Category Archives: I love my friends

Yeahhhh, that’d be great.

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I enjoy Facebook for many reasons, but those reasons do not include certain pictures that get posted with political or inflammatory messages on them and pictures that are prefaced with “Share If You…”  Share if you love your mom!  Share if you love your kids!  Share if you have a dog!  Share if you hate cancer!  Whoops, I didn’t share.  Guess I hate my mother.  (I don’t hate my mother.  Hi Mom!). 

However, on occasion a picture will be shared that I think summarizes a certain situation up admirably.

One of the reasons I do like Facebook is that my twenty year high school reunion is coming up and I already pretty much know what my graduating class has been up to, which will cut down on awkward “So…what have you been doing these past two decades?” conversations.  A number of people have said things along the lines of I can’t believe it’s been twenty years! to which I strongly disagree.  It feels more like fifty years since I was in high school.  I have only to look at photos from my high school graduation to feel that it was a lifetime ago: my shiny red off-the-shoulder dress with satin clutch and shoes dyed to match, ringleted hair in a fancy updo, and the piece de resistance – a white rose corsage on my wrist.  My high school boyfriend was wearing a tuxedo with a red bow tie that matched my dress, for the love of god.  I wouldn’t relive those years for anything, and not just because everyone wore belted, high waisted pants with baggy t-shirts tucked into them.

Speaking of exes, I don’t know about you but I never have the urge to get in touch with any of them.  I was at a wedding once where the bride prided herself on maintaining friendships with all her ex-boyfriends, and so there was not one, not two, but SIX ex-boyfriends in attendance.  There was also an open mike at the reception which was a terrible error in judgement.  One of those exes got up and started a long and inebriated ramble about how much he loved hitting that (I’m paraphrasing here) and how jealous he was when she was with a man who was not the groom, but who was another ex-boyfriend, seated at table 12.  It was more awkward even than the wedding I attended where the brother of the groom, who was also the best man, gave a thirty-five minute drunken speech about his brother that started with their childhood dream of becoming Stampede wrestlers and ended with the groom being so drunk that he vomited after offending every woman in a bar with his interpretive dance to the “Thong Song”.   

You know, the last giveaway I did was so fun, I think I might just do another. To enter, leave a comment either telling me a funny wedding story OR what you wore to your high school graduation. Or both! I’ll do a draw on Monday April 22 (EARTH DAY! Maybe the prize will be Earth Day related! Or maybe not…)

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In case you haven’t already heard, I’ve got an exciting new gig over at Yummy Mummy Club!  I’m the new food blogger, and I will be putting the yum in Yummy Mummy with tons of recipes for the whole family to enjoy.  So, check it out, pretty please, and maybe subscribe to my feed over there?  I’m the Meatless Mummy Con Carne, so I’m going to spill all my secrets on how I cook vegetarian meals and adapt them for those meat-loving boys of mine.  I’d be ever so grateful if you took a look – maybe you’ll find some recipes that you can enjoy as well. xoxo

Don’t masquerade with the guy in shades.

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This morning I was driving to the yoga shala, and the radio was playing Sunglasses at Night.  Boy in the Box was one of my favourite albums back in 1985, and so I turned it up and sang along.  I pulled into a parking stall, still singing.  You’ve gone to bed with a guy in shades, oh no.  Then I turned off the car, went into the shala and did my practice.  An hour and a half later I got back into the car, turned it on, and Sunglasses at Night was on the radio.  Again.  At the exact same part of the song as it was when I turned the car off.  You’ve gone to bed with a guy in shades, oh no.  I sat motionless for a moment, feeling like I was in some surreal universe.  Where am I?  Did I actually GO into the shala?  Did I record Sunglasses at Night on a CD and not realize it?  WHAT IS HAPPENING?  It was, I should mention, the same radio station, which means that a hit from 1985 was played twice in less than a two hour period.  Very strange beginning to the day.

