Category Archives: I love my friends

PC LOAD LETTER?

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Last week my phone lit up with a notification from my friend Glenn (HI GLENN), from whom I hadn’t heard from in a while. We used to practice early morning Mysore yoga together, many years ago, and he kindly followed along with my family’s adventures, specifically the time when my younger son was the drummer for a band called Ded Brik, whose practice session was cut short one day when the guitarist’s neighbours called the police for a noise complaint, at two o’clock in the afternoon. Ah, pandemic days. It’s great how we were all collectively insane. In any case, I hadn’t heard from Glenn in a long while, and so I quickly opened his message.

I cannot take ALL the credit for BC’s decision to adopt Daylight Saving Time year-round, but I have been publicly raging against that particular pointless machine for 17 years. I’ll take a little credit, although I will believe it when it happens. My fragile heart cannot handle being shattered again. I am still scarred from the Alberta referendum which ended NOT in favour of stopping the ridiculous practice of changing clocks twice a year, merely because people could not agree if Standard or Daylight Saving was superior. I am Team Pick A Time And Stick With It, For Fuck’s Sake, I Don’t Care. There are pros and cons on both sides, LET’S JUST STOP THE MADNESS. I for one will be happy when the sun doesn’t set at 3:56 pm in December, and YES, the flip side is that it won’t rise until 8:45 am but it’s Canada. We don’t get much daylight in December, accept it and MOVE ON.

Anyway, the news we will not be going through this spring-forward-fall-back construct and that parents throughout this province will no longer be emotionally destroyed twice a year was a bright spot in an otherwise terrifying, bleak, and spiral-into-despair dystopian news cycle.

I texted the above gif to my older son, who immediately responded with I’m a fake? How’d you like to be dead, which reminded me of one of my favourite things: the call and response of pop culture. I know that if I texted my friend Hannah (HI HANNAH) with only the words Maybe it’s the beer talking that she would immediately respond with You got a butt that won’t quit. My friend Suzanne (HI SUZANNE) and I share an affinity for 1990s Adam Sandler; I know that I could tell her that she is a nice piece of ace and she would know exactly what I mean.

After Hannah responded to my It WAS a good name, until that no-talent ass clown started winning Grammies with Why should I change my name? He’s the one that sucks, we talked about this phenomenon, how the call and response makes a person feel seen and known. Hannah said that it was all about pattern recognition and identifying your people, and that rewatching media is about comfort and predictability. I think she is exactly right; I never before or since felt such a strong feeling of connection with my sister-in-law’s boyfriend than when he once said genially IT’S ALL PIPES.

Hannah said I actually think the increasingly fragmented media landscape has contributed to loss of social cohesion and she’s right. Obviously, not everything that is happening these days can be attributed to a lack of a must-see TV night, but it doesn’t help that we are all over the place, all the time when it comes to pop culture.

I tried to join the modern world last week by watching A Love Story, which is the story of JFK Jr and Caroline Bessette. I will go to my grave saying that Carole Radziwill’s What Remains is the best celebrity memoir of all time, and I have been low-key obsessed with it since I first read it in 2006. I thought she would be a key character in A Love Story so I tuned in, only to be constantly enraged by the idiocy and entitlement that comes with being a Kennedy man. After a quick search, I learned that Carole Radziwill isn’t even a character in this show, as she is not deemed to be important enough to be in the story. She was Carolyn Bessette’s best friend, and married to JFK Jr’s cousin and best friend Anthony Radziwill, who IS in the show, which feels PRETTY IMPORTANT. I immediately abandoned ship, as I’m Team I’m Here For Carole And No One Else, and also, I don’t need to be constantly enraged by JFK Jr and his stupid hats.

Before you ask, I have not and I will not watch the Real Housewives franchise that features Carole Radziwill, not because I’m a snob – given the chance, I’d watch Family Feud until the cows come home – but because there are just too many seasons. It’s overwhelming. Also I really don’t want to watch women screaming at each other, which I assume is a large part of the “storyline,” if indeed there is a storyline on a reality television show.

I did, however, recently watch a movie that I cannot stop thinking about, and that is The Best You Can starring Kevin Bacon and Kyra Sedgewick. First of all, how is Kevin Bacon still so hot? He might even be hotter than he ever was, or my tastes have just skewed older. I was on the plane from Vancouver to Hong Kong, and the premise intrigued me, but the headphones provided with the system did not work. I watched it silently, with closed captioning, and then on the next leg of the flight – mere hours later – I watched it again, this time with working headphones. It’s only available for purchase right now, or I would be watching it every single day. Alas. To fill the void, I have been watching Vladimir with my husband, which is also excellent – sexy but not porny, so I don’t feel weird if one of my sons is at home – and features John Slattery, who you may remember from Mad Men.

I cannot speak for all women, but what I wanted was to stop changing clocks and now – hopefully, please, let this happen – I am going to get it.

Weekly Reading

I had another DNF this week, it was So Old So Young. I abandoned it at 53 pages, and those 53 pages were a draggy slog for me, with SO many characters, none of which I cared about. My resolution to DNF more is resolution-ing! But maybe I should have done that more this week.

Wild Hope. Would you like some uplifting poetry? Of course you would! This is the collection for you. I have been reading a poem a day (or thereabouts) before my morning yoga practice, and they have been so uplifting and inspiring. The theme is – obviously, from the title – how to find hope in the world when things seem broken. THIS RESONATES. It’s a really beautiful collection about finding happiness and hope within ourselves and with our relationships with people and the natural world.

The Latecomer. Wow, wow, WOW. This book! I loved every word of this dense, nuanced, character-driven novel about a family with triplets who – despite their mother’s desperate best efforts – cannot wait to leave home, and each other. As the triplets prepare to leave for college, their mother has what seems like a Landslide moment and promptly adds another baby to the family. But things are not what they seem – secrets abound, and things are unravelling. Every character in this book is layered and rich and interesting. There was a plot twist I did not see coming, and the ending was eminently satisfying. I loved this so much.

