Category Archives: Hello Calgary

It’s Apple Season! And Snowman Season!

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Ah, fall. The season of colourful leaves, crisp air, apples, and this:

Snow!

Well, to look on the bright side, it’s just a dusting.

I feel like the world is divided into two kinds of people: those who love and embrace summer with all their hearts and souls, and those who do not. People in the latter category, please enjoy your season for the next 8-9 months, and meanwhile, I will be busy putting on legwarmers, scarves, and other layers for eternity. It seems like a very unfair distribution, but what can you do? Complain to the management? Because I don’t feel God will suddenly decide to make Calgary a climate of beauty, just because I complain.

I might complain just a little though, as tomorrow a certain young man is turning thirteen, and there will be a total of ten teen boys in my house for SEVEN HOURS. Why or how this was arranged I do not know, but I was counting on a few hours of let’s go play war with Nerf guns at the playground and so the forecast is, shall we say, disappointing. I am sure none of the parents will judge me for indulging in a glass of wine or two whilst the Festivities Are In Full Swing. My non-drinking husband will be there in case someone loses an eye to a Nerf bullet or, more likely, falls into a sugar coma from the requested Chocolate Layer Cake With Caramel Frosting And Rolos On Top. I think I fell into a sugar coma just writing that. To counterbalance, I have a lot of vegetables to make a veggie plate, to go along with the pizza, star-shaped frosted sugar cookies, and three giant “family-sized” bags of chips. If there’s one thing I know about teen boys, it’s that they are a hungry people.

Now that I have two of them, if anyone needs me, I’ll be grocery shopping. Again.

The happy news about grocery shopping – and about fall in general – is that it is officially Apple Season! Apples are, in my humble opinion, the very best thing about fall, followed closely by pretty leaves and the return of thick black sweaters and tall black boots. I am pretty particular about the type of apples I eat; I am strongly Team Macintosh. We are all, as I tell my children and yoga students constantly, different, and I’m sure that many of you will disagree, but I firmly stand by my opinion that Macs are the Superior Apple. They are the perfect flavour and texture, and I essentially binge eat Macintosh apples the second they hit the produce aisle until they are no longer available. I also like the Scottish name; it is as if the Macs and I are namaste-ing each other in a Scottish way. The Scottish way to namaste is probably Aye Lassie It’s A Broad Bricht Moonlit Nicht Tonich or something similar.

Again, we are all different and the world is a rich tapestry and variety is the spice of life, but when I get excited about Apple Season and someone becomes similarly excited about apple pie, my response is this:

I will not judge you, you lovers of apple pie and apple sauce and apple crisps and other mushy abominations, but I will never understand you. This is the same way I feel when I hear of people making jams and muffins with fresh fruit and berries. Such things are so precious to me that I would never do anything but eat them raw. Muffins and jams, in this house, will always be made with frozen fruit, and I stand by that decision, at least while I live in this godforsaken snowy hellhole.

Oh! But I wasn’t going to complain! Perhaps I shall just go eat an apple and finish frosting all the cookies, and dream about warmer climates instead. Have a wonderful weekend, everyone! Please spare a thought for me tomorrow night. xo

One Thousand

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Can I Get A Witness

I can hardly believe this, but this is – get ready for it – my ONE THOUSANDTH POST. One thousand posts. Can I get a medal or something for this? Very few people old-school blog anymore, but I am glad to have this diary of my life over the past – get ready for it – DECADE. Of course, I could have just kept a regular diary, but what would have been the fun in that? It’s nice to have a witness to this everyday life. Can I get a witness?

The Winner, In A Landslide

As I’ve mentioned before, I often think of the Soundtrack of My Life; it occurred to me the other day that there are songs that are inextricably associated with other people, in my mind. For example, my friend Hannah (HI HANNAH) is linked forever and always with Some Kind of Wonderful, and so now that I have asked if I could get a witness, I will be a) singing that all day, and b) thinking of her. For fun I asked Facebook friends what song reminded them of ME and it was a very interesting experiment. A friend who knew me way back in elementary school mentioned Corey Hart (HI MELISSA), a friend from high school reminded me that we always sang Hello City when we were together in chemistry class (HI TRACY), a friend from university mentioned Total Eclipse of the Heart, the Old School version (HI ALICE), and there was a nice mix of interesting music from friends made in the past decade (HI EVERYBODY). The most common song, however, was Landslide, which is both unsurprising and apt, given this time of year.

