Category Archives: Luckiness

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Brought To You By The Letter C Edition

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As I was putting together my Favourite Things this month, I realized that all of them started, or sort of started, with the letter C. So many C words! But not this C word:

My friend Hannah (HI HANNAH) sent that to me a few years ago and I think about it constantly. Every time I feel grumpy or irritated, including but not limited to around the holiday season, I think I’m a cunty reindeer topiary today! It is immediately cheering.

So I guess that IS kind of one of my Favourite Things.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Brought To You By The Letter C Edition

Correcting The Crepe

Listen, I am a Lady of a Certain Age, and while I do not, Nora Ephron-like, feel bad about my neck, I also don’t feel great about it. I mean, it’s fine. When I smile fully all the ligaments pop out like a striated tree trunk, and it’s slightly shadowed by jowls, but in general, it’s fine. It’s a neck. Nothing is going to change those features.

But I do want the skin on my neck – and decolletage – to be as smooth as possible, and so I was influenced by a podcaster to buy this cream from Gold Bond:

I must tell you that the influencer in question is in her thirties and so I question how much crepe she is correcting, here, but I have been using this for the requisite (for me) three months, and I can say that I do see a difference. I apply a little to my stomach and lower back as well, and I really think my skin is much softer and less crepey. At the very least, it’s extremely moisturizing and also unscented, so it would probably be great for anyone suffering from winter-dry, sensitive skin.

Caffeine, Inside and Out

There are people who don’t mainline caffeine like their lives and the lives of their loved ones depend on it, and there are people who don’t wear mascara. I salute them all. However, as we all know I am an addict of both items. In addition to drinking vast amounts of coffee every day, I also like to use it in my skin care routine, specifically in my daytime undereye cream. I used to exclusively use The Ordinary Caffeine Solution, but a few months ago I bought Neutrogena’s Caffeine Undereye Cream SPECIFICALLY because I got PC points for Neutrogena products at Superstore.

Does it work? I have no idea, because I do not know what I’d look like without using a caffeinated undereye cream. But it has a nice little tingle to it and my undereye bags do not look like steamer trunks, so I will take it as a win. I do have little wrinkles around my eyes but, as esteemed beauty editor Val Monroe says, those are the least unbeautiful lines on my face.

Casing The Joint

Speaking of the letter C, my beloved Aunty C (HI AUNTY) has been gently after me for years to use a silk pillowcase, and for years I have gently ignored this advice because I am half Scottish. I already have a pillowcase! I would think, in a miserly manner, looking at the price of silk pillowcases. Plus, if you have one you have to have two, as they are hand-wash-hang-to-dry items. What am I, made of money? However. Blissy had a wild Black Friday sale, and I quickly consulted Aunty C to get her opinion on the brand. She mentioned that a couple of other brands had a better gromme count, something I have zero knowledge about, but, as she says, at the end of the day, the sale wins. I crossed the Rubicon, so to speak, and she was right: I’m never looking back.

Not only do I see an improvement in my skin and less hair breakage, but it’s also cooler, and I think we all know that Ladies of a Certain Age enjoy a bit of coolness in the bedroom. We are Hot Stuff, literally and figuratively.

Plus it comes in such a cute little box! What I wouldn’t have done for a handy little box like this when I was a kid, in which to keep treasures and doll clothes and whatnot. I have saved the boxes and maybe there will be a treasure that needs a home.

Creatine-ing a Monster

My husband and sons have used creatine “for gains” for a number of years, and I was always quite critical of this. My husband would assure me that creatine is “the most researched supplement on the planet” which is probably true, because men. However! I dug in my heels and argued against it, and my argument was an unresearched “that’s stupid.”

Well, well, well. How the mighty have fallen. Just like everything I have viewed through the Judgmental Lens in my life, this has come back to bite me. It all started when my husband started telling me about new research regarding perimenopausal women and creatine, and how many benefits accrue from its usage, including increased bone density. And that, right there, is my kryptonite. I feel that I spent my prime bone-building years neglecting my poor skeleton, if not outwardly abusing it. I have been trying very hard to make up for those lost years, and so I now grimly scoop some creatine into my morning BCAA mixture.