Finding Grace. I…do not know what to say. I really don’t know how to review this book without spoilers, but I’m going to try. There is a wildly unexpected occurrence in the first chapter that sets everything in motion, namely a very weird series of coincidences which lead to a very weird relationship. I would go so far as to say a creepy and inappropriate relationship. And the ending was weirdly unexpected and tied everything up in a weirdly neat bow. So. I guess this book is about grief and also about a marriage that sounds kind of shitty, and about how keeping secrets can be toxic and how people aren’t always what they seem? I guess? Other than the children, the characters are across the board pretty unlikeable, and the story itself goes in a lot of directions. 

The Stationery Shop. It’s not you, it’s me. I know – I KNOW – that historical fiction rarely works for me, and this didn’t. I was optimistic that I would enjoy this, after listening to The Rest Is History’s fascinating series on the 1953 ousting of the Iranian Prime Minister and the subsequent Revolution of 1979, which is the backdrop for this love story. I should have known better. It did not work for me; these sorts of books are just too contrived and stilted for my taste.

My husband asked me if I have become more critical in my reading, from my own writing experience, and I would say that I have become more analytical. My mind, like our society, has become polarized: on the one hand, being transported by a book like The Latecomers fills me with awe and admiration. It’s really hard to write a book, and to write a book like The Latecomers is an incredible feat indeed. On the other hand, I find it kind of disheartening when I read a book that has a lot of buzz and love, and it leaves me cold. Well, there’s something for everyone, I suppose, and tastes differ. On a literary note, the lovely Jacqui (HI JACQUI) mentioned a zero-cost way to support me, should you be so inclined, which is to request a copy of Inhale Exhale at your local library. That would be a huge help – there are literally millions of books coming out every year, and mine is but a tiny drop in the ocean. I’d love it to be as accessible as possible. Thank you, friends, for reading along. Have a beautiful week! xo

Reason, Season, Lifetime

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In yoga, we try to cultivate what is known as “beginner’s mind,” which means that we want to approach our practices with openness and a sense of curiosity, letting go of expectations of what we “should” be doing, and focusing on what we are doing. In this way we can experience growth and mindfulness, without preconceived notions, judgement, or ego getting in the way. For example, just because I could do this in 2012 doesn’t mean I should be able to do it now:

My yoga practice looks much different these days, but it is still nourishing and joyful.

My friend Tara (HI TARA) sent me this Facebook memory from 2009:

No context needed, really, given that on that date I had two preschoolers and a puppy in the house, the days are long but the years are short, etcetera. This little gem explains a lot of what was going on in my house at the time, and it also made me think how incredible children’s minds are, and how their view of the world is so full of wonder and curiosity. My friend Pearl (HI PEARL) wrote about how, instead of “living every day as if it’s your last,” we should live every day as if it’s your FIRST. It reminded me of how I spent hours, literally hours every week just walking around the neighbourhood with the boys and standing there staring at different cars or trees, because they were fascinated with them. The whole world is fresh and new from a child’s point of view. There was a mechanic who lived at the end of our block; he had many cars in his yard that were in various states of disrepair, and the boys would spend HOURS peeking through the fence to look at the cars. HOURS. Occasionally there would be construction or demolition in our neighbourhood, and we could eat up an entire afternoon just watching it. There were always rocks to pick up and house decorations to notice, there were puddles to splash in and sticks to brandish, making me concerned that someone was going to lose an eye. We spent so much time doing what would appear to be nothing from the outside observer.

This was a time of my life where I was very in the moment, even if my mind occasionally wandered while the kids splashed in snowmelt. I was very present, in large part because smartphones weren’t around then, and there was nothing to do but watch the kids at play. I would like to remember it as a time of great mindfulness and presence, and I do, but truthfully I remember it as being often very lonely.

Every time my life has changed and I’ve entered a new era, I’ve been a bit nervous, worried about making new friends. The years before my children were in elementary school were lonely ones, particularly when they were babies. I did have friends, but scheduling playdates with everyone’s naptimes and preschool and the inevitable viruses that all the children had in perpetuity was difficult, and even when we did get together, conversation was constantly interrupted by said children. I went to a weekly playgroup but friendships never got past the surface level. Some of it, I think, was the inability to converse uninterrupted, but some of it was weird parenting time that we were in. Gen X women, it seemed, reacted to their own free range childhoods by becoming total weirdos when it came to parenting, especially in those early years. One had only to bring cupcakes with pink frosting to a soccer game to garner judgement and disdain. A certain kind of conversation about breast or bottle feeding could drive a wedge between two women, and bad feelings could fester forever.

Friends truly do come into your life for a reason, season, or lifetime. I have been so lucky to have found a circle of women here who are the epitome of encouraging, of lifting up other women. This weekend, they gave me a party, and I am still so warm and fuzzy from it. I mean, would you look at this cake?

My friend Sandi (HI SANDI), who was the beta reader that gave me the title Inhale Exhale, had this VEGAN cake made! Isn’t it incredible?

Can you even? Can you even believe this? It was beautiful.

In my Ask Me Anything, Anna asked how I met my wonderful new friend group, and the truth is that I was very, very fortunate (HI ANNA). I had been friends with Sam, hostess with the mostess (HI SAMMI) since 2014, and when I moved here, she threw a girls’ night to introduce me to some of her friends. Then some of those friends introduced me to their friends, and now we have a circle. We are all in a similar stage of life and we are all open to meeting and getting together and doing fun things. It’s a real gift; I was very worried that I would be lonely here, but it’s been the opposite, as you can see. (HI SQUAD).

Suzanne (HI SUZANNE) asked what is an absolute deal breaker in a friendship and I’ve been thinking about that since she asked it, months ago. I would be much more likely to reseat the theatre than to dramatically end a friendship, to be honest. I mean, if someone was a toxic mean bigot, that would be a deal-breaker, but I probably wouldn’t be friends with such a person in the first place. I have had friendships fade away, and I have been ghosted, but if someone has time for me, generally speaking I’m going to have time for them.

