Category Archives: Hello Calgary

Next Stop: The Glue Factory

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Last Friday, two days before my first road race, the road race I’ve been training for over these past many months, I went for a light run. My hip was a bit achy but I thought I would push through; this was apparently a big mistake as suddenly I had shooting and stabbing pain in my right leg and hip flexor. It took me a solid twenty minutes to get from the gym to the parking lot and once home, I couldn’t put weight on it at all. I had to crawl just to use the bathroom. I spent most of Friday lying on the couch, crying.

Needless to say, I didn’t run in my road race.

My very good friend, who is also a counsellor (HI TARYN) told me that the emotional toll of physical pain is often worse than the injury itself, especially for people who are very active. I believe it. I spent a lot of the time over the weekend feeling blue and also being in a lot of pain. There’s nothing like having to get your husband to help you PUT ON your underwear to make you appreciate your normal physical abilities.

My fear was that there was something really wrong with my hip joint and that I tore something, but I didn’t have bruising or swelling, so I didn’t THINK that was it. I have torn my groin before, just like a pro hockey player, and I knew what that looked like. It turns out that the ache in my hip was a nerve impingement which led to extreme muscle spasms. I’ve had a couple of appointments with dry needling, which is the weirdest and yet most instant-relief experience I’ve had. I have renewed optimism that maybe, just maybe, I just might make it after all.

“Next stop: the glue factory,” I said to my younger son, who just stared at me. “Like Boxer! Remember Boxer?” He continued to stare at me silently and then told me that yes, he remembers Boxer and that really, I wasn’t very funny.

The upside of all this is that on Friday the boys made dinner, including a vegetarian protein source just for me. It was a pasta salad – complete with creamy dressing made with vegan mayo – with edamame and all my favourite vegetables, and they sauteed themselves some chicken as well. AND THEY CLEANED UP, LIVING UP TO MY OWN RIGOROUS CLEANING STANDARDS. Why don’t I get them to make dinner more often? It was a highlight of what was a pretty bummer weekend.

Another highlight is my flowers arrived! I had ordered some planters and herbs from a fundraiser, and they are gorgeous. My husband brought a chair into the yard so I could direct the action as he put the flowers into pots for me. I have officially given up on trying to grow anything whatsoever except false Solomon’s seal in my very dry and very shaded front bed, and so for Mother’s Day he bought me three more big pots in which to grow annuals. I’m so happy with them! The Mayday is finally starting to bloom and the annuals are adding some very much needed colour to the landscape.

Remember last year when I talked about the surviving tulips and how terrible they looked? Well, nothing has changed on that front. The foliage is, again, all flopped over and looking terrible. How is this happening? The people just down the street have a glorious showing of tulips, all different colours, all in bloom. Why are my tulips so stupid? I was talking with one of my seniors and I told her that I have no interest, none whatsoever, in nurturing fragile plants. Our growing season is so short, I want plants that are hardy and happy and that would probably survive nuclear fallout. It’s why I have so many daylilies in my yard. It’s also probably an indication as to why I would not be a good nurse.

Speaking of nurses, god bless my husband and kids who have had to put up with me and my “confinement.” Nicole doesn’t really do well without exercise, my husband told his boss yesterday, which feels like a big understatement. I’m trying not to be too crabby about things – after all, there are so many worse things in the world. I’ve been going to physio and getting dry needled; if you’ve never had dry needling, let me tell you: it’s kind of a trip. It feels a lot like when you’re sleeping and you dream that you are falling and jerk yourself awake, but only with certain muscles.

In non-injury-related news, today is Barkley’s birthday! He’s 11! Later today he’s getting a special freeze-dried chicken treat, which he loves, and on the weekend I’ll bake a cake for the humans in the house. I was thinking carrot, but the boys think a brown cake would be more appropriate for a brown dog’s birthday, so I guess chocolate it is.

Happy birthday, Fuzzy MacFuzzfuzz. xo

But did you know when it snows my eyes become large

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Several times a week – sometimes even several times a day – I peer into the mirror and notice a smudge of mascara under my eyes. It’s only after I’ve taken a tissue with makeup remover to it that I realize the exercise is futile; that the smudge in question is not mascara at all, but it reflects the actual colour of the skin under my eyes. I’m not sure how many times I will dab at my under eye circles before I realize that they are not removable, but right now the number is high and growing.

