Category Archives: Friluftsliv

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Fight The Gloom Edition

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November is such a grey and gloomy month, isn’t it? As I write this, the sun rises at 7:29 am and sets at 4:02 pm, and those precious daylight hours are only going to get worse before they get better. However! November is also the month of Tiny Secret Festive Season, which morphs into Full On Festive Season, and all the happiness and light that brings to me. In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer. It’s not the depth of winter, not even close, but the sentiment stands. In the depth of November, within me I found some Favourite Things.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Fight The Gloom Edition

It’s Puzzle Season, Motherfuckers

November through March – i.e., the non-garden season – is unofficially Puzzle Season around here. I love a good puzzle but I definitely gravitate towards the less difficult realm. Do I want to go insane while staring at 1000 pieces of hell? No I do not. My husband is a person who enjoys wildly difficult puzzles, like the one we did of a canoe on a lake with a background of mountains, or the one of Queen Elizabeth’s coronation in which every single piece was the exact same shape. I like a series of vignettes, is what I’m saying.

The completed puzzle!

My older son gave this Jane Austen puzzle to me for my birthday, and I saved it to kick off Puzzle Season. It’s a very special puzzle because the photo on the box does not contain the solution. The Puzzler must put the characters together, figure out who goes with whom, and then use the conversational clues to figure out how to arrange them for the final product.

ELL-OH-ELL Mr Darcy

You need to be a Fan, is what it boils down to.

Oh, Caroline Bingley. Go pretend to read a book.

It’s a really clever idea and it was so much fun. I tried to explain WHY it was so amusing to my family, and their eyes started glazing over.

Fun fact: I used It’s Puzzle Season, Motherfuckers for a Favourite Things last December, and it also included a Jane Austen puzzle! Will the pattern continue? Check in with me in 2026!

Oh, I’m Writing My Life Away

On the topic of Items Received For My Birthday That I Am Using Seven Months Later, my dear friend Suzanne (HI SUZANNE) sent me this notebook.

Mary Oliver!

I was absolutely delighted, and I knew that I wanted to save it for a special use. Right now Inhale Exhale is out for review with Clarion, which means that the process is out of my hands, as nerve-wracking as that is. Time to redirect that nervous energy and start something new!

Work in progress.

Two of the women in my writing group, Gill and Michela (HI GILL HI MICHELA) swear by Morning Pages; they say that there is something about it that really sparks creativity. I am not at the Morning Pages Life Stage yet, but I have been using Suzanne’s gorgeous notebook to handwrite thoughts about my new project in a very stream-of-consciousness way. And I have to say, it has worked. Creativity has been sparked!

On the same topic:

Isn’t that a beautiful cover? I am SO pleased with it. If you’re wondering what it’s about, wonder no more!

My publisher, Friesen Press, is a hybrid one, which means that my path to publication is not traditional and I won’t have the ability to pre-order, or to give you an exact release date quite yet. However! It will be available at all the usual bookstores, and the MINUTE I have that information, it will be here on the blog, it will be on my Instagram, it will be on Facebook, it will be sung from my own rooftop. I absolutely loved writing this, and I hope people will love reading it.

Me and my writing buddy.

She Walked Up To Me and She Asked Me To Pose…Y-O-G-A Yoga

I realize that a discussion of yoga mats might be more topical in, say, January, but in my mind ANY time is a good time for yoga. Also, it’s possible that one might want a yoga mat for Christmas, and I have very strong feelings on this topic.

As a small digression, I would like to go on the record to say that yoga truly is for everyone. No one is “bad at yoga.” No one “can’t do yoga.” No one is “too stiff” to do yoga. There are as many ways of practicing yoga as there are people on this earth. Some people do seated postures on a mat, some people do standing postures, some people sit in a chair, some people lie in savasana. And, as I said sternly to my husband and son who were watching a commercial with a football player doing a barre practice while someone jeered, no yoga teacher has ever “laughed at” a student. If such a thing has ever occurred, it has not been in my hearing, and I would posit a theory that such a person is not truly a yoga teacher. Yoga teachers are almost exclusively a gentle, loving bunch who only want the best for their students. If a person can sit quietly and listen to the sound of their breath for thirty seconds, THEY ARE DOING YOGA. Yoga doesn’t necessarily mean putting legs behind one’s head, although it can. Yoga doesn’t necessarily mean touching one’s toes, although it can. Yoga is LIFE and it is practicing loving-kindness to oneself and to the world around us, and it means leaving a room a little brighter than one found it. In this definition, I would venture to say that we are all yogis. We are all practicing yoga every day, or at least we have the potential to. Being able to touch one’s toes is a nice thing, but it doesn’t define a yoga practice.

Back to the topic at hand, which is my own personal physical yoga practice, and my mat of choice, which is a Manduka Pro Black Mat. It is expensive, yes, but it is the best mat on the market. It is thick and heavy and doesn’t move around while you practice, even if you are taking vigourous vinyasas. It gives cushion for the knees and for the sitz bones, and mine are going to go with me to my grave. My (theoretical) great-grandchildren will be cleaning out my room at The Home and will wonder why Grandma had so many mats.

Because I do have SO many mats. There are four – FOUR – Manduka Pros in this house, although one is my husband’s, given by me for Christmas one year.

My husband’s mat, foam roller, and yoga balls. I feel like a picture is worth a thousand words here.

One of the mats was purchased to leave at this house, when we lived in Calgary, so that I didn’t have to schlep it back and forth. Another was my practice mat, which I kept in a storage space at the Yoga Shala, and the other was my teaching mat, which lived in my minivan and would be taken to all the non-Shala places I used to teach. And then the pandemic happened, and the Shala closed, and my classes went from ten a week to two, and those two were taught via zoom; my need for multiple mats evaporated, but my mats live on.

The collection.

Ever since my friend Gillian (HI GILLIAN) turned me on to them in 2009, I have been a devotee of the mat cover. These microfibre covers serve several purposes: a) they keep your hands and feet from slipping by being grippier the more sweaty one gets, which is good news for a sweaty gal like myself, b) although this seems to completely contradict what I just said, it makes your feet slide nicely when doing vinyasa, c) it feels nicer than a naked rubber mat, and d) it keeps the mat clean and is machine-washable. Need I say more? And yes, I have three, one for each of my mats.