It’s interesting that the word “friend” is such a wide umbrella term for me. In the same way that I use “love” to describe both my feelings for my children and for Aperol spritzes, I use “friend” very liberally. Former schoolmates who I haven’t seen for decades but keep up with on Facebook, a random woman I met at a blog conference in 2013, the people I talk to briefly every morning on the walking path, all of these people I consider my friends. But on the other end of the spectrum are the lifelong friends who have seen me through every iteration, and loved me all the same, even during my Jim Morrison poetry phase. There are also the local friends, my squad, who I see regularly and miss desperately when I don’t talk to them for three days. And then there are the long distance friends who make an effort to keep in touch and who I might not see for years at a time, but when we do it’s like no time at all has passed.

Of course, there are all of you, my long-distance blog friends and readers, my pen pals. Without all of you, these words would just be floating off into the abyss, and so I’m grateful for all of you.

Weekly Reading

Just one book this week but it was a big one, clocking in at almost 500 pages.

Homeseeking. This is an epic story that follows two people over a six-decade span, from their childhood home in Shanghai to Hong Kong, Taiwan, and the US. This is the kind of book that you want to read with references – I learned so much about Chinese history, the Chinese diaspora, relations with Taiwan, and multiple languages. The author makes a very interesting stylistic choice, telling the story from both points of view but in different timelines. She also changes the names subtly to reflect the different languages being spoken (Shanghainese, Taiwainese, Mandarin, Cantonese, English). It’s a love story but it’s also a story of devastating choices and occurrences. I’m not going to spoil anything, but I did wonder what would have happened to the male character had he stayed in Shanghai; I think he would have been killed in the Cultural Revolution. I learned a lot reading this, and I’m really glad I read it.

Happy March, everyone! One of my dear new friends just turned 50 yesterday, and I’m so excited for her to enter this new decade. Thirty years ago I kind of thought 50 was the end of the line, so to speak, and even fifteen years ago I thought it would be a wrenching time of Landslide feelings. Now I realize it is a decade for reinvention and revival, and the empty – or semi-empty – nest has allowed me space to really cultivate and bring richness to my relationships, with friends and with my marriage, and also with my adult children. Spring is springing here in the Okanagan Valley, and I am feeling the renewal. I plan to spend this month, and hopefully all to come, with the goal of viewing the world with a beginner’s mind, with curiosity and awareness. The buds on the trees are swelling, the perennials are greening, the grey and clouds of winter have lifted, and I spent time yesterday weeding. It’s happening! I hope you all have a beautiful, lamb-like first week of March. xo

Deep Breath: The Journey To Inhale Exhale

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“Move about after dinner, and meet acquaintance whose name I have forgotten, but connect with literature. I ask if he has published anything lately. He says that his work is not, and never can be, for publication. Thought passes through my mind to the effect that this attitude might with advantage be adopted by many others.” EM Delafield, Diary of a Provincial Lady, one of my favourite books

Last Tuesday, I had an epiphany while on the elliptical trainer. I realized that my new work in progress is all wrong. I was 21000 words in, and I had been going about it all wrong. All wrong! I decided I was going to just start over, from the very beginning, rather than pivoting and making changes in the next draft. Two days later, I got my period.

Many of you will remember that 2023 was a year of change and transition for me, not to mention a year of numerous non-hormonal emotional breakdowns. We moved here in July of 2023, and by late August I was a bit at loose ends, having unpacked and settled in. I missed my yoga students and I missed teaching, but I could not handle even the thought of starting all over again in that world.

My husband encouraged me to take some creative writing courses and write that book I’d always talked about, and in the fall of that year I registered in a series of online courses at UBC to do just that. With my yoga students in mind, and with great nostalgia for the Calgary Yoga Shala, I planned my story. I took the first two UBC courses – How To Write a Novel: Structure and Outline, and Writing the Draft – that fall, and I took the third and final course, Edit and Revise, in January 2025, at which point I was starting my third draft of what would become Inhale Exhale. It took me just shy of six months to write the first draft, and then a year after that to revise it to something I was satisfied with.

I spent a lot of time soul-searching and meditating about what to do with my project. It was written with joy; it was such a happy and fun process, taking an idea and creating characters. I was very happy with the end result, and I wanted to share it with the world. But how?

Last week, in my Monday night writing group – created while taking the UBC courses – my friend Jen said something that really resonated with me (HI JEN). She said that turning 50 made a switch go off for her, a sense of urgency. There’s no time to fuck around anymore. It’s really true. I have found, since turning 50, that I have a desperate urge to do all the things that I thought I would do someday. I might live another 50 years, it’s true, but I also might not. When it comes to friends, family, and former classmates, there have been an astonishing number of deaths, death scares, and diagnoses in the past couple of years. No one knows how much time we have left. What if I die before I do the things I want to do?

I don’t know how much you know about the publishing industry, but the path to traditional publication is complicated and full of blockades. The typical path is that after many, many months of querying, an author gets an agent, who may or may not be able to sell a book to a publisher, and that book may or may not see the light of day. It’s a very long process at the very best of times, and unless an author is of Elin Hildebrand or Stephen King stature, there is almost no money to be made. Very few authors earn out their advances, and when asked the question about how authors pay their bills, my creative writing instructor said they get a second or third job, like teaching creative writing. Something that may surprise you is that book tours are funded at least partially, if not totally, by the author, not the publisher. Authors are expected to do a lot of the legwork in terms of promotion, and on top of that, the royalty percentage through traditional publication is very small.

So one does not write a book for the money, but that’s okay, because I wasn’t. I was writing a book because I wanted to write a book; I love writing, and I hoped that people would read and enjoy my writing. I did not want my book to sit in a drawer, unread, while I desperately queried agents for years, getting rejection letter after rejection letter. Do you know how often rejection happens? It’s a real thing, and I guarantee that all of your favourite authors went through many rejections before being published. As an example, Lisa Genova’s Still Alice was rejected over one hundred times, at which point she self-published. It was picked up later and reissued by Simon and Schuster, but still. OVER ONE HUNDRED REJECTIONS. Kathryn’s Stockett went through sixty rejections over three and a half years before someone picked up The Help. New authors can be rejected dozens of times AT MINIMUM, and I just didn’t have it in me. Also, as mentioned before, I didn’t feel I had time.

