…and I scream at the top of my lungs, “What’s going on?”

I am a person who really has to make a concerted effort to have just one or two backups of any given staple in my house, whether it be food, toiletries, or paper products. I have to work at not hoarding things, with the thought in mind that I can always buy it next time I’m here. So you can probably imagine my state of mind, and also the state of the pantry, fridges, and freezer right now.

Interestingly enough, as of yesterday my local Co-Op had toilet paper in stock, but I got the last two bags of round tortilla chips, and the chip aisle itself was pretty much decimated.

This is usually one of my most hectic weeks of the whole year, getting ready for spring break and all that comes with it. Suddenly I’m thrust into a quiet state and I hardly know what to do with myself. Our spring break trip to Mexico is, obviously, cancelled. Hence the extra avocados; if we can’t go to Mexico, I guess Mexico can come to us. Although – and I just realized this in a panicked way – I was going to stock up on vanilla on my way home at the duty free, and now I will have to buy expensive vanilla, all is ashes.

Anyway, I am very disappointed and sad, for the lack of a Mexican trip and also, disproportionately, the lack of vanilla. These are Princess Problems, of course, but I am still sad. Never mind all my groceries, I have a serious plethora of sunscreen that I stocked up on, as well as new bikinis and coverups. My son’s sailing trip has not yet been cancelled, but of course it will be, and I guess I will be donating the giant rubber boots I bought for him, because no ninth-grader is actually going to wear giant rubber boots unless he is actually on a sailboat on the west coast.

All that angst about the poinsettia fundraiser, all for naught.

I am also a person who has always washed her hands countless times per day; I open up doors in public places using the bottom of my shirt and I hand-sanitize after touching keypads or buttons. I have indoctrinated my kids to do the same; from the time they were little they knew to wash their hands after coming into the house, they would hold out their chubby little hands for a squirt of hand sanitizer in public places. So you can probably imagine my state of mind right now, not to mention the state of my hands. If you were to judge my age by my hands – as they say – I would be 102 years old.

Well. I’m trying very hard to be positive, thinking that we are all working together to mitigate the coronavirus, to “flatten the curve,” as they say, and at the very least, I will be spending a lot of time with my family. My husband’s office is closed, so he’s working from home. The schools have not yet been closed, and perhaps they won’t be, but in any event, spring break starts on Friday. I just read that the virus is not transmitted through sweat, so tomorrow I am going to go to the gym, and I’m feeling confident about my yoga classes.

Just as an aside, it’s minus twenty and snowing right now. It is a full fifty degrees warmer in Puerto Vallarta AND they have mango margaritas there.

Positive thinking, POSITIVE THINKING. I am going to get a lot of reading done, I have un-paused all of my library holds and I have a number of books at home that I was looking forward to reading on my beach chair. I will read them in my comfy chair at home! That’s almost as good. I remembered earlier in the day that today is Pi Day, and so I baked a cherry pie for the guys. I will never cease to be amazed at mathematics. Any circle in the world, any circle, take the circumference and divide by the diameter, and you get pi. ANY CIRCLE, ANY ONE AT ALL. Is that not amazing? Anyway, cherry pie. Together with that and the coconut chocolate cookies I made yesterday, we are awash in baked goods. Baked goods or not, we are luckier than 99% of people, I think.

Earlier in the week there was a lockdown at the high school, caused by a student who brought a gun to school; it was quite terrifying but ended up that the gun in question was an Airsoft one, and so everything is fine. The point is that we are all here and healthy. My beautiful friend Florence, of amazing hair fame (HI FLORENCE) said she was taking this opportunity – this forced quietness, this forced pause – to stop rushing around and just spend time with family. Given that my plans for the next week would have had me in a literal frenzy, I feel that I should take this time as a gift. It’s also an opportunity to practice loving-kindness towards ourselves and others, to remember the people who are not as fortunate as ourselves, and to eat any manner of delicious things and – as I have been doing – to drink a lot of wine. After all, I have a fairly full rack of wine, lots of gin and vodka, and if all else fails, I can figure out how to make my own mango margaritas. Although, that will require a trip to the grocery store and honestly, I do not think I have the stamina to do that again for a few days. But, sometimes, needs must.

