Category Archives: Housewifery

Tent Poles Of Life

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Last week I listened to a podcast on the case against convenience and efficiency in our modern life, and it was fascinating. Who DOES benefit from people being more “efficient” with their time? If we can get lunch delivered right to our offices, is that really better than walking to go pick it up? Who benefits? It’s not us, the people working through lunch. There is always a cost to convenience, and someone is paying. Sometimes it’s all of us, from an environmental standpoint, sometimes it is a workforce in poor conditions, sometimes it is through loss of personal security and identity. It has been many years since I have worked in an office, but this still resonated with me deeply, particularly the comment that we are all trying to save time, but what are we saving time for?

It’s a good question. Some longtime friends visited us this week, and we were talking about their upcoming retirements. I’m not sure if I can claim that I am retired since I’ve worked only part-time at most since March 2004, but my husband thinks that the key to a happy retirement is to become time-inefficient. This doesn’t mean that he’s lazy or unproductive, but instead it means that he doesn’t rush to cram everything into every possible moment of the day. His workouts are no longer a rushed hour before leaving for the office, but a whole-morning affair, complete with stretching and meditation. Yard work is no longer crammed into the few weekend hours that weather would allow, which is a good thing, since we have so much more yard here than we did in Calgary. Life is more relaxed and happier, particularly since there are no longer insane demands on him, like meetings at 10:00 on Easter morning, as an example.

How we spend our days is how we spend our lives, which is a sentiment I both love and also feel uncomfortable with, given that I spent at least five hours grocery shopping, driving to and from grocery stores, and putting away all the groceries this week. Is my life just groceries now? I suppose there are worse ways to spend my one wild and precious life.

One fun thing I spent time doing this week was make a double batch of cupcakes for my friend Sammi’s birthday (HI SAMMI). There was a big party for her, which was delightful. Happy birthday to my beautiful Sammi!

Speaking of friends and ways we spend our time, my friend Elisabeth (HI ELISABETH) is hosting her semi-annual walking club. It’s my time to shine! I am the QUEEN of the daily walk; I haven’t missed one since March 2020, and before that, I walked probably 99% of the days since Barkley came into our lives in September 2008. If my day is a tent, metaphorically speaking, then my daily walk is one of the tent poles adding structure to my life. It’s a time for moving meditation and podcast listening, gentle exercise and fresh air, enjoying being outside and the beauties of nature, such as this sight from last week.

Free candy! Hold me back!

Another tent pole in my daily life, for half the year at least, is the garden. At the party on Saturday, a friend’s husband asked me how my summer was. Great! I gardened all the time! I answered, garnering a puzzled and somewhat pitying look. Well, I love it, but garden season is coming to a close and I’m going to have to figure out what I did for all those hours in previous offseasons. Oh right, I wrote a book.

As will be obvious from my Favourite Things post last week, an important tent pole is my daily shower, makeup, and hair routine, together with, at the end of the day, my makeup removal, cream application, and dental hygiene routine. These are both very vital parts of my day, as in I cannot imagine my day without them. How would I function?

I saw something several months ago that I have thought of nearly every day since. A fairly well-known Canadian writer had posted a photo of herself in a t-shirt with something witty on it, and that was the point of the post. However. I cannot remember at all what the t-shirt said because the side note of the photo was that the writer was wearing two day old makeup. I cannot get over this. I have to remind myself that the world is a vast tapestry and we are not identical robots. Still. It’s hard for me to fathom not showering daily, let alone going TWO days shower-less, short of extreme illness, surgery recovery, or camping. It is harder still to imagine going two days without washing one’s face. What would her pillowcase look like? What does her skin look like? How does one have eye makeup on for two days without it devolving into raccoon eyes? WHAT KIND OF MAGIC MAKEUP IS THIS?

Well. As I said, we are all different and have different priorities and ways in which we choose to spend our time. I am comfortable with the tent poles that give structure to my days, and therefore, my life. Well, mostly. I would prefer to spend less time vacuuming the floor, which is a tedious tent pole of my day, but that’s the tradeoff for having this guy in my life.

Weekly Reading

Reading is, of course, an important part of my day, and I finished two very good books this week.

Big Little Lies. I first read this in 2017, but decided to reread in preparation for the newly released Big Little Truths, for which I am in the library queue. The queue is pretty long, so hopefully I won’t forget everything by the time my turn comes. Anyway. Rereading this catapulted me back into the days when my kids were in elementary school: the fundraising for Smart Boards, the mom cliques, the playground gossip. This is such a propulsive, funny, and very thoughtful read about a very serious subject: domestic abuse. Moriarty is an excellent writer, and I have a little six-degree connection – a woman in our Morocco tour group taught math to her daughter! I felt starstruck just knowing that! Also, Rex would like you to know that he’s not telling any lies, big or little.

Tunnel 29. Big thanks to blog reader Allison R (HI ALLISON R) for telling me about this excellent nonfiction book that reads like a novel! It details the creation of a tunnel underneath the Berlin Wall through which 29 people escaped East Berlin, but more than that, it is a picture of post-war Germany, the division of the country, and the very grim living situation of East German people, particularly those in East Berlin. I had no idea about the Stasi – the spy network – that infiltrated every part of East German life. This was a very fascinating book and one I’d recommend if you are interested in German and Soviet history. I clearly remember the Berlin Wall coming down, I was a teenager, and this brings so much more context to that event than I have ever had. 

