 2020.

Both boys will be in high school, and they have a lot of health and safety protocols that make me feel as comfortable as I’m going to feel. Although every time I turn around someone is raging “But HOW can they POSSIBLY (fill in the blank: social distance, eat lunch, have gym or drama class…)” and I have to just take deep breaths. They will do their best with mandatory masks and eating lunches in designated classrooms and sanitization stations; they won’t have lockers, or change rooms and tote boxes for gym, which should be interesting. Take a deep breath and jump in, is what it feels like.

The masks arrived!

Small Non-Pandemic-Related Grievance

Last week I learned that my Garmin watch automatically resets after 150 days of a movement streak. I discovered this while running on Friday; my watch congratulated me on my FIVE day step streak, when it was really 155 days. Well. This is a good opportunity to practice non-attachment and remember that this is just a fun gadget, not something that is dictating my life, all evidence to the contrary. Om.

Super Exciting Grocery News

While I was on vacation, my dear friend and soul sister Janet (HI JANET) texted me to let me know that after a two year hiatus, Costco is once again stocking the 34 ounce jars of sundried tomatoes. I am not sure I can adequately convey my excitement at this news; I have been buying the Much More Expensive, smaller jars of sundried tomatoes at Superstore, with which I make my pasta sauce for our Monday night meal. As soon as I was home I hightailed it to Costco.

That should hold us for a while.

In addition to that, after months of not having giant rolls of parchment paper, those were back in stock. When they went missing a few months ago, I went into Pandemic Panic At The Disco and started stockpiling parchment paper from Superstore, thinking that would be the next thing that would be completely unavailable, and that upset me more than the difficulty finding baking powder, back in April. Long story short: I now have enough parchment paper to see me into the spring of 2025, give or take.

Vacation

I was so burned out prior to our vacation. I was just emotionally exhausted; being everyone’s Emotional Support Person was really draining me. My goals for our vacation were as follows: sleep, go for walks and runs (BECAUSE I DIDN’T WANT TO BREAK MY STEP STREAK WHAT), read a lot of books, and drink wine. That is exactly what I did.

We also had some beach time with my sister-in-law; her apartment complex has a private beach which was deserted during the week. It also happened to be about 38 degrees, so that was perfect.

Pandemic Reading

I got so much reading done on vacation, which I’m glad of, as my library pile was actually fairly daunting. It’s still daunting but that’s because I have become a Weird Book Addict who can’t seem to stop putting things on hold and picking up three extra books every time I go to pick up a hold.

This was interesting: a trend forecaster sees a movement toward less technology and more actual communication and physical contact and touch. Meanwhile her boyfriend is part of an antisex neo-sensual movement. It is especially interesting to read NOW, as we are all not allowed to touch one another and my god, I miss hugging people.

A psychological thriller, and I won’t say more than that for fear of spoiling.

This was about one of Iran’s most famous women; all about poetry and feminism in a place and time that was not friendly toward women.

Just a fun, light read about a heavy topic: cancer.

Another book about cancer; I guess the man who wrote this is very famous, which I didn’t know when I picked it up. It’s very sad and touching.

If you’re at all interested in politics and racial issues between Indian and Black people in Kenya, this is a great read.

I think every woman should read this book. This was life-changing for me. It’s like a switch went off in my head. I should write an entire post just about this book, it affected me THAT much.

I really enjoy Moriarty’s writing, but this might be one of my favourites. It was just totally satisfying in every way.

Reading this book was exactly like watching a movie on the Hallmark channel, in a good way. Very soft and feel-good.

Well, off to prepare for a strange, staggered-entry week. Let’s do this! xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Herb Garden Edition

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Earlier this week we got back from ten days at our vacation place; more about that later, but it was relaxing and chill, which I desperately needed. Prior to that my husband was out there for eight days by himself, which both worked out well – we have spent 24/7 together since March – and also was a challenge in terms of solo parenting emotional people getting ready for school/ worrying about possibly not going to school/ not knowing if their friends were going to school or taking the online option, not to mention preparing for the vacation itself, and all that entails. You all know what I’m talking about.