So I decided that I was going to go the hybrid publishing route, which means that as an author, I would pay for editing services, cover design, and promotional and positioning assistance. I had done a cost-benefit analysis, being an economist, and decided this was the way to go. I had received a monetary gift from my parents for my fiftieth birthday, and I felt that there was no better way to spend it than to invest in something that had been a lifelong dream for me. My thinking was that even if I failed, even if I did not sell one single book, even if everyone who read it hated it, at least I would have tried. At least I would have accomplished something I always wanted to accomplish.

And I’m so glad I did, friends. I’m just so glad. Live your life with arms wide open! Do the thing, take the chance, dip your toe into the water. We don’t know how much time we’ve got, so let’s take advantage of life while we can.

Weekly Reading

As I alluded to last week, I had some great reads this week. Oh, I am excited to talk about them!

Heart the Lover. I have been waiting so long to read this and wow, it did not disappoint! I loved it so much. Lily King is such a talented writer; she conveys so much emotion in such a spare and economical way. This book is filled with emotion and absolutely heart-wrenching scenes. It shows us how choices affect our lives, and what it is like to take a turn at the fork in the road. It’s about past loves and current lives, and how mistakes, pride, regrets and lapses in judgement colour our world. She perfectly conveys what it is like to be in love at a young age, she perfectly conveys what it is like to build a life with a long-standing love. One thing I really loved is what it was like to have a long-distance relationship in the late 80s/ early 90s. It was HARD to get in touch with each other. Letters took a long time and phone calls were expensive. She smoothly moves between timelines in a deft and perfect way. I LOVED THIS BOOK.

Why We Can’t Sleep. My friend and book twin Anna (HI ANNA) had mentioned this book, and she said that it was both interesting and depressing. She was right on both counts! This is all about Gen X girls such as myself entering midlife, and all of the challenges we as a generation face. I found a lot of it relatable, although not all – some pieces seem to me to be uniquely American, such as crippling debt from student loans and medical bills, along with short or nonexistent unpaid maternity leaves. Still, there’s lots for us Canadian girlies to relate to. To me the most interesting part was the chapter entitled “The Very Filtered Profile Picture” for the discussion of body image and aging. I laughed – out loud! – at the quote “I’m not looking for inner peace,” a friend quipped when I asked her about why she skipped the resting stage of Savasana at the end of a yoga class. “I’m looking for outer hotness.” I also liked the discussion about seeing the task of living well in a negative, self-punishing way, such as “I should be exercising more/ eating better/ being the most mindful ever.” This was published in 2020, and I wondered what the author would say these days, post-pandemic, insane-news-cycle. Then I remembered she authored the WILD novel Crush, about polyamory, in 2025. Was that what was happening for her during the pandemic? I mean, I can only speculate.

Surfacing. CANLIT FOREVER! I don’t know how I got to this age, as a lifelong Margaret Atwood fan, without reading this book! This is the type of book that requires careful line reading and analysis; it contains a lot of symbolism, with themes of gender and national identity. This was published in 1972, which was a time of great importance for Canadian identity, as well as for feminism, and these parallel themes weave together in a story about a woman searching for her missing father in an island in northern Quebec. I really loved it.

Thank you to everyone who entered into the giveaway for a signed copy of Inhale Exhale; the winner of the random draw is Lorraine Anderson! Congratulations, Lorraine! I will contact you for your details. A huge thank you to everyone who has purchased a copy! If I may impose, it would be SO helpful if you left a (five star?) rating and review at Goodreads, Storygraph, or Amazon? Reviews are incredibly important, especially for new authors. And thank you all for being here. I hope you all have a beautiful week. xo

Five For Friday: The So Very Grateful Edition

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Inhaling Love, Exhaling Happiness. First of all, thank you all SO much for your enthusiasm and support for Inhale Exhale! I am overwhelmed with love and happiness. I have been receiving so many lovely messages and it means the world to me. My little novel is but a drop in the ocean of books released every year, but every time someone shares on social media, leaves a review, or blogs about it, the ripples get larger, and for that I am so very grateful. Thank you to everyone who has purchased a copy, shared a post, rated, and reviewed! Big thanks to Suzanne (HI SUZANNE) who very kindly hosted a giveaway, and to Coco, Michelle, Julie, Sarah, SHU, Alondra, Laura, Allison, Kyria, Maya, and Birchie, for the blog links. (HI SUZANNE COCO MICHELLE JULIE SARAH SHU ALONDRA LAURA ALLISON KYRIA MAYA BIRCHIE) (If I missed you, please let me know! I had over 200 unread posts in my reader on Monday, so apologies if things got lost in the shuffle!).

My book, in Vietnam!

Where In The World Was I? My husband and I were in Southeast Asia! We visited four countries, if you include the day and a half we spent in Hong Kong – which I do! – which meant four border crossings, four different currencies, and four languages in which I learned how to say hello, thank you, and vegetarian. I also learned how to say this food is delicious in Thai. In addition to our brief time in Hong Kong, we were in Vietnam, Cambodia, and Thailand, three neighbouring but very different countries. I will have more to say about that on Monday’s post; for now I will just tell you that it was a wonderful trip in which we saw and experienced incredible, interesting things. Travel is a big priority for us right now since we are both healthy, fit, and mobile, and as we all know, a person cannot take those things for granted. I hope we will be healthy, fit, and mobile for many decades to come, but you just never know. As we went through this trip, it occurred to me constantly that such travel would be very difficult for people with mobility and health issues. Steps and stairs, uneven walking surfaces, long hours on buses and planes – none of these things get easier with age, and so we have a pretty heavy travel schedule planned for the next few years. Health! I am grateful for it.

Getting steps in, literally.

Time Travel. Speaking of long hours on planes, it took us over twenty-six hours of travel to get from our house to Vietnam, and because we flew over the international date line, we skipped a day. On the way home, we left Hong Kong at 1 am on Monday night and arrived on Canadian soil at 7:45 pm Sunday, and it was nearly midnight before we were back at our house. Time travel! I should have bought a lottery ticket. It took until Wednesday for me to not feel that bone-deep, jetlagged fatigue, and to be able to do anything that required more than minimal brain function. I mean, I forgot the word for “lunch.” I will say that we had lie-flat seats for the long flights, which helped immensely, and I am, again, grateful to be able to travel this way.