Aging is a privilege and I never forget that for a moment, and so I should probably just embrace my haggard self with joy and acceptance. I have been using Neutrogena Rapid Wrinkle Repair Eye Cream for many months now, and I will say that it is great for under eye wrinkles; I have no crows’ feet and the lines are minimal. However, despite its claim that it “brightens the under eye area” and “reduces the look of dark circles” it has done nothing in that vein. Or perhaps – and this terrifying thought just came to me – perhaps it is doing a LOT and without it I would resemble an actual zombie.

Moving on.

It’s a short week around here and in the manner of short weeks, it feels excessively long. Part of this was that my husband was out of town; the kids are so easy now that it shouldn’t really make a difference, but it does. Last night – and last week as well, due to Mr’s long working hours – I took my younger son to his drum lesson. The drum lessons themselves are held on the second floor of a seedy-ish building, and the drum teacher seems to be constantly a little bit high. “Heyyyyyy, let’s play some DRUMS” is his general greeting, and with his beard and beanie and general demeanor, he is exactly the kind of person you might peg as a drum teacher. This is not in any way a judgement; I think he’s actually great. My son has really clicked with him and meanwhile, I’m listening to a lot of beats related to “Paint it Black” and “Gimme Some Lovin’.”

Speaking of beats, for Mother’s Day the boys gave me a tambourine. They all – this includes my husband, on the bass – jam downstairs, and since my own beloved instrument – the piano – is highly not portable, as well as being not conducive for jamming, they decided I needed something to be included. I now feel like my lifelong journey to Dancing Queen status is complete.

How was your Mother’s Day? The Saturday prior was my mom’s birthday, and so we went to my parents’ for the night. I made a cake and I was very happy with how it turned out, and that I am getting used to using my decorating tips:

I was particularly pleased since I wrapped her gift from the boys, and it looked like this:

Why don’t I just give it up and go for gift bags? Why do I always feel like I am a person who can actually use wrapping paper and tape effectively? I feel like I’m missing some sort of gene here, the gift wrapping gene. My husband looked at it and burst out laughing. “Why didn’t you trim the paper more?” he asked, like someone who is unaware that every time I do that I trim too much off and then end up taping pieces on the exposed box in order to compensate. I would never dream of starting over with a new piece, because I don’t want to waste all the paper that has already been inevitably crinkled up in my sad attempt to gift wrap.

Gift bags, I must embrace them.

The past week or two has been glorious in terms of temperature; the sun has been shining and I’ve gone for walks in only a sweater, with no gloves. In fact, it has been so nice that I have actually had the windows open in the house. This is a good thing and a bad thing: I like to listen to my Spotify playlist entitled Nicole Karaoke, and, as you may infer by the name, it contains songs that I love to sing along to. Well, I love to sing along to most songs, but these are my particular favourites. The negative part comes when I find myself really belting out the tunes and then realizing that my neighbours are likely out enjoying their yards and are probably privy to my passionate version of Kiss From a Rose or Eye in the Sky. BABY! I compare you to a KISS FROM A ROSE on the grey. OOOOOHhhh. As we all know, my zest for singing far outweighs my vocal talents, so thoughts and prayers for my neighbours. The one consolation is that my octogenarian next-door neighbour is a little deaf, so she’s probably safe from I am the EYE IN THE SKY, looking at YOUUUUUUU I CAN READ YOUR MIND. 

The rain and cold – and possible snow – started today. Knowing this was coming, yesterday I took advantage of the sunshine to go to the garden centre, purchase the hardy, frost-and-snow tolerant plants I wanted to add to the garden this year, and plant. Later when I walked Barkley, I noticed half the neighbourhood frantically working in the garden, trying to make hay while the sun shone, so to speak.

The rain (and possible snow) will be great at getting those plants settled in, anyway. Plants become stressed when planted in too-hot conditions, I heard a local expert say on the radio this morning, which, well, there is no fear of that. I plan on reading a lot this weekend.

