Category Archives: I love my friends

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Zucapocalypse Edition

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August was a bit of a wild ride for me: I took an epic road trip to a family reunion, my husband and older son were gone for three weeks, the garden went completely rogue, my pretend sister came for a visit, I spent lots of one-on-one time with my younger son, and, just recently, I began watching Season Two of NYPD Blue. Those of you who know me know that NYPD Blue is, strangely enough, one of my favourite television shows ever, but I have only ever watched Season One. I could never bear to watch the departure of John Kelly, which left me at a watching impasse. Have I watched Season One in its entirety multiple times? Yes I have. And now, after approximately two decades of this, I am ready to move on to Season Two which, I should probably note, originally aired in 1994. I AM READY.

I have a lot of non-television Favourites this month, though, and since September is SUNDAY, it is time to tell you about them!

I’ve Been Itching To Tell You About This

A few weeks ago I mentioned the myriad leprosy-like spots on my lower legs due to biting flies that resulted from the family reunion. At one point they were so painful and so itchy – not to mention so unsightly – that I wondered if it would be less painful to saw my own legs off mid-calf, and walk around on the jagged ends of my tibia. It was honestly agonizing.

I had some 0.5% cortisone cream in my medicine chest but it was a) ineffective, and b) expired. Possibly those two things are related. Anyway, I discovered this extra strength hydrocortisone cream; I thought I’d try the store brand as well as the Polysporin, and I am so happy to report that both really do work. If you, too, find yourself in a situation where you are considering amputation just to stop itching for One Damn Second, then give these a try!

Is That A Zucchini In Your Pocket Or…

Well, you knew you weren’t going to get through a summertime Favourite Things without more garden news, didn’t you? It’s insane. Every single day I’m picking a bowlful of tomatoes, as well as some late-season raspberries, and at least two or three zucchinis of various sizes.

Friends. The zucchini situation is out of control. Every single day I’m adding it to stir-fries, I’m making it into chips, I’m roasting it, I’m grating and freezing it, I’m sauteeing it, I’m baking it into every single thing I can think of: muffins, cake, brownies, loaves, and even, during a particularly low moment, cookies.

The cookies were great, by the way. Anyway, despite all that this is my current situation:

Every day I use up a zucchini and then I go into the garden and there are three more to be picked. I am overrun.

I have given away at least fifteen of these monsters and, despite keeping on top of the garden and harvesting them every day, they just keep coming.

But it’s not all about the veggies, although it’s mostly about the veggies. The flowers are beautiful too.

Feeling Fried

Up until this past week, when the temperatures have cooled off a bit, it has been too hot to cook, even though I have a well-insulated oven and an air-conditioned house. Hot meals have just not appealed. I have not really cooked dinner in August, other than this past week, nor have I for the entire month of July. Instead, we have been subsisting almost entirely on salads, bowls, and wraps, with the occasional barbeque thrown in there. Now, of course I have turned on the stove to cook the quinoa, pasta, noodles, or rice for those bowls and salads, but I was doing that early in the day and just assembling dinner at the regular mealtime.

I have been relying a lot on my air fryer; I always do when making chicken for the guys, but I have been using it a lot this summer for plant-based proteins like chickpeas. I have a double basket air fryer, so I can dedicate each basket to meat and non-meat items.

I usually roast chickpeas in the oven, but now that I’ve done them in the air fryer, I’m not going back. The result is so nice and crunchy!

I’ve also done some zucchini in the air fryer, which was really tasty.

I have an idea! my son suggested this week. How about next year, you plant LESS zucchini?

Tea (Towel) For Two

Last fall my dear friend Suzanne (HI SUZANNE) sent me a housewarming gift, and I think of her every time I use these precious tea towels. I wish I could reciprocate by sending her zucchini.

I mean. What could be more appropriate?

It’s true. I do.

The Hardest Part Is…

It’s been said that the hardest part of any workout is just getting started, but I would say that no, that’s not true. The hardest part is putting on a sports bra.

I go through what the Edies would call four Costume Changes a day, which makes for a lot of laundry, certainly, but with my current schedule there is no getting around this. In the morning I change out of my pajamas – always a matching pair! – into a yoga tank and leggings. I take my yoga practice, which is followed by what I think of as My Vigourous Exercise, a combination of the elliptical machine, the Peloton, and strength training. After that, I am very, very sweaty.

Whatever you are picturing right now, in terms of sweatiness? Multiply that by 100. When I say “sweaty,” I mean that there is a literal pool of sweat under the Peloton and my clothes are actually soaked, such that they make a wet thud when I drop them into my laundry basket. You could wring out my clothes and get another whole puddle; if I weighed myself I would probably drop several pounds of water weight after each workout. It’s a lot.

I don’t shower until around 9 or 10 in the morning, after I have walked Rex and worked in the garden, for obvious reasons. This means that I require another Costume Change, as I cannot possibly function in completely sweat-soaked clothes. I usually put on a tee and leggings, and since I don’t want to get my nice bras all sweaty, I put on a sports bra.

Why are sports bras the most difficult item to don in the world? I don’t know, but they are even on a day when my skin is not damp and sticky from a workout. How, friends, are we putting on our sports bras? Do we shimmy them on from the bottom up, do we pull them on and get our shoulders stuck from the top? Do we find ourselves partially strangled, with one breast supported and one arm tangled into the straps? What do we do? There is no easy way. I was so tired of this gymnastic routine that I searched and found a bra at lululemon that fastens in the front, and it has been a game changer.

I don’t know how I got this far in life without having one of these. I mean, you put it on like a jacket and then zip it up. It’s so simple! It also has great support, not that I really need it for dog walking, but it’s nice not to be bouncing around.

Outfit of the Month

Although I was distressed to get rid of a towering pile of ill-fitting jeans, including a pair from 2008, I am in love with these new crop jeans. The brand is Silver and the cut is Suki, and they are so comfortable and stretchy, without becoming baggy and stretched-out by midday, which is really saying something. I love them so much I bought two pair in different washes. To assuage my low-level guilty feelings about buying all new pants and contributing to the environmental disaster that is the textile industry, I wore this cute, light, 3/4 sleeve cardigan that I bought at Jacob circa 2014. The top is from Gap from a few years ago, the sandals are Skechers, and the bag is one I bought at lululemon back when I first started teaching yoga. It’s a workhorse!