Travel, make new friends.

Staying Healthy, Somehow. I am almost hesitant to write this lest I be smote, but my husband and I were healthy the entire trip, and have been since we got home. How, I do not know. It was pretty easy to avoid Traveller’s Tummy, because we only consumed hot, cooked meals, peeled fruit, and filtered water, but I don’t know how we dodged the coughs and colds that seem to be rampant. We were in many very crowded places, including several planes, and by the end of the trip it seemed like a third of our tour group was coughing and sneezing on the bus. There was even some dramatic tension between two friends travelling together and sharing a room, one of whom had a cough and the other of whom treated the cougher like a leper. I mean, I get it. No one wants to get sick! And I am grateful that I didn’t. But also? I felt for the poor cougher, who was – from my vantage point – being a bit shunned by her group of friends that had travelled with her.

The crowds in Bangkok were wild! This is in the Grand Palace, the site of the Emerald Buddha.
On the other hand, there were plenty of serene moments.

Today Is Galentine’s Day! It is officially Galentine’s Day today – February 13, where ladies celebrate ladies, and I am raising my glass to all of you. And, if you are a man reading this blog, you can be an honourary member of the Gals, just for today. I hope you enjoy my perimenopause content, and discussions about body sugaring. But as you all know I do adore my girlfriends, near and far, longtime and new, and everything in between. Where would we be without our gal pals? I don’t even want to think about it!

For the month of February, my friend Elisabeth (HI ELISABETH) is hosting The FIG Collective, where we all find joy in gratitude. I am grateful every single day for my life, but this week I am especially grateful for all of these things – the ability to travel, lie-flat airplane seats, health, and, most of all, the friendship and support from all of you. To show my gratitude, I am going to be doing some giveaways, both here and over on Instagram. To win a signed copy of Inhale Exhale, simply leave a comment and tell me one thing you are grateful for this very minute. If you already have a copy, OMG THANK YOU, and also I would be pleased to send, in the event that your name is drawn, the copy either to you or to a friend of your choice, in honour of Galentine’s Day. Contest closes February 21, 2026 11:59 pm PST.

I have so many things to tell you! I want to talk to you all about my trip, and books that I’ve been reading and rereading, and – since you asked in my Ask Me Anything – my thoughts about friendship, and my writing and publishing process, and SO MANY THINGS. But alas, all of those things will have to wait a few days. Happy Galentine’s – and Valentine’s! I am wishing for you an abundance of love, pink puffy hearts, and heart-shaped chocolates. And maybe a virtual elephant hug. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The “It Was Warm and Smelled of Yummy Things” Edition

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At this time of year when my kids were small, we would read many holiday-themed books, and the favourite of all of ours was The Littlest Christmas Tree, about a tiny tree who despairs of ever becoming a Christmas tree because of his diminutive size.

Eventually the tree is taken by the tree lot man, who is actually a squirrel. “They walked for what seemed like forever, and then suddenly stopped. The man carried the Littlest Tree inside, where it was warm and smelled of yummy things. The Littlest Tree looked around and thought Oh, this must be a home.“

I would pause at that point because the three of us would all be teary-eyed and emotional. This must be a home. I think about that all the time, and to this day both of my sons remind me of it.

One of my goals in life has been to have a home that feels like a home, warm and smelling of yummy things, and I think I have achieved that. My sons told me that our house WAS famous for its smell of baking and general plethora of baked goods, back in the day when it would be swarmed by boys. This is MUCH better than one friend, whose house apparently smelled like garbage, and another, whose house smelled like feet. Well, that latter one had three boys in athletics, so there’s really no getting around that.

Anyway, I do think this is the season for warmth and yummy things, and on that note:

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The “It Was Warm and Smelled of Yummy Things” Edition

It’s Mint Chocolate Season, Motherfuckers

Am I just going to say It’s X Season, Motherfuckers for every single Favourites Thing post going forward? I make no promises but it feels like a pattern. Every fall – or, technically, late summer – the Pumpkin Spice People get all excited, and I am happy for them, but I am not of them. I merely think yes, yes, my pretties, wait until November 1st, when it is MY time to shine. Oh, how I love mint chocolate. I love it in all iterations. I love making mint squares and peppermint bark – both, I should say, are vegan, if that’s something you look for in your holiday treats – I love eating peppermint Lindt and York patties and After Eights and even Chipits mint chips straight out of the bag, in a minty emergency. In my recent Ask Me Anything, San (HI SAN) asked what my favourite ice cream flavour is and, sadly, ice cream is no longer part of my life. Well, non-dairy ice cream is, but I have yet to find my favourite flavour in non-dairy form, namely mint chocolate chip.

No matter. Frozen minty treats are just as good!

Typically, I drink my coffee black. When you drink in excess of fifty cups a week, black is definitely the way to go. However, on weekends I like what I call, when talking to Rex, a little treat-treat, and then I pull out the peppermint mocha non-dairy creamer.

Isn’t that mug adorable? My niece picked it out for me, saying Aunty Nicole loves mugs AND gnomes, we have to get it! It’s true! I DO love both of those things!

Wine Time

Speaking of gnomes, my dear friends Jen and Dom (HI JEN HI DOM) gave me these VERY fancy wine glasses for my birthday. Wine, gnomes, Christmas? ALL OF MY FAVOURITES ROLLED INTO ONE.

It reminded me somewhat of a little friend of my son’s who, for her sixth birthday, declared the party theme to be ROYAL CHRISTMAS TEA PARTY!!! My friend, her mother, thought that was a lot of specificity for a sixth birthday party and yet, the Royal Christmas Tea Party went off without a hitch. For me, my weekly wine time is now Christmas Gnome Wine Party!

Love Makes Little Things Grow

Speaking of gnomes, my friend Joy (HI JOY), who is the actual physical embodiment of her name brought me this:

Isn’t it the cutest? If that wasn’t enough for my off-season growing love, my friend Sandi (HI SANDI) gave me an amaryllis bulb.

Since Noelle, my non-blooming Christmas cactus is not only still non-blooming, but seems to be almost dead, I’m happy to have something new to grow and love.