I’ve been using this for, again, three months, and I really have gotten stronger. The econometrician in me would like to note that it is impossible to net out the changes from regular strength gains through the routine I’ve had in place for the last five years, as I am not living a sliding-door kind of double life. However, I have noticed a real increase and that makes me and my skeleton happy.

Cardio Queen

To me, there are few things less interesting to read or write about than the details of workout routines, but I got a very fun, workout-adjacent question in my Ask Me Anything from Lindsay (HI LINDSAY): How do you select your Peloton classes? Do you plan them in advance or go with vibes on the day?

This summer will mark six years since my husband, in what can only be called an act of self-preservation, rearranged our basement in order to fit the Peloton which he had ordered for me. It is never a chore for me to do my nearly-daily ride, and that is because I have a very specific, very joyful way of choosing them: I have a backlog of “bookmarked” rides based on the instructor and the playlist. Over the past six years I’ve developed a roster of favourite instructors based on general vibes and class programming (more climbs, fewer sprints): Ally, Cody, Hannah, and the entire British team. I rarely, if ever, take classes outside of that roster. But that’s not enough – I am very motivated by music, and so I always check the playlist first. My preference are “decades” rides, specifically from the 80s and 90s. If there is a disco ride? I can’t hit “start” fast enough!

I typically have a length of time in mind based on the day of the week, and so I look at the bookmarked classes and choose one. To answer Lindsay’s question, it’s a little bit planned and a little bit vibes, but it’s always great music and a fun, usually but not always British, instructor.

Sweaty selfie! Disco ride! Strange neck ligaments! This photo has it all.

Outfit of the Month

I was toying with discontinuing my favourite monthly outfit, but you know what? I love seeing other people’s clothes and so I’m going to keep it up for a while yet.

I have a few girlfriends – Florence, Carolyn, and Darlene specifically (HI FLORENCE HI CAROLYN HI DARLENE) who wear a lot of white and they look like snowy foxes. So crisp! So lovely! And I love the way I look in white so I always want to emulate that Snowy Fox Look, but practicality must, occasionally, prevail. All these gorgeous women go about their days in white tops and even white pants, looking fresh, and I do not know how. I know if I so much as buttoned up a pair of white pants, seconds later Rex would lean against me after rolling around outside, or I would sit in something, or I would immediately spill food or drink, or I would suddenly and unexpectedly experience an epically heavy rogue period. But every once in a while I throw caution to the wind and put on a white top, like this sheer Lululemon one with a white-and-grey striped tank underneath, a grey cardigan for warmth, and jeans.

But of course I spend ages in the kitchen every day and so I try to keep things pristine with an apron; this one was brought from Scotland by my parents many years ago.

Sadly, at dinner I managed to somehow spill salsa on my sleeve, rendering the apron useless for the intended purpose. I guess one of my Favourite Things is also Oxy Clean, for such occasions.

Friends, I am taking a blog break for a couple of weeks, and when I’m back I will have news, stories, and adventures to share. Take care of yourselves tenderly, and I will see you all (C you all?) in February. xo

The Highlight Reel

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I ended 2025 as a War History Buff, having listened to every episode on the World Wars and the leadup to those wars and interesting one-offs like the Christmas truce of 1914 on the podcast The Rest is History. I learned so much! And now, here we are, fully into January 2026, and I have become obsessed with a podcast about Sweet Valley High, Double Love, in which two Irish women around my age deep dive into each book in the 180 book series.

Hopefully this isn’t having a negative impact on my brain. I hope all my World War knowledge won’t be nudged out by dramatic 80s teen antics, but I don’t see how it won’t be. I mean, Elizabeth gets kidnapped by an orderly while candy striping at the hospital, the very same hospital that Annie is recovering in after an intentional overdose following her failure to make the cheerleading squad, due to Jessica’s bullying and rumour-spreading. How can reality compete with THAT?

There is SO much drama. There are so many dances, and dates, and tragic events! It’s making my daily drudgery so much more enjoyable. Never have I been so entertained while folding the laundry. On the topic of drudgery, in a recent discussion about social media, a friend expressed astonishment that I follow a number of authors on Instagram. What could authors possibly be posting on Instagram? she wondered. Wouldn’t their lives just be boring, sitting in front of a laptop all day?