If I were more on the ball, I would have been singing Earth, Wind, and Fire’s September this time last week, but alas. Perhaps I’ll change it to the 28th night of September, just for today. How has your September been? I hope you have a beautiful week, friends! xo

The Sand Mandalas of Everyday Life

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Ever since he retired, my husband accompanies me to Costco almost every time I go. It’s like a standing, extremely non-sexy day date. We keep the magic alive, what can I say. Follow me for more marriage advice!

It IS nice to have the company, and to also have a witness to the absolute chaos that is shopping at the only Costco in a 200 kilometre radius. We were there a few weeks ago, and I learned an important lesson: the week before Mother’s Day rivals that of the one before Christmas. Evidently this has to do with the garden centre, and not because everyone is obtaining massive ingredients to put on a feast of sorts. Whatever the reason, both the parking lot and the warehouse could only be described as insane, with lineups to the cashiers snaking all the way down to the end of the store. Every aisle was crammed with people, and my husband suggested that we turn around and go home.

THERE’S NO TURNING BACK NOW.

I had a significantly large list to get through, and it would not improve by NOT shopping. Also, even with all evidence to the contrary, I had a weirdly optimistic feeling. There was a shopping cart with two wheels jammed into the meridian near our car, and we had rescued it rather than taking one from the carrel. I cannot save all the abandoned carts that litter the parking lots, but I saved that one. Also, who DOES that? It’s so much more work to jam half the cart onto the meridian than it is to just wheel it over to the carrel that is twenty steps away.

In any case, my optimistic feeling panned out. The shopping experience was somewhat hellish, to be sure. As we were finishing up, I told my husband I would just grab a few things from the produce section and meet him in the lineup. I started walking, holding my tomatoes, cucumbers, and sweet potatoes, and then I kept walking. And walking. Where was he? The lineup had magically disappeared and he was preparing to put our items on the conveyor belt.

And that is called Cart Karma, and is why we rescue shopping carts.

In my not-so-recent Ask Me Anything, my friend Diane (HI DIANE) asked What are three things you consider yourself an expert on? As I’ve gotten older, I feel like I am less and less an expert on anything, and more of a lifelong learner, although I do consider myself pretty knowledgeable in the area of karma, both cart and regular.

Sometimes I think of my life as one giant sand mandala, the kind that Buddhist monks make and then destroy as a way of practicing non-attachment and impermanence, except instead of a beautiful divine palace, my sand mandala is a pantry full of groceries. It’s a thing of beauty. I love the feeling of having a stocked fridge and pantry, so full of fresh ingredients, destined to become delicious meals. But nothing lasts forever, and I know that in mere days the stock will deplete, only to lead to me heading to Superstore and Costco with grim determination to create the mandala again. Impermanence!

I also think I am an expert when it comes to the sand mandala that is actual dinner. For over two decades now, I have honed my skills in this area. I make a weekly menu plan, I grocery shop, and then I execute. I know dinner is a struggle for many families, so I don’t want to flex too much, but I enjoy cooking and everyone in this house enjoys eating my cooking.

But dinner truly is a beautiful sand mandala. There is a lot of preparation involved, and although I am the kind of cook who literally throws things together with only a that seems good thought, and definitely no recipe, it still is a labour, the product of which gets destroyed upon setting it on the table.

The ultimate sand mandala at this time of year, though, is weeding the garden. Can a person be an expert on weeding? I don’t know, but if so, I am one. I spend time almost every day weeding, with the understanding that the next day, I will be out there weeding again. There’s no end to the weeds, and although that can feel a bit Sisyphus-ish, it’s also very Zen. Impermanence, non-attachment, etcetera.

Malcolm Gladwell popularized the notion that it takes 10000 hours to become an expert on something, and if that is the case, then most of us are experts on things we didn’t plan or want to be. Like, am I now an expert on laundry? Washing dishes? Vacuuming the floor because someone fuzzy likes to go on adventures in the vineyard and tracks in acres of dry grass and other vegetation remnants?

It’s best to practice non-attachment in those areas as well. Clean laundry, dishes, and floors are all impermanent and, like Newman said about the mail, they never stop. But the brief time where the laundry is clean and folded, dishes are all put away, and the floor is gleaming, well. It’s beautiful, and it – like everything else – will not last.

Weekly Reading

My reading count this week is bonkers, and almost entirely due to the fact that I read a total of three books on Mother’s Day alone. What can I say, other than yoga and walking the dog, I did nothing but read that day. I also had two DNF’s that I expected to love and did not: Still Life and Mornings In Jenin. You win some, you lose some.

Pick a Colour. This was an interesting little book, told from the point of view of a nail salon owner, who used to be a boxer. It’s a commentary on social status, power dynamics, and the road not taken. 

A Winter Book. My friend Laura (HI LAURA) suggested this book of short stories by a famed Finnish children’s author. These are auto-fiction, and span from the author’s childhood to her old age. My favourites were the episalatory variety, but all contain vast nature descriptions of the Finnish landscape, both within Helsinki and on the isolated island where she spent a lot of time.

The Bobbsey Twins and the Tagalong Giraffe. The book that spurred a lifelong desire to go on safari in Africa! I read this when I was seven, and for the past forty-four years I’ve been longing to go to Africa to see the animals. And I will be, soon! Now, will my adventure involve an orphaned baby giraffe named Crackers who I will accompany to a new herd of giraffes? Who can say? I hope so! 

