Category Archives: Hello Calgary

Fun with the Sears Catalogue

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This was the view out my back door last week:

It has been cold and snowy forever, I think.  In reality it has been more like three and a half weeks, but it feels like forever.  At least the sun came out yesterday, which makes me feel less like stabbing people who complained about the summer heat, and more like taking the kids sledding.

 
 

I am someone who is hyper-organized when it comes to winter gear.  All outerwear is tried on, and necessary items purchased, by the first week of September at the very latest.  This is normally a very good thing: I am ready for when the weather drops twenty degrees overnight, I am not scrambling to find matching mittens, I know that my kids will fit into their designated snowpants.  But recently it backfired: the children’s feet had a sudden growth spurt in late September, and it was difficult for them to get their giant flipper feet in and out of their boots.  Rather than search the mall and become frustrated at the lack of sizes, choices, and temperature ratings, I always order winter boots online from Sears.

I went to pick up my order on the weekend, and there was a lovely cross-section of Sears shoppers at the catalogue office: a young couple buying a bedroom suite, a woman talking excitedly about the arrival of a new grandchild and the need to purchase a crib, a crotchety old man, and me.  The old man at first endeared himself to me by referring to me as “young lady” but then made things uncomfortable by lighting into the lady at the counter about an $0.81 discrepancy on his bill.

It was minus 24 with windchill last Friday, and yet I allowed myself to be peer pressured into walking my dog with my much hardier friends.  I felt somehow that I deserved some sort of medal for trudging through the heavy snow in the cold.  Or maybe I just need a better coat.  The one I have right now is very warm and huge; wearing it is like being wrapped in a comforter, as shown in this (old) picture:

but yet it isn’t quite long enough.  I was mentioning this to my friend, who suggested that perhaps I have reached the stage of womanhood of wearing ankle length, pastel coloured puffy coats, with ruched sleeves.  It occured to me then, not for the first time, that clothing really goes in stages of life, and I am sliding down the slippery slope from “fashionable” to “practical and I don’t care what I look like.”  The next step after that is wearing caftan-type nighties and matching velour housecoats.  




Although maybe not.  I’m more of a pajama girl, anyway. 

It’s funny, though.  I was thinking about my teen and university years, when I would wear miniskirts and crop sweaters year-round, with light jackets and no scarves.  Now I’m wearing the down-filled equivalent of a burkha.  I saw a young girl walk by my house last week, in the bitter cold, with an open jacket, a skirt and BARE LEGS.  I had to hold myself back from running outside and bundling her up.  I see girls like this and I say things – out loud, and directly to said girls – like “Oh dear, you look cold.  Don’t you have some mittens?”  In other words, I have turned into my own grandma.  I sure hope the next step isn’t wearing these:

The first sweater is advertised as a “face-framing” sweater for ultimate face-framing flattery.  The other two are called “fooler” sweaters, and I would like to know why.  Wait.  I just answered my own question – it is due to the “double cross-over collar” which “fools” people into thinking that you are wearing two “shirts”.  I got a little crazy with the quotation marks there, but can you blame me?  That poor blonde woman is staring at me with angst, probably because she is modelling a sweater with cardinals on it.

I’m pretty sure I’ll never wear one of those sweaters – they don’t come in black – but I can’t be sure I won’t be rocking the nursing home in one of these:


That model is WAY too young for a leopard-print tunic blouse.  I can see myself wearing this, with my bleeding lipstick and my super artificial red hair, my open-toed pumps, and these slacks:

There are a lot of pluses to being in the “slacks” stage of life, the biggest one being elastic waist bands.  Although that’s kind of a moot point for anyone who is often found to be wearing yoga pants.  The only difference between these slacks and yoga pants, really, is the fabric.  Another plus to these slacks is that you would never have “whale tail”.  Of course, I’m not sure thongs would be the undergarment of choice once the slacks stage of life has been reached.  I’m guessing the appropriate panty would be more like this one:

 
Or this one, for less fancy occasions:
 

Those are touted as “anti-static panties” which I find very, very amusing for very, very inappropriate reasons.

