Category Archives: Friluftsliv

It’s All Right, I Think We’re Going To Make It; 112 Weeks In

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A couple of weeks ago our neighbourhood had an outage with our internet service provider; the outage went from 10:30am to after 5:00pm. It’s really amazing how many things are attached to our internet service: TV, the landline, the Peloton. The boys came home after school and were shocked – SHOCKED – that there was no internet. What is this, the nineties? It was actually a bit of a problem since most of their homework is done online, but luckily, my son had an actual paper worksheet for his chemistry homework. My husband was in the office that day, very fortunately, and came home to immediately turn on the NFL draft. I reminded him to show gratitude to the universe that the internet was back on and he could actually watch the draft, after hours of the outage, but I don’t think he absorbed that same feeling.

Of all the things to go out – power, water, etc. – the internet is by far the easiest to deal with. It’s ingrained in our lives but it really is a luxury. However, I still had a low-level sense of worry that happens anytime I have the smallest blip in one of the many incredible services in my life: what if it NEVER comes back on. How will I file my taxes?

Luckily I had a number of podcasts downloaded, so I could listen to my Little House on the Prairie recaps without any issues. Priorities, people.

If the outage had happened this past week, however, I may not have noticed much: it’s been beautiful and I’ve been so busy outside. Oh, you guys, I have had such a good week. It’s amazing what a week of sunshine and warm weather will do for me. Am I solar powered? Maybe. In any case, we had a stretch of five glorious days, and I spent the majority of them frantically working in the yard and gardens, knowing, in the back of my mind, that the beautiful weather is fleeting and colder temperatures and precipitation, possibly of the snow variety, are right around the corner.

Which is, of course, what happened, but at least I got the back perennial beds all cleaned up and the backyard raked. The weekend was chilly, there was snow on the ground when I woke up this morning, and we have more snow flurries forecasted today, but I am unbothered because at least I had last week.

My pretty new gardening gloves that I got for my birthday, on the road to being filthy.

Soon I will be relocating Salvadore to one of my garden beds. He is still MAGICALLY moving around every night. Last week I woke up to him being engrossed in my book about tree care, written by our arbourist.

I guess he’s really interested in trees! It makes sense, he’s a woodland gnome.

My mom’s birthday is this week (HI MOM) so we celebrated on the weekend and I baked this cake:

It occurred to me that at this time last year, my sister-in-law and I had been planning a celebration for my mom’s birthday/ Mother’s Day, but Covid numbers went through the roof, we went into a lockdown, and it was a very scary time. It feels strange that was only one year ago; it feels like an age. Vaccines were just starting to be available at that time, I was teaching only on zoom, and cases were reported in the news, daily. We all waited for the daily numbers, and for me, I had hope that with the vaccine rollout, we would be THROUGH the pandemic by Christmastime.

People are really amazingly strong. I think if anyone told us what we would be going through, back in 2019, none of us would have believed it or, importantly, thought we could handle it. I think if, in May 2020, I was told that there would be fully another two years PLUS of the pandemic, but things were going to get progressively weirder, I would have just shriveled up into a little ball. But we just push through, don’t we? What are we in now, the sixth wave? And there is no way to know “daily numbers” anymore, at least not here, and even home rapid tests are less than accurate for all the new changes.

My kids mentioned that one of their friend’s dad is quite sick with Covid, so his whole family is currently staying with his grandma to allow him to isolate in their home. I said “I thought they all had it at Christmas?” and immediately the boys jumped on me. “That doesn’t MATTER, Mom! You know you can get it again, right? You can have Covid more than once!” Which, true; also, that doesn’t feel great, but at this point, what can we do? Do we just shrivel up in a ball? Or do we adjust the way we are living, and try to live our best lives in the healthiest, safest way possible?

In any case, I am glad to have celebrated my mom’s birthday with her. I have seen my mom, obviously, but this was the first time in two years I saw her for her birthday, and if there’s one thing that has come out of this pandemic, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in the – checks title – past 112 weeks, it’s to not take anything for granted or to think there’s always next time, there’s always next year. Live in the now, as Garth says to Wayne. And in the now, I’m reading a lot of books and doing a lot of gardening.

Pandemic Reading

Birth: The Surprising History of How We Are Born. When Stephany (HI STEPHANY) mentioned this book, I knew I had to read it. I’m fascinated and horrified by the history of medicine, and this history of birth, midwifery, and obstetrics is fascinating and horrifying. A few times I felt faint reading some descriptions of obstetric procedures, and frequently I found myself inadvertently Kegeling. But it’s a great read – and I’m glad I read it AFTER having babies. I really liked reading about the changes in attitudes towards birth, how they were affected by social changes, and since it was published in 2006 it ended with the attitudes I remember from my own pregnancies and births. I’m sure things have changed now too, but that ship has long left the harbour for me. Perhaps one day I’ll have daughters-in-law who might let me share their experiences, if I am very fortunate.

How To Be Fine. I am a fan of the By the Book podcast, and so I really enjoyed reading this book about the authors/ hosts and what they learned from self-help books, what they hated about self-help books, and what they wished self-help books talked about. It was published in 2020 so I would be very interested to read a book where they tackle the books they read and lived by during the pandemic. How To Be Fine In A Pandemic? That would be a fun sequel. If you like that podcast you’ll love this book.