The Things We Never Say. If you know me at all, you know how much I love Elizabeth Strout. She is an auto-buy author for me; I love everything she has ever written, and this, her latest, is no exception. It is an incredibly moving story of a high school history teacher who learns a secret that changes how he views his own life and the world at large. As he teaches the American Civil War to his students, he is faced with a country divided, and he learns that everyone has things they never say to anyone. It is a statement on loneliness, and how a person can be dreadfully alone even when surrounded by people. Strout’s writing is, as always, beautiful and precise and I loved reading every word of this.

Kokoro. It would be difficult to overstate how much this book moved me, how much it resonated with me, how seen I felt while reading it. I wanted to note down every phrase that was meaningful to me, but I quickly realized I would be soon transcribing the entire book. This book of Japanese wisdom for living a life of meaning and fulfilment, particularly for people in midlife, is incredible in every way. I think I had an out-of-body experience reading this. I think the lessons are for everyone, but particularly for those of us in our “back nine eras.” Thank you again to my friend Laura (HI LAURA) for bringing this book to my attention, and I will be immediately looking up everything this author has written.

I cannot BELIEVE I forgot to mention one of my favourite Canadian groups, in last week’s post: Blue Rodeo! Here I am with JIM CUDDY, at a 2008 Plates of Gold Olympics fundraiser. If I look starstruck, it’s because I was. Also in the photo was my husband’s colleague’s wife and Kelly Hrudy, both cut out to make it look like it’s just me and Jim Cuddy. I also got to meet Sale and Pelletier, which will mean a lot for you pairs skating fans out there.

We have had houseguests for an extended long weekend, and it feels just like a holiday. I’ve been flexing my dinner-making muscles, as well as my wine-drinking ones. I’d like to extend my sand mandala metaphor to include the latter, but I cannot think of how to do it. xo

Spring Cleaning

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Bye Bye Birdie

Several months ago, a bird decided it had enough of this cruel world, and kamikazed into our bedroom window. At least, I think that is what happened. I was startled to see a gigantic, bird-shaped splotch on the window, complete with feathers and, how shall I put this delicately, intestinal waste. I immediately ran downstairs and outside, but alas. I could not find the corpse. Possibly the bird did NOT shuffle off this mortal coil but instead survived, but I do not see how. Another possibility is that the body ricocheted far enough away that one of the resident coyotes had a little Circle of Life snack. The one thing I do know is that Rex did not eat it, as he did not have any of his own intestinal waste issues, Rex being a sensitive-stomached big galoompa.

However, this avian disaster occurred at the very start of the cold weather, which precluded the use of the pressure washer, and try as we might with long-handled squeegees, we could not clean it off. I have assuaged my feelings about the minor splodge that is still there by cleaning all the downstairs windows that I can reach with only my outstretched arm and a two-step ladder. I cope by averting my eyes when the sun is shining in that window which, since it’s west facing and I really only use the bedroom to sleep, fold the laundry, and have sex, I don’t see that often.

You can’t see the splodge for most of the day.
But if you look close, you can see a feather.

Heating Things Up

My friend Gigi (HI GIGI) had mentioned recently that she used the self-clean function on her oven, with great results. I have used the self-clean function exactly once, probably fifteen years ago. I thought it would be a great activity on a frigid, minus-30 January day in Calgary. This was not the very worst idea I have ever had, but it is up there, Steve. I did not realize that a) the house would be filled with terrible fumes and, due to the cold I was not able to open the windows without becoming hypothermic, and b) I am terrified of fire and the fact that the oven gets SO HOT was very frightening to me. I waited for the cycle to either finish or for me to perish in the house fire that would surely happen when the oven blew up.

Since then I have mostly used Easy-Off “fumeless” sprays and what my mother calls Elbow Grease to clean my oven, but since moving here almost three years ago I tried to use the Aqua Clean function on my new oven. My mother-in-law has this function and swore it was life changing, but either my oven is inferior or I cook much messier items because I don’t think it works well at all. I think it’s probably the latter; 80% of my oven use has to do with roasting vegetables that have been tossed in oil, which makes things stickier. After almost three years with this oven and dealing with the disappointment that is the Aqua Clean function, I am back with the Easy Off and Elbow Grease method.

Dirty Floors No More (or not much)

In addition to the windows and the oven, Rex also got a spring cleaning!

This will have positive trickle-down effects to the rest of the house. The fuzzier he is, the more dirt, sand, and gravel collects in his paws, to be slowly released throughout the house post-walk every day. He also loves rolling around in the grass, and his thick fur holds onto little leaves and grassy bits, also to be deposited randomly everywhere. I vacuum, and often mop, daily because otherwise we would be living in filth. I’m hoping his haircut will extend the period between vacuuming to every 36, or maybe even 48 hours. Of course, the first thing he did after I drove him home from the groomer’s was to roll around under the grapevines, meaning that his pristine cleanliness lasted exactly 17 minutes, possibly a new record. Well, as I say to my husband when he complains of dead patches in the grass, you can have spotless floors and a perfect lawn OR you can have a dog, and I CHOOSE JOY.