Well. I was quite perplexed by this question because really, what does anyone post on Instagram? Most, if not all of us lead very ordinary lives filled with many dull and monotonous tasks every single day, and what is Instagram for if not to highlight little glimmers that add sparkle to those lives? It feels like the social media equivalent of Mary Oliver-ing, of paying attention and being astonished. Yes, we might spend hours in front of a laptop screen, or folding laundry, or chopping vegetables, but that doesn’t mean we can’t appreciate our blooming amaryllis, or a sunset that knocks our socks off.

We might also appreciate how unhinged and weird Duolingo is these days.

Eddy! I am scandalized.

Not every moment is a flower or a sunset or even a weirdly sexual language app. But the truth is I actually DO love seeing the very mundane aspects of other people’s lives, and I probably WOULD enjoy seeing a whole scroll of photos of people typing busily away on laptops or folding laundry. And if a person posts a photo of their hair or outfit? I am HERE for it. I am nosy, is what I’m saying.

I have had a number of meetings lately with promotions and social media specialists, in advance of the release of Inhale Exhale, which is coming out next month, if you can believe it.

I’m very excited, of course, but am also practicing non-attachment. Sending creative work out into the world to be examined and critiqued and possibly loathed is a very vulnerable thing. This week I read The Ten Year Affair, which is one of the best books I have ever read, and guess what: it’s largely panned on Goodreads. I did what I never do, which was to read reviews, and I was absolutely shocked by them. Everyone has different tastes, of course, but I felt like so many of these reviewers completely missed the point of the book. I started to wonder if we had even read the same book, at which point I put my phone down and slowly backed away.

I was looking at my Ask Me Anything form and typing away at my laptop over the holiday break, when I looked up at my older son, who was milling around. My blog readers want me to talk about parenting adult children, I told him. But the thing is, I don’t really do anything. He shrugged. Maybe that’s the point, he said.

Putting a book out into the world feels a little bit like that. It feels like letting go and seeing what happens. I had so much fun writing it, and it turned out the way I wanted it to, and that feels like the whole point. It was pure joy to write, and I hope it brings joy to readers.

And if that doesn’t, maybe my next project will be Sweet Valley: The Midlife Years. A Botoxed Jessica gets lip fillers and they are way too overdone! The mole on Elizabeth’s shoulder has changed, and it turns out all those years of tanning on the beach were unwise! Lila’s getting her third divorce after having an affair with the guy who cleans her pool! Everyone’s skin has turned to leather! Todd’s depressed because his dreams of being a basketball star amounted to nothing and now he spends his days watching General Hospital and eating onion dip! Bruce Patman gets drunk and drives his Porsche off a bridge! Can Roger, who against all odds did make it to medical school and is now a renowned emergency medicine doctor, save him? Tune in!

Weekly Reading

Of course, anyone who follows my Instagram knows that my feed is largely made up of books that I’ve read, but one thing I don’t do is talk about my DNFs. This is mostly because, in the past, I rarely DNF a book, but that is going to CHANGE in 2026, people. I am going to DNF whenever I feel like it! And I had one this week, but I will say I hesitated greatly before putting it aside, and that is because this is a book that actually lives on my shelves. I bought a copy of The Dud Avocado after a friend recommended it, because the library didn’t have a copy. Maybe it’s because I started it after The Ten Year Affair, and I was adrift not knowing what to read after a masterpiece, but it just seemed stupid to me. But I didn’t want to abandon it because I spent money on it. This is very silly. It’s a sunk cost and if the worst comes to the worst and I never pick it up again, I can give it to a Little Free Library, where hopefully it will be loved, or at least tolerated, by someone else.

Best Laid Plans. From Childhood Reread Week to Important Adult Behaviour! Some of you may already know this author as Sarah from The Shu Box– she is part of the blogging community and also a podcaster (HI SHU). It was great to “hear” her voice on these pages. There are a lot of takeaways here for planning and organizing one’s life to achieve goals. The book has templates for annual, seasonal, monthly, weekly, and daily planning, but my favourite part was seeing quotes and anecdotes about my friends in the blogging community, shoutout to Jenny, Lisa, Elisabeth, and Kae. I felt starstruck! I KNOW THEM! (HI JENNY LISA ELISABETH KAE).