I wore this outfit to go shopping with my older son, who’s moving back to university on Saturday!

See the holes in the garden behind me? That’s from deer. They haven’t been eating our (deer resistant) plants, happily, but they have been sauntering through the yard in the middle of the night, when our resident deer-chaser, Rexie, is asleep. I’ve also been awakened several times by howling coyotes outside our window, and the other evening my son said hey Mom, don’t let Rex out for a while. It turns out there was a mother bear with two cubs wandering through our property. It’s like I’m living in Lorne Greene’s New Wilderness, which, along with The Muppets, was my favourite television show when I was a kid. It’s been a journey from The Muppets and Lorne Greene to NYPD Blue, just as it’s been a journey from my 2008 jeans to today. Life, it’s a wild ride, isn’t it? I hope you’ve had a just-wild-enough August, and if there’s anything you’ve loved this month, I would love to hear it. xo

Fun Fun Fun

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I spent a lot of time by myself over the past couple of weeks, and it turns out that when this happens I end up pondering concepts that should be, in theory, fairly simple, but by the time I’m finished mulling things over, words themselves have lost all meaning.

I love delving into semantics as much as the next person, and so when I listened to a recent Ologies episode on, of all things, Fun, I ended up thinking about it for days. Days. I throw that word around like nobody’s business; I am always having fun, or saying this is so fun, or contemplating wouldn’t it be fun to have Greek salad for dinner? I have come to the conclusion that most of the time, when I think something is fun, what I am really saying is that it is enjoyable or that it brings me happiness or contentment, and that is not really the same thing as fun. If someone asked What do you do for fun? I might say something about gardening, or walking with Rex, or reading, or riding my Peloton. But are those things actually fun? I love them all, I feel joyful and happy while doing them, but I’m not sure if they can be classified as purely fun. When I think of fun, I think of something that completely takes me out of myself, mentally and physically.

I’ve analyzed the word fun so much that I am now one step away from giving you the Webster’s Dictionary definition.

I am a bit of a cozy homebody type, and yet I also love to travel, and after much thought I have come to the conclusion that my most fun experiences have occurred when I am travelling. I think of Disney World with the guys, I think of zip-lining in Mexico, I think of boogie boarding in Maui.

And if I think about it even more, I think that so many of my most fun experiences can be traced back to my friend Jen (HI JEN). She and I have karaoked Hold On both in public and not, we learned to zumba poolside in Playa Mujeres, we laughed until we cried about lizards having sex and public finger blasting, we became hysterical while listening to a cover band singing Smooth Operator, and together we became overly involved in puzzles and the game Mexican Train over New Year’s. We can sit together in companionable silence while we read books, we can giggle over margaritas and wine, we can walk and swim and do things together and I never, ever get tired of her. She’s the sister I never had, I love her kids and husband dearly, and she was here visiting me for an extended girls’ weekend!

WE HAD FUN.

We read books and went to my favourite bookstore, we had margaritas on the deck in the middle of the day, we went to a wine tasting and then came home and drank more wine as we watched a movie, we walked and did puzzles like we were in some kind of professional puzzling competition. I was sad to see her go, but also, in a twist of the philosophical saying, happy that this extended weekend existed at all.

Softening the blow of Jen’s leaving was the arrival of my husband and son, home from their very long road trip in the camper up north. They drove up the Dempster Highway to Tutoyatuk, they swam in the Arctic Ocean and hiked along glaciers, clocking almost 9000 kilometres in total. It was definitely the trip of a lifetime. They had fun!

Weekly Reading

I forgot to mention that I had a DNF this month; it was the book Rouge, which I tried twice to read, and just could not. I guess I’m not a magical kind of gal. But the books I did read this week I really enjoyed.

Funny Story. When Daphne’s fiance calls off their wedding to get together with Miles’ girlfriend, Daphne finds herself in need of a place to live. She moves in with Miles, temporarily, and together they come up with a plan to “get back” at the newly engaged couple – they pretend THEY are a couple. OMG you won’t believe what happens next. Okay, yes you will, you will absolutely be able to predict everything that happens, but we don’t read Emily Henry books to be shocked and surprised, do we? We read them because they are wonderfully cute romances with amazing dialogue and fun banter. We read them because they have heart, and lovely characters, and are just all-round fun. Two fun facts: just like I thought Nichelle was a name I had made up when I was 13 only to discover that no, it is a name, I also thought I was the only person in the world who identified with Charlotte Lucas in Pride and Prejudice. Daphne also identifies with Charlotte Lucas!!! Second fun fact: Emily Henry has just had her 34th birthday, and I am in awe of her incredible success in the romance writing world. The tl;dr on this is that I really, really enjoyed it. It’s a satisfying book and I always love a “chosen family” side plot.

Early Morning Riser. I first read this in 2021, and my impression at that time was that it was extremely delightful, and also, that I could not at all describe it. On my second read, I think it is even more delightful than I remembered, and also, there is no way to really describe the delightfulness that is this book. There is no discernable plot. The romantic lead is – and there is no other way to describe him, really – a dirtbag who has slept with basically every woman in his small Michigan town, and most of the women in the surrounding area. And yet! Yet this book is so warm and joyful and bighearted, and it is hysterically, laugh-out-loud funny, if you are a person who shares my sense of humour and also love of Jane Austen-style wit. It’s a series of vignettes and character sketches of people in this small town, and it’s a testament to chosen family – theme of the week? – and all kinds of love. There is a scene where the protagonist is preparing her children for bath time, and it was so wonderful that I read it at least six times. I love this author and her writing style is GOALS for me. If you are a person who requires a firm plot and definable theme, and if you do NOT like an understated style of humour, then this won’t work for you, probably. But it is a near-perfect read for me.