Nicole’s Favourite Things; Fall Edition

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I am very cross right now for a variety of reasons, amongst them a) my dog is sick with kennel cough, which he got FROM his kennel cough vaccination, and now I am faced with a new life as someone who does not want to vaccinate her dog, b) I have had to check the yard constantly “in case” Barkley develops diarrhea, and it is gross to be constantly checking dog poop, c) there are UNSOLVABLE issues with the upcoming book fair due to the fact that the school’s Remembrance Day holiday is not the same as the one that Scholastic (and, apparently, the rest of the world) is observing, d) the unsolvable issue was brought to my attention only AFTER I had sent out a cheery “would you like to volunteer?” email about it, e) I had a very awkward conversation with the developmentally slow grocery carryout guy today about suicide, which is NOT a conversation I wish to have in the three minutes it takes to put my groceries in the car, and f) it is not slated to be above zero degrees Celcius any day this week.  I AM COLD. 

I know, I know, there are bigger problems in the world.  Wah, wah, wah, and my diamond ring is too heavy for my hand, my bed of money had a lump in it, and I am just TOO beautiful. 

Still, I am in a crabby kind of mood, so I’m going to turn things around by saying WWOD (What Would Oprah Do?). 

Welcome to Nicole’s Favourite Things, the Fall Edition!


This sweater and those boots.  When fall (or, as we say in YYC, the start of the unending winter) arrives with its crisp chill, it’s a sign for me to break out the black sweaters!  This one is my new favourite.  I got it on the “We Made Too Much” clearance section from Lululemon, and it’s warm, long, and wraps around in a snuggly way.  These boots I got for half price during the Boxing Week sales from a place that I cannot recall.  Longtime readers will remember these as the “Puss in Boots” ones.  It’s a bargain of an outfit!  I think I even bought the jeans on sale.  Thriftiness in the Boyhouse!  Relatively speaking.

Those are beehives in the background.  Related: my neighbour keeps bees in her backyard and she always gives me some of her very excellent honey, to say thank you for my flowers.  Hey, it’s a two-way street; her bees make my flowers awesome, and so Taryn’s honey is on my favourite things list!


That’s her photo, by the way.  Did I mention I love this girl? 

I bought this set of three dishtowels (I know, DISHTOWELS are on my favourite things list) and they make me smile whenever I look at them, which is often, since I spend half my life in the kitchen.  They say “They Fell In Love”, “They Got Married”, and “They Lived Happily Ever After.”  Aw.  They were probably meant for a wedding shower gift, but I bought them for myself and no regrets.  Happily ever after.  I always smile when I look at that, and imagine myself in a fairy-tale like existence, and think I AM living happily ever after!  Then I go look for dog diarrhea and the mood dissipates somewhat.


Calgary is very dry year-round, but especially so in fall and winter.  I go through a lot of lotion and hand cream, and the scents from Bath and Body Works are enough to turn you into one of those creepy “Smell My Finger” guys.  But in a good way.  Twilight Woods, Cherry Blossom, and, separate from regular Cherry Blossom, JAPANESE Cherry Blossom are my current favourite scents.

That reminds me, I have been meaning to post pictures of my renovated bathroom.  Next time, okay?

My mother-in-law is a mad knitter, and she knitted me this scarf that I think is fabulous.

Fluffy, cute, and goes perfectly with a black sweater!

It was my husband’s birthday this weekend, and I made him a reduced-sugar apple crisp for his birthday, in keeping with his low-sugar dietary restrictions.  We’re such a fun couple.  Want to invite us over for dessert?  He can’t have sugar, I can’t have dairy.  Game on!  Anyway, I made him an apple crisp, although I think that cooked fruit is, quite frankly, a waste of fruit.  One of my favourite fall things is fresh, farmer’s market McIntosh apples! 


I keep our surplus apples in the crawl space.  Right next to the hall paint, apparently. 

Another thing I love about fall: pumpkins!

Those giant pumpkins were on sale for $0.19/pound.  Apparently procrastination pays off.  I am going to be roasting a lot of pumpkin seeds this weekend!

I also love making chocolate chip pumpkin loaf, and butternut squash bisque.  Lately I’ve been making that soup with coconut milk and coconut oil instead of whipping cream and butter, and it is pretty fabulous. 

So those are my favourite things about fall.  What are yours? xoxo

What kind of monster have I become?

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It’s a beautiful autumn day here in YYC!

Did you just cry a little?  Yeah, me too.  Less than two weeks ago, this was the scene:

Jake, climbing our tree, wearing shorts.  Not shown in this photograph is the total heart attack I was having and trying to conceal.  “Wow, honey, you’re a really great climber!” is what I said.  “I am going to dial 9-1 and wait to dial the other 1.  I think I’m having palpitations!” is what I was thinking.  That was silly of me, because Jake DID lose his footing, but instead of falling he gripped the tree with both arms and both legs, hanging upside down, boasting the whole time about his superior climbing and monkey skills. 