On that note, I have lately been reading books with very heavy subject matter: a devastating memoir of a man with epilepsy who was the victim of gross medical incompetence, a memoir of a woman who was physically and emotionally abused in her arranged marriage, and The Tattooist of Auschwitz. After that trio, I needed a palate cleanser, and so I read this:

It was exactly what I needed, and it might be what you need too, if you are in the mood for a light and hilarious book with a real feel-good ending. I loved it so much I went straight to the library and picked up her first novel. Between that and some David Sedaris, I plan on having a long weekend with entertaining books.

I hope you all – you Canadians, anyway – have a wonderful long weekend! May you escape the snow. xo

Never Say Never

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On Sunday I was returning a book to the library – A Mind Unraveled, if you’re interested – and I noticed the sign on the door stating that, as usual, the library will be closed on Sundays from Victoria Day weekend to Labour Day weekend. Victoria Day, I thought, They are really giving a lot of notice for that. Then I realized that the long weekend is, in fact, less than two weeks away.

I seem to have trouble processing that it is May, let alone the second week of May. Perhaps it’s because on Sunday morning I woke up to this:

Well, it is certainly not unusual to get snow in May, but this, coupled with the completely dull grey sky, was a bit much. My husband took me to the garden centre for some Mother’s Day shopping – I got three large planters and a whole lot of dirt – and I thought the place would be empty due to the wretched weather. I was surprised to see it fairly bustling; I suppose we are all an optimistic bunch. In any case, the snow has now melted and things are greening up, so our optimism was not misplaced.

It seems springlike now, but last week was wretchedly cold; I was beginning to despair that I would ever put away my winter coat. My mom and I went for our annual Mother’s Day pedicures last week, and of course I wore sandals so as not to smudge the polish. I felt like I was making a real fashion statement, in my sandals and capri-length jeans paired with my winter coat, gloves, and a long sweater.

We had dinner guests on Saturday and in talking about pedicures, my friend (HI DENISE) expressed astonishment that I have had red, and only red, nail polish on my toes ever since I was sixteen. I mean, it’s not the same exact shade of red; when I was sixteen I was really into Revlon’s Love That Red on both my toes and my lips, but it’s always been a variation of a true red. Why would you choose red when they have literally two hundred other colours at the salon? she asked. This is an excellent question and one I do not have an answer for other than I like red. Even my husband, who does not generally have an opinion on my nail polish, or any other feminine beauty products, asked why I didn’t switch it up a little. It’s just nail polish, can’t you just take it off? Well, I guess. But why would I, when I really like red?

This reminded me of a conversation I had several years ago with my friend Dan, who just happens to be a makeup guru. He told me I should be switching out my lip colours with the seasons.

Dan: You need to switch it up! It’s like your shoes; it’s not like you have only one colour of footwear.

Me: Well, actually, I do. All my shoes are black.

Dan: What.

Speaking of shoes, all of my boots seem to be wearing out at once. My much-loved lined rain boots have developed a crack along the top of the foot, much to my despair. I did purchase them when the boys were in preschool, so I suppose I got my money’s worth out of them, but still. I am in mourning. They are currently patched up with a piece of black Gorilla tape while I search for a suitable replacement. At around the same time as I purchased the boots, I also purchased a spring-weight coat which I wear at this time of year; at least when I’m not wearing my winter coat. My husband informed me yesterday morning that I MIGHT want to consider buying another coat, it’s starting to show its age. But then a random lady in the Superstore parking lot told me, only a few hours after that sad conversation, that she absolutely loved my coat, it’s gorgeous, and it looks so great with my hair. Well, random kind lady, I shall keep that coat based entirely on our lovely exchange. Also, I still like it.

Another thing I really like lately is my hair. As you know, in December, after many months of careful deliberation and the kind of thought process that usually accompanies any major life decision, I made the leap to growing out my layers. One thing you may not know about me is that I have never really liked my hair. It is in my bottom five percent of favourite body parts. I’m not even sure it is a body part, but nevertheless. Nevertheless, over my lifetime I’ve oscillated between actively disliking my hair and thinking it was satisfactory, a good solid C+. Not failing, but certainly not setting the world on fire.

Well, all that has changed. My hair therapist, god bless her, quietly snipped off quite a bit of length to facilitate the Layer Growing Out Process. It is not something I would have asked for, but there is a reason I have been her loyal client since 2002; she has vision. I am enjoying my bouncy, shorter hair so much. Let me show you the before and after.