I hope you all are having a beautiful August! The garden is going rogue with produce, my second planting of greens has sprouted, life is good. Have a FUN week, friends! xo

Joy (pump it up pump it up now) Pain (keep it going keep it going now)

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Recently my husband and I were at a birthday party for a friend; a video of that party was created and shared with me. I watched it, my eyes widening, and then I watched it again. I called my husband over to watch it with me. Do I really look like that? I asked, astonished. He nodded. All the time? He raised his eyebrows and said When you’re at a party, yes. All the time.

Friends, I looked like a maniac, an absolute maniac. My mouth is wide open in almost every shot, head thrown back, laughing. When I’m not laughing – and my son, in the kindest way, I’m sure, overheard me and my girlfriends on our deck one afternoon and said we were cackling like a coven of witches – I’m smiling maniacally with all my teeth showing, hugging people and throwing my arms around people and gesturing to people to get in the picture, and just generally touching people a lot.

What can I say, I love being around my girlfriends and also, apparently, touching people.

Recently Lisa (HI LISA) wrote about joy, and that post and the associated comments really made me realize two things: either I have a really low bar for what constitutes a joyful feeling, or I am an incredibly easily-delighted person. I think it’s probably a bit of both.

I think I was about ten when my grandma gave me Emily Climbs and Emily’s Quest for Christmas, and let me tell you, I identified so strongly with Emily Starr in a way I never had identified with any fictional character before. Of course, the other books I was reading at age ten were the Sweet Valley High series, and although I thought they were aspirational, in my heart of hearts I knew I wasn’t going to turn sixteen and suddenly become an All-American, blonde, blue-eyed, size six twin who drove a red Spider Fiat to school and dated the star of the basketball team, although I did want to be the editor of the school’s paper, had the school had a paper.

But Emily! I was so very Emily, and one of my most Emily traits was the flash. I absolutely experienced the flash, a feeling of awe and joy and overwhelm in the face of natural beauty; as a matter of fact, I experience it every single day. You might think that’s an easy thing, given that this is my view every morning:

But the truth is I have felt it my whole life, yes, even in Calgary, even on the greyest, beigest, windiest days. There was always something outdoors that was beautiful, and if that makes me sound like I’m constantly dancing around like Julie Andrews singing that the hills, streets, sidewalks, and backyards are alive with the sound of music, well, I’m not NOT like that.

I get a lot of joy out of being outside; let’s leave it at that.

But there are so many other things that bring me deep joy on a daily basis: talking to my boys and wondering how they became so insanely hilarious and wonderful, hanging out with my husband, and particularly travelling with him as he is an excellent travel companion, not to mention planner, Rex, who is the canine personification of pure unadulterated joy every minute of the day, unless we get caught in the rain and end up walking 3 kilometres in a downpour. Delicious food brings me great joy, as does a perfect cocktail or lovely glass of wine, reading or writing a moving sentence or paragraph, being in my garden, eating things from my garden, and that feeling when everything is perfectly hygge and cozy, everything tidy and in its place.

Music brings me joy, all kinds of music, whether I’m playing it myself or listening to it. I’ve constantly got a song in my head – hence my dancing around Julie Andrews-style all the live-long day – and the other day I had a sudden craving to listen to an album. Other than Aretha Franklin’s 30 Greatest Hits, I never listen to albums, only curated playlists, but here I was, suddenly and inexplicably desperate to listen to the Barenaked Ladies’ debut, Gordon.

That album, so unique and original, came out when I was in high school and listening to it I was instantly transported back to 1992, singing Hello City with my friend Tracy when we were in chemistry together (HI TRACY). It turns out I remember every single lyric to every single song, even the lesser-known, more obscure ones like Box Set. Disc one! It’s where we’ve begun. It’s all our greatest hits. And if you are a fan then you know that you already got ’em.

I was feeling weird and unsettled the week before and for days after I wrote about 1988, mostly due to unpleasant memories, but also because I did something I have never done before and never will do again: I googled two ex-boyfriends. I discovered that the one I was dating during the Gordon time frame is now an executive at Spotify, and the one from 1988 is now a film critic and acclaimed playwright. Who knew? Certainly not me, and before you get the wrong idea, I will never google another ex, because a) I mostly can’t remember their last names, and b) even if I could, I would probably discover something upsetting but maybe not surprising, like incarceration or death.

I mean, maybe not, maybe all these guys are just living regular lives, but I am not about to discover them. In any case, I was telling a friend – whose name, coincidentally, is Joy (HI JOY) – at the birthday party about my general feeling of unsettledness; she looked deep into my eyes and asked in the kindest, most compassionate way if it was because I was wondering about the path not taken. NO NO, OH MY GOD, NO. It wasn’t that at ALL, I have absolutely no regrets about the dynamiting of Walnut Grove, so to speak, I love my life and wouldn’t wish it any different. I didn’t realize what that feeling was until I listened to Gordon. I may not have liked you, oh but memory is a strange thing oh, Enid? Enid I remember you.

Weekly Reading

I have a WILD variety of books this week, and I loved them all.

Bird By Bird. “You’ve never read Bird By Bird?” Laura asked, shocked, when I told her what I was reading. (HI LAURA). I know! Better late than never to read this absolute gem of a book, full of wisdom and compassion for all those trying to live a creative life. A must for all writers!

Sandwich. First of all, I have loved Catherine Newman since her Bringing Up Ben and Birdy days, and a lot of this book evoked nostalgia. She is such an incredible writer. This book really captures the feeling of a menopausal woman, sandwiched between her aging parents and young adult children; it takes place during a week they are all vacationing together at Cape Cod. It involves family secrets and lies, the wild roller coaster of emotions and feelings from being together, and anxiety and joy that comes from family. So much of this was very resonant with me. I did not expect a main story line about reproductive health and rights, but I was very here for it. A few times, reading this, I felt like my heart was going to explode. It’s very moving and very beautiful. 