The practice space, complete with practice buddy in doughnut pose.

Friluftsliv!

A little while ago, my friend Sarah (HI SARAH) said plaintively in response to all the autumnal celebrations that fall is already really nice, what are we doing about winter? Well, what I do, and what I have done for the past five and a half years, is to embrace my half-Norwegian heritage and the concept of friluftsliv, which means that life is best lived outside. I go outside every single day and I also embrace the somewhat strident Scandinavian belief that there is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes. To that end, I want to talk about something that has definitely made my Favourites in the past: the bum warmer.

Walking In Winter Fashion

A woman in Calgary that I met through a Yoga Shala holiday market buys old sweaters at thrift stores and transforms them into a skirt-like item, the bum warmer, and then uses the remainder to make headbands and mittens. You would not believe the difference this makes, warmth-wise! I have three of them but this is my festive season set. I top off the look with legwarmers and a toque, and I am cozy and toasty and ready for the outdoors. It’s very hygge, and also very ecologically friendly.

You Don’t Know What You’ve Got ‘Til It’s Gone

To think I took something as mundane as the mail for granted for almost my whole life. I didn’t realize how much happiness sending and receiving mail gave me, particularly during the holidays, until the Canada Post strike shut it all down last year. I am a little scarred from that experience, and have been frantically writing out my cards in order to get them into the mail, just in case the current rotating strikes turn into a full-blown one.

On a recent episode of The Girl Next Door podcast, one of the hosts talked about her secret fear of getting a paper cut on her eye, and while I don’t share that particular worry, I am always concerned that I’m going to get one on my tongue while licking envelopes. Anyway.

I loved pen pals when I was younger and it’s a thrill now to have my own grown-up ones. Sometimes it’s more than a postcard or a note; last week I received a parcel from my friend Lisa (HI LISA).

Imagine my surprise when it contained a SIGNED copy of Wreck! I almost fainted. Lisa! Talked to Catherine Newman! And she signed a book just for ME! I could die. Have I read it yet? No, because I still have eleven library books that need reading. But I cannot WAIT. Thanks Lisa!

Outfit of the Month

In the spirit of shopping my closet, everything in this outfit is at least seven years old, with the exception of the jeans. It’s a whole thing with Jean. Please don’t make me relive my Jeans Crisis.

The lined coat is from lululemon, circa 2013, and the sweater is from the same place but a few years later. The boots are lightly lined and perfect for this weather right now – not too warm, but warm enough.

What are you doing to stave off the Novemberies? I know my dear friend Michelle (HI MICHELLE) is celebrating Gnomevember, but I would posit that every month is Gnomevember in the Boyhouse. Tell me all your Favourites this month, I would love to hear them. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Not Quite In Style Edition

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One of the best things about aging is that I no longer care about being in style. I said this to my husband, who vehemently disagreed that this was the case, leading to an involved conversation about semantics. I maintain that having personal style and caring about how a person presents oneself is very different from being in style. I care very much about my own personal style, but as far as trends are concerned, I’m indifferent.

I’m sliding towards my fiftieth birthday not knowing celebrity gossip or who even the young celebrities are these days; my only exposure to new music is from Peloton pop rides, and I am solidly ensconced in styles that I like without regards to current trends. I can really, really relate to women who were wearing their hair feathered or mulleted in the late nineties, with frosted lipstick and blue eyeshadow. I hope I’m not there.

I think there is something to the idea that later in life a woman adopts a hairstyle that harkens back to her favourite time of life. I once mentioned to a hair stylist that I worried I was in a hair rut, always wanting the same old thing, and she said Well, look at Barbra Streisand! She’s had the same hairstyle for years, and she looks great. I was unsure of how I felt, being compared to septugenarian Babs, since I was about thirty-four at that time, but I embrace the comment in the spirit in which it was intended.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Not Quite In Style Edition

Forever In Blue Jeans

Up until last week, I would have said that the current, very in vogue style of barrel or wide leg jeans was only for the very young, but then my gorgeous friend Carolyn (HI CAROLYN) swanned into book club on Thursday wearing a pair and looking like a total fox, and so I stand corrected.

The key to styling those jeans, I think, is to counterbalance the voluminous legs with a crop top, a fitted, tucked-in tee, or a bodysuit, and to accessorize with a wide belt. Unfortunately for me, I am reluctant to call attention to my own personal belt area, and so this is a fashion I am not going to participate in.

I think the most universally flattering cut of jeans is the flare or boot cut with a nice chunky heel, but heels are not part of my daily life anymore, and so I will also sadly pass on this style as well. I find I look frumpy in a flare with flats, what can I say. Fortunately, I am in the I don’t give a fuck stage of fashion, and so I still embrace the wildly-out-of-style skinny jeans. What other pant can you wear tall boots with? I also appreciate that skinny jeans go well with long tops, which covers the exact spot I wish to cover up, namely my tum-tum.

My one concession to wide leg jeans is a meet-you-in-the-middle style, the boyfriend jean. I like them cuffed with ankle boots, or little flats in the summer.

Here’s a hot tip for all my fellow Canadians: go to Mark’s, as in the former Work Wearhouse. They have a great selection of Silver jeans, which are in my mind the best brand around. Silver jeans have so much stretch without getting stretched out, which is a remarkable feature for denim. They have so many different styles and cuts, and almost always there is some kind of BOGO deal happening at Mark’s. I’m not sponsored by Mark’s! I just love that store.

These Boots Were Made For Walking

Speaking of Mark’s, my younger son just bought his first pair of steel-toed boots. According to his somewhat-trend-aware brother, my son is in the height of fashion: the aforementioned boots are Timberlands, albeit the tan colour is now splattered with oil and grease. I also have Timberland boots – from Mark’s! – which look nice, Mom, but they aren’t exactly in style. Well, no, mine are a) black, not tan, and b) winter boots. They might not be the height of fashion, but I still think they are cute, and they are perfect for our long morning walks.