This Is Me In Grade Nine

My BFF, who I met in grade nine, (HI TARA) said what reminded her of me was Light My Fire, stemming from that period in which I was obsessed – OBSESSED – with The Doors, and also wearing all-black-all-the-time. Well, my interest in listening to The Doors has certainly diminished to zero, but my all-black fashion statement largely remains.

This is me in grade nine, baby. Yes, my love of black and also excessive jewelry has remained, nearly thirty years after the fact.

Speaking of which, I have had This Is Me In Grade Nine stuck in my head for days – DAYS – because the start of school has ushered in a new era: my oldest is, indeed, in grade nine. I am assuming the same will be true next year at this time as my youngest will be there as well. Usually I have Back To School, Back To School, To Prove To My Dad That I’m No Fool from Billy Madison stuck in my head for days; this is preferable. I got a red leather tie and a pair of rugger pants, I put them on and I went to the high school dance.

This is further proof that my brain is needlessly filled with song lyrics and if I could just channel that brain power I could probably work for NASA.

Dogpression

Barkley knows what packed backpacks in the kitchen means, and he does not like it. Now that we are four days in, he has come to weary acceptance, so long as he can come along for school drop-off.

Winter Games

I have been using the silent house and also the free time before my new registered classes start next week to get a few menial, tedious, and annoying jobs done. These include but are not limited to calling the cable company to order a new remote, necessitating me looking up serial numbers and account numbers and clearing up last name confusion, registering myself and my husband to vote in the upcoming provincial election so as to not have to wait for an enumerator, and calling a certain government agency to ensure an issue that was not caused by anyone in this household but instead someone who we actually paid for their services and still makes me irritated to think about it has been cleared up. (Spoiler: it hasn’t!). Yesterday I was on hold for what seemed like an eternity, only to be redirected a few times before getting the correct person for the job, who ended up completely unable to help anyway. The interesting part of this story, at least to me, was that while I was on hold, the theme from the Calgary 88 Olympics was played. Two things: a) that really took me back in time, and b) is it just me or does that seem like a strange choice of music? The rest of the music was pretty neutral elevator-Kenny G-type music, and then wham! Bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah BAH BAH!

It’s Just Like New Year

September feels like a much milder form of January, doesn’t it? Everyone with their fresh starts and getting back to the gym and making crazy school lunches with bento boxes? I personally have a couple of resolutions for September and on, and one of them is to not use my phone when the boys get home after school. I instituted a “no screens” rule for myself and the boys, although it has since been amended to “no screens until homework, physical exercise, and something creative has been done.” For me, though, it’s no phone at all, unless someone texts or emails me. It’s really helping me be more present, which is an ongoing goal of mine, and also allows me more time to read and play the piano. In fact, it’s given me so much more time that I feel a twinge of shame about my (former) phone habits.

Only 1255 Pages To Go

I have had A Suitable Boy on hold from the library for some time, thanks to a recommendation from my friend Mary-Lynn (HI MARY-LYNN). Imagine my surprise when I went to the library to pick it up and discovered that it is almost 1500 pages long. Hoo boy. I have been keeping a spreadsheet of all my books read, in an attempt to be more like my bibliophile friend Allison (HI ALLISON), and so far this year I have averaged one book every 3.5 days. This is going to mess me up big-time. To add fuel to the reading fire, two more of my holds came in yesterday, so if anyone needs me, I’ll be over there, reading. I know, I know, it’s the journey, not the destination, but I like my current book-to-day average.

I Love Your Pictures

A few months ago, someone had posted on Facebook about how sick they were of seeing photos of other people’s kids, and no one cared, and just keep those photos to yourselves, you terrible attention whores. I’m paraphrasing, but only slightly. Then a friend told me that someone told HER that seeing back-to-school photos was the worst, and if your kids weren’t in kindergarten, then nobody cares. You terrible attention whores.