Sociopath. This book was absolutely fascinating. I learned so much through this memoir of a woman who is a diagnosed sociopath. She details her struggles throughout life, the destructive ways she leaned into her sociopathy, and how doing things that society condemns – theft, stalking, breaking into houses, and even violence – allowed her to feel SOMETHING. It’s really an eye-opening and interesting read.

My husband was the main organizer of his 40th high school reunion, and the event was this past Saturday. Months ago, we were having dinner with another couple, and with regards to the reunion, the woman said to me “You’re going too, right?” When I said no, she reacted with a level of shock that was disturbing to me. She recommended, in the most serious way, that I just…go to the same location and, in her words, keep an eye on things. After I got over my surprise, I couldn’t help but feel sad for such a display of low self-worth and lack of trust in her own relationship. In any case, it sounds like a good time was had by all on Saturday, and I WAS a bit jealous, not due to any kind of romantic rekindling, but because my own 30th reunion didn’t happen due to a lack of interest. I hope by the time my 40th rolls around all that will have changed.

Happy last week of June, everyone! xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Four Province Edition

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I know we all say this every single month, and probably will say this every single month until we shuffle off this mortal coil, but can you even believe that it’s the end of May? Technically, I guess, we refer to the specific month that we are at the end of, not specifically “May.” However, it does feel like every time a month ends no one can believe that the month is ending already, because life is but a time-lapse video of pages flying off a page-a-day calendar, so rapidly that we cannot even, we cannot EVEN. And so it is that Saturday is June, and it’s time once again to talk about my Favourite Things.

This month feels especially fleeting, as I was travelling for almost half of it, and the other half seems to have been spent frantically catching up on all the things I missed while travelling. When I think back to our trip, it feels a bit blurry and fuzzy, like I just woke up and am half-remembering a lovely dream I had. It just seems like it was so long ago already!

The last day of our trip, we drove from Montreal to the Ottawa airport, where we flew to Calgary and then on to Kelowna so, as my husband pointed out to a Very Tired Me, we were in four provinces over a 14 hour period. It’s just like one of those old Bust Loose! European tours in which the clientele visit 9 countries in 8 days, but without the alcohol poisoning and casual sex.

Side note: I never did one of those tours as a youth (or as an older person, I hasten to say) but stories, I have heard them. Hey, if you did, I would love to hear about it! I love stories about my friends and their wayward youths, they are my favourite! And here are the rest of my Favourites, for the month of May.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Four Province Edition

I’m Glad We Were Here Together In Our Nation’s Capital

I used that line from Forrest Gump – god I love that movie, no apologies – many times when we were in Ottawa, both in my head and outwardly, the latter only a few times, as my husband is pretty tired of hearing me talk about the Lieutenant Dan character arc, which inevitably follows any quotation. (I was supposed to be Lieutenant Dan. You are STILL Lieutenant Dan). We are here, in our nation’s capital! I texted the boys, who probably just rolled their eyes as they pressed “like” on my message. Anyway, when it came to Ontario I loved seeing Allison (HI ALLISON) and the Parliament buildings, but my Favourite Thing about the province was – wait for it – the Niagara wine region!

Every once in a while, I will read an article about the dangers of alcohol consumption in general and the negative effects of it on a woman in perimenopause in particular; I will wake up in the middle of the night after a couple of glasses of red wine drenched with sweat, and I will briefly consider a wine-free life. But you know what? I love wine. In fact, I Fucking Love Wine. All week I look forward to Friday when I crack open a bottle and pour myself a nice glass as an end-of-week treat. I especially look forward to it when I know I have a bottle of my Very Favourite Wine, Vineland Estates Cabernet Franc.

I have already discussed how special that winery is to me, but I don’t think I can reiterate enough how delicious this wine is. It is not available for purchase in BC, for long, boring, stupid reasons, and so we had some cases shipped home, including some white and rose. I am not typically a rose gal, but Vineland Estates makes an absolutely wonderful one, so maybe I’ll get myself a Rose All Day tee to wear while sipping.

If Only You Believed In Miracles, We’d Get By

I grew up in the Lutheran church, and let me tell you a little something about Lutherans: they are a very practical, prosaic people. They are not interested in wasting resources on external ornamentation or frivolity, to say the least. There’s going to be a cross, and a couple of stained-glass windows, and maybe a painting depicting the Crucifixion and a banner sewed by one of the ladies in the congregation, but that’s pretty much it.

The first time I remember being in a non-Lutheran church was when I was sixteen, and that non-Lutheran church was St Paul’s Basilica in the Vatican. Go big or go home, I always say. I remember being absolutely overwhelmed with the incredible, excessive beauty of the Basilica, and so began my lifelong interest in visiting historical cathedrals. You might think that I should have saved something as momentous as St Paul’s for later in life, but sometimes life is mysterious and the road is long and winding.

On our trip to Quebec we drove the extra 30 km outside of Quebec City to visit the Basilica of Sainte-Anne-de-Beaupre. It’s one of the biggest churches in Canada and has the reputation for miracles, attracting pilgrims from all over. The front of the church has a display of crutches, canes, and walkers that were left by pilgrims who did not need them anymore.

Now, I am not Catholic, nor have I even attended a church service in many years, but I do believe in a higher power and I do believe that sometimes, things happen that cannot be explained by our practical world, and maybe those things are miracles. I mean, who knows? The power of the mind is very strong, and while I wouldn’t rely on miracles, I wouldn’t reject them either. Of course, I am a person who, in the vein of Mary Oliver, thinks that seeds sprouting, flowers blooming, and the sun rising and moon falling are pure, everyday miracles, so I might not be that discerning. But just because science or logic can explain something doesn’t mean it’s not miraculous, and, in an opposite vein, sometimes miraculous things happen that cannot be explained by science or logic. In any case, no one builds a church like the Catholics, and I felt myself in awe of the beauty.

Across from the church is a hill, and there are life-sized Stations of the Cross built into it beside a memorial chapel. Walking through the Way of the Cross, I thought of my grandma Fern and missed her terribly.