Bright Lights, Prairie Dust. There’s a lot more to Karen Grassle than just her role as Ma Ingalls: she was a theatre actress in the 60s and has fought for women’s rights for decades. Still, it was fun to read about Little House – spoiler, Michael Landon was an asshole – and life in New York in the 60s. I didn’t love this book though; it wasn’t laid out that well and it ended abruptly. Also she struggled with alcoholism and mental illness and that is a very large part of the book – it’s a bit hard to read at times. Still, glad I read it. 

I hope you all had a lovely weekend and cheers to the week ahead! May the snow flurries be few. xo

Move Over, Sansa; 110 Weeks In

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It was only a few weeks ago that I was marvelling at all the Christmas decorations in the neighbourhood; lights and Santas and candy canes alongside the brown grass and spring bulbs. It turns out my neighbours know what’s what.

Santa’s coming! In only eight months.

Oh, you guys, we got so much snow this week; it really felt relentless. It was the kind of heavy, soft, wet snow that causes chaos on the streets and possibly heart attacks for shovellers. I went to the grocery store and passed a school bus, completely stuck in the snow, with a couple of kids inside as the driver tried to make her way out of her predicament, but only became more and more stuck. Let me tell you, as someone who has had her car stuck in the snow more than once, I felt for this driver. She kept doing the thing that feels instinctive but is the exact thing that you should absolutely not do, gunning the engine. She kept doing this, the wheels spinning and the bus becoming settled deeper into the snow. Who among us, right? Except that most of us are not doing this in a school bus with children inside. I really emphasized; if I were that driver, I would be a sobbing mess.

That wasn’t the only bus with such issues. My kids told me that there were many absences at their school, probably due to transit issues, and when they went to buy lunch, the Subway shop was closed, probably due to no employees making it to work.

Friluftsliv, right? I went for my walk and discovered that the walking paths were – not surprisingly – unplowed, but I stoically decided to soldier on. Do you want a good leg workout? Wade through eight inches of thick, heavy, wet snow.

Me: It’s just snow, it’s so pretty, it will be fun! Nature! Also me, ten minutes later: My god, what am I doing with my life.

The weather, obviously, was not conducive to outdoor running, so as the first few snowflakes fell on Friday morning, for the fourth day that week, I decided to go to the gym. This was my scene when I got home.

Do I live in Winterfell now? Am I the Queen of the North?

Did you ever watch Game of Thrones? What a crazy show that was, and how disappointing was that ending? Given the show’s general theme, I just assumed that it would end, Sopranos-style, with a blackout and everyone dying, perhaps with the world blowing up. I did not expect such a neat little package tied up with ribbons.

Back when I was watching it, I never knew what was happening. Half the time it was too violent for me to watch and so I’d cover my eyes or leave the room, and the other half, well, I just didn’t know what was going on. I mean, it is a fairly complicated show with so many characters and backstories, and so I was constantly texting my friend Hannah (HI HANNAH) with questions every thirty seconds. Who is this guy? What is with all the horses? Where did they come from. OH MY GOD HANNAH WHAT DID THEY JUST DO TO THIS GUY. Oh, he was bad? Wait, he’s the guy that raped all those women? Oh. Wait, who’s THIS guy and why can’t anyone kill him? Oh, he’s immortal. Hannah deserves a medal for patience with me – “No spoilers but, um, don’t get too attached to that character, Nicole.” – and maybe one for valor. (Wait, how did he get killed? They skinned him alive? Oh.)

One thing about a snowy, grey day is that it motivates me to get things done around the house; on Tuesday I had several phone calls to make and appointments to arrange, none of which I wanted to do, but I decided to JUST GET IT ALL DONE. What is it about making appointments that makes a person want to lie in the fetal position and cry? And yet. I was, in my humble opinion, a BOSS. I started with a phone call to the orthodontist to arrange for a new retainer for my younger son; the only time I could get in conflicted with my sons’ previously scheduled doctor appointments. No matter! A broken retainer trumps an annual checkup. I phoned the doctor and rescheduled, then, feeling like I was on a roll, made eye appointments and ordered extra contacts for my son, and then called our insurance company about some changes to our auto insurance. I felt like I was ON FIRE, checking off everything on my list.

Speaking of appointments, last Friday the boys had dental appointments, and two weeks ago I had called to confirm them. Remember my dentist and the plethora of reminders? Well, I had an email reminder AND a text reminder for one son, but not the other, so I called to confirm, to make sure they both had appointments at the same time. Perfect, everything was in order. That was fine until this week: the dentist emailed me, texted me, and – when I did not respond within ten minutes – PHONED ME to confirm Friday’s appointment. I assured them that the boys would be there as scheduled, but also? I had already confirmed two weeks ago? “Oh,” the woman on the phone said, “This wasn’t marked as confirmed.” At this point, I had, in a two week span, two emails, two texts, and a phone call, and apparently so had my husband.

I discovered that little nugget of information on the day of the appointment. I had another text, another email, AND my husband called me to say “Do the boys have a dentist appointment today? I keep getting emails.” OH MY GOD, DENTAL OFFICE. WE WILL BE THERE. Listen, I realize that people forget their appointments, the dental people have a job to do, but no one in this household has ever been late or forgotten a dental appointment. Is there no way to NOT send a dozen reminders to the households who have never been late or forgotten an appointment? No, I know there isn’t. I know there is no way but I WISH THERE WAS A WAY.

I also wish the snow would melt so I could do some work in the yard and garden, and I might just get that wish this week. Do other people constantly refresh their weather app in the hopes that it will yield a favourable forecast, or is it just me?

Pandemic Reading

No Presents Please. I really thought I would like this a lot more than I did. This is a collection of short stories, set in Mumbai, about everyday people with their everyday lives. This is normally one hundred percent my jam, and I did like some of the stories, but mostly I found them dull and unnecessarily convoluted.