This is me the morning of my hair appointment. Note roots, shredded-looking layers, basic Hair Sadness.

I don’t leave the house like that; here is me on the way to the salon, making the best of things:

Here’s the after – two days, one week, and two weeks later:

I am very pleased! Obviously things will change by the end of my colour cycle, but for now, all is glorious. The only issue is that with the shorter length – it doesn’t touch my shoulders – it is a bit tricky to put up into a bun. It’s nothing a sleeve of bobby pins won’t solve, but it takes a bit of time.

Time is something I don’t have at 4:45 in the morning, when I’m heading off to yoga practice. Therefore – and this is what I really wanted to talk to you about – I made a purchase I swore that I never would. It’s something that I lived through once and never, ever thought I would again. That chapter of my life, I had confidently thought, was closed forever. As of this week, though, a new era has begun and it is one that incorporates my new purchase.

People, I bought a scrunchie.

I know what you’re thinking: what’s next? Will I start embracing acid wash again, not having worn acid wash since the late Eighties? Will I swan into a party wearing denim overalls with one strap hanging down? Will I walk Barkley clad only in high-waisted jean short-shorts and a crop top, with gladiator sandals on my feet? God, I hope not.

Although I cannot believe that I, a grown woman, chose to spend $8 for a hair scrunchie, and I have gone out in public wearing one for the first time since 1993, I will tell you this: it works really well. Behold!

That little piece of material held my bun in for a very vigourous, sweaty practice that included drop-backs and a headstand, and so it is the real hero of this story. I guess the moral of the story is to never say never, although I really do think I can safely say NEVER AGAIN to acid wash, denim overalls, short-shorts and crop tops.

I hope.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The “It’s My Birthday Month!” Edition

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How was your weekend? Mine was filled with birthday festivities, not all of them mine. In fact, the only birthday festivity that was mine was a birthday lunch with my dearest friend, who I don’t see often enough but we always catch up on our birthdays, and pick up exactly where we left off. Don’t you love friends like that?

Friday night my older son went to one of his best friend’s sleepover birthday – this friend shares his actual birthday, which was a month earlier. Then, Saturday, we were hosting my son’s birthday party at a trampoline/ obstacle course park. I had wanted to have his party closer to his actual birthday, but one of his friends, who is very athletic and competes frequently, could only make it this Saturday. Unfortunately, that friend ended up being stranded out of town and couldn’t make it, because we had the craziest blizzard you can imagine. In fact, we had to cancel the party at the obstacle course because the roads were so incredibly dangerous and visibility was zero. We ended up having ten teen boys at our house, since they all live in the neighbourhood and I didn’t have to worry about their parents dying in fiery crashes on the highway. Or, as my mom always says, dead in a ditch. As it was, one of the moms told me it took her thirty minutes to drive from her house, pick up another friend, and come to my house, a trip that normally would take no more than eight minutes at worst.

The view from my front window, while waiting for guests to arrive.

As you know I am a woman with a plan, and spontaneity is NOT my strong point. I was not in the least prepared to have an impromptu gathering at my house but it all turned out rather well. There is a pizza place a block away, which was handy, and I had already had an ice-cream cake custom made by a woman who specializes in nut-free items, since one of the friends is severely allergic. It turned out great, and even though very few of my son’s friends actually watch Seinfeld, they were all familiar with the quote, which my son repeats several times a day:

The noise level did escalate a lot, but in a good way, since we now have a full drum set and an electric guitar. One of the guests is extremely musical and treated us all to a very good rendition of Crazy Train – which really spoke to me, given the situation – and Stairway to Heaven.

When the kids were eating cake, I listened in on their conversation, which revolved around the earth being flat, of all things. “Obviously the earth is flat because maps are flat,” one kid said, as everyone responded with much hilarity. “What’s a globe anyway?”

Normally I would be partaking in wine with so much noise and activity, but I had scheduled blood work for the following morning, and so I embraced the noise with complete sobriety.

I’ve always loved the month of April, and not TOTALLY because it’s my birthday month. Related: don’t you think we should all celebrate our birthdays the whole month long? One day just doesn’t seem sufficient. I love April because – massive blizzard notwithstanding – spring is in the air! Even the coldest, snowiest Aprils have my daylilies and yarrow popping up, and leaves budding on the shrubs and trees, and just the feeling that winter, real winter, is over. Yes, there is a foot of fresh snow, drifted everywhere with ice underneath it leading to perilous road conditions and flattened tulips, but it will melt!