The Ten Year Affair. As noted above! Wow wow WOW. Friends, this book blew me away. Absolutely blew me away. It follows a woman who escapes the drudgery and disappointment in her life by having an affair…but only in her mind. This mental affair with a man she meets at baby playgroup lasts for years, and then the lines blur from fantasy to reality. At the end of the day this book is about the sublime and also the mediocre, the little boring ordinary details that make up a life and also the striving to make something extraordinary. The characters are complete and nuanced, and there is a lot of subtext and unwritten backstory that makes this a literary gem. It is also really, really funny. I cannot say enough about this book except that it is truly an exceptional read about a non-exceptional world. A perfect book!

Games and Rituals. After I finished The Ten Year Affair, I was in a bit of a slump, a bit bereft, a bit “what now.” So I stared at my bookshelves and saw my Katherine Heiny books and thought YES. YES, that was exactly what I needed, to reread a collection of pure delight. Friends, I cannot say enough about this author and her ability to convey deep emotion and build worlds in only a few sentences – her writing is so tight, so smart, so evocative, and so incredibly funny. This collection of short stories is just one wonderful read after another. Every single one is perfect and absolutely delightful and made me both laugh out loud and stare at the wall thoughtfully.

Happy Monday, friends. I hope you are all taking care of yourselves in these very distressing days. May I suggest listening to Sweet Valley High recaps to dissociate from the news? It works like a charm. Take care, friends. xo

Holiday Roundup and Reading 2025

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

I have also been cooking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Holiday Reading

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

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

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

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

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

Nostalgic Festive Chaos

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I love looking around other people’s houses, and I love seeing all the little touches that make a house a home: photos and artwork, knickknacks and book stacks, colour and materials and furniture. I particularly love it during the holiday season when I think homes reflect the personalities of the inhabitants. My personal theme for holiday decor is Nostalgic Festive Chaos. Nothing need match, and indeed, it’s preferred if it doesn’t!

My tree in particular is a historical record of our family. We add at least one ornament every year, something that speaks in some way to the year that has passed. When the kids were younger, my parents would give each of them an ornament that would also reflect their interests that year, which means we have everything on our tree from Lightning McQueen and Thomas the Tank Engine to Roman Reigns as a snowman, the latter of which careful readers might be able to discern in the photo above.

Every ornament has a story; sometimes the stories are simply that I took my preschoolers on an outing to Walmart and we ended up with stuffed decorative snowmen, and sometimes the stories are more involved and emotional.

The Santa in the middle came from Rome, the white and red ball in the very bottom right-hand corner came from Tofino the year of the Vancouver Olympics, and the ball beside the snowman came from my best friend Jen (HI JEN).

This year’s new ornaments came from a ceramics factory tour in Fes: the goat and the hand of Fatima. My friend Sandi (HI SANDI) brought me that snowman with a Scottish cow from her trip to Scotland; she has the same one, so when I look at the ornament I feel extra connected to her. My sweet friend Michelle (HI MICHELLE) sent me the handmade gnome, my friend Sharyl’s husband (HI SHARYL) carved the little snowman in the bottom left corner, and the Clue ornament came from my parents, after many, many games of Clue with the boys at their house one summer. Each of the four snow globes has a family member’s name on it, and the narwhal was our ornament from 2020, because I could not bear to have anything on the tree that reminded me of masks or Covid or isolation. A narwhal seemed much the better choice! Bye Buddy! Hope you find your dad!

One of the most marvellous things about having children is that their personalities are all their own. One of my sons dutifully hangs all his childhood craft ornaments, most notably the kindergarten photo of him in a Santa hat mounted on a CD and surrounded by glitter, but he puts them on the very back of the tree, unperceived by anyone. The other son insists on having his preschool angel in the most visible spot on the tree. Every year we laugh at it, because the face. The face is like something out of a horror movie. This year it’s next to our Barkley ornament, and close to Bob Ross, even if it is as unartistic as can be. I love how different my boys are in this respect. It’s like the New Year’s that they came home from the same party: one of them was the designated driver, who made sure everyone got home safely, and the other one was missing his shirt.

Twenty-five years ago, my husband and I were visiting his parents and I gathered these gigantic pine cones from this very property, so it feels very full-circle to have them on the table in this house. I have displayed them in this bowl for twenty-five Christmases now.