It’s funny, the things you never think you’ll do or say that you end up doing or saying.  Things such as “Get down from there or you’ll break your neck!”  Or cleaning your child’s dirty face with your own saliva.  Just writing that down, I am revolted with my own motherly self.  And yet who among us hasn’t done this?  Who among us hasn’t retorted with the ever-popular “Because I said so, THAT’S WHY.”  Who among us hasn’t pretended to listen to their child’s steady stream of chatter and nodded absently and unmindfully?

Sometimes I wonder about the person I have become.  I look at my life and I wonder what happened to me.  For example, yesterday I was at the mall.  The mall.  On a snowy, windy, October afternoon.  All I’m going to say is, so many crying babies.  Not that I’m judging – I’ve been there before, the young mom desperate just to get out of the house.  Still.  Anyway, I was at the mall, and I saw a pink Star Wars t-shirt in my size and I considered purchasing it.  I really did.  I actually picked it up, then after a minute, I set it down again, mourning the little piece of me that died when I considered buying a pink Star Wars t-shirt for my 37 year old self.

What have I become?  I also marvelled at myself when I intervened in an argument between the children.  They were, uncharacteristically, bickering when Jake suddenly burst into tears.  The reason for the outburst was that Mark told him that of all the planets, he hated Tattooine the most.  This soul-destroying information just couldn’t be unsaid.  I spoke with Mark, and my exact words, my EXACT WORDS were “Honey, that really hurt Jake’s feelings.  How would you feel if he said he hated Naboo?” 

Who am I?

Another example of my burgeoning lameness is that the other day I purchased a bottle of Mrs. Dash.  I have always associated Mrs. Dash with the elderly who have been required by their health care providers to adopt a low-sodium diet.  I am now, apparently, a person who seasons food with Mrs. Dash.  I don’t even know what to think of this, except that I sprinkled it on my avocado-and-tomato quesadilla yesterday, and it was delicious. 

Other things that my former self would not have conceived of doing: spending hours photocopying things and becoming proficient at fixing paper jams, secretly becoming panicky and tiger-momish when my child gets four points docked on a bar graph unit test for not showing all the work, becoming sad when unable to obtain oven mitts that match my apron, and wondering if the socks-over-jeans-but-under-boots would be a good look for me. 

A Farewell to Foggy

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The boys and I had been planning a trip to the zoo today, with my mom, for the past week.  It would be our last zoo trip of the summer, and so Jake was especially excited to see his favourite animal, Foggy the hippo.  When I say “favourite animal”, I mean that Jake felt that he had a special bond with Foggy, and that Foggy communicated to him via telepathic signals, ear wiggling, and honking.  Every time we visited Foggy, the hippo would inevitably wiggle his ears and honk, and Jake was convinced that it was for his benefit alone.  Some of the things Foggy would say to Jake via these messages and the telepathic communications were “Hello, friend!” and “I love you, Jake!” and “You’re my favourite person!”.  I did nothing to discourage this; after all, Jake is someone does not believe in the Tooth Fairy or Santa Claus, and so believing that he was special to this hippo, the oldest zoo resident and also one of the oldest hippos in the world was magical indeed. 

Then yesterday, we heard the news that Foggy died.

Jake and Foggy, 2010

Jake and Foggy, 2012

You might think that the loss of a zoo animal, especially one who would be 47 in a few weeks – just two days after Jake’s own seventh birthday – would not be a huge deal.  But it really was.  I heard the news and then, thinking about our zoo trip, went to prepare Jake.

The Five Stages of Grief

Denial.  After telling Jake, he seemed unaffected at first.  He said he still wanted to visit the hippo enclosure.  It wasn’t until he saw the story on the six o’clock news that he seemed to think it was real.

Anger.  On the news, they explained that due to health complications stemming from his very advanced age (most hippos in captivity live to their mid-thirties, in the wild their lifespan is much shorter) Foggy had to be euthanized.  Have you ever tried to explain euthanasia to a child?  It didn’t go well.  “THEY KILLED FOGGY!” he yelled, punching the couch.

Bargaining.  After discovering that Foggy had fathered seven offspring, Jake felt that one of them should be brought to the zoo, at all costs.