Stay well, my friends. Wishing you lots of wine and yummy things, and, above all, health. xo

I’m just a prisoner of love

We are just finishing up what has been, for the boys, a five-day long weekend, for my husband, a four-day long weekend, and for me, a three-day long weekend. For my high school son in particular, it’s great that he was back at school for one whole week before having a three-day and subsequent four-day week. We would not want undue stress.

To be honest, though, it’s been quite lovely, having a relaxed few days. We had very good friends over for dinner and, in honour of Valentine’s Day, I made a heart-shaped cake. I have discussed this before but it bears repeating now:

So easy, and so cute. I also made a whole lot of heart-shaped cookies; what is a semi-holiday without commemorative cookies? It is nothing, that’s what.

My husband and I don’t really celebrate Valentine’s Day in any kind of traditional fashion – except maybe, afternoon delight, which is really a regular occurrence, so it doesn’t count. However, he did give me this running top a week or so ago, purporting it to be an “early Valentine’s gift” so I’ll take it.

Every year I – jokingly, obviously – ask my husband if he bought me a Prisoner of Love teddy bear, and this year he told me that he really, really has no idea what I am referring to. I was amazed that he had never seen those teddy bears that are for sale in drugstores and the like every Valentine’s Day, I suppose for men who forgot the holiday and want to have something tangible to give to their lady. Prisoner of Love teddy bears strike me as one of the funniest things that could possibly be gifted to someone on Valentine’s Day, with the minor exception of gas station roses. In any case, he had never heard of or seen them, and I couldn’t believe it. I appealed to my Friday lunch yoga class, and after class several people told me that they had never heard of them either. Am I imagining things? Was it all just a dream?

So now I appeal to you, my dear readers. Have you ever heard of, seen, or – omg, please – ever received a Prisoner of Love teddy bear? A quick google search shows me that there are some modern-looking Winnie the Pooh versions, but that is not at all what I’m thinking. I’m thinking of cheap looking, white teddy bears with black-and-white striped prison gear.

Have You Seen This Bear?

That is, clearly, one of those enormous bears that can be won at the Stampede or similar fairgrounds, by a weirdly talented sharp-shooter or ring-thrower.

Last night we took advantage of the long weekend to watch Bohemian Rhapsody with the boys, and while it wasn’t as fun to watch as Rocketman, it was a very interesting movie. It was quite fascinating to see the collaboration for all of Queen’s songs, but it was also fascinating to point out familiar faces. Hey, that’s Tom from Downton Abbey! Hey, that’s Littlefinger! I saw in the opening credits that Mike Myers was in the film and, about 3/4 of the way through, I wondered when he was going to make an appearance. His character had already come and gone by that point, my husband said. I have to say that was some good hair and costuming.

It’s important to do things as a family, and so I took my older son with me to Costco yesterday. I have never in my life been to Costco on a Sunday afternoon and, as god is my witness, I never will again. How bad could it be? I had thought to myself and the answer is Really very bad. If my son hadn’t been with me, cheerful and encouraging, I probably would have just turned around and went home when I reached the parking lot, which was much more of a disaster than usual. But we pressed on, finally finding a parking spot behind the building. Subsequently someone would park directly behind me, so that I had to make a 20-point turn to back out of my spot, but I would not discover this for another 45 minutes.

The shopping expedition did not take as long as I thought it would, although the jumble of carts lined up for free samples of miniature chocolate chip cookies was almost enough to push me over the edge. As one might expect, the lineup was the worst part.

This is what I don’t understand, though. I had a full cart, as usual. I would have never gone had it not been a weird combination of a holiday Monday, several appointments in my usual grocery shopping time, and a desperate need for my household staples. All through the lineup, though, were people with less than five items in the cart, and those items were often things like muffins or a pack of drinkable yogurt. There would be no WAY I would set foot in Costco and go through all the nightmare that is the parking lot and lineup, just for muffins and drinkable yogurt, or for anything that you could get at a much less mentally taxing grocery store. Oh well, it takes all kinds to make a world, as everyone’s grandma, including mine, used to say.

Well, I am going to finish off this long weekend with a lot of reading, a little yoga, and a nice little dog walk. I hope you all have a wonderful holiday Monday! xo

It’s tiny cauliflower season

The day after – literally, the VERY NEXT DAY – I posted about misreading Gental Fitness as Genital Fitness, the sign was changed. I was driving my son to school and exclaimed that the sign now read Gentle Fitness, to which he expressed relief that I would no longer be alluding to elderly men doing something mysterious to strengthen their genitals. Are the people at the fitness centre reading my blog? Or did someone show up at the fitness centre hoping to alleviate incontinence, only to be introduced to aquasize and low-impact aerobics? We may never know the answer.