Eat, Drink, and Be Merry

One of my very Favourite things to do when I visit my parents – other than eating, drinking, and spending time with them – is going to Bentley, Alberta, which is home of Merry’s Mercantile. My friend Merry (HI MERRY) has a wonderful little boutique that is filled with absolute happiness, and it changes all the time: she sells clothing and home goods, gifts and cards, retro treats and vintage goods. Salvadore the gnome came from there, and my mom and I drive out whenever I’m visiting. This time we took my aunt as well, and had a great time. Something always speaks to me in her little shop, and this time it was this mug:

I mean. Was it made just for me? It feels like it. I also bought a matching one for my aunt, which says “Because I’m a fucking lady, that’s why.” What can I say, it felt right.

And just because we are talking about Merry’s Mercantile, I thought you would all be interested to see Salvadore in his new environment. Finally, he’s finished with the Menopause Manifesto!

Inch By Inch, Row By Row

On my birthday, we planted the seeds for the garden, and everything is up and growing, with the exception of the oregano, which I have since replanted. My very first harvest was last week, and it was cilantro! Longtime readers will remember my indoor cilantro garden, which I no longer have – and I have missed fresh cilantro so very much. It feels like an absolute gift to just go out and cut some at a whim.

We also have so much kale, spinach, and romaine lettuce already. We had our first kale harvest on Sunday, and another of kale and spinach on Tuesday, and you can barely tell that I cut it, we have so much in the garden. It’s all salads, all the time around here now.

Outfit of the Month

I am so proud of myself for travelling for two weeks with only a carryon. As a former overpacker, I feel like I have made a significant shift in my life, and as god is my witness, I will never check a bag again, if I can help it.

Let me tell you about this coat: it is a workhorse. I bought it from Lululemon when my children were in preschool, and I think it still looks pretty great. It’s waterproof and lined, so it was perfect for this trip which was relatively cool and sometimes rainy.

I mostly wore it with jeans, a black top, and Skechers, which were perfect for walking around. Since we were outside touring around most of the time, almost every single photo of me is in this coat. I hope it lasts me forever.

May was such a fun month, but I am looking forward to a quieter existence for June. We will be sticking close to home, which, although he is a good traveller, I think Rex will be happy about.

What have you loved this month? Tell me everything. xo

More Weeding, More Reading

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This is probably a strange thing to admit, because I know that generally it is a task that is dreaded and disliked, but I actually kind of love weeding. Like the laundry, or cleaning the kitchen, or really cleaning anything at all in my house (I’m currently looking with a side-eye at my fuzzy companion, due to whom we never have clean floors for more than thirty minutes), the weeding is never done. It reminds me so much of Newman’s meltdown about the mail, how it never stops. That’s how it is with weeding, the weeds just keep coming and coming.

But maybe that’s what I like about it, that there is always something that needs tending. I also find weeding to be very meditative; typically when I’m performing dull, repetitive tasks I listen to podcasts or music, but when I weed I leave my phone and earbuds in the house, and it’s just me and the weeds, with the sounds of the outdoors around me. There’s something so calming about feeling the warmth of the sun with my hands in the dirt. It’s absolutely a meditation.

This week I found myself meditating a lot on friendship, and the role of social media in our lives. I have been reminding myself of the platitude that friends come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. What is interesting to me is how social media has changed that in some ways; people who we lose touch with decades ago can come back into our life via the miracle that is social media.

I think of one of the closing lines of Desiderata nearly every day: With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. This sentiment could easily be manipulated to be applied to social media: With all its sham, fakery, and advertisements, it is still a beautiful thing. So many incredible people have come back into my life and I have met so many people on social media channels who make my life richer and more interesting.

In a way, it’s changed the for a lifetime part of the platitude, because although I might not be intimate with my childhood best friends or my group from junior high, I still feel like I know them. I know their children’s names and what they look like, and sometimes I even know what they are eating for dinner or where they are travelling to. I love that. It’s an incredible way to stay connected, and I don’t think that I would be connected with these people were it not for social media.

I fully understand the pitfalls of social media, of course, but as a woman my age I’m pretty much over comparing my life to anyone else’s. I like to celebrate when others are celebrating, I want to commiserate when others are sad or in mourning, and I really do like to see what other people are eating for dinner. I know that mindless scrolling can be not only a waste of time, but also detrimental to my attention span and general wellness, and so I apply boundaries to my Instagramming and Facebooking and I stick to them.

There is one part of social media that I fall prey to, though, and that is the advertising. Wow, am I a soft touch. It’s kind of embarrassing to admit, but I have purchased – and, I hasten to add, absolutely loved – at least three products that were marketed to me on Instagram, and although I don’t buy a lot of things, I definitely look at the advertising reels and think about them intensely. You should see my algorithm, you guys. It’s almost entirely makeup and skincare for “the older woman,” plus shapewear. The other evening I was glancing at my feed and I accidentally mused out loud Miracle Balm, hmm, do I need Miracle Balm? The responses from the men in the house was immediate and emphatic.

My younger son: NO.

My husband: What? How many products do you already use every day? Forty? You don’t need forty-one.

My older son: You can’t stop the forward march of time, Mom.

Well, they are probably right, other than my husband’s conjecture about the number of products I use. I don’t know exactly how many I use, it depends on the day, but surely it’s less than forty. Surely. In any case, it’s true, you can’t stop the forward march of time. No matter how miraculous the balm.

Weekly Reading

There are two things I wanted to tell you before I get to the two very excellent and entertaining books that I read this week. The first is that I guest-posted over on Engie’s blog (HI ENGIE), and I talked about twenty favourite books that I have each read at least three times. Technically there are twenty-two, since I slipped Heidi and Deenie in at the end. Anyway, I wrote it a few weeks ago but since I was travelling, I wasn’t able to link up. Here it is, I hope you enjoy!