Depression.  Predictably, around bedtime, Jake completely broke down.  “I just can’t stop being sad,” he sobbed.  “It’s okay, honey,” I said, “You can be sad as long as you want.”  The zoo trip started out all right this morning: Jake and Mark were happy showing their grandma the penguin display, the dinosaur park, and the Canadian Wilds.  Then we went to the hippo enclosure.  Jake refused to look at Sparky, the remaining hippo, and on leaving the enclosure he said that he didn’t care what animals we saw next, because no animal would ever wiggle their ears at Jake again.  He was fairly listless though the other displays, he brightened only a little when Grandma bought some soft-serve, and he was heartbreakingly uninterested in the three adorable tiger cubs we saw frolicking and playing with the mama tiger.  We watched the tigers and pointed out the cuteness while Jake looked at the ground, sadly.  “Can’t you SEE them, Jake?” my mom and I asked.  “I can see them.” he said flatly.

 
 



Acceptance.  After the tiger display, we went to the gift shop – not something we normally do on a zoo trip, but then, this was not a normal zoo trip.  Also, we had Grandma with us, and we all know how that goes (Grandma may or may not be a soft touch).

Not to be materialistic here, but the acquisition of not one but two hippos really turned things around.  Jake said “I will always remember Foggy in my heart, and now I can snuggle my own Foggy whenever I want!”

Going to the zoo, zoo, zoo…

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Are you ready for this?  The shower doors are finished!  Our renovations are completed!  Wheeeeee.  Pictures to follow, but for now I’m just excited and relieved and the teensiest bit annoyed that the head contractor wanted to come and pick up the final cheque immediately, without us being able to test things out.  Hey buddy, I’ve been waiting anxiously for the past three weeks to get these things installed, maybe you can wait a day or two until we’ve actually used the shower?  I don’t know.
The shower doors were supposed to be installed last Thursday, but at the last minute I was informed that there was a fire and kiln explosion at the manufacturer, and the upshoot of that alarming information was that our doors were not ready.  I moped for a second and then decided to seize the day and head to the zoo with the kids. 
I bought my first zoo pass when Mark was a baby, on the advice of my friend who had a one-year-old daughter and hence was my muse for all things mama.  At first, I would meet up with friends and enjoy wandering around the exhibits, all of us pushing our strollers while our babies napped or cried or chewed on their stroller toys.  Later we would get together more sporadically with our double strollers, all of us looking like zombie hunchbacks.  Eventually going to the zoo became really fun as the kids walked, and chose favourite animals, and played in the picnic areas. 
The zoo has a penguin display now, and although we waited in line during spring break for ninety minutes, this time we chose to just peek at the outdoor display and leave the waiting to others.
The boys wanted to walk through the dinosaur park, and I took the same picture I’ve been taking for the past couple of years.  There’s nothing like looking at old pictures to realize that the kids have grown – OMG! – and that time is flying and next thing you know they will be calling me once a week on Sundays.

In other news, the kids seem to have been stretched. 

Jake’s favourite animal at the zoo has always been Foggy the hippo.  Foggy is one of the oldest hippos alive – he will be 47 this year! – and his birthday is only two days after Jake’s.  Jake feels a deep kinship with him. 

Check this picture out from two years ago:

Jake’s longtime favourite colour is orange, in case you didn’t notice.
Mark prefers the Canadian Wilds part of the zoo.

But he also loves the dinosaur park, as he did two years ago:

I forgave the shower door people their kiln fire and explosion, since we had such a great day after all.  I especially forgive them now that we have shower doors that fit properly! 
“Hey Mom, we’ve been playing in this tree ever since we were little!”  Yes, you have, my sweeties.

Fruit Salad, Yummy Yummy.

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We’ve been experiencing SUMMER here in YYC.  The days have been sunny, and warm – hot even.  Of course, this is relative.  The highest temperature of the week is 30 degrees Celsius, which is 86 degrees Fahrenheit, which – when compared with my friends down in Virginia, where the tarmac at an airport melted in the 105 F heat, plus 90% humidity – seems more pleasantly warm than scorching.  However, according to local newscasters, this is a heat wave!  And we’re all going to melt! 

This is my very favourite kind of weather; in the rare occasions that it does get this warm, I get a crazy case of carpe diem: Must.Spend.Every.Possible.Minute.Outside.Before.Snow.Comes.  Fortunately, being a lady of leisure, I can do this.  For example, on Sunday we spent the whole afternoon lounging beside our backyard pool:

Unfortunately some armed thugs stormed the yard:

The dog retreated to the safety of the deck:

And I got a (relative) suntan!