Oh, you guys, it is SO COLD around here; dropping the kids off at school, my car reads minus 30, and that is without windchill. “It feels like minus 39!” the weather person on the radio said. This should never be a surprise in January, and it isn’t, not really, but it’s quite dreadful. I always think I should re-read The Long Winter at this point in our own winter journey because it SHOULD make me more grateful and thankful to be living in the modern age. I mean, what do I have to complain about, really? That it’s difficult to walk the dog? I have a beautiful, warm, cozy home, I have many warm items of clothing, I have a garage so my car doesn’t freeze. I’m not snowed into some isolated town waiting for the trains to come in with food and supplies and – spoiler alert – those trains never arrive. Sure, my hands hurt, but am I sitting in my dark lean-to in below-freezing temperatures trying to frantically twist hay into little sticks just so I don’t literally freeze to death? Am I grinding seed wheat in an old coffee grinder in the hopes that I will stave off starvation, literal starvation? Am I spiraling into madness because I have been stuck in a tiny dark house for months with nothing to listen to but the howling wind outside? No I am not. My biggest issue is that there was no cauliflower at Superstore.

It’s tiny crappy expensive cauliflower season, which isn’t my favourite but which illuminates something about myself and that is that I cannot – or will not – go without cauliflower for a week. There’s a limit to how much I will pay, because there is always a limit, it is not infinite, but I am willing to pay some pretty high prices for pretty tiny cauliflowers. My demand curve is, shall we say, price inelastic. Am I an addict? Do I have a problem? Probably. There are worse things to spend money on, in my humble opinion.

It is exam time at the high school, and so after one full week back at school my older son now has three weeks off. Well, he has a couple of exams to write in that time period, but really. Three weeks! He doesn’t go back to class until February 3, making my younger son insane with envy. He will get to experience this excessive time off next year, as Thursday is his high school orientation day. Two kids in high school! The children, they get older. I’m getting older too. 

Speaking of getting older, ladies, lean in. The perimenopause thing? A couple of years ago I asked my mom when she stopped getting periods, as that is the number one indicator as to when it would stop for me. When she replied I couldn’t believe my ears – it indicated another full decade of these ridiculous symptoms. Well, what can you do. The symptom I am finding the most difficult to deal with is breast swelling and tenderness. 

“Tenderness.” That seems like a bit of an understatement. It used to be a day before my period my breasts would be slightly sore. Now it’s a week to ten days of my entire chest hurting and my breasts swelling to my pre-kid glory. Even if I do manage to fulfill my New Year’s Resolution of buying a new bra, I’m going to have to hang on to these old ones just for premenstrual comfort. It’s silly, really, my cleavage goes from “bra is gaping around my deflated breasts” to “spilling out of my bra like an old-timey centrefold.” The other day my husband’s eyes bugged out when he walked in on me getting dressed; it probably gave him flashbacks to when we first met.

I for one do not want to relive my Glory Days, the sheer relief I feel when I actually get my period and my yoga tanks go back to fitting properly and I don’t feel like my sports bras are actively trying to kill me softly with their song is immense.

This too shall pass; there will be a time after this.

I had my hair appointment on Friday so once again I feel relatively youthful, at least for another few weeks until the roots start coming in. Life is a roller coaster, I swear. I had a roller coaster emotion as I gazed into my Daylight 10x Magnifying Mirror, and noticed that one of those black chin hairs has turned…white. You know those chin hairs, the ones that are nonexistent in the morning but somehow are an inch long by evening. I’m mixed on this development because a white chin hair is infinitely less noticeable than a black one, and yet. I have also noticed white hairs in my eyebrows, which, I do not know what to do about it. If I start plucking them out will I eventually be bald above my eyes? Do I start using an eyebrow pencil? I just don’t know.

Anyway. It is going to be an odd few weeks; my schedule is exactly the same, or a bit busier as I’ve scheduled some appointments for my older son in during this time. One child at school, one child at home save for the three exams…as I write this I am listening to some amped-up electric guitar as someone is taking a study break. Everything feels a bit unsettled. This week has been too cold to even walk the dog; poor puppers hasn’t had any exercise since Saturday. Since I’m having my ladies’ holidays, AND it’s insanely cold, I’m doing restorative yoga in the early mornings instead of going into the studio. This would be lovely except that I keep forgetting to leave the dog in his crate until after I’m done, which means that he thinks I’m dead or injured, and need to be roused.