For a dog who really hates being wet, Rex loves the groomer. She is a tiny woman who probably weighs less than he does; she told me that after grooming dogs for 25 years, Rex is the first that she doesn’t have to harness or physically wrangle. She merely tells him to turn, and he does. I do not know how this happens, but everyone at the dog salon refers to Rex as the groomer’s “boyfriend.” When I phone, I can hear multiple voices in the background saying that her boyfriend is coming for a visit. Hilarity ensues. Listen, I am just happy Rex enjoys being groomed, so I just smile when the groomer greets him with a “Hello there, big man.” If it works, it works.

Weekly Reading

Three very buzzy books this week – but one did NOT deliver.

Half His Age. Ninety-nine percent of this book, which follows a 17-year-old girl and her affair with her high school English teacher, is heartbreakingly sad. Against the backdrop of the affair are bigger themes, like consumerism, intergenerational trauma, and acceptance of people for who they are. The ending was hopeful and the writing is fast-paced, almost frantic, which makes for an easy and engrossing read. I did appreciate and enjoy it, but it is full of very gross and graphic details, so be warned if you are prudish or squeamish.

Strangers: A Memoir of a Marriage. This memoir is a cautionary tale for all women, to make sure that they know what is going on financially in their marriage. Hoo boy. When we were travelling in Morocco, an older gentleman said to me of the people in the village, “We’re all the same the whole world round, we all just want to take care of our families, be safe, and to have a bit of fun once in a while.” He was talking about villagers who did not have a whole lot in the way of material possessions, to say the least, but I think it applies to everyone, even the very wealthy and privileged, to which social echelon the author belongs. She is the granddaughter of Babe Paley – shoutout to anyone who knows of the Swans of NYC – and was the recipient of generational wealth from both sides of her family, although the discovery of her father’s $40M debt when he died perhaps shows how inherited wealth can mean revert. Anyway, her husband of over 20 years left her a few weeks into the pandemic, in March 2020, and can we talk about all the marriages that ended during the pandemic? It was a real thing. So this man leaves her as he was having an affair, but just…leaves. No explanation. He doesn’t want access to their children. Just…nothing. The book revisits their lives together as she searches for a reason which, by the way, she never gets. She never gets a reason her husband left her, other than “I didn’t want to be married to you anymore.” I literally said, out loud, “NO DON’T DO THAT” many times reading this as she a) changed the prenup against the advice of her lawyer so that she would get NOTHING of any money accumulating throughout their marriage that wasn’t in joint names, b) doesn’t get involved in their finances, c) DRAINS HER TRUST FUNDS TO BUY THEIR APARTMENT AND SUMMER HOUSE AND PUTS IT IN BOTH THEIR NAMES. Don’t do that! Her husband accumulated millions of dollars throughout their marriage and, of course, put it all in his name so because of the prenup she was entitled to nothing. It’s easy to scoff and say that she’s so rich, she could just sell the homes once her husband leaves her with very little financially, but that’s not the point. The point is this woman was ruined emotionally and nearly ruined financially by what seems like a sociopath of a human. The book is nuanced, well-written, and poignant, and it comes to some beautiful conclusions. I couldn’t read it fast enough! I loved it. As a woman who gave up her career to take care of the children, I can really empathise with her. She trusted this man and he ruined her. ALWAYS KNOW WHAT IS GOING ON WITH THE FINANCES, PEOPLE.

Judy Blume: A Life. When I heard there was a biography of Judy Blume coming out, I did something I very rarely do: I preordered the hardcover. I waited, seething with excitement. Judy Blume! I love her! Then when it arrived a friend alerted me to some controversy surrounding it, namely that Blume was NOT endorsing it. The author says that Blume offered pages and pages of notes, almost all of which he rejected. I guess for his “artistic vision?” I don’t know what specifically Blume did not like about this book, but I am going to speculate that she is not endorsing it because it’s SO BORING. OMG. I would have DNF’d it but I BOUGHT THE HARDCOVER. And it was just the dullest read. I guess this is why I prefer memoir to biography, the latter often is just a dull factual read without any emotion. I’m so annoyed that I now have this EXPENSIVE book in my collection that I will never read again. Chalk this up as one of the most highly anticipated and ultimately disappointing book in my collection.

Tomorrow is my birthday! My first year as a 50+ woman has been great, honestly, and I’m looking forward to the year ahead. I hope you are all having a beautiful week. xo

Modern Miracles

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This spring I’ve felt something akin to survivor’s guilt when I see the weather forecasts coming out of Calgary, and in the rest of Canada in general: heavy snowfall after heavy snowfall. I almost feel guilty that things are in bloom and I’ve been out in the garden for weeks! We have had a dry winter and spring, so hopefully that doesn’t spell doom when it comes to forest fire season. Well, there’s no point mentally rehearsing for bad things to happen; either they will happen or they won’t, I don’t need to dwell on it. Instead I will just focus on what’s in front of me.

Speaking of not mentally rehearsing for doom, the news continues to be objectively horrible and frankly terrifying. Recently both my friends Suz and Bijoux (HI SUZ HI BIJOUX) gently reminded me that whatever happens in 2026, our great-grandmothers had it much worse. I think there’s room for both feelings: gratitude to be living in the modern age where we have such luxuries as the vote and refrigerators, and sadness that the current masters of the universe are insane, evil clowns who value human lives just slightly more than they do mosquitoes.