What If This Were Enough. This collection of essays – about living in the present, about eschewing consumer culture, about living mindfully and fully – is thoughtful, intelligent, and nuanced. I agree almost totally with the sentiments – ALMOST, not totally, do NOT throw shade at Marie Kondo, not in my hearing – but I can’t help but feel I would have enjoyed it more if I had read it when it was published in 2018. The pandemic and age has changed my perspective, so it didn’t TOTALLY resonate with me. Most of it did, but there was a little part in me that internally rolled me eyes at times. Am I becoming a cynic in my middle age? I hope not.

The Secrets Between Us. This is the sequel to The Spaces Between Us, which I loved loved loved and raved about previously. It is a very satisfying sequel, and I was so happy to read the two so close together. It deals with women and their lot in life, friendship, hardship, choices, and connection. I didn’t love it as much as the first one, but I did love it.

I just refreshed my weather app, again, and it looks like – maybe? – it is not going to snow this week! We shall see. Have a lovely week, my friends! xo

Rituals; 109 Weeks In

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I was listening to this fantastic, new-to-me-but-well-established podcast the other day, about the importance of ritual and soulful practices in our everyday life. It got me thinking about all the little rituals I incorporate into my day, from my coffee-and-early-morning reading and writing to putting on my five different moisturizers before bedtime. Some of the little rituals came about because of the pandemic: daily inspirational reading and poetry before my morning yoga practice and my long daily walks are the two most notable ones. However, some rituals predate the pandemic by a long shot, and one of those is Sunday Dinner.

We eat dinner as a family every night, with the exception of the evenings when my younger son is at wrestling practice; those nights, it is just the three of us, and I save him a plate for when he’s home at 8:30 pm. Sunday Dinner is a different thing, though. It’s a big, semi-elaborate meal that always ends in dessert.

I cook a lot; it feels like half my life is devoted to food acquisition, preparation, and the cleanup afterwards. It can be very boring and tedious; this is why I listen to so many podcasts. But there is one thing I am never bored of, and that is making Sunday dessert. Throughout the week I bake a lot of things and I make a lot of ice cream, but I don’t partake in any of those; Sunday dessert, however, is my jam. I think about different recipes and I always get excited, choosing and then making the Dessert of the Week.

This past weekend was really fun for me, though, because we went up to my parents’ house for two nights. Not only did I not cook for two days, I also had my favourite dessert:

My birthday is coming up this week, so we had a combined birthday/ Easter celebration.

Not only did we have a wonderful dinner made by my mother with my favourite strawberry angel food cake, but we went out to dinner in an actual restaurant, we played a lot of games, drank a lot of wine, and my mom and I went shopping.

I have been searching for the perfect garden gnome for my entire life, and this fellow was the first thing I saw at Merry’s Mercantile, and I love him so much. His name is Salvadore.

Side note: longtime Calgary bloggers may remember Merry as Merry About Town or Merry With Children! She has the cutest little store in Bentley, and if you are ever in Central Alberta, you must go. You must! I saw this and I did not buy it, which I regret deeply.

Regrets about mug non-purchases aside, it was a nice finish to what was a really cold, grey, snowy week. On Wednesday I was getting groceries and the parking lot was so cold and windy that I checked my weather app.

Feels like minus 18! No wonder I was cold. Luckily the weather is supposed to turn warm and more “seasonal” this week; I feel like the whole city was starting to slip into depression, what with the return of winter.

Back to the topic of groceries, there are supply chain issues that are AFFECTING MY POPCORN PURCHASES. Boom Chicka Pop has gone from just my favourite light kettle corn being unavailable to being all flavours being completely unavailable. And – AND – there was also no Skinny Pop popcorn, my second choice, which feels like a Punishment From The Universe for buying something with such a stupid name. What’s next, am I going to be forced (“forced”) to buy Lesser Evil popcorn, just because I publicly announced I would not support a company that assigns moral values to food? Or will that start a chain reaction of more popcorn emergencies? I’m in a vicious circle of my own making. The snake is eating its own tail!

Sure, I could make my own popcorn. I do own all the appropriate accoutrements. But I don’t want to. I look forward to opening a bag of popcorn on Friday night and not doing anything else; I don’t WANT to pop my own popcorn, like a Luddite. Is a bag of popcorn too much to ask for?

Pandemic Reading

Girls Lost. I really appreciated the quality of the writing and the creativity of this book. This author is renowned and award-winning, and I loved the Swedish setting. It’s a really unique concept and English classes everywhere could have a field day with the symbolism of a meat-eating flower whose nectar turns girls into boys; the theme of toxic masculinity and violence is strong. However, I didn’t really love the book as a whole, as magic and fantasy are not to my taste. If they are to your taste, though, I think you might love this.

The Space Between Us. Wow, just wow. This is one of the best books I’ve read in a long time, perhaps ever. There’s just so much in here, I hardly even know where to begin. This is a story of two women; one is the house servant to the other. It’s a story about intertwined lives, about class differences, about the incredible burden of being a woman, about how pain is universal, about poverty and literacy and education and the lack thereof. It’s set in Bombay but honestly, the lessons are for everyone, all over the world. It’s an incredibly written book, with so much beauty and sadness. I was distraught and uplifted and so sad to finish this. It is the first book I have read by this author; I have had one of her books on hold for a few months now, and I just put everything she’s ever written on hold. I cannot say enough about this book and how it touched me.