The second thing I wanted to say – and this is notable since I rarely do it – is that I DNFed a book this week. I have been trying to do this more, as I have a tendency to push through with books I am not enjoying, which is a waste of time, really. A woman in my writing group had strongly recommended a Japanese series, the first of which was Before The Coffee Gets Cold. She was so enthusiastic that I just put it on hold without looking up what it was about. Imagine my disappointment when I discovered it was all about time-travel; longtime readers will remember how I loathe time-travel as a literary device. I started it all the same, slogging through the first forty pages, and then I remembered my resolution to DNF if I am not enjoying a book. Freedom!

After I Do. Friends, I could not put down this book about a young married couple who fall out of love. It was one of the most intensely readable books I have had in a while! It was all about the little quirks that we have that are endearing, but maybe on a day to day basis become really irritating to our partners, and vice versa. It’s also about how small resentments (think: arguments about where the car is parked) can become fury-inducing, and how a lack of communication can tank a relationship. I mean, who among us hasn’t felt Hulk-level rage at something ridiculous like a toilet paper roll not being put in the recycle but instead left on the bathroom counter for all eternity? Anyway, this couple takes a year separation to see if their marriage can be saved, it’s a circuitous route that struck me as odd, but such a satisfying and engrossing read. I was so invested in these characters. Interesting note: this was written in 2014, and the author has gone on to have massive success. I have read a few of her very popular books and I didn’t enjoy them half as much as I did this. 

Happiness Falls. I don’t know what I thought this book would be like, but it wasn’t this – and I LOVED IT. What an incredibly written book with such a unique and original voice. A father goes missing and the only one who has clues to this is his autistic, non-speaking fourteen year old son. The rest of the family, along with the police, try to piece together what happened and if the son is at all to blame. As a side note, the father has been researching the notion of happiness, trying to quantify it in terms of baselines – if you come in from a cold, rainy day and warm up, you’re happier than if you never left the house, for example. It’s given me lots of fascinating things to think about. If you read this, be sure to read the author’s note on how she came up with the idea, because it’s very interesting.

Don’t worry, I won’t be exclusively writing about weeding for the next five months. OR WILL I? Will weeding become my new grocery shopping, in terms of blog topics? Stay tuned! xo

Mind Over Matter

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I was so nostalgic the other day when I saw a woman with two young children in the produce section. It brought me back to grocery shopping with the boys, something I genuinely enjoyed: counting out the apples, picking out strawberries, pretending to tickle them with cucumbers. I smiled at the warm memories and then was jolted out of them when I saw them again at an adjacent checkout line to mine, where one of the children was hysterically screaming and the other one kept saying “Mommy, I need to go potty. Mommy, potty. MOMMY.”

The little girl kept screaming and screaming, her shrieks and sobs echoing through the store. The old lady in front of me in line turned to me. “That kid needs attention! She’s been bawling for this whole time I’ve been here!” she said sharply, and I was actually relieved because in the millisecond before she spoke I thought she was going to say that the child needed a spanking or something, and then it would have been a whole thing. As it was, I didn’t love her tone.

I looked up to see the mother, carrying her still-screaming daughter and pushing the cart full of groceries and her son towards the really gross public washroom. I looked at the old lady and said mildly, “Wow, that mom has her hands full. I feel for her. It’s hard to be a mom.” And then I smiled, and did not break eye contact, in an only slightly-psychotic way. The woman gave a little huff and turned back to her groceries.

In my semi-recent Ask Me Anything, Suzanne (HI SUZANNE) asked Besides people who don’t put their shopping carts away, what are some of your top pet peeves? Suzanne knows me well and rogue grocery carts are definitely number one on my pet peeve list, followed by the statement of opinions as facts, particularly, or maybe even exclusively, negative opinions. Also on my list is when people judgmentally cannot empathize with the plights of other people, tied with the inability to feel joy in other’s happiness or success.

I think this last point has to do with the patriarchy in which we all reside, which dictates that there is only so much room at the table, that a limited amount of women are allowed success in the same area, that life is a zero-sum game in which to succeed, someone else must fail. And honestly, it makes me sick. It makes me even more sick to think that I have, on occasion, bought into this idea in the past, and I have had to work to overcome it.

As an example, back when I worked for YMC as a vegan food blogger, there was an independent Canadian vegan food blogger who, at the time, was achieving great success. She was publishing cookbooks to many accolades, and I will tell you now that I did not feel a glow of happiness for her success. I could appreciate the beauty of her cookbooks, I talked about them positively to my friends, yes, but secretly I harboured many negative thoughts about them. They’re too complicated! I would think. There’s too many obscure ingredients! I would also think, ominously, She’s not THAT great.

Recently I read On Our Best Behaviour, and the section about Envy really recalled those feelings. The author suggested that rather than make envy a poison that eats away at us, women could use the feeling to light the way to the things we want in the world. Instead of tearing each other down – even mentally, maybe especially mentally – we could use envy to our benefit. I’ll have what she’s having.

And the truth is, if I had really wanted that kind of success, I would have had to sacrifice a lot of time, money, and energy to get it, and those sacrifices I was not at the time willing or able to make. That woman worked really hard to get where she was and perhaps if I had channeled all my energies the way she did, I could have had a chance at a similar level of success. But I didn’t, and that’s perfectly fine.

San (HI SAN) asked what is your best personal quality, and right now I think that it is my ability to see myself clearly and make changes when necessary. I think we all are much more malleable than we think we are, and if we want to make changes in ourselves and in our lives we can. It is a fallacy to say this is just who I am, this is just my personality, because although we are all born with personalities and tendencies, and our life experiences exacerbate those personalities and tendencies, for better or worse, we CAN change things we don’t like.

I think it’s pretty common to have a who does she think she is, she’s not that great feeling towards other women. After all women – particularly, I think, of my generation and older – have been indoctrinated since infancy to instinctively dislike and discount other women who are prettier, younger, thinner, or more successful, in whatever metric “success” is measured, and honestly, it’s really distasteful to me, especially when it’s inside me. I don’t blame myself or anyone else; we were raised in a society that made us believe that life is a finite pie and we all have to compete for our slice. I have worked very hard to overcome that conditioning; now when I see a woman who is thriving I automatically think Wow! She’s incredible! rather than She’s not THAT great, and I’m proud of that, to answer Engie’s (HI ENGIE) question what is something you’re proud of?