With the cold, I wondered how I was going to get my steps in, on non-exercise days. Yes I am a slave to my Garmin watch, what of it? Monday I had to run an errand – at the mall – and noted all the elderly and also moms with strollers, desperate to get out of the house. Hmmm…they are on to something. Yes, I lapped the mall a couple of times before making my purchase, which feels like it goes nicely with the white chin hair. Hey, it was an extra 5000 steps, that was worth it.

That was startling

My husband, with no effort whatsoever, lost four pounds over the Christmas holidays. I feel I could close out this post without saying anything else. It’s like one of those one-line stories; an entire story captured in just a sentence. Men, am I right? But the real issue here is that our household is apparently a zero-sum game as I gained that same amount over that same time period. One cannot expect two weeks of unbridled culinary hedonism without some consequences, however, sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be a man.

Add that to the fact that, while shopping for protein powder, the salesman asked if I was fifty-plus. On the one hand, there are many whose lives were cut short, who would love to be fifty-plus. Life is a gift, every damn day is a gift, we must celebrate each year that we are on this planet. On the other hand, I’m forty-four.

In his possible defense, I was at the end of my hair colour cycle and with each passing month the contrast between my now-almost-white roots and the rest of my hair is more and more pronounced. See?

It’s even more pronounced because today my hair appointment got rescheduled to Friday; I was torn between feeling, well, GREY, and also feeling excitement at having a couple of unexpectedly unscheduled hours. Unfortunately, a lot of that happily unexpected free time ended up getting consumed by the discovery that our scanners have mysteriously stopped working, right in the middle of my paperwork for insurance renewal.

My friend Janet (HI JANET) was telling me that at her Hollywood peak, Marilyn Monroe had her roots touched up weekly. WEEKLY. Imagine having the resources to do that. Imagine having the TIME.

As it is, I spent the first part of Monday morning at the orthodontist’s office, where I thought we were going to be able to book the braces-coming-off appointment but were instead told that it could be a few more months. It felt, very much, like a January piece of news. I had been holding off booking a dental cleaning for my son with the thought that he would be braces-free very soon, but alas. After the orthodontist I spent a solid 45 minutes on the phone booking various dentist and doctor appointments for both boys, trying to juggle my own schedule with their schedule with the doctor/ dentist schedule, and let me tell you, after that I thought a little bit about day-drinking. Only a little bit though. It was like my old linear programming days, where if you added too many parameters and restrictions prior to solving for x, you would end up with no feasible solution.

Back in those days, the computer programs took forever to run, and it would feel so disheartening to do so much work and wait so long – the computer would often time out or die while calculating – to get the response no feasible solution. The first full week of January feels similar, not to mention that the really cold weather has arrived. The weekend lows are in the minus 30s and the highs in the minus 20s; just going out to get groceries or to take the kids to school feels like an epic feat of strength. I’m living in my legwarmers and layers, and it takes a great deal of willpower to get undressed and then into the shower, and then great willpower to get OUT of the shower, and even more willpower to just put clothes on afterwards. That’s a lot of mental energy and willpower, considering that doesn’t take into account leaving the house.

I am trying not to be too bitchy about the cold weather; this is where I live, cold weather is part of life, let’s just move on. However, my Raynaud’s is in full-blown weirdness; I was driving home from class – with gloves on, of course – and by the time I got home this is what my left hand looked like.

That finger still hurts, and it brings to mind what my doctor said, that the only real cure for this is to live in a warmer climate. Maui? Where my fellow Renaud’s sufferers at?

Well. There are many lovely things about January. Be present, cherish the moment, I chant to myself, over and over like I’m institutionalized a la One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest. Not out loud, though. Speaking of this, something I really dislike about our society today is the ubiquitous Bluetooth. I cannot even begin to count the number of times I have heard someone speaking, and, thinking they were addressing me, I turn to answer only to discover they are talking on their Bluetooth. It startles me EVERY TIME. I was mentioning this to one of my seniors and he said that he has a different perspective. When he hears someone ostensibly talking on Bluetooth, he avoids eye contact in a stay away from the crazy person kind of way. I mean, I probably shouldn’t judge as I am a person who sings out loud in the grocery store. Perhaps that’s why people avoid eye contact with me? Just kidding, I have yet to notice people avoiding my gaze as I ask them random questions as regards the items in their cart/ how old their baby is/ have they ever tried this before?