Speaking of strange and also going to bed with a guy in shades, I heard George Michael’s I Want Your Sex on the radio the other day.  Feel free to make a comment about the nature of the radio stations I listen to at this time.  Anyway, I clearly remember when I Want Your Sex came out and how terribly shocking it was at the time, back in the day before Eminem and Nate Dogg wanted a bitch with double-D’s to fuck in the back of a Hummer truck, or Rihanna was looking for a guy to go downtown, or even when Nelly wanted someone to fuck him good AND suck him good.  George Michael was scandalous back in 1987, but here’s the thing: I find the expression I want your sex to be very strange indeed.  You want my…sex?  Is this something anyone has ever said in the history of time?  I mean, until Bruno Mars recently intoned that your sex takes me to paradise.  Bruno, do you mean having sex with you takes me to paradise?  Because that would make a lot more sense.

You can tell that it’s Friday, can’t you?  Suddenly things are getting X-rated around here.  Unrelated to my strange thought processes spurred by hits from the mid-to-late eighties, it’s International Women’s Day!  International Women’s Day, and I just typed an entire paragraph about inappropriate song lyrics.  Anyway, it turns out I’m going to be spending International Women’s Day evening with a couple of my favourite girlfriends, who are coming over to taste test some new recipes.  One of them is chocolate pudding made out of cauliflower.  I know what you’re thinking, but it is actually pretty good, and it’s not just me saying that – Jake told me it was not bad, which I consider to be a win, given he was aware of the ingredients.

This is not to say my kids don’t like vegetables; they do, just not cauliflower.  Does anyone really like cauliflower?  I like it roasted, but other than that, it is a pretty lame vegetable.  It doesn’t even have a pretty colour and YES, I realize I am focussing on appearances, but it doesn’t taste great either.  I like vegetables that are beautiful inside and out, if you know what I mean.

I had something lovely to say here about inner and outer beauty, but Patio Lanterns just came on the radio, which may be the worst song ever written, other than Might As Well Go For A Soda, and so now I have lost that train of thought.  Patio Lanterns, for the love of god.  Is there a worse song?  Because right now even Macarthur Park seems awesome.

In any case, have a lovely International Women’s Day, let’s celebrate each other and how far we’ve come.  xoxo

Mildly Annoying Things

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You know when it’s the week leading up to your ladies’ holiday, and you feel all raw and emotional and sad things are unbearably sad and mildly irritating things are making you ragey and you’re reading the Diary of a Wimpy Kid with your children and you didn’t realize how very mean spirited and awful it is, and it’s two days until your hair appointment and your hair looks and feels like orange straw, but with grey roots, and you have impotent rage about the impending time change and your husband thinks time change is “no big deal” and it’s “crazy to get all worked up about it” and Monday is a new moon and Mercury is in retrograde and why don’t we keep snack food in the house, omg, want snacks right now?  That’s the kind of day I’m having.

I realized yesterday that Barkley is going to be five soon, which means he is approaching doggie middle age, and I myself am approaching human middle age.  Or maybe I’ve already reached middle age, although I hope not.  I have an ultimate goal of being one of those sweet yet crazy little old ladies in the nursing home, wearing tons of lipstick which will bleed down into the lines around my mouth, and I will colour my hair orangey-red, and I will wear so much Chanel No. 5 that everyone will know I was in a room twenty minutes after vacating it.  I will wear jaunty little silk neck scarves in bright colours to hide the wrinkles on my chicken neck, and will paint my nails to match.  I will force the cafeteria in my nursing home to offer a vegetarian option and I will always have a bowl of hard candies in my room.  I think that would be fun, but I envision myself to be in my nineties, or late eighties at the very least, and so I do not think I have technically hit middle age yet.