Cute, comfortable, grippy, warm, and waterproof, what more does one want from winter walking boots?

Entering My Elastic Waist Era

Many years ago, I was laughing at the Sears catalogue that described a particular style of pants as “pull on pants.” Aren’t we all pulling on our pants? Well, yes. Pull on pants became code for any clothing associated with the elderly, but just like everything else I have looked at judgmentally in my life, it has come back to haunt me. Here I am, pulling on elastic waist pants and loving them.

I bought these from Lululemon and they are quite honestly the most comfortable pants I have ever worn. I’m not even sure how to describe them: like sweatpants that look like actual dress pants would be the closest I can come. I think these would be the perfect travel pants; comfortable enough to wear on the plane, wrinkle-resistant and honestly, pretty cute. I wouldn’t showcase the elastic waist, but I wouldn’t be showcasing my waist anyway.

Maybe She’s Born With It

I have long been a proponent of drugstore makeup; in my mind Maybelline’s Surreal Falsies is the single greatest mascara ever invented, and I love that brand’s Ultimatte lipstick. I am newly a convert to another lip colour, thanks to my friend Sarah (HI SARAH), who brought Super Stay Ink Crayon Lipstick to my attention. Friends, this is a truly remarkable product.

The colour stays on for hours, HOURS, even after eating and drinking and even dabbing one’s mouth with one’s napkin. I’m not sure how it stays on after sexytimes, but I’m guessing it performs in that area as well.

It’s Asparagus Season, Motherfuckers

I am so excited that asparagus is in season and, relatively speaking, less expensive than other produce right now. “Less expensive” is a very general descriptor and in the not-so-distant past would have meant half the price that I’m paying now. However, in season is in season, and we are consuming the hell out of asparagus right now.

Something occurred to me the other day: when I was a kid we never had out-of-season produce. Whether that was because it was prohibitively expensive or just not available in the 80s, we would have never had, for example, strawberries in January. I wonder if we are starting to move in that direction now. In any case, we are moving into Garden Season, which is my favourite season! In the next few weeks I’ll be planting some hardy greens, and I cannot wait to be harvesting my own produce. Hopefully I’ll finish the grated zucchini I have in the freezer before zucchini season begins again.

Chocolate zucchini bread, original recipe from the Lutheran Ladies’ Family Favourites. Much better than their weird section on casseroles and meat salads. I still have a drawer full of zucchini.

Outfit of the Month

Earlier this month the girls and I went to see a string quartet perform ABBA songs, and we thought it would be fun to dress up in our most disco wear. When this conversation first came up I was excited, and then thought wait, I don’t HAVE any disco wear. Then I remembered the dress I wore for my husband’s retirement dinner, paired it with my dressiest boots, and headed out on the town.

To be totally honest I was worried the dress would no longer fit, but happily that wasn’t the case!

March is an exciting month for us, what with birthdays and our anniversary and the anticipation of Garden Season; this weekend my husband and I are going to belatedly go on a date – A DATE! – for our anniversary, which is going to be a Favourite Thing for sure. Did you have some Favourites this month? Tell me everything. xo

Reseating The Theatre

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I listen to a lot of podcasts; if those podcasts were audiobooks I’d probably be able to increase my Yearly Books Read by at least 100. Alas, they are not! I walk a lot and also do a lot of boring household things, like laundry and chopping vegetables, and podcasts entertain me while I do that. One of my favourites is Were You Raised By Wolves, and a couple of years ago it introduced me to the concept of Reseating The Theatre.

The idea is this: your life is a theatre, and everyone in your life is somewhere in the theatre and its vicinity. You are the star, and you are on stage. Perhaps there are one or two other people onstage with you, but perhaps not. There are a few people who are backstage, and then there are a few people in the front row; those people are the most important in your life. There are people in the orchestra and people in the mezzanine. Some people are in the balconies, and maybe there are a few balcony tiers. Some people are wandering around in the lobby and still others are not allowed in the theatre at all.

The brilliance to this is that not everyone gets full access to the show that is your life; of course they don’t, imagine how exhausting that would be. But the theatre metaphor is perfect because it allows me to prioritize my time and energy; the people in the front rows and backstage are my ride-or-dies, and I give those relationships a lot. I get a lot out of them too. People in the mezzanine and balconies are welcomed and even cherished in my life, but they get less personal attention, and some people are more like friendly acquaintances who I’d happily chat with, but who I wouldn’t be necessarily hanging out with.

I like to think that everyone has a theatre, and just like they have a seat in my theatre, I am seated in theirs. An important thing to note in this metaphor is that circumstances can change and people can be reseated.

I truly believe in the old saying about friends coming in to your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. How this relates to the theatre is that seasons change, and people can move from the balcony to the orchestra, or from the front row to backstage, or from the mezzanine to the lobby, depending on the circumstances. If I realize that I have been reseated in someone’s theatre, and not in a growing in importance kind of way, then I can feel free to move them back in mine, and not feel obligated to expend more energy.

It’s so important to meet people where they are in life, but also to put them where they need to be.

Recently Elisabeth asked (HI ELISABETH) what personality trait do you absolutely require in a friend? This question, frankly, stumped me, probably because I have a very wide and flexible definition of the word friend. The people backstage are obviously my closest friends and confidantes, but I also consider the people on the third tier balcony to be friends, just in a less intense way. There are friends that I do fun activities with, friends I feel comfortable travelling with, friends that I read with and talk with about books, friends that just sit and talk and listen as I pour my heart out. Some friends check all those boxes, some check just one. There’s room for everyone in the theatre, is what I’m saying, but obviously not everyone can be everything.

I have a few lifelong friends (HI TARA, HI ELISE), women who have known me since my very awkward early teens, and even earlier, and who have loved me this whole time. That’s really saying something! I mean, I went through a period of obsession with Jim Morrison, who had been dead for decades by that time. Also, ew. On the flip side, I have some friends who I have known only a short time, but they have quickly moved from mezzanine to the front rows; these are women I love to spend precious time with. Some previously close friends have slowly lost touch with me over the past couple of years, and so I have sadly moved them back in my theatre. Very, very occasionally, I will find myself no longer with anything in common with a person, or at a place in which I find myself to be in constant disagreement with every decision that person makes, when that person is just too toxic and too difficult. That situation requires a move to the lobby, or maybe even outside the theatre.