I am taking this opportunity – this One Thousandth Post opportunity – to say that I CARE. I love seeing all your photos, of your kids, of your pets, of your fancy drinks, of your houses, of your vacations. I love your selfies, your outfits-of-the-day, your bikini shots, your workout shots, your nature shots, I LOVE IT ALL. I want to see MORE updates about your lives, not less. What else are we on social media for? Outraged political updates? I think we have enough of those. After all, look how well all those political posts pre-US-election turned out.

I mean, I even love seeing photos of what you had for dinner, so long as it’s not already digested. Which brings me to this travesty:

You Know How I Feel About This Emoticon

People, this is a bridge too far. TOO FAR.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: August 2018

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The thing about writing an old-school blog for ten years (TEN YEARS, PEOPLE) is that I receive a lot of pitches from people who have clearly never read my blog. This is to be expected; PR people aren’t exactly scouring through archives to find the perfect fit for a perfect product – who has the time for that? Their job is just to Hail Mary emails, and hope someone catches it. Despite never having done a sponsored or guest post on this blog, I receive pitches for both every day, and usually they are so ridiculous that I do not even respond. However, a pitch I received a few weeks ago was something beyond ridiculous.

Hello, Nicole, it started, We would love for you to do a product review or giveaway on your website!

The product in question was a kit that would help me conceive sooner. This kit, the pitch said, is an all-in-one, natural, proven solution for mommies-to-be conceive sooner and easier than ever before! 

I would also receive bonus gifts: 20 early results pregnancy tests and 20 one-step ovulation steps.

Jesus, take the wheel.

I was more surprised to get that pitch than I was when someone asked if I’d like to try their new brand of beef jerky. I’m sure that PR person is just trying to do her job, and who knows, maybe she thought I had a Sarah and Abraham situation going here, rather than a trying-to-multiply-loaves-for-my-ever-hungry-teenagers.

On that note…it’s time for Nicole’s Favourite Things! As always, I have received nothing for free and I’m certainly not being paid for this; anything I write about is just something I love and I want to share with you.

Nicole’s Favourite Things – August

This Sweater

The end of August is, most definitely, fall. In fact, all of August feels a little bit that way to me; I can feel a tiny chill in the air on warm days, and I definitely feel cold in the mornings. By now I have taken my boots out of the closet and am starting to layer my clothes yet again.

I bought this sweater years ago – maybe five or six years ago? – from Lululemon and I do not wear it very often because a) it’s cream, and b) those adorable drapey bits really get in the way of day-to-day life. However, it’s perfect for a chilly morning at the zoo, which is where this photo was taken. It layers nicely, but is very light, so I only wear it in not-yet-winter months. Years ago I wore this to the playground for school pickup, but I was wearing a coat over top. A friend came up to me to quietly whisper that I had toilet paper hanging out of my pants, which ended the era of wearing this sweater underneath a coat. In any case, I love it but wear it seldom, because there are very few months in Calgary that I do not wear a coat.

Primer

Why, why, why has no one ever told me about primer? I was in Shopper’s the other day buying some of my favourite Smashbox BB Cream, because there was a special PC Optimum points bonus on beauty products and let me tell you, I couldn’t pass it up. The salesgirl gave me a sample of Smashbox Primer, and after some lengthy discussion with her – what is primer, why would I use it? – I bought some to try. See also: PC Optimum bonus points.

I do not think it is an exaggeration to say that it was a revelation. It’s a whole new world, people.

So here’s the thing: primer is used to “smooth and blur” but also to help your makeup last longer. Now, I don’t know how “smooth and blurred” I am – it’s not like I’m walking around in soft-focus like Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca, or even just an Instagram filter – but I can tell you that it does help makeup last. I put it to the test last week when I took the kids and their friends to the local amusement park. Five hours outside in the smoky sunshine? With an extra layer of sunscreen? Here’s the before, completely unfiltered, taken just after applying makeup, at about 8:00 am:

And here’s the after, taken at about 3:00 pm.