Speaking of being an old lady, I do not want to be one of those mean ones who ram their shopping carts into people at the grocery store or complain about the lineups to the cashiers, and so I will blog about the things that have been irritating me today.  Although, technically, they aren’t irritating me so much anymore since I went to my beautiful friend’s restorative yoga class this afternoon so I’m actually feeling pretty relaxed.  Still.  Here is a list of the mildly annoying things on this sunny, blue-and-white day:

1) It snowed for about ten hours straight on Sunday; there is about a foot of snow on the ground.  This is nothing unusual since March is typically a snowy month.  However, by the level of complaints about the snow, you would think we were all living in the tropics and it suddenly and unexpectedly turned into the Arctic.  Also, the city road crews did an amazing job cleaning up the streets, all things considered, and yet the complaints about the city road crews were endless.

2) Because of the snow, I am dropping the kids off at the front of the school after lunch, rather than the alley.  First, people dropping their kids off for afternoon kindergarten park in the alley like they’ve never seen traffic before; they double park and park on blind corners and leave their cars and it is – in good conditions – a mess.  And so I tried to just avoid the situation by dropping off the kids in front of the school, but then my zen state was ruined by witnessing three people jaywalking with their small children across the busy street.  People: darting out between parked cars into traffic and expecting said traffic to stop for you is not a good lesson for your kindergarten aged child.  THEN one of those small children got stuck in a snowbank on the side of the road.  There’s nothing quite like watching a parent standing in the busy street trying to dislodge her child from a snowbank, meanwhile the younger siblings are darting around ON THE STREET.  I’m having heart palpitations just thinking about it.  It’s the same visceral reaction I get when I see pictures of babies on those Bumbo seats sitting on elevated surfaces.  Get the baby off there before it falls and breaks its little neck!!!

3) My friend Nan wrote about this today, but whenever anyone mentions the Paleo Diet I immediately picture that person with a club and wearing animal skins, hunting down sabre-toothed tigers and the like.  I find diet trends – when they are spoken about with fervour as they often are in the born-again dieter – to be annoying in general.  I mean, awesome if you’re into the Paleo Diet or low-carb or gluten-free or whatnot and it works for you.  What I find annoying are the attempts at conversion.  Hey, I’ve been a vegetarian for years and I have never once said anything derogatory about my carnivorous friends.  Particularly since I live with four of them (I am counting the dog).

4) The boys have another make up karate class today.  The oversharing, overly talkative woman will be there.  That right there should be enough but now she’s talking to ME.  God help us all.  She told me that outdoor sports – like spring soccer – are the only way to REALLY teach children about sports, and while I agree that there is something character building about playing soccer with snow on the ground, in the howling wind and sleet, I am ecstatic that my children are not playing this year.  I can’t wait to see what we will talk about tonight!

Speaking of which, I must go get ready to pick the kids up and head to the dojo – they got new belts this weekend!  White with the yellow stripe!  Excitement all around – and so I will sign off, feeling much better about everything.  What would I do without you to listen to me, dear readers?  I guess I would turn into Mean Old Lady.  xoxo

February and Friday Happiness

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It’s the first day of February!  January is over, for those of you who had a case of the January blues.  And here in Calgary, the weather today is unseasonably warm, the snow is melting, cars are filthy.  This warmth is in sharp contrast to earlier in the week, when it was minus 37 with windchill.  I went to pick the boys up at lunch – the boys who went to school wearing snowpants, parkas, neck warmers, hats, mitts, and boots – and was sadly disappointed with the sight of them sprinting across the icy playground to meet me, hatless and frozen.  Mark, in particular, cheerfully popped out of his school door wearing only his coat, and unzipped at that.  By the time he made it to the car he was blue, and I asked him what he was thinking.  “Well, the sun was shining,” he said, “So I thought it was warm out.”

The blue skies of Calgary in the winter can be deceiving.  There is a very special breed of Calgarian who ignores the information on the temperature gauge and instead dresses based on what the sky looks like.  You can see these purple legged people everywhere, running along the pathway system, wearing shorts despite the minus 20 temperatures.  It appears that I have birthed one of these people.

But hey, it’s Friday, it’s February, AND it’s a PD day, which I love.  I am still in my sweaty yoga clothes, the kids are in their jammies playing Poke Park on the Wii, and I’m trying to figure out what to do with the giant batch of vegan sour “cream” I made yesterday.  I was reminded after I made it why I avoid soy.  Possibly this can be used as an ingredient in some other recipe; it certainly cannot be used on its own because NASTY.  Oh well, either I salvage it or I forfeit $1.49 worth of soft tofu.  The consequences are not that dire.