Therefore, it is time for…

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The “It’s My Birthday Month” Edition

The Watch

Well, I think I have probably written about this enough , but I really am enjoying my Garmin watch. One of the things I like best about it is that it’s pretty. I know! It’s not all about esthetics, and beauty is found within, etcetera, but I like pretty things. It doesn’t look like an unattractive fitness tracker – to me, anyway – and I will maintain that it is very satisfying to see steps taken/ stair flights climbed when bringing home and putting away groceries. No wonder I feel exhausted after a Costco trip – there are many, many steps and flights involved!

Don’t you love those bracelets? They were all gifts from former yoga teacher apprentices of mine. Pretty things. 

Pandora Charms

Speaking of bracelets, I have a number of Pandora charm bracelets and for my birthday, my parents often give me a new charm. The little pink flower is what they gave me this year, and I love it!

Things That Are Pink

Speaking of pink things, there are not many in the Boyhouse, so I enjoy the ones that I do have. As I mentioned before, my mom makes me a pink cake for every birthday, I have a lot of pink flowers in my garden (none of which are clearly blooming, thankfully; see above photo of the yard for details), and every once in a while I bust out these pink pants:

I have to be in the right mood for them; whenever I wear colour that is not black or grey, I feel a bit showy, like a male peacock doing a mating ritual. Look at me, I’m a peacock. I think extreme weather in the spring is the perfect time to put on the pink pants. I’ve got my pink pants…I’ve got my pink pants on…

My Back Yard

This is not a euphemism, although it could be; we should all be happy with ourselves the way we are, including our “back yards.” But I am specifically referring to my literal back yard, which is currently – as shown – snow covered. On my birthday, though, it was not.

Once this snow melts, things will be lovely and green, and hopefully not too smushed from the weight of the ice and snow. Speaking of which, it feels appropriate that Game of Thrones is on tonight, although I won’t be able to watch it in real time, as that will take me way past my bedtime.

Enjoy what’s left of April, my friends. xo

Eating a Rainbow: Greek Salad and Pita Night, a.k.a. the best night of the week

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On Barkley’s last eye check – he has a propensity for eye infections and is now, sadly, on drops for life – the veterinarian said that in all her time in veterinary medicine, she has never encountered a dog like him. Now, this has to be taken with a grain of salt as she is a young woman – her name, for example, is Madison, a name that conjures up images of youth – but it turns out that he is the most cooperative dog she has dealt with when it comes to people jabbing his eye with a handheld pressure machine, putting weird little litmus-like papers in his eye, and, of course, giving eye drops.

The reason is that Barkley is literally a Pavlov’s dog. From the first time I gave him eye drops, I would also give him a treat, and now he one hundred percent associates food with eye drops. He is part Labrador, after all, which makes him extremely food-motivated. He licks his lips the second I bring out the drops; he also has an internal clock that is so accurate, he begins to nudge me with his nose at 7:00 am and pm, when he is due for his drops. “Eye drops” is right up there with “walk” for words we cannot say without consequences.

Speaking of walks, I am looking very much forward to the day that it doesn’t take me five minutes to get dressed to go out for twenty-five minutes. Barkley has also associated my legwarmers with walking; from the moment I go to my bedroom to pull on my thickest, woolliest legwarmers, he follows me from room to room, staring at me until I get the leash.

So I’m looking forward to the weekend even more than normal, because – ALLEGEDLY – this extreme cold is going to break and we may even have plus temperatures. PLUS TEMPERATURES. I don’t even want to get my hopes up too high, but PLUS.

I always look forward to the weekend; I do make an effort to enjoy each day, each day is a gift, blah blah blah, but I love the flexibility and family time that the weekends bring. I especially enjoy the food. Fridays are my favourite weeknights because a) they involve wine, and usually lots of it, and b) it’s Greek salad and pita night!