But Suz and Bijoux are right; my great-grandmothers’ lives were extremely hard and full of tragedy. One of my great-grandmothers died in childbirth, and another had a number of unspeakable hardships imposed on her by the various men in her life. And the only thing worse than having oppressive, unkind men was to have no man at all – my grandma was widowed in her thirties, with no money and six kids aged twelve and under. Life was, to put it mildly, not easy for her. Two of my grandmas had babies who died, and all of these women lived through the Depression and World War II.

Meanwhile, here I am, brushing my dog’s teeth.

They also had to do laundry by hand, and if there is anything that should make us grateful to live in this moment in time, it’s the invention of the washing machine. Of all the household chores, the laundry is the absolute easiest to deal with: dirty clothes are put into one machine and then, wet clean clothes are transferred to another. It’s magical! It’s a miracle of the modern age!

My husband’s grandmother, in whose house we now reside, worked for a time at the laundry in the hospital, and if there is a more physically taxing, miserable job than that, I don’t know what it is. Just think of all those heavy soiled sheets and blankets and towels, being washed by hand on a scrub board, and then wrung out and hung to dry. Imagine the state of your hands. Just doing laundry for a household would be difficult enough, what with the hauling and heating of water, and the misery that would be diapers. But working as a laundress in a hospital setting? I’m exhausted just thinking about it.

Adjacent to the daily appreciation I feel for my washing machine – “He worked hard, Grandpa.” “So do washing machines.” – is the immense gratitude I have for running water. Isn’t it amazing that we have it? So many things have to happen in order for us to have clean, running water: scientists work to ensure that it is safe to drink and workers put that science into action, infrastructure is conceived, built, and maintained to transport that water to our homes, which are plumbed and equipped with heaters so that, with the merest touch of a finger, we are served with water whenever we want it and at the exact temperature we desire. It’s truly a daily miracle. For so many centuries, this was not the usual thing. For so many centuries, a simple bath was an enormous undertaking.

My life is soft and luxurious by any standard, but in comparison to my ancestresses, I might as well be the Princess of Wales.

What was good about them? my mother-in-law once said in response to someone’s pining for the good old days. She’s not wrong. There have been rapid technological changes not just in my lifetime, but also in that of my children’s, who were born before smartphones, streaming, and the maps feature in the car. I remember the wild feeling of being able to pause live television, and the idea that if I like a song, I can simply listen to it on my phone. But just think of the advancements that came into being in our grandmothers’ lives. For one thing: indoor plumbing. Imagine the enormous quality-of-life boost that our grandmothers had when they went from outhouses to indoor bathrooms. I am not sure where this fits on the scale of running water to washing machines, but it’s up there, Steve. A few years ago, I checked the website for the campground at which my family reunion was to be held, and I noticed that they proudly advertised modern flush toilets. It was honestly a selling point to me. Who wants to live without modern flush toilets? Not me. Now it’s become a family joke; whenever my husband books accommodation for a trip, he lets me know that there are modern flush toilets.

I am an optimist by nature, but I do need to take care not to veer into toxic positivity. Earlier this week I wondered if we were indeed going to see a nuclear war, and at least we have toilets was not as cheering as one might think it would be. If my obsessive listening to The Rest Is History has taught me anything, it’s that there have always been despots and atrocities, there have always been men in power who behave terribly, and everything passes. Everything passes, and hopefully we learn and grow, globally. I listened to three episodes on Operation Barbarossa and the Battle of Stalingrad, and all I could think of was Stalin versus Hitler. Stalin versus Hitler! I need say no more, we can all draw our own parallels. I will leave it there and go pour myself a glass of water from the miracle that is my kitchen tap.

Weekly Reading

Stay With Me. This book was a wild ride, and I was here for it. Set in Nigeria against the backdrop of political instability and military coups and resulting dictatorships, it is the story of a couple who have been unable to have a baby. The man’s family decides it’s time for him to have a new wife, and pressures him into a polygamous marriage. The only way for this polygamous marriage to be dissolved is for the first wife to become pregnant – which she does, in kind of a shocking twist. The shocking twist gets stranger as the book goes on. I liked this book a lot but it’s definitely a twisted story. I read a surprising number of books that are set in Nigeria, and every time, I feel grateful to be in Canada.

Any Other Family. I picked this book up on a whim and I’m glad I did. The premise is a bit complicated: a young and incredibly fertile woman has four children who she has chosen to put up for adoption, due to her youth. The four children are adopted among three sets of parents, and the birth mother is involved. It’s all like a big extended family. While the three families are on vacation, the birth mother calls to tell them that she is, once again, pregnant, and will also be giving this one up for adoption. The story is about how the three adoptive mothers cope with the news and with the newly expanding family; it is a triple POV story. Despite the confusing and somewhat unbelievable premise, I was immersed immediately and very invested in the outcome. I kind of wish we could have seen the birth mother’s POV, but maybe that could be a follow-up book. This was really well written and completely engrossing.

The spring air really does give me a feeling of hope and optimism; my little arugula seeds are sprouting, and flowers are popping up everywhere. Now, will I be devastated from opening my news app as soon as I publish this? Maybe! But at least we have washing machines. xo

Holiday Roundup and Reading 2025

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Happy New Year, friends! The tree is down and the various decorations are back in their bins for another year, the house is clean, and I’m slowly and gently nudging myself back into my regular routine. I have had, as mentioned, a restful few weeks filled with restorative yoga, long dog walks, reading, and putting together puzzles.

I have also been cooking.