I went shopping at Costco yesterday, which isn’t generally my favourite thing to do, but thanks to short lineups and the fact that only one person disparaged my choice of almond milk, it wasn’t too bad.  At least I wasn’t buying this:

 
Cocoa Pebbles!  I had no idea those were still in production.  I have never actually eaten these in my life: my mother, wise woman, did not believe in sugar cereals for children.  Once in a while we had Honey Nut Cheerios, but that was the extent of it.  Still, someone must be eating them.  At first the words “Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs” popped into my head, but then I realized that is advertising for a totally different cocoa-flavoured-cartoon-branded-cereal.
 
I’m not criticizing, mind you.  Critiquing people’s grocery choices is so not me.  Hell, for all I know this is a base for a Rice-Krispie-esque Square.  Perhaps a Valentine’s Day treat for that special someone.  Speaking of Valentine’s Day, I came across this on Facebook, and I wish I knew the creator:
 
 

These really leave those “Bee Mine” or “I Choo-Choo-Choose You” cards in the dust.  The dust, I say!  Quit Stalin, I shall say to my husband.  And he will shake his head at me, brow furrowed, probably wondering why his wife is such a nutcase.

For example, this morning I was scrolling through news headlines and saw “Ed Koch Died In The Closet.”  The first – the very first – thought that went through my head was how did he die in a closet?  Did he fall into the closet, and did no one find him?  Poor guy.  Then I read the article.  OH.  Light bulb.  I took that for a sign I needed more coffee. 

Then, to top off my nuttiness, I realized that there is a whole folder of messages in my Facebook account that I didn’t know was there!  A sweet note from a woman at the Yoga Shala, from OCTOBER that I had obviously never replied to since I didn’t know it was there.  Rude!  Also in that folder, this classy note from an unknown stranger:

Hello, I am Oscar. I am 45 year old and i am italian live California. I came across your profile and it would be my pleasure if we can be close friends…

Is this how people meet people these days?  It creeped me out – possibly unfairly.  I mean, maybe Oscar just needs a friend.  A CLOSE friend.  Anyone want to be Oscar’s friend?  Anyone?

Nicole’s Favourite Things: Holiday Edition Part 1

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Yes, you read that title correctly.  There will be a part two. 

Despite its darkness, and despite the fact that a) it was minus 12 this morning, b) my hands are constantly purple, and c) traffic and the streets are mayhem, I love December.  It is one of my favourite months; the approaching holidays and associated festivity just make me smile.

And hence a two-part post of my favourite things!  The first post shall be about gift ideas; the second post shall be random things I love about the holidays.

Related: every single time I think of the term “the holidays”, I think of NYPD Blue.  This may seem counterintuitive but if you – like me – are a fan of NYPD Blue, you may remember the famous Andy Sipowicz line, when he is threatening to put “a pole” up “the ass” of some internal agent who is up to “louse up” Lt. Fancy’s career.  “Let’s not quarrel, eh?  It’s the holidays.”  Word.

As always with my favourite things, I am not sponsored by any of the companies I talk about; I received nothing for free.  I just love these things and maybe you will too!

Nicole’s Favourite Things – Holiday Gift Edition

Wine

Nothing says “I love you” or “It looks like you could use a drink” or “How else do you get through family get-togethers?” like a bottle of wine, am I right?  Wine is a very simple and greatly appreciated gift for anyone, other than maybe teetotallers and recovering alcoholics.  I always love receiving wine, and I give bottles to people I don’t know very well but still want to give gifts to; for example, our school’s long-suffering secretary.  All you really need to know is if the recipient prefers red or white, but even then, it’s hard to go wrong.  I buy my wine in bulk from the Superstore liquor store; a $12 bottle of wine has a lot of gift bang-for-the-buck.