You know those quizzes that say if you could have only one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be? This would be my meal: Greek salad, pita, and hummus. When I was pregnant with my youngest I ate it every other day. It’s just so good! So full of nutritious vitamins, protein, iron, and deliciousness. Most people associate onion with Greek salad but mine is onion-less, due to my dislike of raw onion. And cooked onion. And any onion that is not disguised by being pureed into a dish. It’s not the flavour I abhor, it’s the texture. And so, I give you my Greek salad and hummus recipe.

Greek Salad and Hummus, The Best Dinner of the Week

Chop up a whole bunch of cherry tomatoes, peppers, and cucumbers (I like baby cucumbers but will use regular ones in a pinch). How much? Let’s say two peppers, five baby cucumbers (or most of one Long English), and a LOT of cherry tomatoes. I don’t know how to measure them; a couple of cups, maybe? Add black olives – the pitted Kalamata ones from Costco are the bomb – and some feta cheese. If you’re a non-dairy person, you could make some almond feta. For the dressing I use 1/3 cup olive oil, and then almost 1/3 cup of red wine vinegar and 2-3 tablespoons of balsamic vinegar. I like my dressing ZESTY. Add some garlic powder, basil, and oregano in indiscriminate amounts. Just shake it in there until it looks good. Pour over top and toss.

For the hummus I use a big can of rinsed and drained chickpeas, 1/5 of a pound block of tofu (bear with me here, explanation to follow), 1/4 cup each of lemon juice and olive oil, 2-3 cloves of garlic, a heaping tablespoon of tahini, a teaspoon of cumin, and some salt and pepper. I have no idea how much. Then I blend it all in my food processor until it’s nice and smooth. The tofu makes it super creamy. Usually I buy a block of tofu and freeze it in 1/5ths, individually, and thaw when the need for hummus is imminent. Occasionally I’ve pulsed in roasted red peppers or pitted Kalamata olives, but usually I prefer my plain-Jane version.

I warm up those cute little mini “party” pitas in the oven, and the guys get sauteed chicken breast as well, which I prepare while drinking large glasses of Cabernet Franc.

Photos from my old YMC posts, back when I used to stage my food. Let’s drop some feta artistically on the placemat! And allow the peppers to hover around their chopped up friend!

Who needs a filter when you can crop out your forehead? Yes, that glass does say Queen of Everything; my parents gave it to me for my birthday and I love it!

Eating a Rainbow: Pita Pizzas, Wraps, and Tacos

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God bless the junior high teachers. Yesterday the boys brought home their gym clothes to be washed, and they were much more toxic than normal, thanks to a random kid spraying Axe body spray all over the boys’ locker room and in the tote boxes. My house is now a hazardous waste site. I thought back to my years in junior high and realized that the poor teachers must have put up with all the fumes from our Salon Selectives hairspray, which we would use between classes to keep our vertical bangs at an appropriate stiffness, plus all of our cheap drugstore perfumes, like Love’s Baby Soft and Exclamation. It takes a very special type of person to deal with that age group.

Happy March, everyone! Although it is minus 28 with windchill this morning, at least it isn’t minus 30. This is my new bar. The bar, it is low.

But who wants to talk about the weather? It’s boring and depressing and there is nothing we can do about it anyway, except perhaps sell everything and move to Maui which, frankly, isn’t really all that practical. Bundle up, buttercup. I’m considering a post that would contrast my normal weight with my weight when wearing all my winter gear. It would be an interesting, yet depressing, experiment. Maybe I could take a poll – how much does all my winter gear actually weigh? Well. This is a sad topic.

Let’s talk about food instead! As you know from my weekly meal plan, Wednesdays are generally pita pizza night, and Thursdays are for wraps or tacos. You may notice that as the week goes on my zest for cooking evaporates, so that by the time Thursday comes around, dinner is a very simple affair. Taco Thursday happens about once a month; the rest of the time it’s all about the wrap, which is the simplest dinner to make – literally we can go from zero prep to dinner on the table in about 25 minutes.

Pita Pizzas

No one needs a recipe for this. It is literally the easiest thing to make: buy pitas, put toppings on them, bake. Everyone can have whatever they want on their pizza, making this a very easy way to cater to vegetarians and meat-eaters. I always make extras so that the boys can take them cold in their lunches the next day. Do you know what makes a kid the lunchtime envy of all his friends? PIZZA FOR LUNCH. And these pizzas are way healthier than takeout, as well as being way cheaper. The only person who does not love pita pizza night is my husband, but we can’t have everything we love for dinner all the time. Well, we can, but only if we are making the dinner, and the only person making dinner is ME, which is why all the dinners are things that I personally enjoy. I am a Kitchen Dictator.