I am very grateful for the friends who do not let distance stand in the way of our relationships. I can think of at least four friends who live far away but who I consider to have front row seats. One of my dearest friends, Hannah (HI HANNAH) could not live farther away from me without leaving the country or falling into the ocean, and yet we chat several times a week. My friend Nicole (HI NICOLE) has never failed to keep our monthly friend date since we started them in January 2018; since I moved we call each other every month. Allison (HI ALLISON) lives in Ottawa but when I saw her last spring for the first time since 2014, it was like no time had passed. And Jen (HI JEN) will be sipping poolside margaritas with me next week; she is a sister to me, except that we never fight.

All of these friends are so different, but the common thread is that they always have time for me, they always are supportive and loving, and I always know where I stand with them. They always make me feel uplifted and fill me with positive energy.

Speaking of being uplifted and filled with positive energy, I hope you all had wonderful Galentine’s and Valentine’s Days! Galentine’s for me was such a special day: the morning with The Squad, an afternoon writing date with Laura (HI LAURA), and an evening at the theatre with my relatively new, but already very dear, friend Sandi (HI SANDI). Look at this incredible spread of goodies! It just doesn’t get any better than that.

My dear friend Sammi (HI SAMMI) made this cake. You know how I feel about cake!

I did make my own cake for my Valentine and Valentine-adjacent sons, and also for myself, because we all need more heart-shaped cakes in our lives.

Weekly Reading

It was a reread week around here!

The Husband’s Secret. This was the first of Moriarty’s books I had read, back in 2017. It got me hooked on her style – twists and turns and very complicated characters. I loved it in 2017 and I loved it now, this story of secrets and choices and how they affect our lives. It’s such an interesting thing to think about: if you made a different life choice, where would you be right now? Who would be around you? It’s fascinating and so well written; it’s an unputdownable read.

The Burgess Boys. This was historically my least-favourite Strout – the bar is high, though! – but I thought I would reread it, after Bob Burgess featured so heavily in the new, and much-loved-by-me, Tell Me Everything. I liked it so much more on the reread, although it would still rank last in all the Strouts. It is a very bleak and grim story, and all the characters are either absolutely abhorrent or really pathetic. But I did find it to be a good reread and things resonated with me differently this time around, particularly the character of Helen, who is mourning her empty nest. (hashtag: landslide, relatable). I think that the story line, which centres around what appears to be a hate crime but might just be a crime of stupidity, is absolutely relevant today, with its theme of xenophobia and distrust of immigrants and different cultures.

It snowed this weekend! We have had so little snow this year that it is remarkable and exciting when it happens. It snowed just in time for me to leave it! I am off on a little adventure that will feature sunshine, beaches, and a whole lot of mango margaritas. I’ll see you all on the other side; take care of yourselves. xo

Cold, Cold, Cold, Warmer, HOT

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Cold As Ice

We are in the midst of a cold snap around here, but I use that term very loosely. It’s more “cold” than COLD, or even Cold, but still, it’s the most winter we’ve had all year. I took the opportunity to look out my snow pants and heated mittens, and I’m winning all the style awards on our daily walks. It’s honestly a bit of overkill for these cold-but-not-COLD temperatures, and by the end of our walk I’m a little sweaty.

My creativity has taken a huge hit this week; I have been unable to write anything that I would want anyone to read. Someone suggested it’s the weather, but I think it’s directly related to the torrential volume of grim and terrifying news. I have broken my own rules for news and media consumption, and have succumbed more than once to doomscrolling, leading to higher than normal screen time and a feeling of complete emotional depletion. But we are in a fresh new week, the perfect time for a fresh new start; I am re-implementing my boundaries and refreshing my Nolite te Bastardes Carborundorum attitude.

Cold Hearted Snake

We are also in a fresh new lunar year, and I recently learned about Ben Ming Nian, which is when it is the year of your own Chinese zodiac sign. I would have thought that this would be a very lucky thing, but it turns out it is not; the superstition is that people in their zodiac year are offending the God of Age, Tai Sui, and will therefore have a year of challenges and bad luck. My husband is a Snake, and so I guess he will have to watch out – although, according to the Chinese zodiac, the Snake is the second-luckiest sign, and so it might all just work out evenly.

As an aside, the first-luckiest sign is that of the Dragon, and apparently there is a mini baby boom in China during that zodiac year. It reminded me of when I was in prenatal class and I learned that there was a mini baby boom every November due to Valentines-related sexytimes, and, in Calgary specifically, one in late March/ early April. The latter correlated to wild Calgary Stampede-related sex which – and I’m sorry, because I know my mom and possibly Aunty C are reading this – was the case for my firstborn. My second born was in September, which, well, you can do the math. Let’s just call it a visit from Santa. Interestingly enough, the divorce rate also spiked after Stampede, for different, but related, reasons.

But back to the subject at hand. After learning about Ben Ming Nian, I looked up the Year of the Rabbit, which is my sign. The last one was 2023, which was indeed a year of great challenge for me! The others were 2011, 1999, and 1987, and I definitely remember challenges in all those years. Of course, I’m also a person who related completely to a story about an ill woman who got magically better after taking placebos, even AFTER she was told they were placebos. The placebo effect is my entire personality some days.

Recently Suzanne (HI SUZANNE) asked how do you feel about astrology and horoscopes? I have never really connected with the Chinese zodiac, and I think horoscopes, as seen in the newspapers or women’s weekly magazines, are silly and irrelevant, but I have always strongly believed in astrological signs and the zodiac. I would have been great in the 70s dating scene. As soon as I know someone’s birthday I feel like I know all about them. Oh, I’ll say sagely, You’re a Pisces. Oh, that makes so much sense. I’m not saying I wouldn’t have married my husband if his sign was incompatible with mine, but I’m not NOT saying that, either. More likely we would have never dated, had he not been a compatible sign, because yes, I am that person. Listen, a Taurus wants what a Taurus wants, and I am not going to waste my time with someone who does not appreciate my bull-like personality and love of luxury.