Chocolate

Not everybody loves chocolate, but the vast majority of people do.  ‘Tis the season for chocolatey goodness.  My personal favourite is mint chocolate, and number one on my list is a good old fashioned box of After Eights.  My children have inherited this from me; my husband came home with a box on Saturday, as a festive treat and MAYBE to get lucky, and 3/4 of that box is now gone.  I had ONE.  This is why I’m hiding the dark chocolate peppermint Godivas from the children.

I’m also hoping to get some in my stocking (some chocolate, not something something some, if you know what I mean and I think you do).  I haven’t seen any peppermint Lindors yet this year, but maybe Santa will come through for me.  Santa baby, just slip some mint chocolate under the tree, for me.  Been an awful good girl.

Sweaters

Cozy sweaters are a fabulous gift idea, and are simple for the giver: sizing is generally small/medium/large, so it’s forgiving if you don’t know someone’s exact dimensions.  I love a nice cozy (black) sweater, and Jacob has a wide selection.  Ever since I embraced the skinny jeans trend I have also embraced the big flowy sweater.  They are so snuggly and if you happen to have a muffin top peeking over those skinny jeans, they conceal it nicely.  I think this one is super cute:

However, I am probably not getting one for Christmas since I have several drawers that are stuffed full of black sweaters and my husband seems to think that is plenty in the black sweater department.

Sweaters are a nice gift for the man in your life, as well.   

Ha!  I kid.  If I gave this to my husband, there might be a divorce, or at the very least, no one would be getting a “present from Santa” if you know what I mean.  And I think you do.

Lotions, potions, and beauty products

One of my favourite gifts to receive is a bottle of scented body lotion.  Calgary is a very dry climate, add that to going back and forth from dry indoor heat to the dry frigid outdoors, and the semi-obsessive handwashing that accompanies cold and flu season, and I go through a lot of lotion.  I don’t wear perfume, so I like to have nice girly scented lotions; my favourites are from Bath and Body Works, which frequently has a buy three/ get three sale.  My wintry favourites are Twilight Woods, Moonlight Path, and Secret Wonderland, but there are just so many to choose from. 

My views on “natural” deodorants are generally that such products are aimed at smelly hippies, who remain smelly hippies even when using said products.  I dislike the chemicals in regular antiperspirants but have always been a skeptic about natural deodorants.  However, my friend makes these products and now I’m a believer.  One of our mutual friends – who is very athletic – told me that they really do work, and so I was persuaded to try it.  I sweat a lot during yoga, and the deodorant still held up.  In fact, I asked a friend – who is an ANGEL and a very, very good person – to smell me after a sweaty Sunday morning Primary Series, and she said not only did I not stink like a hippie, but I actually SMELLED GOOD.  That should be endorsement enough, I think.

It makes a great stocking stuffer, although it might seem strange to give someone deodorant as a gift – if you don’t know the recipient well it might seem like you are trying to tell them something – but the jar is so pretty!  And the scents come with fun names like Sweet Jane, Sexy Sadie, and Lucy in the Sky.  There is even a men’s scent called – get this – Johnny’s Cash.  Cute!  If you can talk the man in your life into trying a natural deodorant, which is no small feat if you have a non-hippie husband.

Pajamas

There is something so luxurious about a new pair of jammies.  I eschew anything remotely sexy when it comes to sleepwear.  I’m all about fuzzy flannel bottoms and tops that are emblazoned with Snoopy or Hello Kitty.  Part of this is because I just like cozy pj’s, dammit, and part of this is because I like to have my children choose them for me.  It’s amazing I don’t have Star Wars or Angry Birds on my pajamas. 

Jewelry

Is there any woman alive who doesn’t like a nice piece of jewelry?  I have been wearing silver hoop earrings since I was thirteen years old, this year I told my mother I’m hoping for silver stud earrings and I think she fell over.  She kept repeating “You don’t want HOOP earrings?  Silver hoops?”  I’m all unpredictable now, yo.  Last year I had a Pandora bracelet on my wish list and my over-indulgent husband actually gave me two:



The greatest thing about the charm bracelet is that it’s a gift that keeps on giving!  New charms are always a lovely gift idea, for any occasion.