SPEAKING of that, I have been meaning to mention these “kalettes” I found at Costco a few months ago.

There were several of us women milling around the display in the giant refrigerator, all of us asking each other if anyone had tried them? And if they were good? No one had so I volunteered as tribute and grabbed a package. Later, in the lineup, a woman asked me about it. Well, for all of you wondering, THESE ARE DELICIOUS. I have bought them every time I have been to Costco ever since; they are glorious roasted with olive oil and balsamic. I’ve also made them with nutritional yeast, which was also good.

They don’t LOOK that appetizing, but believe me. BELIEVE ME THEY ARE DELICIOUS.

Circling back slightly to Things That Startle Me Constantly, there is a sign in my neighbourhood for a fitness centre that offers Gentle Fitness. The only thing is, Gentle is misspelled; the sign actually reads Gental Fitness. Every Single Time I drive past it, I am startled anew at the idea of Genital Fitness. I mean, what is that? Kegels? Pelvic Floor Exercises? Something Else I Am Not Aware Of And Probably Don’t Want To Be? All that goes through my head within a second, and then I remember, oh. They mean GENTLE.

2020 Vision (I know, I know, but I had to)

Happy New Year! As I write this, I’m still in my pajamas with a big cup of coffee; I’ve been spending the last (almost) two weeks sleeping late, reading, and watching movies. It’s been a very chill kind of holiday break and while I’m not EXACTLY feeling ready to get back to work and routine, well. There’s no stopping time.

Speaking of which, I came across this article, which I suggest you go and read in its entirety if you really want your mind blown, but here is a screenshot of the part that made me set down my coffee cup and stare off into the distance:

THE WONDER YEARS, YOU GUYS. I remember watching that with my friend Elise (HI ELISE) and we would talk about those long-ago hippie days. Long ago like, for example, when Bey burst on the scene or when we all got a Facebook account and poked each other.

Well! Let’s look forward to the new year. I did finally take down the decorations on the 31st, and most of all the outdoor ones are down as well (it’s a long process). The house is clean but seems awfully bare. A bit depressing but it cannot be Christmas all year, can it? January is the time for reflections, renewal, and resolutions. I know many of you balk at the ideas, but don’t get me wrong: I think we are all wonderful just the way we are. However, given the chance for self-improvement, I am going to take it.

I was talking to my younger son about resolutions, and he said “But my resolutions are never done! Because I just always want to keep on improving.” Which, yes. Exactly.

Being Mindful, Being Present

This has been an ongoing resolution for years, and I think it probably will be forever. I mean, none of us suddenly achieve samadhi. Life is a journey and mindfulness is also a journey. I want to really work on being present for everyone in my life, and taking the time to just mindfully enjoy the moment. Here I am, walking the dog, enjoying the blue sky and my fuzzy baby. Here I am, in the Costco lineup, looking at what other people have in their carts. Here I am, folding laundry…okay, it will be easier in some circumstances than others. But I will channel my inner Mary Oliver: “Instructions for living a life. Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.”

I read somewhere – where was it? – that in conversation, people don’t really LISTEN, they are too busy thinking about what they themselves are going to say next. I want to really focus on listening.

Mindful Shopping

Ever since Kondo-ing my house long ago, and my one-year shopping challenge, I have been pretty good about really thinking about things I bring into the house, whether they be clothes, food, or toiletries. This is an ongoing thing, because it can be easy to overbuy things that are really not needed. In thirty days leading up to Boxing Day, I recorded my outfits and I only re-wore one sweater. ONE. And then I received a few sweaters for Christmas…what I’m saying is I maybe don’t need to buy any new sweaters for a while. I keep several lists of things needed to run a household – food, mostly, but also important things like soap, toothpaste, cleaning supplies, etc. – because otherwise I tend to stock up way too much. I think that mindfully buying things that are needed/ badly wanted, rather than randomly shopping, is a good way to live, both from an ecological point of view, and an economic one. However…

Buy A Damn Bra Already

When did I do my shopping challenge? Hold please. Yes, 2017-18, that was when I made the decision to not buy clothes for a year, and I had said the exception was a new bra. Spoiler alert: I did not buy a bra. So back in 2017, my bras were already ill-fitting due to my much-deflated decolletage, so who knows how old my bras actually are? I have been wearing the wrong size bra for many years now. JUST BUY A BRA, NICOLE.