How To Be A Grown-Up. I picked this up on a whim since the authors wrote The Nanny Diaries, which I really enjoyed back in the day. This book is okay; it deals with a woman going through a separation from literally one of the worst non-physically abusive character you can imagine. I mean, this guy is a complete loser of a child-man. So I found it hard to get into the story as I was so constantly incensed by what a jerk this guy was, and how he reminded me of someone I know who is also involved in a divorce from someone I know, and I am not going to put any more details than that but THOSE OF YOU WHO KNOW ME WELL KNOW WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT. I guess I found it triggering? Anyway, it’s fine, this book is fine, I liked it fine, everything is fine. Parts of it are really, really funny and parts of it are astonishingly distressing.

I am very much looking forward to this week, and not just because it’s my birthday; I am anxiously awaiting the arrival of milder weather so I can find a spot for Salvadore to live. I hope you have a beautiful week, my friends. xo

Doing The Wave; 107 Weeks In

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“You and your waving.” My husband said to me on our walk one day, as I waved enthusiastically at a person across the street, only to realize that I had no idea who that person was. This happens more often than you might think; then again, if you know me at all, you would probably not be surprised at the frequency at which it happens.

I am a waver, and I like to greet or acknowledge people, even when I don’t know them. If I pass someone on the sidewalk, at the very least I will nod and smile. More likely, I will give a nod, smile, and a subdued Hand Up Half Wave:

Sometimes I will add the Finger Wiggle, which, if I’m wearing mittens, looks the same as the Hand Up Half Wave, but the feeling is there:

However, if I see someone I know – or I think it’s someone I know – I give a much more active and enthusiastic wave:

This is subdued considering that internally, when I see a friend, I feel like this:

I may or may not have the reputation of being the Crazy Friendly Lady in the neighbourhood, but I embrace my role as Neighbourhood Greeter.

Last week, Barkley and I had just gotten back from our walk, and I was taking advantage of the thaw to clean up the backyard of Barkley-related detritus, when I heard a cheerful “Hello there!” I looked up and saw my new next-door neighbour over the fence. “Oh, hi!” I said and waved happily, realizing at the last minute what was in my hand.

I have waved a dog waste bag at people on the street more times than I can count, while on Barkley walks, but always the bag is CLOSED. When my new neighbour greeted me, I was mid-pickup, my hand was ensconced in the bag and it was full, FULL, people, of dog waste and that is what I waved at him. As I realized what I was doing, I slowly dropped my hand and smiled, asking him how his reno was going.

If he was offended by the view inside a dog waste bag, he didn’t show it; instead he invited me to come and see what was happening. I had never been inside that house before; it was like being inside my own house, but taken down to the studs. I like to think of the neighbourhood, which was established in the early 1960s, and all the original owners choosing the little bungalow layout that suited them best.

There are still a few original owners on our street; Mrs G, next door, is one of them, and Mr. and Mrs. C, down the street. I like to think about all the changes they have seen in sixty years; I have seen a lot in 22 years. I’ve seen a lot in two years, with all my extensive neighbourhood walks, with and without Barkley.

Barkley is going in to get his spring haircut this week (fur cut?) and I am dreading it, not because of the actual grooming – he loves our local groomer – but because of the inevitable comments from strangers that ensue. When he’s really fluffy – as he is now – his lump is hardly discernable, but that will certainly change this week.

I like to think the best of people, and I like to think that people mean well, and they are just concerned for his well-being, but reactions from strangers about his very large lump are hurtful reminders to me that my dog is at the end of his life, and I don’t feel like I need any more reminders. “What IS that?” people will ask, or “Is that a lump on his side?” which is, in my opinion, lacking in intelligence as we all have eyes and we can see that there is, indeed, a large lump on his side. Sometimes I will get a “Can’t you do anything about that?” which also strikes me as unkind, as well as stupid, because if the benefits of removing it exceeded the costs to his well-being, well, I would.

Honestly, it’s enough to make me want to give up my Friendly Neighbour persona.

It’s gotten to the point that I got teary-eyed with gratitude when I saw a lady on our street, who looked at Barkley’s lump, and merely said “He’s still getting around, isn’t he!” I almost cried. He IS still getting around, thank you, thank you.

I was speaking to the groomer about this, as I was arranging his upcoming appointment. The groomer is a person who I would describe as being exactly suited to her job, in every way. She is not, however, a People Person. She is a tall, sturdy, strong woman with a lot of tattoos and who gives off a vibe of Tolerating Dog Owners But Barely. I like her a lot.

Anyway, she is great with Barkley, and I mentioned my dread at having his lump exposed to the world, and the inevitable slew of comments that will follow in the weeks to come. She paused for a moment and said to me “Tell you what I would do. Do you want my advice?” I said of course I did, to which she responded “You tell those people to mind their own fucking business, that’s what.” I started laughing and she said, “I’m serious! Tell them to fuck right off and mind their own business.” After that she said, in a world-weary way, “GOD, I hate people.”

I laughed and laughed, imagining myself responding in this way. That would destroy my Friendly Neighbourhood Lady persona entirely. I would NEVER, but I am happy to have such commiseration, and in the meantime, I will tell them to fuck right off and mind their own business in spirit.

Pandemic Reading

Wish You Were Here. Ugh, this is on me. It is my own damn fault. I do not like this author at all – god knows, I have tried. I find her writing to be contrived, cliched, gimmicky, and heavy-handed. So WHY did I think it was a good idea to pick up this book that IS ABOUT THE EARLY DAYS OF THE PANDEMIC? I will never know. “You did this to yourself,” I said to myself throughout the book. Anyway. I very much disliked it.