Because pita pizzas aren’t veggie-heavy on their own, I serve them with a giant – GIANT – plate of vegetables with dip. We are talking 1 pepper, 3 carrots, A FULL POUND of mushrooms, and broccoli.

I start dinner prep when the boys get home after school. They hang out in the kitchen and eat – as they are walking bottomless pits these days – and tell me about their day. Something about me being occupied with knives and vegetables allows them to open up and chat before they scatter to parts of the house that I am not in. If I could give one piece of parenting teen advice, it would be to figure out WHEN they are willing to chat, and then BE THERE at that time.

Back to the pizza. My own pizza is less of a pizza and more of a pita smothered with as many veggies as I can pile onto it, plus Daiya mozzarella shreds. Most vegan cheese tastes like sadness, but Daiya is…pretty okay. At least it kind of melts. It’s decent and serves the purpose, is what I’m saying. I also put sundried tomatoes on my pizza, which you can’t see, but which elevate the whole thing.

Wow, that does NOT photograph well. This picture reminds me of my Norwegian grandpa; he was, shall we say, not interested in consuming ethnic foods such as pizza. He was noted for saying, when viewing a pizza, “Who threw up on the lefse?” Oh, Grandpa. It’s not like all Norwegian cuisine is something to write home about; let’s not forget such atrocities as lutefisk. Whose idea was it to soak fish in lye and then EAT IT? Between my Norwegian and Scottish roots (HELLO HAGGIS) I’ve really covered all the Gross Food Bases here.

Wraps

Truly the easiest meal in the week; slice up vegetables and saute some chicken in olive oil for the guys. Serve with cheese and salsa for those who like it. I even buy shredded cheese which I never used to do but which ironically is less expensive in the long run as there is no waste, since only 2/4 of us actually eat cheese. I do not use Daiya on these because unmelted cold Daiya is pretty gross. Warm up tortillas and everyone serves themselves. Mine consist of a whole lot of avocado, pepper, and tomato, with heaping spoonfuls of salsa.

Will you look at that avocado? Is there anything better than a perfectly ripe avocado? Is there? Sex, I guess, but not too much else.

Taco Thursday

Not quite as simple as wraps, but almost, Taco Thursday is pretty popular. I use ground chicken for the guys, with just your standard package of taco seasoning. For me, I sprinkle black beans with completely unmeasured amounts of cumin, onion flakes, garlic powder, coriander, and chili powder. I just sprinkle until it looks good to me, and then I squirt some lime on top. Delicious and full of iron, protein, and all those good things that people ask about when you say you don’t eat meat. Where do you get your protein? Those questions always make me want to make ribald and scandalous jokes, but I generally try to refrain.

Today is Friday, which is my favourite meal of the week, and which also includes wine! Hooray! I’ll chat about that next time, and until then, stay warm, my friends! xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Yes, There Are Good Things About February, We Just May Have To Dig A Little Deeper Edition

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You guys, this month is on track to become the coldest February since records began. SINCE RECORDS BEGAN. What is this madness? Every winter there comes a time when I intellectually know that there will be a time and a season after this, but emotionally I cannot register it. Like, it’s just going to be winter forever now, like we are in Game of Thrones and the White Walkers are going to come and kill us all or turn us into similarly zombie-like creatures.

Recently I discovered that some people have a favourite season, and that favourite season is winter, and I just cannot at all comprehend it. We are all different and life is a beautiful complex tapestry, but how is that possible? I suppose winter is different in different places, perhaps instead of months on end of spending a solid five minutes just getting enough outdoor clothing on to dart from the door to the car, it’s a soft wonderland of fluffy snow and moderately cold temperatures, that end in an actual spring. Well, we can dream, and although there is no end in sight to this frigidity, I will remind myself that I am not waiting for the trains to get through, living in danger of starvation and ruining my hands while twisting hay to burn.

Where’s my inner invincible summer?