Frankly, that’s pretty amazing. I usually retouch my makeup a couple of times a day, but for the sake of an honest review I did not, and I also don’t think I really had to.

SpaRitual

I get pedicures once or twice a year, and the place I go to uses SpaRitual polish. I’ve been purchasing the Soulful colour for my toes for years; I do my own pedicures normally, going to the spa is a treat I save for Mother’s Day, and maybe just before a beach vacation. I like to have my feet looking nice because they are on display daily. I’m sure no one is really looking at my feet when I teach, but I liken it to wearing nice underwear; no one else might know, but I do.

I don’t know why I’ve been buying the fancy polish for my toes and substandard drugstore polish for my fingernails, but here we are. A few weeks ago it occurred to me that the SpaRitual polish lasts forever, barely chips, and looks great, so why do I only use it for pedicures? Particularly when I have trouble finding the perfect polish in a drugstore? When I was at the spa for a wax, I had a long and detailed conversation with the esthetician about my fingernails and their propensity for chipping, peeling, and splitting. I ended up buying SpaRitual in Idyllic, which I thought was a nice complement to Soulful, along with the special top coat. It is, in my mind, the perfect neutral polish, which is something I legitimately search for and spend time thinking about.

Ignoring my bony, old-lady hands, don’t my nails look nice? I was a serial nail biter until I was about 23 and had my first professional job. The secret, for me, to keep from biting my nails is to always have a nice polish on them. SpaRitual is longer-lasting than most polishes, plus it’s vegan!

Special shout-out to my friend Amy and her beautiful mala bracelets. Check out her Etsy shop!

Pandas

Save me your speeches about zoos, I took the kids to see the pandas at the zoo and you guys, look:

HE’S HAVING A SNACK.

If there is anything cuter than a big fat panda, I do not know what is. Oh, wait.

Who’s a good doggy?

Nicole’s Favourite Things: July Is The Best Edition

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It has been another glorious summer week; summers are so short in this city that I feel like I need to soak up every moment outside. Hence, the writing of this at 6:30 am on a Saturday morning. I realized that I started this blog in 2008 which is a decade of having a whole lot to say about not a whole lot. My friend Lynn (HI LYNN) thought that maybe us “old-school mom bloggers” should now morph into “perimenopause bloggers” which, maybe we should. Speaking of EMOTIONS, the other morning I was practicing yoga and a girl rolled out her mat beside me. She had a shirt that said “When It’s Dark Look For Stars” and I got teary-eyed. Getting emotional over a tank top is probably one of those Change of Life things that no one talks about, UNTIL NOW.

And speaking of tank tops, only ten more days until my goddamn shopping challenge is done. Then I shall buy all the emotional tank tops I want. August 1st, lululemon sees a spike in sales like never before, analysts cannot explain it. It all seemed to come out of the Calgary area.

Truthfully though, I was in the mall yesterday to choose a hostess gift, and the tea store is just down from lululemon, and I am not made of stone. I thought I would browse the store and just make a mental shopping list for The Big Day. Reader, there was nothing I wanted to buy. Either the shopping challenge has fundamentally changed me or all the current styles and colours are unappealing, or both. I was gravely disappointed. I felt like Rip van Winkle but with clothes, like the whole world has moved on to crop tops and tucking things in and I just am not prepared for that right now.

Also, why so many things with an exposed back? As I said summer is brief here, and I will enjoy this six weeks of feeling warm but come August, I will be layering up again. I do not want my back exposed; in a similar vein, I also never embraced the cold shoulder look. I am already cold enough, thank you.

This post has taken a turn for the negative; let’s get back to the point which was…

Nicole’s Favourite Things: July Is The Best Edition

Sirius XM Radio

There is a pattern in my marriage, and it goes like this: my husband has an idea of something he wants to buy for me/ our family/ our house, and I resist it with all my might. We do not NEED that, I will say. This conversation, such as it is, will go on for any length of time; weeks to years of back-and-forth. Finally my husband will break down and buy it/ install it and I will end up loving it so much so that I cannot imagine life without it. Repeat, ad infinitum. The single time that I myself had to convince my husband that we needed to buy something was when we purchased the trampoline.