Does anyone remember the television show Clifford’s Puppy Days, where the theme song was Love Makes Little Things Grow? If you need a little nostalgic festive cry, there’s your link.

Isn’t She Lovely

For those of you following along with the Saga of the Stand Mixer, here is the beauty that now graces my home. Buddy the Elf, what’s your favourite colour? This! This is my favourite colour although not, obviously, for clothing. Wearing robin-egg blue makes me look corpse-adjacent.

When you have an appliance for a long time, you get used to the way that it works, you know all its little quirks and ways, and then when a new appliance comes along, the difference in functionality is vast. This was like trading in a broken down old Dodge Caravan with wood siding for a Porsche 911. I was absolutely astonished at how well this new mixer works, how efficient and quick it mixes everything together perfectly. It has an attachment that has a SPATULA BUILT IN. It scrapes the bowl ALL BY ITSELF. It is a whole new world for me, friends. It made baking my grandma’s gingersnaps a snap.

Let me tell you, this made our house smell like yummy things, because these are the yummiest cookies around.

Scent of a Cookie-Woman

I have long loved Dove products, and when I saw a set of Limited Edition Sugar Cookie-scented products, I was all in. Marketers know what’s what, let me tell you. They know someone like me is shopping for just a regular product, but then the words Limited Edition jump out, and before you know it, I’m exfoliating and shaving with things that smell like…well, not really sugar cookies. I would never sniff this and say sugar cookies, yes. It’s a pleasant, ginger-forward scent which I do not associate with sugar cookies, but, as mentioned above, I do enjoy it.

Outfit of the Month

I was invited to a festive Sunday afternoon open house, which is a very fun kind of gathering that calls for what I think of as Festive Casual Fashion. I had a perfect outfit for it, but before I get to that, let me tell you about the two remarkable things that happened at said party.

First, I was talking to a woman who I had just met, and we were doing the customary small-talk of basic backstories when she interrupted me to say that the math wasn’t adding up. She went on to say that I must be older than she thought, because I had mentioned my sons and their ages, 20 and 21. This woman thought I was thirty-five or thirty-six. Reader, I married her.

Another woman, unknown to both of us, joined in on our conversation and this is where things took a turn. We three were talking about our dogs, all of us being dog people and dog lovers, and this is a very important point. All of us. Dog lovers. Dog owners. When I mentioned Rex the Bernedoodle, the new woman asked if I knew much about the breed, before going on to say that Bernese Mountain dogs are notably short-lived, and the Bernese that she had known had all died not long past their fifth birthday. This was after – AFTER – I had relayed Rex’s age, which is four and a half. She hoped, she said, that this wouldn’t be the case for me. Maybe, she mused aloud, the poodle part would add to the longevity, but who knew, because, as she said before, every Bernese she knew died young.

If you could have seen the look on my face and that on the woman who mistook me for someone much younger. Our faces were the absolute personification of What The Fuck. We both stood, mute, with mouths open, heads tilted to the side, and a slight furrow in our brows.

I think I even made that hand gesture, before excusing myself to get another cookie. Some people are just VERY BAD at conversation, and this woman was clearly such a person. She didn’t even backpedal, she just KEPT GOING. Small dogs live so long! And big ones die early. Especially Bernese.

Anyway. Let’s get to the outfit! These pants are probably the most comfortable pants ever, and that is coming from someone who has spent the entirety of 2025 searching for and wearing comfortable pants. They are from Lululemon, and the turtleneck sweater is one I’ve had for a decade or so. The boots are winter ones, and the pendant was a gift from Sandi, last Christmas (HI SANDI, AGAIN). (I gave her my heart) (the very next day she gave it away but gave me a pendant instead which I love and wear for every occasion that I can).

I hope you are having a week in which you are warm, and surrounded by the smells of yummy things. I personally will be making more yummy things on the weekend, because this week, friends, THIS WEEK. I am a husk of a woman, let’s put it that way. I had multiple administrative things to do before Friesen Press closes for the holiday season, I went to the MALL to buy a new phone, which yay, new phone, but also, the mall the week before Christmas is not for the faint of heart, and speaking of things that are not for the faint of heart, I was at Costco and Superstore. I will only say that in both cases I kept saying to myself put your patience pants on and everyone is a beginner at some point, not everyone is adept at Costco shopping and we are all gathered together in this thing called life, buying groceries. I will say that I got into a very involved and lovely conversation with an employee who was tidying the carts in the parking lot. It started with apples and ended up with Nickelback and Guy Fieri, both of whom the Cart Fellow had met and both of whom we admire. Do not come at me! I am unapologetic in my love for both, and I will hear no dissenters!

Take care of yourselves during this busy time, friends. Don’t forget to treat yourself to some yummy things. Maybe take a trip to Flavourtown! xo

Together Again

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The Boys Are Back In Town

My husband and son have returned from their hiking trip in Scotland! They hiked the West Highland Way, which worked out to be 154 kilometres over eight days, and they enjoyed Edinburgh as well. It was quite the adventure, and it’s great to have them home.

After two weeks of eating out, they were pretty excited for some, as my husband put it, home cooking. For some reason that phrase feels like a weird sexual euphemism, I blame Paul Newman. In any case, both of them requested a Big Fun Salad, and I was only too happy to comply.

Salad Days

They had great timing, as it turned out, because I just cut what was the last of the kale and spinach. I have pulled the plants and will be reseeding in a few weeks, when the bulk of the hot weather has subsided for the year, and hopefully I will have a nice fall harvest.

I guess it will be farm market kale and spinach for me until mid-September, but in the meantime, I am not short of tomatoes or zucchini.

Zen and the Art of Gardening and Piano Playing

These vegetables don’t grow themselves, people. Well, the zucchinis kind of do. But the garden itself takes a lot of work and I spend at least an hour a day tending to it, the perennials, and my flower pots. I always leave my phone in the house and just concentrate on the plants, and it is a very zen practice. There is something so meditative about weeding, which, along with laundry, is one of the most Sisyphean tasks ever. Other Sisyphean garden tasks include picking tomatoes and zucchini, but those tasks at least result in yumminess.