I have had this Nativity scene for even longer; I bought the figures in Mexico in 1997, and every year setting up the creche is an event. The gnome in the background was given to me by my friend Sammi (HI SAMMI) on the first Christmas we lived here, and behind the creche is a bowl of rocks and driftwood from a long-ago trip to Vancouver Island, which is displayed year round, and to which I add some ornaments from my husband’s childhood. I have to be careful though, because ornaments from the 60s are VERY fragile. I have, sadly, shattered a few accidentally.

In my last office Christmas party before resigning, the executive assistant to the CEO had made – by hand – one of these felt snowmen for every one of the 150 people at the party. The work that went into that astounds me, but then, I am unable to even sew on a button, as evidenced by the missing buttons on these fellows. Buttonless or not, I display them every year in honour of my former career and for the tireless woman who always went above and beyond in every way. The vase and candlesticks were wedding gifts from my husband’s company, and I like to fill the former with ornaments that are missing hooks or are otherwise unsuitable for the tree.

I had many worries when we moved into this house two years ago, and one of the most consuming worries was where are we going to hang the stockings. I definitely had better things to worry about than not having a mantel, however, I will say that I am pleased with this stocking placement. The low-key Advent calendar was bought on one of those I must get out of the house with preschoolers trip to Walmart, to ceremoniously count down to Christmas.

Last, but definitely not least in this tour of Nostalgic Festive Chaos is this pair of candles that I purchased from London Drugs in 1999 for our new apartment. The snowman has a bite taken out of his hat, courtesy of my then-teething older son, when he was eight months old.

Speaking of bites and chaos, this weekend was our Annual Gingerbread Decorating.

Weekly Reading

HOLD ONTO YOUR HATS. This week’s list is CHAOS.

Wild Dark Shore. Wow, what an ending! There are so many twists in this book and I didn’t see ANY of them coming! My friend Suzanne (HI SUZANNE), who loved this book enormously, warned me nervously that it is “dystopian-adjacent” and it IS. It is just teetering on the edge of dystopian which, of course, is something I avoid at all costs. Why, though? Suzanne asked me what it is about dystopian novels that are a big NOPE for me, and I really had to think about it. What is it? I think it’s the despair and the futuristic feel. I also think that climate-change dystopian novels – of which this is one – give me anticipatory anxiety. The thought that this COULD happen is really, really scary for me and I’d rather not read about it. HOWEVER. Like she said – and I agree – this is more dystopian-ADJACENT, and if the story was not so compelling and the writing so beautiful, I probably would have abandoned it. The story itself, and the message of a family fighting for each other, and the hope that goes into just living when the world around you is being destroyed, was a message that I really liked. The twists and turns were also so well done! So while this is a book that is upsetting in idea – people taking care of a seed bank off the coast of Antarctica, seeds that are being saved for the end of the world as we know it – the story itself was both beautiful and thrilling.

The Face on the Milk Carton. Another one from my friend Suzanne (HI SUZANNE, again) who had read this with her daughter. What happens when a girl recognizes her younger self as a “missing child” on the side of a milk carton? Was she kidnapped? Memories start to surface for her and she seeks the truth. This is a YA book and I would say it’s for slightly older tweens, as there is a surprising (for me) amount of sex talk between the 15 year old protagonist and her boyfriend. Actually her boyfriend is a bit of a sex pest, which feels accurate. I remember this phenomenon from being a 15 year old girl myself in 1990, when this was published.

Wave. When I read about this book on my friend Julie’s blog (HI JULIE) I thought it was a novel about a woman who, along with her parents, husband, and two small children, was caught in the tsunami in Sri Lanka 2004. She was the only survivor. I was surprised, then, when I picked it up to see it is not a novel but a MEMOIR. And it is very raw, as you can well imagine, the descriptions of actually being swept away and then dealing with the sudden death of all her family members. Eventually the woman goes on to heal, but it is obviously very painful in every way. A remarkable story and one that is devastating. 