This Leaves Me Cold

Speaking of sexy compatibility, I was so excited to see that Bad on Paper released their annual Obscure Erotica episode in honour of Valentines’ Day. Some of you may remember that this podcast introduced me to the wild world of weird erotica, featuring everything from Clippy, of Microsoft Office fame, to the ghost of Abraham Lincoln. I personally have read about sex with Santa Claus, balloon animals, and a sentient door. So I was interested to hear what had been chosen on the podcast, and I will tell you right now: no. NO. No no no, things have officially gone too far in the obscure erotica world.

One of the featured books was called The Devilled Egg Made Me Do It, which, predictably, explored sex with a giant sentient egg. This egg, named Damien – he’s devilled, after all – has horns, chive-like body hair, and a tail that is actually anal beads. Just the words “anal” and “beads” together make me immediately and inadvertently Kegel. To say that I was disturbed even listening to this discussion would be a vast understatement. I was amused that the protagonist’s name was Shelly, but not amused enough to read this book.

The other host, though. I feel disappointed in her beyond all imagining. The book she chose was called Garden Gnome Sex Party and I need not say more. IS NOTHING SACRED? There were hats involved, that’s all I’m going to say. This was obviously upsetting to a gnome aficionado like myself, although it did remind me of a very funny Gravity Falls episode, in which everyone thinks Mabel’s boyfriend is a vampire, and it turns out he is just a tall pile of gnomes with a costume over top.

Since these writers utilize pseudonyms, they could be amongst us right now. I’m just going to say it: if I hear anything, ANYTHING, about my beloved Salvadore and friends being written about in an untoward way, there will be hell to pay.

Warming My Heart

Let’s shift gears from (very weird) Valentines to Galentines! The squad came over, plus a few new ladies, and it was so much fun. I am so grateful to be around such a fabulous group of women.

Elisabeth (HI ELISABETH) has been encouraging everyone to find joy in gratitude this month (FIG!) but honestly, I need no encouragement. I’m HERE for the gratitude fest, is what I’m saying, and right now I am so very grateful that I have this wonderful group of friends. I’ve lived here for just over a year and a half now, and I will never not feel incredibly lucky that I have the Golden Gals Squad surrounding me. I’m also grateful for Canadian rose from my favourite Vineland Estates, and for chocolate.

I’m also grateful for cold and wintry Saturday afternoons and that Engie’s Cool Blogger’s Book Club (HI ENGIE) chose The Blue Castle, by one of my favourite childhood authors.

Weekly Reading

What else have I been reading, other than The Blue Castle? Well, I am proud to say that I DNFed a book I was not enjoying: Stanley Tucci’s Taste, which is a memoir through food. There was just too much meat and seafood descriptions, so I abandoned ship. Fortunately I had some good books this week:

The Husbands. This was such a fun and original book; it’s the story of a woman who comes home after a night with friends to discover that not only is she married, but she has been for years. After her husband goes up to the attic to fetch something, a different husband comes down. And so it goes, every time a husband goes to the attic a new one is in her life, and her life itself is new. It was an absolute delight to read this; I’m not usually one to enjoy magic or alternate universes, but this one was so fun and the ending was perfection. Big thanks to Suzanne and Lisa (HI SUZANNE HI LISA) who assured non-magic-loving me that I would love this, despite the premise. I did!

Summer Fridays. I was 24 in 1999, which is the same as our protagonist in this book – don’t you love when that happens? This lovely, fun, nostalgic book takes place in a hot New York City summer, and there are so many city-related details. A friendship is started between a young woman and her fiance’s (very close) colleague’s boyfriend (did you get that? I had to think for a minute). That friendship turns to something else, but this is not just a straightforward love story because, well, she’s engaged. I really enjoyed this book, it was a perfect read for this little cold snap we are having. It’s light, full of fun nostalgic details (“you’ve got mail!”) and startlingly sensitive for a book that’s essentially about infidelity. Thanks AGAIN to Lisa for the recommendation, is this the Lisa Show, maybe it is! (HI LISA)

No One Can Pronounce My Name. I expected to enjoy this book about the immigrant experience, queerness, friendship, and finding your people in the unlikeliest of places, but I did not. I should have DNFed! You win some, you lose some.

On our walk on Saturday, Rex and I came across a couple of mating raccoons. It was extremely disturbing, to say the least, as Rex barked and barked at what he must have assumed was a two-headed animal, while the male raccoon made eye contact with me as he humped away. I guess love is in the air in the animal kingdom too. I hope you have a week filled with chocolates, hearts, rose, and no wild animal sex shows. Unless you like that, in which case, who am I to judge? xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Jan Stan Edition

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I asked my son if people still used the word “stan,” and he said what do you mean, like the Stan countries? When I explained that no, I wasn’t talking about the Central and South Asian, mainly former Soviet countries, I was talking about describing how I feel about things I like, he tilted his head. I don’t think people your age say it, probably. Excuse me? I was listening to Stan before you were BORN. I am TAKING BACK the Stan.

I know January has been a rough, grim, and frankly terrifying month, on the international front particularly, but you know me:

And to that end, there are many things I found I could Stan in the month of Jan. I would like to go on record to say that January sunsets are truly things of beauty, and even though we still haven’t made it to 5:00 yet – tonight’s sunset is at 4:48 – there is more and more daylight and clear skies every day.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Jan Stan Edition

If I Could Turn Back Time

Where have the Cerave products been all my life? I know where they have been, inexpensively hanging out in the drugstore, so I suppose the real question is WHY haven’t I used them before now? A few months ago my skin was feeling so tight and dry with the change in seasons, and I bought this moisturizer for my first morning ablutions:

It’s revolutionary! I put it on first thing in the morning after washing my face; it’s much thicker than what I would usually use on my face, but it absorbs by the time I’ve brushed my teeth. In the summer I prefer a much higher SPF but I think 30 is perfectly fine for a) winter, b) walking in partial darkness, and c) the cloudiness that is typical of winters here.