Elisabeth (HI ELISABETH) asked what was the best and the hardest decision you made in 2023 and this question stumped me for a while. I experienced a great deal of change in 2023, but all of the decisions relating to those changes came much earlier. I realized the answer the other day, when I thought about how I dealt with the changes. There was a months-long period last year when I genuinely thought I might have a nervous breakdown. It wasn’t until I made a mental shift wherein I said to myself that this is my life, I choose how to respond to my life, and, to quote Desiderata, whether or not it is unclear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. That decision, to choose how to respond to everything out of my control, was the best decision I could have made. It was also the hardest, at least the hardest to achieve.

Weekly Reading

Roman Stories. Right off the bat, I have to tell you that I am absolutely fascinated by and in total admiration of people who not only speak more than one language, but write in it too. Jhumpa Lahiri, an author I deeply admire, moved to Rome, learned Italian, wrote these stories in Italian, and then translated them to English. I mean, what. How. Anyway, I love short stories and these are so good, showcasing the ordinary but extraordinary lives of people living in Rome, a variety of people from a variety of backgrounds. She mainly focuses on the immigrant experience in Rome, and the daily hardships, big and small, that people face in everyday life.

My Brilliant Friend. Another Italian book, this one courtesy of Engie and the Cool Blogger’s Book Club. I voted for this book as a friend had read it and loved it; I cannot say I loved it, but I did have a pretty interesting experience with it. At first, I found it hard to read; I think that if you read this book at face value, it is a terrible slog, at least in my view. But if you read this as a symbol of post-World War II Italy, it becomes a very interesting tale of a nation’s growth. Each character I thought of as a symbol of a part of Italy: Elena, education and scholastic achievement, Lila, the fashion industry. The neighbourhood in Naples where the book takes place is dominated by the grocer’s family, symbolic of Italian food exports, and by the owners of the bar/ pastry shop, who symbolize, in my view, the mafia. There is also the gentle Antonio – the automobile industry – and the Sarratore family – arts and poetry. I found that reading this book in this way, with an eye to symbolism, was interesting, whereas when I did not read this way, it was boring and confusing. As it was, I was incredibly grateful for the list of characters at the beginning of the book, because there was no way I could keep them all straight and remember who everyone was and how they were connected. As it was, even up to the end I was thinking wait, who’s Ada? Who’s Nino again? And those were pretty main characters, the fact that I was constantly forgetting who they were and what they were doing there is telling.

The Five-Star Weekend. After her husband dies suddenly, an Internet famous woman decides to host what’s known as a five-star weekend: a girl’s weekend with four friends from different stages of her life. Pandemonium ensues, as would be expected with five women with secrets, various pasts, and current stresses. Listen, let’s not overthink this. It’s just a fun, light, fluffy beach read that will probably make you hungry with all the food descriptions. Next beach vacation I’m downloading more from this author. It’s candy in book form, in the best way. 

Thank you to everyone who submitted questions to my Ask Me Anything; I am in the midst of answering them all, and I welcome anyone who still has a question to submit it. In the meantime, have a beautiful week, friends. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Gnomevember Edition

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I don’t usually leave my Favourite Things until the last day of the month, but here we are! November is an underrated month, in my mind. It’s the month of Tiny Secret Festive Season and Christmas shopping, it’s preparing holiday cards and baking gingery things. It’s Mint Chocolate season, which is my favourite of all the flavours, and it’s the month to start playing holiday music with abandon. There are so many happy things, that without further ado I bring you:

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Gnomevember Edition

Gnomevember

One could argue that any month in the Boyhouse is Gnomevember, really, but if every month is a specific celebration of gnomes then perhaps no month is a specific celebration of gnomes, if you know what I mean. So when Michelle (HI MICHELLE) started talking about Gnomevember, I was clearly going to be all in. One of my favourite things this month is that Michelle’s dollhouse has now been overtaken by gnomes, and it is the most charming thing I have ever seen.

A few weeks ago I was getting the mail and there was a little package in there labelled Tiny Secret Festive Season, from my dear friend Allison (HI ALLISON). She had sent me this little guy, who lights up, which is a desperately needed thing as the sunset is now at 3:59 pm. 3:59 pm!!! What will happen by Winter Solstice? I’ll be lighting this guy a lot, that’s what.

He was in a plastic bag, with a note “Help, help, I can’t breathe,” which was the most delightful little surprise. Obviously I saved him.

The very next day my sweet friend Sammi (HI SAMMI) came by for a visit, and with her came this guy:

If I wasn’t overwhelmed enough with the kindness and love of my dear friends, this arrived in the mail from the beautiful and talented Suzanne (HI SUZANNE).

And, of course, my old Christmas gnomes have set themselves up on the kitchen windowsill.

Am I actually living in a full-sized version of Michelle’s dollhouse? MAYBE! Dreams do come true, people, and my home is happily gnome-tastic.

Brace Yourselves

I had received a number of questions about my bracelets, and so I wanted to show you my Christmas one. I wear it from November 1 to January 1, and it just brings me so much joy.

The bangle itself is engraved The Best Is Yet To Come which is a really lovely sentiment. A few of the charms are also engraved: the gingerbread man says Life Is Sweet, the mistletoe says Meet Me Under The Mistletoe, and the snowflake scene says, appropriately enough, Merry Christmas. Each charm was a gift from either my husband, the boys, or my parents.

A few years ago, I had trouble with the clasp spontaneously opening up, and sometimes I’d find that a charm had slipped off it, usually, and kind of depressingly, into my dish glove. But December of 2021 I was out shopping; there was a ton of snow, I was wearing my warmest coat and gloves, I was in and out of the car with my mask on, and everything felt just uncomfortable. I don’t wear a mask anymore, but I clearly remember the awkwardness of it, especially in winter with all the clothing layers and going in and out of the minus 20 weather. Anyway, I got home from groceries and errands, and noticed that my bracelet had unclasped and my cute little snowman charm, a gift from the boys, was missing.