I am a dream to be married to, believe me.

A small list of the items that have been purchased in this way are: Roomba, my stand mixer, my super-fancy dehydrator, the juicer, the Vitamix, my Yamaha piano, the elliptical machine, and Sonos. We have had Sonos, with Sirius XM Radio in the house for years, and my husband also has it in his car for his commute to work. I have steadfastly refused the installation of Sirius in my minivan, although mine is the vehicle that we take on long road trips, meaning that once we lose local radio stations, we end up listening to the same mix CD’s over and over. Some of those mix CD’s were made years ago and there is only so much of Gangnam Style one can listen to on one road trip. Finally my husband put Sirius in my car and people, I cannot ever go back to regular radio. I can listen to 70s soft rock without hearing commercials for Grey Power Insurance or Nurse Next Door or even My Pillow Dot Com. I already bought the damn pillow.

There’s also a Yacht Rock station, and the 80s on 8 frequently plays “on this day in 198x” countdowns. When I was driving to pick up the kids from my parents’ place, I was delayed by a big accident, and listening to the top songs of July 1986 made everything better. I had my own little karaoke party with The Greatest Love of All.

Breville Food Processor

I don’t know how long I’ve had my old Cuisinart food processor – since 2011 maybe? Or 2010? I don’t know. All I know is one day I was going to pulse some tomatoes into my guacamole and instead of pulsing the processor just kept going. It wouldn’t turn off until I unplugged it. I still used it like that for a while, plugging it in when I needed to process something, but it felt weird and dangerous. I thought I would just get another Cuisinart but my husband – who used to get Consumer Reports back in the day – had been researching it and thought I might like to try a Breville.

Oh, baby.

It was like all those years I was driving a Ford Focus, and now I have a Maserati.

It processes much better – the Cuisinart always left little chunks where the blade didn’t touch the bottom – and it is also so easy to clean! The Cuisinart had a rubber seal and lots of little crevices that were impossible to keep clean, which felt a little gross. This is my new bae. I’d make out with it if it wouldn’t slice my face to a pulp.

These Old Jeans

Thanks to Facebook memories, this photo popped up in my feed the other day.

It was from exactly ten years ago, and you might be thinking awww, what cute little guys. I am thinking that too, but I’m also thinking, hey, I’m wearing those jeans right now. Yes, these old jeans are at least a decade old – I don’t know when I bought them – and I’m still wearing them. Now that I’m looking at that photo, I realize that I still have and wear those shoes.

My god, August 1 cannot come soon enough. Although, it is a testament to how I buy things that last. No one could say that I’m a “disposable fashion” kind of girl, that’s for sure.

Dog Calendar

My mom gave me a Labradoodle calendar for Christmas, and every month features an absolutely adorable dog. Not as adorable as this one, mind you:

Look at that FACE. WHO’S A GOOD DOGGY. WHO’S THE BEST DOGGY.

But the month of July features this dog:

It puts me in mind of a 1980s glamour shot. It makes me smile every time I see it, which is good because…

Neutrogena Rapid Repair

This photo of me was taken exactly forty years ago:

I love it so much, not just because of my great fashion, but because I so clearly am thinking I will pet this sheep but I will not enjoy it and you cannot make me. My friend Janet (HI JANET) mentioned that I still make this face, which explains a lot regarding my perpetual Bitchy Resting Face. No wonder I have such an epic case of BRF, I have been working on it my whole life.

Several months ago I posted about my favourite Growing Old Gracefully things, and one of those things was Neutrogena Rapid Repair Night Cream. My friend Liv (HI LIV) mentioned that she uses the one that is SPF 30 and meant for day use. Liv has perfect skin so I thought I would try it as well, and people, my skin has never looked better. It is truly amazing. I still, of course, have BRF – no amount of retinol is going to reverse 43 years worth of that face. Nothing, short of massive plastic surgery, is going to do that. But it’s a fantastic cream and I highly recommend it. I also recommend looking at glamour dog shots frequently to keep smiling, keep shining.