In my semi-defense, most of the time I wear yoga tanks under my clothes, for teaching, and so I don’t wear an actual bra that often but MY GOD HOW HARD IS IT TO GO TO VICTORIA’S SECRET AND JUST BUY A BRA. I don’t have a hard-to-fit size, I have a Victoria’s Secret in the mall that is a five minute drive away, I COULD DO THIS.

THIS. This is my main, non-vague resolution for 2020. Go to the mall. Get fitted for a bra. Buy a bra that fits in a few different colours. GO ME.

Read More, Phone Less

This has been a goal for a few years now, and I’m happy to say that in 2019 I read 133 books. This might be a bit on the high side given that I was alone for ten days while the guys were in Alaska, and mostly I read during that time. However, I’d like to read over 100 in 2020. I instituted a rule for myself that on days that I was very busy with classes – 2 or 3 days a week – I would not look at social media, not once. It turned out to be great for my mental health, particularly with two elections in 2019. I am going to institute that rule again. Let me tell you, the longer I was off twitter the less I wanted to look at it.

Sing Us A Song You’re The Piano (Wo)Man

I have been playing the piano for over 34 years, and I love it – but I don’t play often enough. I usually force myself to sit down once a week to play for fifteen minutes, and that is just not enough. I’d like to extend that time, and learn how to play Evil Woman.

Favourite Things

I am going to continue to write this blog once a week, and do Favourite Things once a month.

Mindful Exercise

Oof, I learned a big lesson about myself in 2019, and that is that specific fitness goals are NOT healthy for me. I love running but I think my own goals for running my first road race caused my big injury. Therefore, I am going to keep my gentle goals in mind: one long run, one short, treadmill only, cross train with spin and elliptical. Someone told me that treadmill running is not “real” running but you know what? What other people consider to be “real” is not my concern. My concern is health and enjoyment.

Also, my yoga practice has changed immensely to include lots of modifications and variations of gentle seated poses, as well as a focus on strength with sun salutations and standing postures.

Make the Plans

Last year my friend Nicole and I (HI NICOLE) resolved to have coffee once a month for the year – and we did it! Although her son thought it wasn’t a real resolution because “we like each other and we like seeing each other” it was a bit of a challenge getting our schedules lined up. A few years ago I changed “I don’t have time for X” to “X is not a priority” to see how that would sit with me, and it turns out saying that my friends are not priorities does NOT sit well with me. My friendships are important and as such they deserve my time and effort. So, my plan is to find the time, set the date, and stop saying we should get together and just do it.

 

I think that’s everything! We shall see at this time next year what’s what. Have you made goals or resolutions this year?

Boyhouse Year In Review 2019

The cold and dark at this time of year practically demands cozyness during the winter holidays. We’ve all been sleeping late and letting the days unspool slowly, with no real big goals or activities. The first couple of days of winter break, I did nothing except read and watch movies, slowly increasing my activity levels as I felt myself become restored.

Self-reflection and striving for improvement is always a good thing, I think. It’s good to look back on the year and look forward to the new one dawning. This year, Christmas has felt different; for one thing – and this will surprise many of you – I have not yet taken down my tree or decorations. Usually I pounce on it shortly after Christmas, but it still stands there merrily, and I have made no move to change things. Christmas cards are on every surface in the living room, and I have no urge to pack them away and dust those surfaces. Maybe I’m subconsciously trying to slow down time in a Landslide-type way? I don’t know. All I know is I have the strong urge not to rush anything and to be present, which is my goal for this and every year.

My husband booked tickets to see the new Little Women movie Saturday night, and so last week I set aside my library pile to re-read the books. I say “books” because I include Good Wives as a separate book, which I’m sure could be the cause of many really boring arguments. Anyway, I’m glad I re-read them because the new movie is so true to the books; as well it is very cleverly shot and the characters are shown as being far more complex than they are in the usual heart-warming adaptations. It’s a little dark in places, which is quite true to Louisa May Alcott’s life; she had quite a dreadful, impoverished, and difficult life.