I also purchased this product, allegedly a “serum,” but which seems more like a lotion:

I put it on before my Neutrogena retinol night cream, which leads to a LOT of tingling, but I think it actually does make my skin brighter and softer and maybe – MAYBE – even lessens the look of wrinkles. Does it turn back time? Absolutely not, but I think that’s just too tall an order for any kind of topical treatment, particularly one for less than $20 at the drugstore.

Bundt and Hustle

As I have mentioned before, I have been diligently working my way through my friend Julie’s cake cookbook (HI JULIE) since I bought it in 2022. I ran into a roadblock, though, because a number of recipes call for a Bundt pan, which I did not have until this Christmas, when my son gifted me one. This was along with a copy of Commonwealth, which I mention only because it otherwise sounds like he gave himself a Christmas gift under the guise of generosity. Also, I wanted both of those things. In any case, I made Julie’s Family’s Chocolate Cake, and instead of the ganache called for, topped it with a cream cheese frosting in order to use up the last of the four pack of Costco cream cheese I had purchased for a friend’s birthday carrot cake.

I foresee many Bundt cakes in our future. I have the pan, nothing can stop me now!

Snow Much Fun

It’s so strange to me to live in a place where in January there is next to no snow on the ground. Yes, it has snowed. But each snowfall was accompanied by a melt within a day or two. Someone recently informed me that one year it snowed here in December and that snow was still on the ground at the end of January, and my response was one of befuddlement. This was not as winterly impressive as that person thought. I’m from Calgary? Sometimes the snow from October lasts until May? But in any case there is no snow here in the valley, and so my husband and I have been occasionally driving up into the mountains to do some snowshoeing.

I love snowshoeing so much. What a great way to experience the winter. It’s fantastic exercise that takes in the beauty of nature, and it also makes me feel Wholesomely Canadian.

There is also no falling, and after I bruised my tailbone last year cross-country skiing, I am a big fan of staying upright in wintry conditions.

I Understand You Completely

I don’t know what is going on lately, but there seems to be an explosion of Pride and Prejudice merch available, and I am here for it. Before Christmas I was shopping at Indigo and although I most certainly did not need to buy myself anything, let alone another mug, I could not help myself.

Not to get all snobby and pedantic, but this delights me on so many levels. A regular, non-Jane-Austen-stan might think oh yes, there IS no enjoyment like reading and yes, we all feel that way. But it’s much funnier on a deeper level. The quote actually belongs to Miss Caroline Bingley, who is ostentatiously picking up a tome of a book in order to impress Mr Darcy. After flipping a few pages she abandons the book for other, more enjoyable pursuits. It’s a deep cut, and it makes me absolutely delighted every time I use it.

While purchasing new clothes, I came across a whole lot of Pride and Prejudice-themed items, and I immediately added to cart this sweatshirt, purchased two sizes larger than normal in order to be as cozy and comfy as possible.

I had to explain the significance of Most Ardently to my husband and son, who looked at me like Shrek and Donkey when they first hear the song Duloc Is A Happy Place. They much preferred my tee that the three of them bought me several Christmases ago:

Poor maligned Lydia. She’s only trying to exercise the only economic power women had back then. Also, we were all fifteen once, and I’m sure if I lived in that era my head would also have been turned by a red coat, even if I am a Charlotte Lucas at heart.

Paint It Black

Have I mentioned lately how much I love my girlfriends here? I adore The Golden Gals Squad; they are always up for something fun, and to that end my friend Sandi (HI SANDI) booked us in for a paint night at a local restaurant.

Credit for the above goes to my friend Sara (HI SARA), and honestly, she saw me. I was objectively the worst painter in the group by a long shot. I was there for the vibes and the hysterical laughing.

My husband, of Supportive King fame, said wow, it’s so much better than I thought it would be! I mean, me too? But the bar was pretty low. Also I’m not sure what he thought it would look like, but probably he assumed it would be tear-stained. Frankly, it looked nothing at all like the demonstration piece – for one thing, there is supposed to be a stag involved but I know my where my artistic limitations lie – but it wasn’t like I was planning on displaying this anywhere in my home anyway. I’m not Botticelli, people! This isn’t the Birth of Venus! It’s just a bunch of apparently dancing trees in a winterscape. Happy little trees! Let’s have a moment of silence for Bob Ross.

Outfit of the Month

This month’s outfit has a nice mix of old, new, and medium pieces. The polka dot tank and long-sleeve tee date from around 2017, the jeans are new, obviously, and nicely stretchy, and the cozy long sweater was purchased sometime during the pandemic. I don’t know when, as all those years blur together and what is time anyway, but I do like the sweater. It’s a perfect layer for an occasionally hot-flashy woman like myself in the dead of January, because it’s easy to slip off.

A few years ago I saw a meme about Decorative Gord Season, the Canadian version, which included a photo of the Barenaked Ladies’ Gordon album, Gordie Howe, Gord Downey, and, of course, Gordon Lightfoot. These days around 4:48 pm I start humming Sundown, which is an honourary favourite thing this month.

I know there is a lot to be glum about right now, and I personally have to completely skip over the news and even the headlines, lest I spiral into complete and utter despair. But I hope you can find a lot of beautiful things in your own little world, and I hope you found some this January. xo

You Can Find Me…

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In Da Club

I am thrilled at the response to my yoga post! Don’t you just love the thought that we are all in our own separate lives, but yet together? I like to imagine you all just adding touches of loving-kindness and asana throughout your day. I think we could have a monthly check-in, with perhaps a mantra or featured pose (asana to do in your kitchen while you wait for the oven to heat up!) or a very short video. In early days of the pandemic, I created a series of gentle yoga videos specifically for my students as a stop-gap measure as we all tried to figure out the zoom life; the quality is pretty bad, and it was never meant for a wider audience, but perhaps someone will find them useful. At the very least, you can see what parts of my Calgary house looked like. Full disclosure: I have not rewatched these as they are a bit triggering, as it were, remembering the circumstances that led me to making yoga videos in whatever space in my house was unoccupied for whatever time I could manage.