In my recent Ask Me Anything, Coco (HI COCO) asked what is the division of labour in your household, with your husband, and I will say that since he retired it is quite equitable. Prior to his retirement, the house, and the health and welfare of the inhabitants were strictly My Department, with the exception of Home Repairs, which were in his jurisdiction. In general, I was the Department of Health, Welfare, and Education. These days the kids are grown and my husband has the time to do all sorts of domestic duties, but there is one thing that remains the same: I am the Department of Nutrition. I do all the grocery shopping and I do all the meal planning, without exception I make dinner every day and I ensure that there are ingredients for lunch and breakfasts, which are fend-for-yourself affairs around here, and have been for many, many years. In turn, my husband and whichever son happens to be around clean the kitchen after dinner. It is a system that works well for us, as I truly enjoy cooking and I also like wielding the power of being the Person in Charge of the Meal Plan.

But during the holidays, when there are so many Special Meals, I wish I had a break from this food dictatorship of my own making.

It’s my own fault: my husband can cook and is more than willing to help, but as I am person who cooks with zero recipes and just flings things together, it’s hard to delegate. Sprinkle in some cumin. I don’t know how much. I also think that it’s impossible to get delegate the mental heavy lifting of figuring out what we are going to eat for a week and then procuring all the ingredients for them. I just want someone to magically make me exactly what I want without asking me what that is, and for that person to time travel backward to get the required groceries. Is that too much to ask? And listen, I know. I know that takeout exists and restaurants exist and we certainly COULD utilize those modern innovations, but they still require effort and I want it to be effortless.

Along with a chauffeur, Mike Vrabel, and an array of buskers who follow me around knowing exactly what songs I want to hear at the exact right time, I also want someone to read my mind and procure exactly what I want to eat every day – but only during the holidays, when it feels like meals have to be More Special Than Usual. The rest of the time I can, and want to, manage that on my own.

Our equitable division of labour does not extend to travel planning. Coco also asked how do you plan your travels, and this is what I do: absolutely nothing. Well, that’s not true. I will say, for example, I’ve always wanted to go to Morocco, and then, magically, I go to Morocco! I don’t know if this is how my family feels when dinner is always ready and delicious at the same time every night, but it’s kind of magical to have a husband who researches, plans, and then executes all our trips. I’m sure he occasionally wearies of the load – heavy is the head who wears the Travel or Meal Planning Crown – but in general he enjoys it and is good at it.

For my money, a good partnership has a nice balance of a Person Who Wants To Be A Dictator Of A Certain Thing, and a Person Who Goes With The Flow. For my husband, it’s oh, it’s stir-fry night, great! and for me, it’s where are we going again? You sent me the itinerary? Did I look at it? Two people cannot be both 100% in charge of dinner, and two people cannot be 100% in charge of travel planning. Alternately, two people cannot be so laissez-faire about either of those things, or neither of them would happen.

Speaking of which, my husband and I watched a movie on Netflix called Lonely Planet, which takes place in a writers’ retreat IN MOROCCO. Not only was the movie visually stunning, but we were in most of the places. We were there! We were right there! we kept saying to each other over and over. It is also a romance between Laura Dern and Liam Hemsworth and believe you me, I was here for it. HOO BOY. Sexytimes! There was a lot about writing processes, and the challenges faced, and I really cannot recommend it enough.

Laura and Liam were exactly here!
And here!
AND HERE! OMG!!!

Holiday Reading

In 2025, I read 153 books and 91% of those were written by women. The two male authors that I read this last week of December bumped that percentage down, but as is my wont, the male authors are gay and/ or British.

Calypso. In the leadup to Christmas, I had finished all my library books and wanted something light to read, on the heels of Wave, which was the opposite of light. I decided to reread an old favourite; this is my absolute number one Sedaris collection, and I love it so much. I will say that, after reading Happy Go Lucky, I found much of it poignant and sad. If you know, you know.

What Matters in Jane Austen. This deep dive into the work of Jane Austen is RIGHT up my alley! This is NOT meant for the person who read Pride and Prejudice once and liked it. This is for the Super Fan – like me! It really gets into the weeds – what card games the characters play, what characters never talk, what incomes reflect – and I am here for it. It’s extremely detailed and I loved it! 

Book of Lives: A Memoir of Sorts. I have been a Margaret Atwood fan for decades, and I have been nosily curious about her life for almost as long, gleaning what I could from her many wonderful novels and short stories. I particularly pored over Cat’s Eye, The Edible Woman, Bluebeard’s Egg, and Moral Disorder as providing clues about her fascinating life – indeed, she has lived many lives, as the title suggests, and as we all do. I will say that particularly after Moral Disorder, I wondered what drew her to Graeme Gibson, and her memoir provides some insight to that, although he seemed to me to be a man with a lot of baggage and difficulties. Red flags abound in every way! However, the heart wants what it wants, even if Amy March and I both disagree with the sentiment that you can’t choose who you fall in love with. In any case, it was so interesting to read about Atwood and Gibson working with others to really put CanLit in the spotlight; they did so much for Canadian literature and the publishing industry. Atwood’s early life, a source of much fascination for me, is described in detail, as are her various writing processes for her various books. I was so happy to read how she wrote my beloved favourites, and in particular, my number-one favourite of all time, The Blind Assassin. Friends, this work of art was panned by the New York Times, proof that reviewers often get it terribly wrong. In any case, Atwood is a NATIONAL TREASURE and this memoir is everything I could have ever hoped for, and more.