The Relaxed Woman. I have not felt this way about a book since I read Your Body, Your Best Friend in August 2020. I wondered if this woman and I actually share a brain and, interestingly enough, she is also an Ashtanga yogi and meditation practitioner. Maybe we are long-lost sisters! This incredibly affirming, uplifting, inspirational, and also very smart and well-researched book examines the guilt and shame that we as women are conditioned to feel when we require rest and restoration. It examines the very damaging ideal of “Superwoman,” the woman who can do it all and push through everything in order to be as efficient and productive as possible. It shows that not only is the Superwoman mindset terribly damaging to our personal physical, mental, and emotional health – not to mention our relationships and actual quality of work – but it is also damaging to feminism and women as a whole. When we refuse to take the rest our bodies, minds, and souls need, we are perpetuating this myth that we need to “earn” rest, just like we need to “earn” calories. It’s just wrong. We don’t need to EARN anything, we deserve it just by being humans on this earth. And in fact, we need it. Our bodies need it, our souls need it, our minds need it. This shows how constant “busyness” damages our physical health – including metabolism – and our minds, with brain fog and cognitive decline. The book blends neuroscience and psychology to show – without victim blaming that can often rear its head in these types of books, I’m looking at you, Dr Mate – how to journey towards becoming a Relaxed Woman. There are very practical and gentle suggestions in this book, and if I was a billionaire, I would buy one for every woman on this earth. I am not, sadly, and so I will just buy my own copy and tell everyone about it. I put sticky notes in for reference but then realized the entire book is a sticky note. I have so much more to say about this, but will write a blog post about it – but not until January, because I am RESTING.

Yes, I am resting – I am taking a holiday break and will be back for my annual roundup on New Year’s Eve. Until then, friends, take care of yourselves and I hope you all have a beautiful holiday season. 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

Acts of Service

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While decorating the tree and the interior of the house is firmly a whole-family affair, putting up the outdoor lights and decorations are solely in my husband’s jurisdiction, with some help from one or both of our sons. He was finishing setting them up a few weeks ago, and when I looked out the kitchen window I saw him hanging a large red ball on our heart tree, a miniature tree whose branches grow in a downward swoop. I knew immediately what he was doing and I ran outside, with Rex at my heels. Is that a Charlie Brown Christmas tree? I squealed, and he said that it was.

In my recent Ask Me Anything (still open!), Suzanne (HI SUZANNE) asked: How did you know your husband was The One? At this point in time, my husband has been a part of my life for longer than he hasn’t. We were friends for almost two years before we started dating, and by “dating,” I mean “having sex,” since we had spent much time in each other’s company on platonic dates prior to that. How did you go from friends to more than friends? someone asked me, when I related my husband’s apparent 20 month seduction plan. Um, we were supposed to go see The Full Monty but ended up having sex? I guess I saw A Full Monty, if not The Full Monty.

Anyway, by that time, I knew that he was everything I wanted in a man: he was, and is, very smart, logical, and handy, fun to be around and to do things with but also responsible and serious, and, not incidentally, incredibly attractive. I would say that all of those attributes – especially his attractiveness – have only increased with age and time. In addition to that, when it comes to love languages we share the same one, which makes marriage and life a lot easier, and that is Acts of Service.

My husband does many things every day just to make me happy. Sometimes these are big things, like building an entire garden complete with garden boxes from scratch, but sometimes they are smaller things, like taking my car out just to fill it with gas. And sometimes it is putting up Christmas lights and creating a Charlie Brown tree that I can see from my kitchen window.

For the past fifteen years or more, my husband has set the timer for our Christmas lights so that they not only come on in the late afternoon, but also at 4:30 in the morning, so I can look at them when I have my coffee and practice yoga. It’s those kinds of little things that make a happy marriage, I think.

Marriage is an interesting thing; if you’re lucky, it goes on a long time and you can grow and change together while still maintaining the core of who you are as an individual. And it goes through so many stages over the years and decades: there are choppy waters and smooth sailing, there are times when you can’t keep your hands off each other and times when you’re so exhausted by babies and toddlers that you can’t abide more touching. There are times when life is so busy and so stressful that you feel like semi-amiable roommates who fuck once in a while. But then there’s a time when you just feel so fortunate to have found one another, and hopefully that time lasts for most, if not all, of the marriage.