The Souvenir Museum. This was a well-written and clever collection of short stories. The settings were all different, but some of the characters intersected or appeared in multiple stories, which I like. All in all enjoyable.

The Reading List. This is a very sweet and moving story about an unlikely friendship, based on a found list of books to read, all of which are books I personally have read and loved. It works with the theme of family, born and chosen, friendship, the importance of community, and the role of books and libraries in our lives. If you are a library and book lover, then you might love this as much as I did. But I’m going to give a huge caveat here: TRIGGER WARNING. There is a sad subplot that I know for a fact will be very upsetting and triggering to a couple of my readers in particular, and if you think that might be you, please please please message me before you read this book. I am not going to tell you what the trigger is because it is a spoiler; instead, message me.

Happy April everyone! I hope spring is springing where you are. xo

Marital Mismatches and Superpowers; One Hundred and Two Weeks In

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It feels like I was JUST saying that February is tomorrow, and here we are, MARCH is tomorrow! February flew by; part of it was that it felt like Life Was Hectic, with wrestling tournaments and a new school semester and a five-day weekend thrown in for good measure, but part of it was that we have had absolutely gorgeous, mild weather in a I Can’t Believe It’s February kind of way. This, however, came to an abrupt end this past week; I had to put on my snowpants, again, to go for a walk.

It’s weather like this that makes automatic car starters so popular around here, for people who don’t have garages. I mean, obviously. I am no expert on this subject, but I can only assume that if a person were to use an automatic car starter while their car was in a garage, they might drop dead of carbon monoxide poisoning on entering the garage, unless the garage door was open, but if it was, why would you need the automatic car starter? Why would you go into the garage, open the door, and then use an automatic car starter? Why wouldn’t you just start your car?

Anyway, automatic car starters. I don’t have one – I have a garage, and I use it – but I’m sure they are great for weather like we had this past week. As I was walking the other day, attired as above, I started to pass a truck parked on the street, and then that truck started lightly honking its horn. I thought maybe it was a neighbour, trying to get my attention, but then I wasn’t sure how anyone would know I was me, dressed as I was, with sunglasses to boot. Startled, I looked up, but no one was in the truck. Then the truck started, and I thought, oh, automatic car starter and kept on my way. Shortly after that, the same thing happened with ANOTHER vehicle. And then another one! Three times this happened to me in a sixty minute walk, a light honk and then the car starting just as I was passing it, with no one in the vehicle.

I actually started to wonder if I had suddenly developed the world’s weirdest and most useless superpower, the ability to start cars merely by passing them on the street. Imagine! It would have been nicer to suddenly develop the ability to fly, or control the weather, or even swing from buildings using webs shooting out of my own wrists, but I will admit I will take anything I can get in the superpower front.

As I was walking, I was listening to a podcast that was recorded in the summer, in Los Angeles, and one of the hosts mentioned that she hates showering, and showers only when she has to, which turns out to be every three to four days. Now, before I get further, I am going to say that if you are a person who is of similar mindset, I am not judging you: I assume we all know our own bodies and needs best, and this is a safe space, we are in the Trust Tree here. You do you.

Personally, I am a Daily Shower person, and I realize this is a great privilege of the Modern Age, but my Daily Shower is an Anchor in my day, and without it I feel like I would drift off into the Sea of Life. Even though I do not wash my hair every time I shower – that I do only about every 2-3 days – I feel refreshed and happy and like I hit the Reset Button Of Life every time I step out of the shower. It’s an important ritual in my day, and also, if you’ve ever seen me post-daily-workout, you would probably think a daily shower should not only be encouraged, but vital.

I get sweaty, is what I’m saying. I haven’t weighed myself since August 2020, and I don’t plan on weighing myself ever again, but sometimes I wonder how much water weight I lose in a workout. I’m a person who sweats a lot and I shall not sweat-shame myself, but honestly. I could wring out a tank top post-workout.

Back to the podcast. After the host mentioned her distaste for showers, the other host asked if her husband was still showering twice a day and that brings me to my whole point. Twice a day showers feels like a lot, but I have definitely done that in the summer, after a day spent outside gardening or hiking, covered in sunscreen and bug spray. But what I have a hard time reconciling in my head is what is their marriage like? You never know, of course, what goes on in someone’s marriage, but if my husband – who also showers daily – started showering every 3-4 days, I think it would end in divorce. I just couldn’t handle it. I recognize, again, privilege and that our bodies adjust to what we do to them, but still.

It’s the mismatch that gets me. It’s not like I think my husband and I should be clones of each other, because that would be weird and disturbing, and also I would not want to be married to my own clone, god, there can’t be TWO of us. But I also don’t think that Opposites Attract, or if they do Attract, they don’t Stay Attracted, if you know what I mean.

I have been thinking about this because we are coming up to our twentieth anniversary – twenty years! – in a few weeks. I find it interesting, there are so many behaviours that would never bother me if anyone else in the world did them, but if it was my husband, NO. NO SIR. The following would put an actual strain on my marriage, an I don’t think this is WORKING kind of strain: smoking, leaving dirty clothes on the floor instead of in the hamper, drug use, neglecting his health, and, importantly, less frequent showering than me. Fortunately, none of those things have come to pass, so we shall happily celebrate our China Anniversary later this month, minus the china.

Look at that sweet young thing! She had no idea that in twenty years, she’d be writing about marital shower habits.