Goodness, I meant for this just to be a brief roundup of the books I read over the holidays, and look what happened. I guess when I take a break, a lot of thoughts pile up for the old blog. I hope you have a wonderful weekend, friends, and I’ll be talking all things rest and relaxation on Monday. xo

Small Appliance Chaos

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I spent a lot of time in the kitchen, although less time than I used to, back in the days when the kids were in school and it felt like at least fifty percent of my one wild and precious life was spent procuring, preparing, and cleaning up after said procurement and preparation of food.

It’s not fifty percent in this season of life, but it’s still a hefty chunk of the day, and it’s because of this that I am a devotee of small kitchen appliances. As it should be abundantly clear by now, the coffee maker is the number one small appliance in my house – let’s not have a murder! – and the Vitamix, used multiple times a day by multiple people, is a close second. Tied for third are my stand mixer and air fryer, the latter being a dark horse. I did not expect such an item to take a place of importance in my life, but here we are. The last in this list is my food processor, which gets used three or four times a month, and of which I have burned through several over the past fifteen years or so. What can I say, I used to test a lot of recipes for YMC, RIP all my recipes.

If you have been keeping track, you will no doubt remember the Vitamix debacle of last June, which was resolved much more happily than anyone, least of all me, expected. And of course we all know about my recent coffee maker woes, which have also been happily resolved, luckily for my family and anyone who comes into contact with me. We also all know that things happen in threes, and so it should not surprise anyone that another one, as they say, bit the dust, and that one was the stand mixer.

Now listen. This is only a minor grievance. This run of small appliance deaths is not, truly, a tragedy. It’s not even tragedy-adjacent. It’s not like having one of the big three – fridge, stove, washing machine – die. It’s a mild inconvenience at worst.

Deep down, I knew it was coming. I have had this mixer at least since the kids were in early elementary school, possibly even preschool. I have put it through its paces at least twice a week for fifteen years or more. And three or four weeks ago, as I was mixing up some banana muffins, I heard a little snap.

Well, a broken whisk isn’t the end of the world, is it? I figured I could probably buy a new attachment, if indeed this model of stand mixer still exists. In any case, it still worked. Maybe not as efficiently as before the whisk snapped, but it still got the job done.

Then, last week, I was AGAIN making banana muffins with the broken whisk attachment, and when I unplugged the mixer the electric ground stayed behind in the plug outlet. I stared at it for a few minutes, looked at the broken plug in my hand, and then stared into space. Yikes! I might be able to work with a semi-broken attachment, but I am not willing to get electrocuted. My husband suggested getting the plug replaced, but I felt that was only a delay of the inevitable.

Well, as he said last year at this time, when I had the Great Closet Crisis of 2024, it is the best time for something like this to happen. I have said it before and I will say it again: it is WEIRD that Black Friday is a thing in Canada. Do not get me wrong, I am also HAPPY that Black Friday is a thing in Canada, but it’s still weird. Weirder still is that Black Friday is now code for “the entire month of November.” Soon it will be Black Friday on the day after Canadian Thanksgiving. And then it will be Black Friday In July, and after that it will just be Black Friday every day of the year. If every day is Black Friday, then is any day Black Friday? It’s a question for the shopping philosophers.

Weird or not, I gratefully purchased myself a discounted stand mixer, which arrived on Saturday, with plenty of time for holiday baking. That hasn’t been started yet, because there was a bigger project this weekend at the Boyhouse.

The tree is up! The season has shifted to full-on festive, and it’s all holiday music, all the time around here.

Weekly Reading

I have had no fewer than twelve library books out over the past couple of weeks. Every time I take some back, more holds have arrived. But I’m diligently working on the stack!

It’s A Love Story. This book is about the stories we tell ourselves ABOUT ourselves, and how we let those stories define us, for better or worse. There are some nice themes about family and open and honest communication, and about self-fulfilling prophecies, but it took me about a quarter of the book to get invested. I found the main character hard to like, but there was a nice redemption arc and, as it should, everything works out nicely in the end.

The Enchanted April. What a charming, delightful book! This book, written post-WWI, follows four women from London who rent an Italian castle for the month of April. The women are mostly unknown to each other, and seem to be unsuitable companions, but everything works out in the most charming way. This book was written in 1922 and spurred a tourism craze to the Italy! Many thanks to my friend Pearl for the recommendation (HI PEARL).

Everyone Is Lying To You. Thrillers aren’t my usual thing, but I enjoyed this page-turner about a tradwife, homesteading influencer whose husband is brutally murdered. Who did it and why? It’s a compelling story about a very weird side of the internet. It’s also an interesting commentary on the idea of comparing your life to those of influencers, and what really goes on behind the scenes. A good November diversion!

Here we are in the very last week of November! Where did the month go? I hope you all had a lovely weekend and are feeling less salty than Rexie, who isn’t a fan of having his bed moved, even if the “moving” is a total of three feet away. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Fall Follies Edition

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I was at the dog park last week, walking in my usual loop, when I passed by a man I see quite frequently. He’s probably in his 70s, and he has two dogs, one of them a very young puppy. This is against the rules – dogs less than four months are not permitted in the dog park – but I am not The Dog Park Rule Enforcer, so I usually just nod and smile. I was doing that, when he said Have you ever heard of grounding? I had my earbuds in, and wasn’t sure if I heard him correctly, so I politely paused my podcast, raised my eyebrows and tilted my head.