After coming home from ten days away, there was much to be done and I just now feel like I’ve caught up on groceries and laundry, scheduling the kids to go get their school ID and paperwork – school starts TUESDAY and I have feelings, but that will be left for another post – as well as picking up the dog from the kennel and – because the kennel either lost my booking or I failed to book him in for grooming – scheduling a visit to the groomer’s.

He’s happy to be back, can you tell?

Vacation, school, and everything in between will wait for next time. What I really wanted to talk about today is…

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Herb Garden Edition

I have had so much fun this summer, growing herbs. I have kept them in pots by the back door, where it is sheltered and receives a blast of south-west sun, so it is also the hottest part of the yard. This year I grew basil, oregano, two kinds of mint, parsley, and chives, and I also transplanted my grown-in-house cilantro to a pot outside, and although transplanting cilantro is apparently a no-no, it worked great.

Pre-harvest! That’s the cilantro in front.

I learned some very important lessons: basil needs to be grown in a pot by itself, rather sharing a pot with the oregano, because oregano is super-bossy and totally takes over, don’t plant parsley unless you really love parsley or know people who do that don’t mind being constantly gifted parsley, and that I don’t actually use a lot of fresh herbs in my cooking.

I mean, I DO, I use cilantro often and chives are always a nice addition to dishes; I like to use fresh herbs while making salad dressings, and mint is nice for the occasional mojito. But honestly, my herbs were so prolific that I couldn’t possibly use them all fresh. So I got a little Ma Ingalls If Ma Ingalls Had An Herb Garden And Wasn’t Mostly Starving To Death On The Bald Prairie Most Of The Time:

Mint Extract

Fun fact about mint is that you should always grow it in a pot, unless you want it to take over your entire garden. It is VERY prolific; I would cut it right back, and within a day or two it would be happily popping back up. I decided to make some mint extract using a “recipe” I found on the internet.

First, fill a jar with a cup and a half of fresh mint. Or thereabouts!

Then muddle it to release the essence.

Add a cup or so of vodka, enough to cover things up. No need to get neurotic about the measurements. Just pour!

Fun fact! I was gifted that giant bottle of vodka on my fortieth birthday; I do like vodka but clearly I don’t have mixed drinks that often.

Don’t drink the vodka while you are doing this! Wait until later.

Once the vodka is added, let it sit in a dark cool spot for a couple of months, and then strain out the mint leaves. Did it work? Who knows! I’ll let you know around Christmastime.

Dehydration Nation

Longtime readers will remember my love affair with my dehydrator. Remember that episode of Friends when Joey has a roommate obsessed with dehydrating fruit? This? This, my friend, is a CANTALOUPE. I feel seen, is what I’m saying. Crazy Eddie, I feel you.

Anyway, my love affair continues as I used that baby to dry my herbs, particularly parsley, because OMG look at the parsley.

This was the second round of dehydrating parsley; it now looks like I need to do it a third time. WHO WANTS PARSLEY.

Excess of parsley aside, I have to tell you that it is very satisfying to have homemade dried herbs, like I’m “putting up” for the winter.

A Seedy Story

As my cilantro started to flower, my thoughts turned to seeds. Could I save the seeds for future plantings, possibly saving myself $1.99 for a seed pack? The answer is an unqualified yes.

The key to saving seeds is to allow them to DRY, and I didn’t use the dehydrator for that, I just left them on a paper towel in what is usually my indoor herb/ predominantly cilantro garden. The seeds in front were, I think, picked too soon. I may just grind them up with a mortar and pestle to make coriander. The rest are drying nicely and look like the seeds that you can buy in a package. I might be saving myself MORE than $1.99 this year. Maybe more like $2.98.

I think next year I will try a different variety of herbs; maybe just one type of mint and probably no parsley. That spot is so hot and shaded that I might just try growing tomatoes too. Wouldn’t that be fun; my very own caprese salad garden!

So tell me: have you been gardening this year? xo

Does Anyone Else Remember Hammerman; Fifteen Weeks In

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Last week, for no discernible reason, I remembered that MC Hammer had a cartoon television show called Hammerman; the actual show I do not remember at all, probably because I didn’t actually watch it, except that it featured magical shoes. Due to the magic that is the internet, I could watch an episode, or at least the theme song, which I recall was incredibly long and detailed, but I’d rather leave it as a strange memory bouncing around in my brain.