Has anyone seen the movie yet? I need to talk about it. Specifically, I need to talk about the juxtaposition of the scene of Meg at Sallie Moffat’s ball and the scene where she and John are discussing finances and her purchase of $50 worth of silk. And every other little thing about the movie.

Near the end of the movie, Amy has a line in which she says that writing about things – specifically, domestic, everyday things – is what makes them important. Is there anything better description for a blog? Here are the things that were important to me this year:

January

I talked about life’s little luxuries, someone told me that I reminded him of Charlene Prickett, and in an eerie bid of foreshadowing, I rescheduled my son’s appointment to get his braces on, which turned out to be very serendipitous. My older son also went winter camping and I wrote about cozy things.

February

I discovered that Johnny Rotten’s name came from his gross dental health and scheduled myself a dental cleaning (also, he’s still alive – who knew?), I started my Eating a Rainbow series in which I discuss my completely rigid meal plan, and my son’s orthodontist turned out to be an actual criminal. It was also the coldest February on record, so I had to search for my inner sunshine.

March

I had more than usual time-change-related-exhaustion, I cleaned my oven, and while traveling to and from Puerto Vallarta, I was seated beside the World’s Worst Airplane Seatmates. Literally. I also made a Seinfeld-themed birthday cake for my Seinfeld-obsessed son.

April

I went into full-on spring cleaning mode, including, weirdly, booking a Pap test, I got a Garmin watch and went into full-on David Sedaris mode, and I celebrated my birthday! I also talked about my trip to Puerto Vallarta and how I finally realized my dream of ziplining.

May

I bought a scrunchie, I took my son to his drum lessons and met his unintentionally-hilarious drum teacher, and I badly injured myself only two days before my first road race. Also, Barkley turned 11!

June

I applied to renew my sons’ passports, and met David, the employee with the most zest for his job and pride in his work that I have ever seen, government or not, I replaced the battery on my Daylight Magnifying Mirror, and my sons decided to give me even more grey hair by racing around in abandoned shopping carts. I also, weirdly enough, volunteered to make mini-cupcakes for the teachers.

July

I had an empty nest for a week, I hiked with the kids and listened to them talk about Li’l Pump, and we got two days of nice weather so I carped the diem. I also went to a concert and got dressed up in my Stampede Wear.

August

We discovered the term “girl’s blouse,”the kids watched The Shining and thought it was a comedy, and I found a moth in my water glass. My husband took the kids to Alaska and I was home alone for TEN DAYS so I hiked a lot with my friend.

September

The kids went back to school – my older one started high school! – I spent far too long wondering if I should grow my hair long, and I wondered what it would be like to be followed by the paparazzi. Also my younger son turned 14 and we hosted many, many teen boys at our house for a barbeque.

October

I re-read The Handmaid’s Tale and realized I am less a Handmaid and more a Wife or Martha, I became low-level outraged about crappy fundraisers (POINSETTIAS, I AM LOOKING AT YOU), and it was Halloween! I also got reading glasses.

November

I got excited about Christmas and continued to be low-level outraged about poinsettias, I got more excited about Christmas, and I – un-Christmaslike – read Helter Skelter. Shudder. The decorations were put up, and are STILL NOT TAKEN DOWN WHO AM I.

December

More outdoor decorations were purchased and displayed, including a Christmas walrus, I broke out the decorative tins, and my son broke my cutting board by crushing candy canes with a rubber mallet.

2019 – that’s a wrap! Happy New Year to all of you. xo

We Will Assimilate You

It feels like, in this stage of life, that every single week we think next week things will slow down over and over until we drop dead from exhaustion, but I am optimistic that this week, THIS VERY WEEK, things will indeed slow down.

Well, maybe. At the very least, it is the last week of school – and for me, work – before a few weeks off, and those weeks off will be very welcome and – hopefully – slow. I have big plans to watch movies and read books, to drink coffee with almond Bailey’s in it, and to recruit my husband in to coming with me to help with what grocery shopping will need to be done. I am strong, invincible woman, but grocery shopping – particularly in the winter, particularly when shopping for people who WILL NOT STOP EATING – is physically exhausting.