It’s when you stand on the ground with bare feet, facing the sun, he said, and of course I DO know that, but it was such an unexpected question from such an unexpected source. Oh yes, I have heard of th…I started to say as I looked down to see that he was indeed standing with his face to the sun, shoeless. Bare feet. In the dog park.

I blinked behind my sunglasses and then said You’re very brave to do that in the dog park! Brave? Or crazy? At that very moment, his puppy ran up to me to show me the sandal he had in his mouth, and then ran off again as the man admonished him to return it.

I kept walking.

By the time I left the park, ten minutes later, the man was still chasing the puppy, wearing only one sandal. Then I heard him call to someone that the puppy had left his sandal in the long grass and he couldn’t find it.

I hope he was able to disinfect his foot when he got home. Either that or amputate it.

I’m not saying that was one of my Favourite Things, it’s more of a PSA. If you want to ground, maybe don’t do it in a dog park.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Fall Follies Edition

Grapes of Wrath

Almost all of the grapes on the vineyard behind our house are for wine, but the four rows directly behind our house – which we own – are concords. Once those grapes ripen, the air smells like grape juice, and I cannot even begin to express how wonderful it is to walk outside and be hit by that delicious scent.

This past month, until the grapes were all harvested, I would just walk outside and pick a bunch to snack on. Just before the harvest, I snipped off three bowlfuls to enjoy for a little longer. I don’t think I will ever not love the ability to have such fresh fruit right outside my door!

A Pear Affair

Speaking of fresh fruit, the pear crop has been incredible this year as well. My son requested a pear cake for his birthday, and I was happy to oblige.

I used my friend Julie’s (HI JULIE) recipe, and I will note here that I cut the sugar in half, and it was plenty sweet that way. I followed the recipe exactly for the penuche frosting, and it made at least three times as much frosting as one could possibly pile onto the cake.

I have made this recipe before, but I hadn’t noted this down at all, so I don’t know WHAT happened. I do know that I ended up throwing out a lot of frosting, because what else could be done? I suppose I could have frozen it for later use a) when was that going to be, b) chances are I would forget it was there and then later have to chisel frozen penuche out of a container, and c) OMG IT WAS SO MUCH FROSTING. Anyway, the cake was delicious, but I have noted: cut sugar in half, make 1/3 the amount of frosting.

These Shoes Are Made For Walking

Back in my running days, I was very choosy about my footwear, and would spend quite a bit of money buying the fancy Asics Gel-what-have-you shoes. But when I stopped running, I started to buy less expensive shoes – the Skecher Go Walks. I don’t know why I thought I didn’t deserve expensive footwear anymore, particularly since I walk a minimum of five kilometres a day, often more, but that’s what happened. Even without all that walking, I STILL DESERVE DECENT FOOTWEAR.

A few weeks ago, my left foot started hurting, a lot. No problem! I had bought a pair of Skechers on sale and was just waiting for my other pair to wear out before taking them out of the box. I donned my new shoes, went for a walk, and was in pain by the end of it. Worse, the pain started in my heel, and ominous music started playing in my head. I know what heel pain means: planter fasciitis.

No! My feet are my fortune! Or, at least a very important part of me. I fretted and fretted, rolling my foot on yoga balls and massaging it and generally feeling kind of stressed about it. Not only am I on my feet for hours every day, we are going on a vacation that requires a GREAT DEAL OF WALKING very soon! I can’t not be able to walk!

My husband not-so-gently suggested I was being cheap and immediately found me a pair of Asics trail runners, appropriate for the gravelly and sometimes rocky trails that Rex and I favour.

Foot pain – gone. Let this be a lesson for us all: cheap footwear is just not worth it. And this is also a lesson in why I didn’t do another no-shopping challenge! Sometimes needs must.

Progress Not Perfection

I read an interview in Cup of Jo, and as I was looking at the photos, I thought damn, that woman has great hair. Wouldn’t you know it, she happened to mention the hair product she uses: Living Proof’s Perfect Hair Day 5-in-1 Treatment.

I ordered some, thinking it would be a good item for travel, cutting down on the many products I usually use. And friends, it worked like a dream. A DREAM!

Not only that, but my hair still felt great the next day – without washing or adding more product.

Jane, Meet The Dollhouse

I have mentioned my friend Michelle’s incredible and uplifting blog before (HI MICHELLE), and in particular I have mentioned her absolutely delightful dollhouse. Every single post is more wonderful than the last – it just gets better and better. Well, I don’t know how she is going to top this one, because she obtained a Jane Austen doll. Jane Austen! With the gnomes in the dollhouse! I am surprised I didn’t spin right off this planet.

I’m not going to steal any photos from her, obviously – you’ll just have to go to look for yourself! But in honour of her, I wore (one of) my Jane Austen tees, which is also a Favourite Thing.

Outfit of the Month

This exact outfit has been an OOTM before, but since I am shopping my closet these days – with the exception of this month’s shoes! – I thought it deserved to shine.

Yesterday my husband and I were invited to a tour and tasting at a very fancy, architecturally incredible winery, and this was the perfect choice. Sorel boots for walking and standing, tights because wineries can be really cold, and my favourite lululemon t-shirt dress. Perfectly comfortable and cute!

And now, as alluded to, I am off on an adventure! I will be taking a blog break and will see you all on the other side. Take care of yourselves, friends. xo