That’s also my favourite sunscreen, for the six weeks of high UV index that we get per summer.

So that’s that. What are you loving this July, tell me everything. xo

Unmoored

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The boys have been visiting my parents this week, and I don’t mind telling you that I have spent this week feeling greatly unmoored, particularly yesterday. I had no classes to teach yesterday and it was a moon day, which meant no early morning yoga either. I spent a few hours just wandering around the house, drinking coffee and looking at social media, until I decided that I should probably go to spin class, if for no other reason then to get out of the house at a specific time.

From all accounts, the boys have been having an Epic Week, which is to be expected when visiting indulgent grandparents who live on a lake with access to every kind of fun thing you can imagine. During last night’s phone call, they informed my husband that yesterday they a) went mini-golfing, b) went to the Aquasplash, c) had ice cream at the local parlor, and d) went for dinner at a restaurant specializing in chicken wings. If there could be anything better for young teen boys, I do not know what it could be.

After class today I am heading up there myself, and am crossing my fingers that the extreme thunderstorms will hold off for a few hours after I get there, so I can also have some fun in the sun. It’s been beautiful and hot here, the garden is in full bloom with riotous colours, life is good.

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I recently read one of the best books I have EVER read, and that is really saying something. It’s called The Women In The Castle, and a student had recommended it to me a month or so ago. The description seemed pretty meh, to be honest, and I had just finished a bunch of very depressing reads. For those interested in depressing reads: Nearly Normal, which deals with the most dysfunctional childhood you can imagine, living off the grid for years with her clinically insane grandfather, then squatting in abandoned places with her mother while her mother has sex with near-strangers right beside her, and as much drug use as you might expect for such a story, in the 1970s. After that was Educated, another crazy dysfunctional childhood with an absolutely nutjob set of parents. Both of these books are testaments to human resiliency but honest to god, they are also so sad. Finally, I read Diana: Her Story and I have much to say about that, but will save it for later. Shortly thereafter, I got around to reading Lilac Girls, which my mother had lent me and which deals with Nazi experimentation on Polish women in a concentration camp, which pretty much finished me off, mentally. I considered reading the Sweet Valley High box set I had found as a countermeasure, but I had a few library books come in.

So I had mentioned in a class that I had read these depressing books and needed a pick-me-up, and a student came up to me after class and recommended The Women In The Castle. I dutifully put it on my library hold list, but it a) deals with Nazi Germany, and b) I wasn’t sure that it sounded like an uplifting, life-affirming book. When it came into the library I reluctantly started it, and then found I couldn’t put it down. What a wonderful, incredible, thought-provoking book. Believe me when I say you will not regret reading this, even if you are not a fan of historical fiction.

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Speaking of historical fiction, I was thinking about the movie Forrest Gump yesterday. It’s been 24 years since that movie came out; I loved it then and I still love it now. The other day I came across this question: what’s your favourite little moment in a big movie? We all know I’ll have what she’s having, but what about Don’t fuck with Mr. Zero and Someone is staring at you in Personal Growth? Those are perfect moments in a perfect movie. Actually, When Harry Met Sally is full of perfect moments. However, if I have to choose one small scene in a big movie, I would have to go with this one in Forrest Gump: when Forrest finds himself listening to a Black Panther talk about the war in Vietnam, and he is watching Jenny’s boyfriend yelling at Jenny from across the room. The douchebag smacks her and Forrest goes mental, all the while Hey Joe is playing to a crescendo. That, in my opinion, is a scene of perfection.

There’s another small moment prior to that, when Jenny introduces her gross boyfriend to Forrest, who is all dressed up and decorated in his uniform. The boyfriend says “Who’s the baby-killer?” and it occurred to me yesterday, that guy would fit in perfectly on twitter.