I go weekly to Superstore, and bi-weekly to Costco, and because Wednesday is my designated Errand Day, those two chores happen on the same day every two weeks. Last Wednesday it started to snow, huge fluffy thick flakes, and I had to really brace myself for the Epic Grocery Day. If you’ve ever pushed a giant cart full to the brim with groceries through a snowy, unplowed parking lot, not once but twice in a two-hour span, you will understand how physically depleted I was by the time I pulled into my garage. In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have gone for a 6.5 km run BEFORE doing that, but how was I to know it would start snowing immediately before heading out for Epic Grocery Day? I am not a meteorologist.

Pushing the cart aside, the biggest problem with grocery shopping during the day is that no one is home to help unload the car and put things away; it took a solid 50 minutes of non-stop work to do this. Who needs to go to the gym when you can just provide food for teenage boys?

Oh, the life of a domestic goddess. Last Friday I was having coffee with my friend Janet (HI JANET) when I noticed that the clasp of my beloved Christmas bracelet had come undone, and my little Christmas tree was missing. I checked my clothes, the coffee shop, the car…and then came to the sad conclusion that it was gone forever, probably lost in the snow. I taught my class and sadly came home; I washed the dishes in the sink and when I took the dish gloves off there was a little clunk on the floor – my Christmas tree! Of course! I had washed the dishes immediately before leaving the house, because apparently washing dishes is a huge part of my life, and the clasp must have come undone then. I was so thankful that the little tree didn’t go down the drain, or that more charms didn’t fall off the bracelet.

Luckily the clasp didn’t come undone when I was out mailing a card. You know the scene from When Harry Met Sally, when Sally is mailing a pile of letters and checks the chute after every single one? That’s me to a tee, and my husband always laughs at me. “It’s on a slant, of course the letter is going to go down into the box.” Well. WELL. I will tell you that the following events vindicated me forever. When I went to mail the card, I opened the chute to see at least six envelopes sitting there. Someone didn’t check! The mailbox was very full, which was preventing the envelopes from going down into the mailbox, and so I did my best to force them down, hoping I wasn’t crushing important things like photos or anything. It was crammed full, and so my entire arm was in the mailbox, trying to coax the envelopes down. I hoped no one was watching me, thinking I was committing mail fraud or theft. I briefly remembered the scene in The Simpsons where Homer gets his arm stuck in the pop machine, and there is discussion of amputation, when it is revealed that the reason his arm is stuck is because he will not let go of the can of pop. What if my arm gets stuck in this mailbox. Will I have to be rescued. If so, will the fire department arrive. If so, is it worth getting my arm stuck.

Speaking of pop machines, when I was at Costco for my Epic Grocery Day, I noticed that the pop machines were all equipped with credit card readers. Does no one carry change anymore? What an age we live in.

It was another weekend of treat-making to wrap up the season. I am now DONE. I think. There was a party at the studio and so I made cupcakes:

Because it was a yoga party, I wanted the cupcakes to be vegan. In the past I’ve used coconut oil to make vegan frosting, but it is not exactly ideal. For one thing, it either seizes or melts, and there is always a residual coconut taste, unless I use refined coconut oil, in which the taste is too bland. So, I bought a hippie vegan butter (or, “butter”) and I will tell you: I had my doubts. For one thing, after I had left it on the counter, as I would with regular butter, it was so soft that I had to scrape it out of its wrapping. It also tasted a lot like I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter. But I am here to tell you that it was the absolute best for frosting. I didn’t have to add any “milk,” it whipped up into perfect creaminess, and it set up nicely. It was much easier to work with than real butter, and much better tasting than coconut oil frosting, I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter taste aside. I used the remainder of the decimated candy canes to make it festive.

I baked 115 gingerbread men on Thursday for Friday decorating with the boys, and it went exactly as expected.

Sometimes it’s better not to ask questions, you know?

A hammer and sickle. Note the cookie is broken, “just like Communism.” Symbolism in gingerbread decorating.

This is “Okay Boomer” cookie, which the boys say to each other, and also to me. “I’m not a Boomer!” I’ll say, to which they respond “Okay Boomer.”

Well, I think we can all read what that one says.

Self explanatory.

My army of gingerbread men. I would like everyone to note that a) mine are the only ones that actually get eaten, as no one can stand eating as much artificial icing as the boys put on their cookies, and b) I am a machine. Of the 115 cookies, the vast majority are exactly like this. We will assimilate you.

Here’s to a – maybe? – slower, quieter week. Only one week until Christmas Eve! May your days be merry and bright, friends, and cookie-filled too. xo