It was December 2021, people. I think we all remember what that time was like. Everything felt challenging and depressing, it was the second pandemic Christmas, we were heading into yet another lockdown, my kids’ schooling was weird and constantly interrupted, and my missing snowman was the last straw. I sat on the floor and sobbed. I sobbed like a small child forced to sit on Santa’s lap against her will. I sobbed like a small child forced to interact with a clown at a birthday party, and then later losing the balloon that said clown had foisted upon her to reduce the sobbing.

I retraced my steps, including those to the snow-covered London Drugs parking lot, to no avail. And you might think there is a happy, snowman-charm-related ending to this story, but you will notice that there is no snowman on the bracelet. This is not about the snowman. My favourite thing is that my younger son, aged 16, went to the Pandora store in the mall on December 23 of that year to see if he could replace it. The thought of him, with his friend who was just our houseguest two weeks ago, being at the Pandora store looking for a snowman charm for his mom brings me more happiness than even that charm could. He was unable to replace it as the snowman charm had been, as they say in Pandora-speak, retired. Over the past two years the guys have looked for a snowman multiple times, only to be told either no longer exists, or that they could buy the snowman from the movie Frozen, which, I am sorry to say, is a subpar snowman and one which I do not wish to have.

Anyway, I love this bracelet for the two months of the year that I wear it, it brings me so much joy and happiness, and I will just hold the snowman memory in my heart.

Drink And Be Merry

With the exception of 2020, we have seen my husband’s cousin and her husband (HI DARCY AND DEREK) around Christmas every year, and they share my great love for Christmas Vacation. Last year they gave me these fabulous stemless wine glasses:

Years ago, knowing also my great love for Buddy the Elf, they gave the boys each a mug with hot chocolate mix and marshmallows; I have coopted these for my morning coffee:

Play That Christmas Music, White Girl

Almost universally, I love Christmas music. I love the classical and instrumental, I love churchy hymns, I love modern pop songs, midcentury ones, and everything in between. The only song I really strongly dislike is Wonderful Christmastime, which puts me on edge like you would not believe. My son would also like to tell you, dear reader, that in the Boyhouse we also loathe songs that feature out-of-tune children, such as Two Front Teeth, but I am pretending that such songs don’t even exist.

One song that I love so much that I have an entire playlist devoted to the original and all of its covers is Last Christmas. I play it on the piano. I sing it to myself in the shower. I can never, ever get enough of it.

Other favourites include Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas, Santa Baby, Baby, It’s Cold Outside (I KNOW BUT I LOVE IT), and Driving Home For Christmas. I always, always cry when I hear White Wine In The Sun, so may I recommend it to anyone who would enjoy a nice cathartic holiday cry? Ditto with River.

On the more modern side, I absolutely LOVE N’Sync’s Merry Christmas Happy Holidays. Although, now that I have said “modern,” I should probably check when it was released…okay, well, it looks like it came out in 1998. Huh. I also love Underneath the Tree by Kelly Clarkson, and that was released in 2013, so I’m within a decade. THAT IS MODERN ENOUGH.

Here Baby, There Mama, Everywhere Daddy Daddy

I have an important hair update for you! This past weekend marked exactly one year since I started taking Nutrafol for hair loss, and I can tell you it has made a huge difference. My hair no longer falls out in big clumps. I am no longer cleaning handfuls of hair out of my hairbrush or unclogging the drain. I wish I could say this was a sponsored post because that shit is EXPENSIVE, but alas, I am paying for it myself. The expense is worth circumventing my eventual nervous breakdown due to balding, and so I will keep it up.

I do have one teeny tiny grievance about this Favourite Thing, and that is my roots. The first week after I colour my hair, I am in love with myself and my reflection. The second week, as my white roots come in and I have a halo around my face, I toy with the idea of just letting it go, colour-wise. I think about my many friends who have embraced the grey and who look absolutely fabulous, and I think, hey, that could be me! The third week, I begin a descent into despair, becoming increasingly unhappy with not only the colour, but also the texture of my roots. Before four weeks have passed, I have a headful of hair colour and a timer set.

The problem, as I see it, is that my perimenopausal menstrual cycle is now, and has been for a while, three and a half weeks at best, and somehow this has synced up with my hair colour cycle. My extreme dissatisfaction with my hair and general appearance perfectly correlates with the days leading up to my period, and although I would like to break this cycle, I cannot. I am trapped in a problem of my own making. I am a snake eating my own tail.

That said, as with all the privilege in my life, I feel I cannot complain. Can a person take an incredibly expensive supplement for hair growth, and then complain about the hair growth? No. That is ridiculous. So I embrace my boxed hair colour. In any case, if you are curious, Nutrafol really has worked for me, and I had a grandmother who actually wore a wig, so let me tell you, genetics are not on my side, people.

Outfit of the Month

Some families have matching pajama sets on Christmas Eve, but in the Boyhouse, we have WWE Christmas sweaters for Decorating Day.

If you haven’t been around for the past two Christmases, I will fill you in: the guys bought WWE sweaters post-Christmas 2020 for 80% off, and I resisted strongly getting one of my own, for reasons which I feel are obvious. However, as the year went on, I started to feel a little left out about it, and so my husband looked into buying me a sweater. By that time, there was only one woman’s sweater at 80% off; the rest were at regular price, and regular price was far too high for me to want to spend. The one discounted sweater was cute enough, but it was only available in a size that was six sizes larger than the one I normally wear. My choices were a comically large but inexpensive sweater, or one that fit properly but was ridiculously costly. I suppose I could have gotten a men’s sweater, but I believe in lifting up other women, even if the women in question are lifting each other up only to body slam them in the ring.

You can clearly see my Scottish heritage, in my extremely oversized sweater. Anyway, the point is that Decorating Day is a Big Deal, and so we all wear them for the festive occasion.

It’s been a really great November – STILL NO SNOW, YOU GUYS – and now it’s time to bring on December! Do you have anything you’ve loved this month? Tell me everything. xo