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Just now, I looked at twitter. There was a recipe, and I am not joking here, for Red Velvet Corn Dogs. I thought for certain that it must be a mistake, or maybe one of those cutesy recipes in which a cupcake is shaped like a corn dog but no. No. The recipe calls for, among other things, red velvet cake mix and a 10-count package of hot dogs, so the apocalypse is officially on us. Also, 2 quarts of canola oil, for frying. “Enjoy with your favourite dipping sauce!” is the note that the recipe cheerfully ends on. Enjoy. With your favourite dipping sauce.

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A few weeks ago, I was in the baking section of my beloved local Co-Op when I saw this:

Whoops! I know that, come fall, everything will be pumpkin spice this and pumpkin spice that, but this is a bridge too far, in my mind. Perhaps the Red Velvet Corn Dog people might find this useful and inspiring. Mark my words, we shall soon see Pumpkin Spice Refried Bean Pie, if this is any indication.

Hopes and Dreams, Flushed.

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In this day and age of click-bait, article headlines can be very misleading. Ten fashion mistakes that are aging! Six tips to make life better – you won’t believe number three! This woman switched lemon water for coffee and you won’t believe what happened (murder). 

It’s refreshing, then to come across an article that is perfectly summarized by the headline such as this one on the CBC website:

There are just so many things to say. One small detail though: it may be summer, and the rest of the country might be sweltering in a heat wave, but this earlier this week I had to turn on the furnace, so being naked in that weather seems like a poor choice. Well, that and possible theft of a Canada Post vehicle.

In any case, perhaps Canada Post vehicles are equipped with seat warmers. That is one image that I do not want to dwell on, so let’s move on.

The weather has turned now – just in time for Stampede, and if I may, let me direct you to my archived posts about dressing for the event, plus a shot of my rarely worn cowboy boots – and so yesterday we went to the local amusement park. It is our tradition to go on the first day of summer vacation, but that week was so weirdly set up, and also the weather was, shall we say, poor. For Canada Day weekend we were at my parents’ place at the lake – another tradition – and it was lovely, lots of fun, but the weather kiboshed some of our plans. We put the paddleboards in for the 2018 inaugural paddle, and had been in only twenty minutes before the rain – followed by hail – started.

Anyway, yesterday was a perfect day for the amusement park, and my friend (HI TARYN) came along with us which was a nice bonus for me. She captured my feelings about bumper cars perfectly in this shot:

GAME ON, you little fuckers.

Here I am, trash talking my own son.

My friend and I spent some time discussing something I’ve thought of often: how insane will the employees be by the end of the summer, saying the exact same thing every few minutes, only to be completely disregarded by patrons of the park? I have wondered this about Disney and Universal employees before as well – how many times a day can a person say “No running in the ride area” before they completely lose their reason? I mean, I say “watch your knees” about a hundred times a week, but it seems different somehow.

I was wondering about the bumper cars employees in particular, because no matter what they say, the rules are always completely disregarded. First, there is a great deal of signage all over the ride and lineup that states that no child under a certain height will be allowed to ride under any circumstances. The bumper cars have no seatbelts, and I imagine a small child could literally be tossed out of the car with a particularly boisterous bump. And yet. And yet every single time there is a parent with a tiny child who looks COMPLETELY SURPRISED and taken aback when the employee tells them the child cannot ride.

Second, the rule is that all cars need to drive in a clockwise fashion, in order to eliminate head-on collisions and, presumably, lawsuits. Every single time there is at least one park patron going in the wrong direction, ostensibly to cause head-on collisions. Every single time. Once, last year, the employee actually STOPPED the ride and refused to start it again until the appropriate direction was taken. Clearly the breaking point was reached for that fellow, like Michael Douglas in Falling Down.

Perhaps the signage in the ladies’ washroom was meant for the employees of the park:

You cannot flush hopes and dreams, people. Even if you find yourself in a terrible summer job where no one listens to you. The key, I think, is probably to just stop caring.

Oh, summer jobs. I was talking with some friends about the worst summer jobs we ever had and mine, hands down, was the summer that I was a beer sample girl. If you want to be harassed for your entire shift, ad infinitum, this is the job for you! I finally quit when the company got a Busch beer contract and I was required to wear a bathing suit to work. I mean, I got hassled enough wearing clothes; I could not feature what would happen if I was standing there, in a chilly room, wearing nothing but a swimsuit and heels. Even Miss America doesn’t do that anymore.