Pandemic Reading

Notes From A Small Island. When I posted this on Instagram, a friend introduced me to the Bill Bryson Theory: the first one you read is hilarious, and then each subsequent title is progressively less funny. YES. I have enjoyed Bryson so much in previous books but this, meh. It follows him on a seven-week tour of Britain, his adopted country, and yes, this was published in 1995 so it is obviously dated and yes, Britain in the 80s and 90s was a grim and depressing place to be, but ugh. This book was so dull and disappointing. There were a couple of amusing anecdotes and some interesting facts, but whoever reviewed this at The Globe and Mail – “Doubled over belly shakes and seltzer through the nose funny” – was maybe drunk.

Black Is The Body. This was excellent! I love a good essay collection and this one was insightful and thoughtful. The first essay, about the author being randomly stabbed at a coffee shop, was startling; the rest of the book deals with race, home, marriage, and motherhood, all tying back to her body and what it means to be black in America. 

The Echo Chamber. This is a very clever satire and commentary about appearances, social media, and cancel culture. The Cleverley family is an absolutely ridiculous group of caricatures, but there’s a thoughtful and interesting pre-SM backstory. Also interesting to me is that it was published in 2021 and there are quite a few references to past mask-wearing, vaccinations, and how fun it is to go shopping again, now that the pandemic is over. Oh, sweetie. The epilogue I could have done without, but in general it was smart and amusing. As I say, it’s satire, so definitely not for everyone, as there are a few storylines that feel distasteful.

My Boyfriend Wrote A Book About Me. I am NOT the correct demographic for this book, that much is obvious. It is supposed to be a humorous book of essays about bad dates, relationships, and one-night stands, but I found it so terribly sad. The whole time, I kept thinking Oh, sweetie, no. No, don’t sleep with that guy. No. That’s not going to help your self-esteem. It’s been a long time since I was on the dating scene but hoo boy, this woman had literally the worst luck with men. As a preview, her ex wrote a book about her, referring to her as his “fat-assed girlfriend,” which should give you an idea about the general temperature of the book.

There has been a lot of terrible news this week, as we are all aware. I haven’t mentioned the incredible sadness and fear for the people living in Ukraine, for all my Ukrainian friends, but of course that has been on my mind this week. Lots of love to all of you, from my little corner of the world. xo

A Week of Winter Outfits; One Hundred and One Weeks In

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When you were a kid, did you have paper dolls or Barbies or those Mattel Fashion Plates? I sure did and I loved them immoderately. I loved the idea of different clothes for different activities; I loved putting together the outfits and imagining what the doll would do in those outfits. Gardening! The opera! Or, in the case of my Princess Di paper dolls, dancing with John Travolta or heading to Balmoral for some kind of Scottish holiday! In my world, Princess Di was free of crushing sadness and eating disorders; her life was non-stop fun and excitement, and there was an outfit for every occasion.

What I’m saying is that I love clothes, then and now. I love my own clothes and I love other people’s clothes, too. I admire other people’s style, even when – maybe especially when – it is really different from mine. I love the thought of expressing oneself through one’s clothing, I love looking at new fashion trends, even when I have no intention of incorporating them into my own wardrobe – I’m looking at you, balloon leg jeans – and I absolutely LOVE accessories and how easy it is to add flair to an outfit.

To that end, I follow a number of fashion bloggers, from a woman in her 30s to a woman twice that and everything in between, and the blogs all have one thing in common: they are aspirational. I mean, one of them JUST posted about what to wear in St. Barth’s. Like, this isn’t information I NEED, but I like it. I love looking at the fashion blogs, with their gorgeous scenic backgrounds and their perfect clothes, but rarely do the outfits resonate with me in a I could wear that kind of way. Almost never do I see an outfit and think that it could fit into my life.

Also, I’m not going to St. Barth’s anytime soon, but if I do, I will know what to wear.

I am not a trendy woman in any way, nor do I believe in the Fashion Police, but I have one very strict rule that I follow when it comes to clothes, and that is that I should always feel good in my clothes. When I get dressed every morning, I want to feel happy, comfortable, and cute. If I don’t, something is wrong with my outfit. This is a very important distinction: something is wrong with my OUTFIT, something is NOT wrong with ME.

It is really important to me to get dressed in something that makes me feel good, every single day, no matter what the day has in store for me. That’s why I decided to write about all the outfits I wore last week, why I chose them, and my feelings associated with them. What else is there to write about in February? The snow? As a note, it’s winter here and currently very cold, but last week the temperatures are what I think of as mild winter temperatures – hovering around the zero mark, give or take a few degrees.

In the spirit of keeping it real, I have had photos taken at various places in my home, which is where I am most of the time, so no pretty backgrounds for me. Not interested in clothes? Skip forward to this week’s reading; I have a couple of great titles and one not-so-great title.

One Week Of Winter Outfits

Monday

This was Valentine’s Day, and it was also a teaching day, so I festively decided to wear my pink pants, which I bought in the 2016 Boxing Day sales; the tank and legwarmers are even older than that. The long-sleeved top is new, purchased online, and this was its debut. Regrets, I have them. The trouble with online shopping is that it’s so hard to tell what an item is going to look like. I expected this to be at least waist-length, but it barely covers my ribcage, not that I’m going to wear it without a tank underneath, but still. It’s short. It’s also really open in the back:

It turned out to be comfortable to teach in, but I would only wear this in a class with female students; I prefer a bit of coverage for the few older men that are in my Thursday class. So that I didn’t freeze for the rest of the day, I put on this tunic that I bought at Jacob many years ago, Jacob having gone out of business in 2015. I love this tunic, and I love these super-tall boots – they zip up the side so I get the funkiness of laces without the bother of laces.