No matter what endeavor I come up with, my husband is supportive. I have only to mention that I want to go somewhere or do something, and by the time I turn around he’s knee-deep in research about how to make it happen. Although, I will say he is less than enthusiastic about my recent world war obsession. How long will this go on? he asked in a tone that can only be described as “despairing,” when I mentioned Blitzkrieg. You’re only on Blitzkrieg? The war has barely started! You’ve been talking about this for weeks! I didn’t have the heart to tell him it’s an ongoing series and they drop new episodes all the time. My son suggested that this was going to be our new reality, and I will be talking about war for the rest of our lives. God, I hope not. I miss the person I used to be back in November, listening to podcasts about skin care, before I became a Military Strategist. At this time of year I should be listening to podcasts about holiday fashion and parties, or the best books of 2025, and instead I just downloaded four hours’ worth of episodes about the assassination of Franz Ferdinand.

Weekly Reading

I had a great week of reading, but I have to mention that I had a DNF this week. It’s been my goal to DNF more when a book is not hitting, so I can spend time with books I love, rather than…not. The book in question was The Egg and I; it had potential but there were three racist slurs within the first two chapters of this supposedly humourous book, and that was just three too many. I know it’s “of its time” but no thanks.

The Road To Tender Hearts. In the Acknowledgements section, the author says of the house she lived in from 2020-2021, “that rental house gave us two gas leaks, two basement floods, a gang of rats who nested in our car and caused $1400 in damage (not covered by insurance because the car “didn’t explode” FU GEICO), black mold on the walls, lead in the water, three trees that the arborist said were going to fall on the house after he came to cut down one, poison ivy that blanketed the yard, a neighbor who stabbed her sister on the day we moved in, and a teenager who crashed his car driving too fast and died at the base of our driveway. When we moved out, I sent the new tenant a message to make sure she filtered her water, and she wrote back: “Did you ever have any paranormal experiences in this house?” “No,” I wrote back. “But that could explain some things.””
Now, if this paragraph made you laugh a horrified coughing laugh like it did for me, then you must read this book immediately. Because while she doesn’t write about a house that’s actively trying to kill her, she does say she wanted to write a book about every single terrible and traumatic thing she could think about…but funny. And did she ever. This book is the weirdest heart-warming delight of a book about all the journeys to death one can have, and I loved it with all of my (tender) heart. 

Wreck. The poem that starts “Your children are not your children” by Kahlil Gibran came to mind a lot while I was reading this book. “You may give them your love, but not your thoughts, For they have their own thoughts.” On the surface this – much anticipated for me, I love Catherine Newman! – book is about a woman grappling with a strange autoimmune diagnosis and her own mortality, while also coming to terms with a fatal accident in her town that is only tangentially connected to her and her family. But to me it was about loving and accepting people even when their lives and choices are different from your own, and what it is like to be a mother of adult children. I will say that my favourite parts of this book were the scenes with the local Buy Nothing group. Did that ever take me back to my Calgary days! “To gift: leftover pizza from my kid’s birthday party. To gift: coconut milk, expired six months ago. To gift: a variety of Sephora samples.” (That last one was me). Thanks again to my friend Lisa (HI LISA) for sending me a SIGNED and personalized copy of this book!

Because of Winn-Dixie. Oddly enough, this book is referenced extensively in Save The Cat! Writes a Novel, and so I decided to pick it up. It’s about a girl who adopts a big dog who subsequently won’t let her out of his sight and also makes her life immeasurably better. Relatable! It’s a very sweet story about letting people into your life, not judging people for their past but for their present actions, and that everyone has sadness within. I wondered why I hadn’t ever read this lovely little book as a child and then realized I was twenty-five when it was published.

This is by no means a flex because none of us have control over the weather, but we have been having such a mild December, with drizzly rain and, other than one short-lived day, no snow. Looking at photos of my friends from Alberta, Ontario, Saskatchewan and the Midwestern US, I feel like I’m on an entirely different planet. Although this is my third December living here, I am still not used to rain in December. Maybe I never will get used to it! In any case, every day we are edging closer to the least amount of daylight – just over eight hours now, sunset at 3:56, sunrise at 7:47 – which makes the outdoor lights even more of a gift. Have a beautiful week, friends. xo

Neither Rain Nor Sleet Nor Snow Nor Hail

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I was at the post office, elf-like, with a bag full of parcels to mail. There were a few people waiting in line, so I picked up some flat-rate boxes and started cramming things into them as best I could, addressing them merrily. One of the parcels was the wrong size for a flat-rate box, but I had expected as much and had already addressed it and secured the festive paper with what was probably way too much packing tape. By the time I had finished my little project, the lineup had disappeared, and so I sauntered up to the counter.