If You Get Caught Between The Moon and The Walking Path

The Okanagan valley where I live is famously overcast in winter; this helps keep the temperatures mild and windless, and to me, that is a pretty sweet tradeoff. It does get gloomy though, and often it’s too cloudy to see the astronomical wonders in the sky. Over the last week, though, the clouds have been lifting, right in time to view the Wolf Moon.

On my early morning walk with Rex, I felt like I was inhabiting a Mary Oliver poem as the Wolf Moon fell on my right and the sun rose on my left.

The sun sets close to 4:30 now, which is a solid half hour later than a month ago. I’ve been known to suddenly scream at everyone in the house to look outside, oh my god, look outside, so I am one step closer to my Life Goal of Becoming Judy.

And look at this sunrise! I truly AM living in a Mary Oliver poem. No joke, Canada geese have been flying around me on every walk. WILD GEESE. I cannot make this up.

Please Please Wait A Minute Mr Postman

When we went to Italy, Rex went on his own little vacation to the pet resort. It seems like it was a three week bender. He came back with an eye infection, an ear infection, lice, and an extra two and a half kilograms. His collar was partially shredded and his license tag was missing. Wasn’t that a party…look at the mess I’m in! We should all have such a good time.

It was great timing, though, because I had been meaning to get him a nicer collar, and so I ordered one from Etsy as a Christmas gift, not that he knows what Christmas is or, more accurately, every day is Christmas for him. The Etsy shop MAILED it, even though the postal strike was already on, and so it was stuck in the US lo these many weeks. It finally arrived this week and I think he looks pretty sharp.

December felt very strange with zero holiday cards in the mail; I was a little blue about it but my husband assured me that I would be very excited when the mail started moving again. He was right; who knew holiday cards in January would be exactly what I needed? The mail is exciting again!

Also exciting was my package from Allison, who was my Secret SANta (HI ALLISON)! Allison and I have been friends for about fifteen years, and boy, does she know what I like. Look at this box of treasures!

Every single thing was a complete delight! Fuzzy socks and lotion, chocolates and candies, a bookmark and a gnome!

A gnome cross-stitch card? Omg! Thanks Allison!

Weekly Reading

The Body. A few years ago my friend Leanne (HI LEANNE) introduced me to the Bill Bryson Theory of Diminishing Returns that states that the first Bill Bryson book that you read – any of his vast collection – will be completely and utterly fascinating, and will cause you to excitedly read more and more. The next book – no matter which book – will be slightly less fascinating, and subsequent books will decrease in delight as you go along. I found this to be very true, abandoning the author altogether after Notes From A Small Island. But I saw The Body displayed at my local library; it was the very first Bill Bryson book I read, in 2021, and I wondered if it would be subject to the law of diminishing returns or if it would be as fascinating as when I first read it. Friends, it was the latter. It’s an absolutely incredible study of the human body and its functions and foibles. Now, I will say if you are squeamish at all, or if you even slightly veer to hypochondria or germaphobia, then you should probably give it a pass. I fortunately remembered the horror that was the breast cancer section and the description of the first mastectomies, and so I quickly skipped over that section this time around. Sadly, I did NOT remember the lobotomy section and read it again, which led to the same nightmares I had the first time around. Still, an excellent read, even if I did re-learn that “vagina” comes from the Latin word for scabbard, which, really? Can we have NOTHING for ourselves? It’s bad enough that until very recently clinical trials excluded women on the basis of their pesky old Aunt Flo, which led to inefficacies and sometimes toxic overdoses of prescription drugs for the female body, it’s bad enough that women are constantly misdiagnosed for heart attacks as we present differently from men, it’s bad enough that menopause is only recently being studied and that for hundreds of years women died en masse during childbirth not because of the birthing itself but because of puerperal fever brought on by MALE doctors NOT WASHING THEIR GODDAMN HANDS. We can’t even have that most female of body parts named in a way that isn’t in reference to the man and his MIGHTY SWORD? God, I could flip over a table and scream into the void. TAKE BACK THE VAGINA, LADIES! But back to the book. Modern medicine and everything we know about the body can be attributed to a) dogged, tireless, and often personally hazardous work by scientists, researchers, virologists, and other medical professionals, b) wild accidents, and c) absolutely atrocious and inhumane experimentation on people by Germany and Japan during World War II. A fascinating, if sobering, read. Also? Wash your hands! It’s the single most powerful way to stop disease, not just childbed fever, but almost all disease, including those considered airborne. The description of how a cold virus ends up everywhere is pretty disgusting and I am NOT going to think about it for one minute longer. Pardon me while I go wash my hands.

Don’t Forget To Write. When I was mired in emotional instability brought on by the beautiful but haunting Moon Road, my friend Hannah (HI HANNAH) suggested this as an antidote. It’s just fun; a story about a young woman in 1960 who gets caught making out with the rabbi’s son and gets sent to live with her great-aunt for the summer. This great-aunt just happens to be a matchmaker, and capers ensue! Sassy comebacks abound! There was a surprise ending that really was a surprise – I usually can see these things coming but I did not. Is it believable? Absolutely not! But it’s a perfect diversion from life.

Home Stretch. The day before a wedding, in small town Ireland, there is a terrible accident that kills three people – including the bride and groom – and seriously injures another. Two others are able to walk away, one of them being the driver, whose life in this small town is now ruined. This book is a perfect example of how to write compelling character-driven prose. Secrets abound and while some can be guessed at, the reader is compelled to keep going; it’s an un-put-down-able book that spans 1987 to 2019, from Ireland to England to New York City and back again. It’s a great story of choices, secret lives, and redemption. Thanks to Lisa (HI LISA) for this recommendation!

I hope you all have a beautiful week filled with fun mail, pretty skies, and, of course, yoga moments! xo

Holiday 2024 Roundup and Reading

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I am a person who derives a lot of energy from the idea of a Fresh Start, and it doesn’t even have to be anything as significant as a new year. It could be a new month, a new week, a new day; even a new lipstick or pair of panties will signify a Fresh New Start, and I will be energized at the thought. A new era is upon us, I’ll think on a random Tuesday, Today is where your book begins, the rest is still unwritten, I’ll think while applying a new shade of Maybelline Ultimatte.