It’s funny sometimes, how popular culture from one’s childhood can just resurface for no particular reason. I’m not talking about Hammerman, as I was a teenager at the time of its popularity, such as it was, and again, I never watched it. But occasionally some Saturday morning cartoon memory will pop into my head, most notably from School House Rock or an obscure commercial for cheese (I hanker for a hunk of cheese!). I can still sing the entire theme song for ParticipAction – do it with your friends, you both can bend, do it with some hustle, you can make some muscle – and I can also still feel the shame of getting the Participant sticker, rather than the badges, handed out at gym class. I still cannot do a pull-up.

It’s incredible to think that forty years ago we were all exclusively watching Saturday morning cartoons and arranging our bathroom and cereal breaks around commercials; we had to wait a whole week to see who would be on the next episode of The Muppet Show, and an entire summer wondering who shot JR, and now anyone can watch anything at any time. I mean, I remember getting our first PVR approximately 13 years ago and the amazement that came from being able to pause and rewind live television, and now here we are, able to access Hammerman or Conjunction Junction on a whim. If I wanted to I could watch every single episode of The Facts of Life; my childhood self would be amazed and envious.

I remember learning, back in the Eighties, that some of the songs that were huge hits were also cover songs: I Think We’re Alone Now, Lean On Me, I Can’t Help Falling In Love, You Keep Me Hanging On. In recent years I discovered the OG versions of Hard to Handle and There’s Always Something There To Remind Me, and for all of the above, I prefer the originals. However, there are a few songs that I think are better as covers: Lovers In A Dangerous Time (Barenaked Ladies), Knocking on Heaven’s Door (Guns and Roses), and Light My Fire (Jose Feliciano). If you, dear reader, have any thing to add, I would love to hear it.

Speaking of hit songs, last week I learned something incredible: Jimmy Buffett has just released a new album. JIMMY BUFFETT. HAS JUST RELEASED A NEW ALBUM. Does anyone else find that amazing? I mean, for one thing, he’s 73 years old. For another thing, the man has an enormous number of albums to his name and I would challenge you to name any of them. You can’t, can you? And yet he is an incredibly successful recording artist with a devoted following, not to mention a Sirius channel of his own. Talk about finding your niche in the world. It’s quite inspiring, really. Where would we be without Margaritaville? Searching for our lost shakers of salt, I guess. We all enjoy Margaritaville, of course, but my personal favourite Jimmy Buffett song, one that I do not think gets enough accolades, is Why Don’t We Get Drunk and Screw. That is one catchy tune, and I am not being facetious. I just got a waterbed, it’s filled up for me and you.

Well, I’ll be singing that one all day, which is better than a few minutes ago, when it was ParticipAction, get with the action, do it, do it, do it.

Pandemic Reading

This was a fun week of re-reading the Rosie series. Initially I had thought that the trilogy got better and better with each book, but after reading them all this week, I have decided that they are all equally excellent in their own way, which is a huge and rare accomplishment for any trilogy. I really love how the books portray a person who processes the world differently, with so much affection and humour.

Yummy Things

I have been having the occasional Friday afternoon wine date with my dear friend and neighbour Taryn (HI TARYN); last week I made the three house trek to her backyard, carrying my brand new (thank you, Superstore, for your free gift with purchase) camping chair, and this tote bag packed with wine, my keys, and a glass. Isn’t it cute?

For Sunday night dessert last night, my older son made a pan of Reese Peanut Butter Bars; if you like peanut butter and chocolate and you see a package in the grocery store, buy it! The bars were very yummy and simple to put together.

What’s Blooming

This has been a strangely late year for almost all my shrubs and plants; the roses are coming along but still pretty stick-like, the dogwoods are not completely leafed out yet, and although my newly-planted clematis is blooming, my established one is not. However, the lilacs are fully out and almost finished, and the Siberian irises are glorious.

Pandemic Fitness

When running and walking this week, the lilac scents have been absolutely wonderful. Our fitness club has reopened with lots of restrictions, and I haven’t yet gone, but I’m considering doing a reconnaissance this week, as the weather has changed from Pleasant to Cold and Rainy. We will see.

Have a wonderful week, everybody! Keep safe! xo