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Looking for more gift ideas than these Nicole-centric ones?  Look no further: my friend Beck put together a list of non-Oprah-like gift ideas last year (full disclosure: I was one of her writers, and you MAY see a few similarities between last year’s list and this one), and for the Trekkie in your life visit my friend Nan’s site. 

Fun with the Sears Catalogue

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This was the view out my back door last week:

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

 
 

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

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

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

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




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

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

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

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


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

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

 
Or this one, for less fancy occasions:
 

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

November 1st equals Christmas

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There have been a number of Very Sad, Moderately Sad, and Mildly Sad things going on in the Boyhouse and in the world at large this week.  Happily, general Halloween festivities and related sugary and non-sugary joy have cheered me, as well as the fact that as of 11:00 this morning, I have finished my Christmas shopping, aside from a couple of stocking stuffers and teacher gift cards.  I AM FINISHED MY CHRISTMAS SHOPPING!  Hilariously, as I was leaving the mall, a very flamboyant Bay employee was busily setting up a large Christmas tree, and as he was doing so he was flamboyantly berating his fellow employee for not putting the decorations on with pizazz.  PIZAZZ.  I didn’t realize that word was still in general circulation but nonetheless it cheered me nearly as much as finishing my Christmas shopping prior to the Bay’s Christmas tree being set up.

I am famous in my circle for being an early shopper, mostly because I dislike crowds and the opposite of the Christmas spirit that pervades the mall starting in late November.  I dislike the feeling that someone is going to road ragedly run me over in the parking lot, or that I’m going to witness some kind of murder over a parking spot, or that I’m going to be crushed to death in a stampede at Toys R Us.  I met a very dear friend for coffee a few weeks ago, a friend who I’ve known for 23 years, and she asked me very seriously if I had finished my shopping yet.  “Almost!” I said cheerfully, and she smiled at me like the pathological early bird I am.

But why am I talking about Christmas when we’ve just finished Halloween?  I hope your Halloween was lovely.  We had a grand total of seven trick or treaters, all of whom got handfuls and handfuls of fun-sized M&M’s from me.  My own kids were, as usual, overly indulged as they are the pets of the neighbourhood, the only little kids on our street.  I love our neighbours.  Our doorbell rang at 5:30, and I opened it to find not a trick or treater, but an elderly lady who told me that since she and her husband were going out for the evening, she was dropping off candy for the boys.  Sweet!  In addition to that kindness, the boys went up and down our street and came back loaded with treats – tons of candy, full-sized chocolate bars, big buckets of candy popcorn, and funny treats purchased just for them.  So much kindness!  Also – so many Rockets!  I’ve only snuck one package out of their bags, so I’m congratulating myself on my own inner strength.  Like a rock, I am.

A few of my friends in milder climates posted photos of their children in JUST Halloween costumes, and I stared at those pictures with envy and mild disbelief.  It was minus six degrees here, and kind of snowy.  But what kind of Calgary girl would I be if I didn’t know how to fashion a Halloween costume that incorporates winter wear?

Puffy! 

Today, in addition to going to the mall, I went to Wal Mart, which is never particularly fun but is often interesting from a sociological point of view.  I needed a few snack items since I have some girlfriends and their children coming over tomorrow night.  If I stepped back and looked at my cart with someone else’s eyes, I would be judging the hell out of my purchases.  Here’s what I had: Gold Bond hand lotion, three bags of fun-sized Hershey bars, a box of Sleep-Eze pills, a package of Angry Birds bandaids, five “family-sized” bags of assorted potato and tortilla chips, a 2L bottle of Coke Zero, and a double pack of toilet bowl cleaner.  Fortunately I did not see anyone I knew.  I did, however, see a very large man at the pharmacy wearing fleece pajama pants in a Papa Smurf motif, and I swear I have seen that same man, in that same outfit, at that very same pharmacy before.