And so it was that I found myself de-Christmassing and deep cleaning the house for many hours yesterday. I don’t know when exactly I started this routine on New Year’s Day, but it does feel like the Festive Season is officially over for me, and so all signs of it are now packed away until November.

Half of the holiday season was marked by a completely empty nest, as the boys went on a road trip last Saturday to visit some friends; they are returning tonight and I can hardly wait. Recently Kamryn (HI KAMRYN) asked How are you managing adult children, how do you set boundaries, how often do you communicate? Well! It’s a New Era indeed. We were all having dinner the night before they left for their trip, and Landslide came on the playlist. My husband looked at me for a moment, and then said “Maybe we should put on a different playlist when they’re gone.”

When they were younger, any time we reached a new era I would think I’ve been afraid of changing because I’ve built my life around you and then my eyes would well up and threaten to spill over; one would think that I would be a complete mess these days, particularly over the holidays when they are not here. In a completely unexpected turn of events, I am not a mess at all. Or much of one.

No one is more surprised than me, honestly, but I really love having adult children, and I only get happy nostalgic feelings when something like this reminds me of what the holidays used to be. Also, a huge upside of an empty nest means that I can really put that Jimmy Buffett song into action: why don’t we get drunk and screw?

I mean, not every day, but it’s nice that the option is there.

Back to the topic at hand, for me the key to a good relationship with my sons is the ability to step back and trust that they will make good decisions, and if they make mistakes, to trust that they will fix them and learn from them, or live with them. This isn’t always easy, of course. The other key is to keep open communication and to keep my judgements to myself. I never want to put guilt trips on my kids or to make them feel badly about themselves, and so unless I am specifically asked, I don’t offer unsolicited opinions. This is also not always easy! Particularly when they are going on an eight hour road trip through the mountains, and it’s snowing and raining the entire way, just as a small example.

In terms of boundaries and communication, one of my sons does still live with us, so I talk to him every day. I text with the other one a few times a week, and I generally see him weekly when he comes home to do his laundry and to share in our big Sunday dinner. I am not an overbearing type, so I step back and let the communication flow in a way that makes sense. The exception to this is when they are, you know, driving in winter conditions for eight hours, then I not only ask for updates but I also check where they are via location tracking, which is something I do NOT do normally.

When my kids were very small, I came across Kahlil Gibran’s poem On Children, which starts Your children are not your children and continues You may give them your love but not your thoughts, for they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, for their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams. I have kept that in my mind ever since, and I try to remember that they are their own people, they are not me, they are not my chance to live a different life.

Moving on! I had a lot of downtime this holiday season, and so was able to read some good books.

The Knockout Queen. I was about halfway through the first chapter and I thought “hmm, something seems familiar.” And indeed, I had not only already read this in April 2021, but I also apparently liked it a lot since I gave it a 4.5 star rating. Yet I couldn’t remember what happened! Can I blame the pandemic? I think this was exactly after my first vax, maybe I was foggy. Even though I have a huge stack of books that I have actually not read, I decided to keep going with The Knockout Queen and I’m so glad I did. What an excellent book this was, what a statement about the nature of violence and the way we view it differently depending on if it involves a man or a woman. Rufi Thorpe is such a talented writer, and I just sank into this book and resented everything that took me away from it. It is not at all a forgettable book, so I am going to just go ahead and hope that my complete memory lapse was indeed vaccine and pandemic related.

Tell Me Everything. This book felt exactly like a love letter from Elizabeth Strout to her devoted readers. The moment I heard that she had a new book, and that book involved both Lucy Barton AND Olive Kitteridge, I put it on my Christmas wish list and mentioned it approximately ten times a week. Well, Santa did bring it for me and it did not disappoint! Not only are Lucy and Olive central to the story, but there are characters from every single one of her books, even the more obscure Abide With Me, even her debut Amy and Isabelle. I can imagine a scenario in which someone who HASN’T read Elizabeth Strout’s works obsessively might be looking askance at this book, like “who are these people and why are they all together” but OH, for us fans, oh, it is wonderful. I loved every single vignette, every single moment, every single slice of little lives. The book addresses all the unrecorded lives of everyone surrounding us, and you KNOW that is my favourite thing. I love thinking about how extraordinary all of our ordinary lives are, and this book just hit perfectly. 

Love Your Life. And now for something different! Listen. If you pick up a Sophie Kinsella book, you should expect a Sophie Kinsella book. What can I say, the woman sticks with what works, and in this case it’s an Opposites Attract-type rom-com. It’s fluffy and silly but also fun, let’s not overthink things here. Two people meet on what sounds like the weirdest writing retreat ever, where everyone has fake names and are not allowed to divulge any personal information to each other. Wouldn’t you know it, these two people immediately start boning and fall instantly – INSTANTLY – in love. When they get back to regular life in London, reality hits. Ava is wildly unfocused and chaotic, whereas Matt is dutifully but unhappily working for the family firm. These two characters cannot sustain the magic that they had at the weird writing resort, but a satisfying twist that has each of them adopting a little of the other’s personality makes for a happy ending. Is this realistic? Of course not, we don’t read Sophie Kinsella for realism. It’s a fun bit of escapism and was a pretty cozy holiday diversion. 

My book total for 2024 was 130, and of those 118 were women writers, 99 were fiction, 12 memoir, 18 other non-fiction, and only one book of poetry. That felt off to me but then I remembered that I spent at least nine months re-reading selections from Mary Oliver’s Devotions, but I didn’t “finish,” as it were. I don’t have any particular reading goals this year, except an evergreen one of not being afraid to DNF a book if I’m not enjoying it. Life is too short to read unsatisfying books! We will see if I keep to this goal, because I have a tendency to push to the end, just to see.

Happy New Year, friends! I hope you had a beautiful holiday season or – if you’re an Orthodox kind of person – are still having a beautiful holiday season! xo