Do not tiptoe through my tulips

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It’s so strange to think that a month ago, the ice and snow had yet to melt from the backyard; the whole space is now growing, greening up, and blooming. Every single day I am out in the garden, weeding and watering and just staring at my plants, marvelling at the Miracle of Nature, and every single day there is something new growing, greening up, or blooming. Every single day I find myself humming that song from Beauty and the Beast, there’s something there that wasn’t there before, which is actually way more irritating from an earworm perspective than having Ride Like The Wind stuck in my head for five days straight.

Everything is growing well with the notable exception of my tulips. All through the neighbourhood, tulips in all colours and sizes are riotously blooming, teasing me with their beauty. My own tulips – the few that were left after the squirrels ate most of them – are the saddest specimens on the planet, or at least in the neighbourhood. Not one of them has a bloom or even a bud; the foliage is all flattened down to the ground, limp and pathetic. My husband thought maybe it was the location of the tulips, but no. That doesn’t explain it since they are all around the yard in different sun exposures. Is something destroying them specifically? All the other plants are healthy and thriving. Maybe I’m just the worst tulip gardener in the city; maybe they are faulty tulips, maybe something is specifically targeting and squishing them. All I know is that I am doomed to never have tulip blooms and I should just cut my losses and expectations.

See? That’s what all my tulips look like, as if a small anvil dropped from the sky and flattened them. I just don’t understand my Tulip Inadequacy.

I suppose that’s enough on that topic; after all, I’m sure you didn’t come here to read about my Tulip Failures. Or did you? I shouldn’t presume anything. All I know is that Junebug (HI JUNEBUG) asked me about my “Mom Book” – the old-school agenda that I write everything in: appointments, chores, classes, meal plans, and everything else pertaining to my life. Well, Junebug, your wish is my command! Here is the book, which I purchase every year at Chapters.

Bonus shot of my pedicure. It’s a 16 month calendar – although I usually do the switch-over in November – and there is plenty of room in the back for notes, important numbers, business cards, and the like. I usually have all the pertinent school notices stuck in there, along with things like the dog’s license and various receipts for anything done on the house.

It also has each month set out, and I use this to record the classes that I teach, in order to properly invoice.

When I choose my new daytimer every year, I spend time thinking about the cover, and the design, and if it’s pretty, but frankly, it stays open on my countertop and I never actually see the cover so this thought process could be for naught.

Here is what my week looks like usually the week before: a few classes, what I’m going to make for dinner each night, maybe an appointment, some notes regarding school trips, and – in the case of this past weekend – an important televised event in the way of the ROYAL WEDDING.

Side note: did you watch it? I set my alarm for four and shot awake at 3:50, because my little-known superpower is waking up before my alarm goes off.

Anyway, the week often looks pretty bare until it starts. Every week I think “oh, it’s going to be a quiet week” and every week my days are full, full, full.

What I like about this particular layout is that there are squares for different family members, although I never actually use it that way.

Note the grocery list above. I am just going to tell you my other little-known superpower: very little food-wise goes to waste in this house, and it is entirely due to meal planning and compulsive grocery lists. That notepad keeps running lists for Superstore, Costco, Co-Op, and Walmart, and I deviate very little from those lists. I know many people rely on their phones for their schedules and shopping lists but I don’t know, I guess I need the analog version. I need to be able to WRITE IT DOWN.

That concludes my organizational tips for the day: WRITE EVERYTHING DOWN AND DO NOT DEVIATE. Come hell or high water, when I write down we are having a stir-fry for dinner, WE ARE HAVING A STIR-FRY FOR DINNER. I write down little chores that I need to do, even if I do them regularly, because it is eminently satisfying to look at everything written down for the day and know that I accomplished those things.

I’m too structured, I’m completely closed off.

But in a good way!

Well, I have “make hummus” written down for this afternoon and that hummus is not going to make itself, people. Have a wonderful weekend! xo