Tuesday

I don’t normally have class on Tuesdays, but I was teaching a one-off for a friend, and so I put on this, which is one of my very favourite outfits. The sweater and legwarmers are so cozy, and I love the light grey long-sleeve top for extra coverage while teaching.

Plus, polka dots!

Wednesday

Wednesday is Grocery Day, and it was quite cold, so I layered up. I think I bought this sweater in about 2013 or 2014, and it’s still in great shape. The most sustainable fashion pieces are the ones that last forever, in my humble opinion.

The kitchen is my habitat for a good portion of the day, and a good portion of that portion sees me chopping vegetables. Please note that my hair matches my wall colour quite nicely; THAT is how you coordinate, people.

Thursday

I teach on Thursdays, so I slipped on this long cardigan to match the stripes in my tank top. I teach in a very chilly community centre, so I put on a long-sleeved tee and legwarmers. For fun I added my mala made for me by my friend Amy (HI AMY), although I’d never wear it to teach – the risk of getting smacked in the face is way too high.

All of these pieces are at least five to seven years old, but I think that the leggings and tee are much, much older. The tee is from Jacob and I’m sure I wore it in our annual family photo in the fall of 2010.

Friday

An outing! I had an outing that wasn’t a class OR groceries! I took the car for an oil change. You only live once, people.

This sweater and these jeans are fairly new. I love the cozy warmth and the fit of the sweater, and it’s so soft. I have it layered with a long-sleeve tee underneath, naturally.

Jeans! I have things to say. So, in the last six months or so, my body has changed. I am not going to tell you in what way it has changed, nor will I assign a value – positive or negative – to that change, but I am going to tell you that my jeans, purchased in 2014-15 no longer fit the way I wanted them to. I no longer felt cute or comfortable in them. I bought these jeans, and another pair, last Black Friday online, which sounds more bold than it really was, as I had tried on jeans from that store, Bootlegger, only a month prior. I am SO happy with them. They are a perfect fit, and they feel great.

I am not interested in judging changes to body shape, either my own or someone else’s. Body shapes change, and that is a neutral statement, it is not something we need to celebrate or condone. It just IS. And sometimes, that means new jeans.

This is my reading chair, where I spend a lot of my non-kitchen time. Please note cute and fuzzy companion, where he spends a lot of his time.

Saturday

I spent most of Saturday afternoon – surprise! – in the kitchen.

Very long time readers will recall my gig as a food writer over at YMC – all my recipes can be found here, if you’re interested – and at my time there, I amassed a number of very cute aprons, of which this was one. Also, shout-out to my Lee Valley apple corer/ peeler. I baked a pie for the boys, riffing on Jessica Seinfeld’s recipe for apple blackberry, and I am always grateful not to cripple up my hands peeling apples. Look at how silly it turned out!

Doesn’t it look like it’s winking and sticking it’s tongue out? Sassy thing.

Anyway, during my non-baking hours, I wore my other pair of new jeans, along with a black sweater over the stretchy grey top. Comfy and cute, and I actually had my hair down. The girl who cuts my hair chided me, saying that wearing it in a bun all the time causes breakage, and I promised her I would try to wear it down more often, which means, apparently, once a week.

Sunday

For me, Sunday is a day for long walks and cooking, and so jeans, a long warm tee (from Jacob again! RIP Jacob), and a nice thick black sweater from the Gap was just the ticket. These are the jeans I bought that ended up having too much stretch to them, and so I always wear a long shirt to cover up the inevitable sagging that occurs by early afternoon.

You can probably deduce for yourself that my general esthetic is a) lots of layers, b) cozy and comfortable pieces that I’ve had for many years, and c) black and grey. It works for my life, which may not include trips to St. Barth’s (YET), but is pretty cheery and pleasant nonetheless.

Pandemic Reading

The Art of Forgetting. Hmm. Well. I went in with decent expectations, as I’ve read a few books by this author – one last week! – and I have enjoyed them. However, this was…not good. I found the characters unlikeable and there was just so much about body weight, dieting, and “getting fat” talk. It was like Mean Girls, but grown up, and not funny. The author tried to tie together traumatic brain injury with empowering yourself, but most of the time I just found myself reading with a furrowed brow. Not great for my facial lines, save yourselves the trouble.

The Choice. Wow! This book! I cannot say enough about this incredibly inspiring memoir. The author is a Holocaust survivor, and she’s still alive today; she wrote this book at age 90. She was imprisoned at Auschwitz at age 16, and from there was marched to a number of work camps, and then subjected to the Death March and was found in a pile of bodies at the end of the war by American soldiers. She was an accomplished dancer and gymnast – she was cut from the Olympic team because she was Jewish – but when she was found after the war, she needed to learn how to walk again, she was so broken. Not only did she survive, but she thrived, immigrating to America with nothing, and building her way up to become a renowned psychologist, working with patients with traumatic stress disorders. This book is nothing short of incredible.

The Gift. This book was written after The Choice, and is more self-help than memoir. It is a wonderful book about seeing your darkest moments as your greatest teacher. It is inspiring and empowering.

How do you feel about fashion? Do you love getting dressed in the morning or is it a chore? I hope you enjoyed this little glimpse into my clothing life and, by extension, my home! xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Hygge-Chaka, Hygge-Hygge-Hygge-Chaka Edition

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I can’t stop this feeling, deep inside of me, January you just don’t realize what you do to me…when you are cold but it’s getting more light you let me know everything’s all right…

Ever since I read The Little Book of Hygge, I’ve been a bit obsessed with the concept: winter in Calgary is long, and being intentional about being cozy fits the bill. This January has been all over the map, weather-wise, from extreme cold to pretty mild, but windy days.