Anyway, on to more positive things. March begins THIS COMING FRIDAY and at some point, although I cannot imagine it right now, at some point the snow will melt and my sunglasses won’t freeze to my face the way they did yesterday, when I walked the dog. February has the reputation of being a very drab month, but it has really flown by. I mean, the orthodontist mess was only two weeks ago! Poor February, it’s not its fault! It’s a good time to review some favourite things for this month.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Yes, There Are Good Things About February, We Just May Have To Dig A Little Deeper Edition

Hearts!

It seems that as soon as the Santas and reindeer disappear from the shelves, there are hearts wherever we look. I love hearts! I heart hearts! So it’s a great time to think about heart-shaped cookies and cakes, and – as of February 15 – price reduced boxes of chocolates. My husband does not give me anything like that, but he did present me with this run top:

Isn’t it cute? The photo is a bit blurry because I had just finished a run. Some of you may remember that last year, he gave me a run tank that said Bee Mine with a picture of a bee on it, which was life-affirming in every way.

Chocolate

Speaking of chocolate, I still had half a box of After Eights left over from Christmas; I chopped them up and added them to one of our favourite desserts, chocolate mousse pie. It was A VERY GOOD IDEA. If you have some leftover chocolate, or want to use up some cut-rate Valentine’s goodies, this is a fun thing to do.

Isn’t that tea towel cute? I think I got it from Bed Bath and Beyond on a nice little Saturday.

I also made this cake on the weekend – I didn’t use leftover chocolate, but I did layer it with ganache, chocolate buttercream, and raspberry filling, and it was extremely tasty. I’ve been trying to get comfortable with my frosting tips, and although I have a long way to go, I’m slowly improving.

Another recent chocolate dessert was this dairy-free version of my mom’s eclair recipe, which she had gotten from a cookbook that she had in high school. I used coconut oil instead of butter, and whipped coconut cream, and everyone loved them.

It’s Asparagus Season Somewhere

Let’s segue from chocolate to produce, shall we? Is there anything more exciting than seeing the price of produce decline? Probably. But it is a pretty big thing in my life, given how much money I spend on fruit and vegetables every week. It is sure not spring here but it must be somewhere because asparagus is a third of the price it was in January, and just today I was able to buy four pounds of strawberries without feeling faint, particularly since four pounds of strawberries are going to last us between two to three days, if we are lucky, and by “we” I mean “me” because no one else grocery shops in this house. Roasted asparagus though! It’s a promise that spring will be…well…not right around the corner but coming someday. And it’s also on the fast track to Flavour Town.

Flavour Town

My friend (HI TARYN) and I have a running joke about Guy Fieri. Sometimes, because we are wild people, my husband will flip the channel to Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives on a Friday night. I know! Usually by the time he does this I’m either half asleep or half cranked from drinking wine on the couch, but when I see a few minutes of it, I enjoy it. Don’t get me wrong: I find the food featured on it universally disgusting. I spend a lot of time saying My god, how can anyone eat that? but that’s pretty judgmental of me since many people do, voluntarily, and with much enjoyment. However! My favourite part about the show is Guy Fieri’s reaction when he eats the house specialty. He never has a bad thing to say about anything. I really like that. I like that if he doesn’t seem to love something, he merely gives some random description about the food. Wow, there’s a big hit of garlic in this, and I can really taste the cilantro! But if he loves it, it’s a one-way ticket to Flavour Town.

Today I was teaching a class and I noticed one student’s water bottle. After class I asked if I could take a photo of it.

I didn’t ask her why she had this water bottle, I just felt it was enough that it is in existence.

The Year of the Runaways

This book, you guys. This book. Every single spare moment I had, I was reading it. I needed to know what happened, I needed to know how it was going to end, and then when it ended, I was completely bereft. I’m still thinking about it all the time. Can I go back in time and re-read it again for the first time? No. I cannot. I also can’t conceive of what to do now that it’s ended, so I am simultaneously reading Scottish History for Dummies and The Gift of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Are Supposed To Be and Embrace Who You Are. Why am I reading those two books after this amazing piece of art? They were next on my hold list. I’m learning a lot about William Wallace and Robert the Bruce, I’ll say that. Also, that I should ask for help more often.

See? Lots of great things about this month; we just had to look for them. What are your favourite things in February? xo