I read The Connection Cure this week – more about that in the Weekly Reading section – and it sparked a lot of thinking about the things we do for our mental and physical health. Gardening is one of them for me, but I don’t know if I would say that I am always in the moment while doing it. More likely, while I weed or deadhead or harvest, my mind is wandering about what the hell am I going to do with all these tomatoes, do I have time to roast them later to freeze, and how long will it take to grate up all these zucchinis, and also what am I going to write about this week, and would anyone be interested in a deep dive on The Duchess, and how sexy was Ralph Fiennes, and I wonder if The English Patient is on Netflix and would it be weird to just fast-forward to all the sexy scenes, and how Lady Chatterley’s Lover was basically soft-core porn, and also they changed the ending, and oh my god, look at that butterfly!

Similar things happen in my brain when I’m walking or cooking or doing anything household-task-related, but almost never while I’m exercising or practicing yoga. The one time I can guarantee that I will 100% be in the moment is when I’m playing piano. I have seen people carry on conversations while playing, but I absolutely cannot. I don’t even think about the next note, I am only ever thinking about the note I am playing the second that I am playing it, which makes it, for me, the most Zen practice of them all. I mean, if I so much as thought of Ralph Fiennes I would lose my place in the music, let alone any idle thoughts about my husband pretending to be a gamekeeper on a large English estate, asking me if I would like coarser treatment.

Freshen Your Drink, Governor?

As I mentioned last week, I have taken the opportunity of alone time to watch several British period dramas, and they have not disappointed. Despite my general dislike of book-to-screen adaptations, I rewatched Sense and Sensibility, which, along with Emma and Pride and Prejudice, cycles in and out of being my Number One Jane Austen Favourite Book. I also watched the aforementioned Lady Chatterley’s Lover, which contains not only full frontal nudity but also such graphic sex scenes that I did wonder how they could possibly be filmed without actual penetration, or at least a massive boner on the part of the gamekeeper. I score pretty much zero on the Kinsey scale, and yet I never want to see full frontal male nudity on the big screen, even when the screen is just my TV. As Elaine Benes said, The female body is a work of art. The male body is utilitarian. It’s for getting around, like a Jeep.

Nudity or not, the movie was completely engrossing, as was The Duchess – so good! – and The Other Boleyn Girl, which, along with a rewatch of the first three episodes of Downton Abbey, completed my British Period Drama Fortnight.

There is a growing movement among streaming services to cater to what is called second-screening, which is the phenomenon of watching TV while being on a phone. Streaming services are creating shows that are meant to be watched while distracted, and so there will be a lot of repeated dialogue and summarization of events.

I put the blame entirely on the glorification of multitasking, which I consider to be an incredibly harmful and focus-fracturing concept. Just like I cannot talk and play piano simultaneously, no one, but no one, can actually put mental energy into two things at the same time. It’s just not possible! Sure, we are all listening to podcasts while folding laundry, but I would submit that folding laundry requires very little mental energy. The idea that we can scroll on our phones while watching a movie and absorb any information at all is ridiculous. Bring back single-tasking! Let’s just focus on doing one thing at a time! Including watching TV!

I’m Your Biggest Fan, This Is Stan

Something that almost always absorbs all my attention is a good book; I love that feeling of just sinking into a delicious state of reading. If you follow me on Instagram you know that I post all of my book reviews over there, and I have mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, I want to be honest in all my reviews, but on the other hand, I don’t want to be mean or negative if I don’t enjoy a book. It’s a tricky balance, but on the flip side, I want everyone to know when I truly love a book, and if you remember from last week, I posted a glowing review about Standard Deviation by one of my favourite authors, Katherine Heiny.

I casually logged into Instagram to see that I had a new follower, and friends, I cannot be calm or casual about this: KATHERINE HEINY HAD FOLLOWED ME. Not only that, but she sent me a direct message saying that she was “flattered to be anyone’s writing goals, but you are very funny already.” OH MY GOD PEOPLE.

I might have passed out for a moment. Katherine Heiny! Sent me a message! I have all of her books on my Favourites Shelf! I am as starstruck as a person could be! Katherine Heiny, who I adore and whose writing is over-the-top incredible!

NO I CANNOT CHILL.

And speaking of books…

Weekly Reading

The Connection Cure. I heard this author interviewed on the Ologies podcast, and I found her so fascinating that I knew I would have to read her book. Social prescriptions are growing around the world, and address environmental factors in wellness; instead of asking “what is the matter with you,”’ the question is “what matters to you.” There is a growing body of empirical evidence that links positive health outcomes with movement, time in nature, artistic endeavours, acts of service, and a feeling of belonging. It is all very common sense, but still it was shocking to me to read about the loneliness epidemic, how it has increased since 2020, and the debilitating impacts it can have on health. An important note is that social prescriptions – finding a community, helping a person discover a feeling of belonging, or joy through art, along with movement practices and time in nature – are to be used in conjunction with modern medicines and therapies. Overall an interesting read.

How To Be Married. Jo Piazza is a pretty buzzy author these days, but this book – part memoir, part non-fiction dive into how marriage is viewed in other countries and cultures – came out in 2017, before the buzz. It’s been a while since I myself was a newlywed – in fact, I don’t really remember what our first year of marriage was like – but I found this to be an entertaining and touching read. The tagline mentions her “really hard” first year of marriage, and my thoughts ran to infidelity, dark secrets, and disagreements about loading the dishwasher, but the reality was much sadder. Four months after she was married, the author learned that she had the genetic mutation for muscular dystrophy, which had left her own father extremely disabled and her mother – his caretaker – to have a nervous breakdown from the stress and resentment that comes from being a caretaker. She also lost her job right after they signed a mortgage on a house in San Francisco, a notoriously expensive city. I found the book very interesting and the peek into other cultures to be fascinating. Apparently I am like a Frenchwoman, I learned, as I would never in a million years use the toilet with the door open. Some things, as the Frenchwomen said, should be private.

The God of Small Things. My friend Maya (HI MAYA) had mentioned this book and I was surprised that I hadn’t already read it, as it was published in 1997. It is a heartbreaking, beautifully written book about a family in Kerlala, a terrible tragedy, and the shocking aftermath. It concerns caste, family ties, and dark secrets, and it is so moving and absolutely compelling. The story jumps timelines which might be confusing to some, but I found I was completely immersed, and so I was able to absorb it in stride.