Some of the things featured in this month’s Favourite Things have been featured in previous Favourite Things; because of that, I had some doubts. Should I continue with Favourite Things if I’m repeating them? Should I press myself to continue with this monthly feature if I’m just going to write about the same things over and over? Do I have no new ideas for anything and is it all for nothing? Nothing, I say???

What can I say, we are in a global pandemic. Dark moments, even about silly blog features, happen. Originally I started Favourite Things with items that I had recently purchased, and now I just like to celebrate the things I like. Apparently, some of these things deserve celebration OVER AND OVER AGAIN. Celebrate the good things! Right? There are no RULES to Favourite Things other than being things that I love that month. There’s no LAW I can’t write about bum warmers over and over. THERE IS NO LAW.

Anyway. This month it is all the things that make me feel hygge. If you can’t feel hygge in January, when can you? Well, if you live in Calgary, there are plenty of opportunities, but I digress.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Hygge-Chaka Hygge-Hygge-Chaka Edition

All The Sweaters, All The Time

I follow a number of fashion blogs, several of which are in California, one in Texas, and one in Florida. The latter blogger once mentioned that she had two sweaters for cooler temperatures, and when I read that, I stared into the distance for a while. Two! I can’t even imagine a world in which I didn’t have a sweater on for nine months of the year. Nine months AT MINIMUM. I have an enormous collection of sweaters: some are light, for mildly cold days, and some could be considered a cold-weather jacket for warmer climates.

Bonus: fuzzy slippers and fuzzy dog, both hygge.

I wear a lot of long cardigans, especially on teaching days when I need to strip down to only two layers (yoga tank and long sleeve tee) for class, without ruining my hair. If I’m not teaching, I wear pullover sweaters with layers underneath. Always, always layers. I can’t think of a single instance wherein I would have a sweater on without at least a tee or tank underneath.

Warm Up That Booty

I have mentioned bum warmers so many times, but they deserve a mention for their place in the hygge lifestyle. A local woman makes these out of thrifted sweaters, and they are just so cute and snuggly.

I have three that I alternate between, but this one is my current favourite as it’s a little bit longer. The other two have matching mittens, but this one goes nicely with my battery-powered heated mittens.

She’s Got Legs, She Knows How To Warm Them

Bums aren’t the only thing that need warming! I wear legging-style yoga pants most days, and those thin pants are just not enough for warmth. On teaching days I wear fitted, stirrup-style legwarmers to keep me warm in that cold, cold community centre; the floor is linoleum over concrete, and it is VERY cold, even in the spring and fall.

Years ago my mother-in-law knitted me several pairs of legwarmers, and they are incredibly thick and cozy. I wear them for walks on days that are cold, but not cold enough for snow pants.

They are too heavy to wear indoors or while teaching but perfect for walking. Options! It’s good to have them.

Sock It To Me

On non-teaching-but-still-wearing-yoga-pants days, I like to wear super-long socks as an extra layer. I have a number of pairs, mostly in black or charcoal.

It takes me a significant amount of time to get dressed in the morning.

It’s Tea Time, Bitches.

One of the interesting things, reading about hygge culture, is that Denmark is a huge consumer of coffee. Me too, Denmark, me too.

The very first thing I do every morning, before I drink two glasses of water, before I wash my face and brush my teeth, before ANYTHING at all, is start the coffee pot. I drink essentially a pot of black coffee every morning and I am not ashamed to admit it. The coffee is not strong, I just like a lot of it. Don’t worry: I drink a ton of water every day too, about 4 litres a day, so I am pretty hydrated and also, yes, I do have to use the bathroom a lot. Sometimes I’ll meet someone who doesn’t drink coffee and never has, and I will be in awe, wondering what that’s like.

Anyway, I have developed a Tea Ritual in the afternoon. When you drink an entire pot of coffee before 8:30 in the morning, you probably don’t need more caffeine in your life. I mean, you do you, but I don’t need more caffeine in my life. However, I like a nice warm drink in the afternoon as sort of a break in my (not-so-busy) schedule. It’s a little treat to look forward to, choosing an herbal tea from my massive stockpile and sipping.

Remember this mug? Leanne sent it to me (HI LEANNE) in the Secret Santa Mug Swap, and it is absolutely perfect for an afternoon cuppa. It’s the perfect size and shape, and it makes me feel cozy and hygge just looking at it, let alone drinking from it.

Girl Put Your Apron On, Tell Me Your Favourite Song

You know what is super hygge? Baking delicious things!

I kind of combined two recipes, and made some changes to end up with this pumpkin swirl loaf, which turned out to be super delicious. The boys asked me if I EVER follow a recipe exactly and I had to really think about it. Pie crust! I never deviate from a pie crust recipe because, let’s face it, pie crust is a bitch to make.

Here’s a Happy Homemaker Hint for you: when rolling out pie crust, roll it between two pieces of wax paper. Take off the top one, and just flip it over onto the pie pan, and peel off the bottom layer. It’s so much easier, although it can still stick and make you swear.

Anyone who knows me knows I despise pie, particularly apple – it’s a grievous waste of good apples! – but I lovingly make them for my family. Well, lovingly and swearingly; as you can see, I had to do some crust patching. Ah well, the whole thing lasted less than 24 hours, so I guess no one cares about esthetics.

Those are my favourite things for this chilly month of January; things that make me feel all the hygge. What are your favourite things? xo