Yesterday the boys and I spent the whole afternoon with a friend and her two sons at the local outdoor pool and it was so hot that I actually voluntarily got in the water.  That never happens.  Fortunately this guy biked over to the pool, and things got even HOTTER:

Sadly, this is untrue – the pool was filled with moms and kids.  The happy shrieking was enough to keep the wildlife away:

WHERE ARE THE ANIMAL RIGHTS ACTIVISTS?  Won’t anyone think of the poor baby lions?

But I realize that, although I love the heat, there are people who do not.  For them, I give you tips on keeping cool, even if you do not have a backyard pool and/or local outdoor pool at your disposal, like I do.  Here’s an idea: pour yourself a cocktail with lots of ice and run a nice, cool bubble bath:

Or maybe take your sailboat out onto the water:

Aiee.  Tan lines. 

Don’t worry about cooking dinner.  Fruit salad will do just fine.  Don’t forget the pineapple.

ALL of these men were featured in issues of Playgirl from the 1970s.  As my friend Beck said, how were any of us born if that’s what the desirable dudes looked like back then?  It truly is mysterious.

Slow Boat to Nowhere

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The kitchen renovation was slated to begin at 11:00 this morning.  Yesterday, I frantically cleaned out all the bottom cupboards and removed things from the countertops, pausing only to wonder when I bought Gorilla Munch, as its best before date was over a year ago.  All items are now in big Rubbermaid containers and/or on my table and/or under my coffee table.  I was ready to go!  And…now it’s 11:30.  I received information that they will start this afternoon, which is fine, that makes the lunch rush much less awkward, but I feel a little lost.

In order to assuage my lost little girl feelings, I decided it was time for a field trip to the garden centre.  Stocking up on plants prior to the long weekend seemed like a good idea, although I certainly will not actually plant them yet as it is supposed to snow.  Good times, YYC.  Good times.  I had full intentions of only buying a few plants for my containers, but ended up with a cart that looked like this:

I was powerless to stop myself.  Right now they are all on the deck, just waiting to be covered up before the snow flies. 

I just credit myself for not purchasing one of the many beautiful bird houses on display.  I almost put a very lovely one in my cart, but then I remembered: my dog likes to kill birds!  Wheee!  Perhaps a bird house would be ill-advised.

Speaking of my murderous dog, I almost had an experience that would strain neighbour relations in a significant way.  These neighbours, a few doors down, have very pampered indoor cats, one of whom likes to escape a lot.  I was working downstairs and came up to fill my coffee cup for the fourth time when I noticed the cat – whose name is, and I am not making this up, Beeps – in the backyard.  Barkley was also in the backyard.  I bolted for the door, just in time as Barkley took the opportunity to pounce.  He was mere centimetres away from the not-so-bright cat, when I called and collared him.  As I shuffled him into the house, I noticed my neighbour, standing on the other side of the fence, looking completely unfazed.  “That was a bit close,” I said to her.  “Oh, no.” she smiled at me vacantly.  “They were just playing.  They’re friends!” 

Now, I am the first to admit I don’t know much about cats.  However.  I am aware of the saying “fighting like cats and dogs” and also I am aware that the cat is much, much smaller than my dog and is declawed.  If I have to bring a cat corpse over to my neighbour’s house one day, I am not going to be happy on a number of levels.  My friend suggested that should there be a cat corpse in my backyard, perhaps it should be BURIED in my backyard, in order to keep neighbourly relations.  Not a bad plan, although it makes me feel a little bit like I would be starring in a less-interesting version of Rear Window.

Perhaps I should have purchased one of these at the garden centre:

Animatronic owls! 

I just got off the phone with the plumber.  I am going to be without a working sink until FRIDAY.  Friday of the long weekend.  Anxiety is looming.  It feels like SO MUCH could go wrong.

I will take my mind off this.  Cute kid anecdote: my kids were playing Star Wars before school this morning, and the characters they were portraying were Anakin (Mark) and Luke (Jake).  Now, Anakin DID chop off Luke’s hand, but it was by accident and it was to save him because he was trapped.  Luke forgave him.  Then they went to Planet Hoth to go snowboarding!  Good times in Utopian Star Wars.

I felt I had to share this cute anecdote as I have been talking so much about my dog lately that I was starting to feel that I was portraying myself as a crazy dog lady.  Which…I might be.  Dammit.  I should have bought that owl.