I’ve wanted to see Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat for thirty years, and on Friday I finally did! We were in the front row, which meant two of my girlfriends ended up receiving leis from one of the cast members – cue getting lei’d jokes – and it was a really great night out. As a child, the story of Joseph was one that was incredibly wild and disturbing to me – parental favouritism, selling one’s sibling to slavery, tricking another sibling into thinking he was going to be imprisoned or killed – but the musical itself is a hoot. I hope your week is filled with delight and music, and doing only one thing at a time. xo

Alone Again, Naturally

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Time, Unspooling

Something I did not calculate in my recent time-tracking project was the amount of time that I spend in conversation with the people I live with, mainly my husband. I realized, as he has been on his Tour de Scotland, that a lot of time is spent talking, which makes many of my tasks longer than when the only thing I hear is the Sound of Silence or, technically, the Sound of Podcasts. The point is that my tasks this past week have all been completely uninterrupted, which, coupled with the fact that my novel is in for final edits, led to a lot of free time. I have filled some of this time with various long-neglected photo projects and with British period dramas. Mostly, though, I am reading and talking a lot to the dog, which are all obviously one-sided conversations, answered only with a wag. Who’s a good boy, who is, you are, you’re so good, you’re so good, ooooh I love you so much, are you a doughnut, yes you are, you’re my doughnut. Etcetera.

I Am Like A Dog

Rex and I have a lot of similarities: we both have big feet, we love walking, we look great in black, and we thrive on a fairly-rigid schedule. Another similarity occurred to me this week: we both can eat the same meals over and over without getting bored.

Sometimes I will come across a quiz that will have the question if you could eat only one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be? I never have trouble answering. For me, I could eat Greek salad with hummus and pita for the rest of my life, and I would never get tired of it. Case in point: I have, at the time of writing, eaten five Greek salads in the past seven days, and I will make more tonight.

Dinner for one.
I have to use up these tomatoes somehow.

I know plenty of people who need a lot of variety in their menus, and who don’t repeat the same meal within a thirty-day stretch. And then there’s me, who has had a green smoothie for breakfast every day for the past decade. Don’t get me wrong, I like many other things! But when it comes to making dinner for just myself, I revert to my favourite dinner, which is quick and simple and has freed up even more time in the day over this past week of Single Girl Living.

My son texted me last week to let me know he’d be popping by to make sure I wasn’t spiralling into insanity, and also to eat dinner. Rarely do I allow input as to what I’m making for dinner, but since I’d been alone for a while, I asked what he’d like to have.

The Colour of Gratitude

Several months ago I wrote a guest post on my friend Elisabeth’s blog (HI ELISABETH) about gratitude. One of the questions was if gratitude was a colour, what colour would it be? I skipped that question. I couldn’t answer it, I couldn’t think in those terms at all – until this past week.

I realized, as I chugged down my coffee just before my yoga practice, that I DID know the answer. For me, it’s the colour of the sky as the sun rises: pink and purple and pale blue. Our house faces west, and at this time of year the sun starts to rise during my yoga practice; as it rises behind me I can see the western sky change and reflect those colours. At a certain point, the mountains on the other side of the lake glow pink, and it never fails to flood me with gratitude.

STOP! BIRCHIE TIME!

Speaking of gratitude and blog friends, Birchie was here visiting me this weekend! I cannot believe she made such a long trip for little old me. (HI BIRCHIE!) We had a great time and got along like nobody’s business, just as I thought we would. We explored the downtown area and shops, we drank margaritas on my deck, we went for a wine tasting, we watched Dirty Dancing and When Harry Met Sally, we talked and talked and talked. Of course, she accompanied Rex and I for our long daily walks.

Weekly Reading

The Life Cycle of the Common Octopus. Canadian debut author alert! I love that this author has had this level of success – a Jenna Book Club pick! And I also really enjoyed that much of this story took place in Edinburgh and a country house in Scotland, because my husband and son are there right this second. So that was delightful. I enjoyed the octopus symbolism. I loved all the friendships and the details of university life in Edinburgh. But the truth is I wanted to like it more than I did. There were so many characters to keep track of, and it was written in third omniscient, which made it hard to connect to or care about any of them. I kept losing the plot, like literally, I kept forgetting the main driver of the plot. When the big reveal happened, I literally had forgotten the point.

Fifty Things That Aren’t My Fault. When I was young I loved reading the comics, or, as my dad called them, the funny pages. My three favourites were For Better or Worse, Garfield, and Cathy. Cathy! Ack! I used to identify with that heart-sweatered heroine a lot, and yes, I realize that sounds like the punchline to a bad joke. In any case, I was excited to read this book of essays by her creator. Now I think “did I hate myself?” Because so many of these essays are written with self-deprecating humour that slides into self-loathing, so many of these essays are about demonizing food and hating our appearance and nagging her daughter. I mean, I guess they could be amusing if you were in the mood for “ha ha, none of my clothes fit, and I just ate a container of ice cream so I hate myself” kind of humour, which I was not, honestly. There are some poignant thoughts about feminism, aging parents, empty nests, and the weird phenomenon of having bigger feet as we age, but most of it was cringe. I actually checked the publication date to see if this was written in the early 2000s, which would explain a lot, but no. It’s from 2019. Did we all hate ourselves in 2019? I don’t think I did.

Standard Deviation. After two mediocre books in a row, I needed a win, and so I went with this gem. I first read it in 2022, and it was one of those “books I read from the library but loved so needed in my collection.” Katherine Heiny is writing goals for me. Her books are kind of plotless, with all sorts of fun characters, and I love them. This is such a delightful and funny read about a couple raising a special-needs child who becomes really, really into origami. There is really nothing else to say about it except that it is a pure joy to read.

During our wine tasting, I discovered my new favourite wine from a very special, VERY local winery, Tantalus, that was just released on Saturday! We were one of the first to taste it. Birchie is leaving me today to continue on with her adventures, and so there will be many more British period dramas and Greek salads in my future! Have a beautiful week, everyone. xo