When I moved here I very much grieved the loss of my neighbourhood, where it felt like everyone knew my name, or at least my face. I felt both nameless and faceless as I moved about my business in my new city. But now, two plus years later, I feel like I’m pretty well-known around town, and by “around town,” I mean at the library and the grocery store and, importantly for this story, at the post office.

I was thinking a lot about mail this week as I finally read The Correspondent, which I will talk about shortly, but just know that I loved it excessively. Longtime readers might remember when I found an entire moving box full of letters: mostly from my grandma, but also many from various pen pals I kept over the years. Old fashioned letters really do tell a story, and although I send postcards and holiday cards and birthday cards and, sadly, sympathy cards with much regularity, I haven’t sent an actual letter since my grandma died almost twenty-six years ago. I do, however, exchange epistle-length emails with one of my former senior yoga students, which feel correspondence-like. Writing this blog, and reading those of my friends, also feels very correspondence-adjacent.

There’s nothing quite like getting mail, though, which is why I am a regular at the post office. I take a lot of time to choose pretty stamps – only available for Canadian addresses, so sorry, non-Canadian friends! – and I’m always excited when there is something new. Last month there were Blue Rodeo stamps, BLUE RODEO. May I remind you of the 2008 Plates of Gold Gala?

In case you’re not up on your Canadiana, that is Jim Cuddy, singer of Blue Rodeo and the person who is referred to as “my boyfriend” in this house.

What I am saying is that I have really gotten to know the women who work at the post office, and as I ambled up to the counter looking like a cheerful version of the Grinch, balancing boxes and bags in my arms, the employee on duty apologized for not helping me with the flat-rate boxes. I don’t know how she possibly could have helped me shove gifts into them, but I appreciated the sentiment, and when she asked if I was sending any dangerous goods, I mentioned that one of the parcels contained a puzzle for my nine-year-old niece. This spurred a long and detailed conversation about puzzles, and how we liked them, and then she suddenly turned away and disappeared, only to return with a puzzle box lid and a small piece of said puzzle. This in turn spurred another long and detailed conversation, this time about the puzzle that was currently being constructed in the post office break room and how difficult it was and how we both preferred puzzles that are vignettes rather than difficult landscapes, of which this was one.

The employee looked around to ensure no one else was in the office, and then she gestured to me to come with her. We went together into the back office, where I could see not only the puzzle-in-progress, but I could also see the walls which were completely lined with completed puzzles. It was like A Beautiful Mind, but with puzzles.

And at that moment, I thought this is what life is all about. Live your life with arms wide open! I didn’t wake up that morning thinking I would tour around the back of a post office, talking about different brands of puzzle glue, but here I was. The things that can happen when you don’t live a rushed existence! As we went back to the counter so that I could finish the actual job that I came to do, an elderly woman burst into the post office, and burst is really not an exaggeration. I would not say that she was the reason for all those “abuse will not be tolerated” signs, but she was quite snappish. She wanted to know WHEN letters would be delivered again.

When indeed. For those of you not in the know of the inner workings of Canada Post, earlier this fall there was a brief strike which became rotating strikes, and so the mail has been delivered, albeit slightly slower, since early November. The employee said as much to the woman, who was in disbelief.

I wondered if she had checked her mailbox at any time over the past six weeks. I pictured it exploding as she turned the key to her little box. I imagined that there would be an incredible backlog of, at the very least, flyers and bills. Perhaps there would even be a holiday card in there. And then I thought, maybe she had checked it, and maybe no one was sending her anything at all. Maybe she had a “no flyers” sign, maybe all her bills were paid online, maybe she had no one to send her a holiday card. Maybe she was just a cantankerous old lady who needed a lesson on the True Meaning of Christmas and who would, in time, be the recipient of much festive mail and become a beloved member of the community.

Well. I was letting my imagination get the better of me. I was creating an entire character arc in my mind and a whole story in which she would be serving Christmas dinner at a soup kitchen and would become attached to a plucky young orphan who would teach her all about LOVE, and meanwhile, the woman merely huffed and stormed off, presumably to open up her mailbox at last to find that Kellogg’s products were on sale at the Save On.

Weekly Reading

At the urging of my son, I need to issue a correction. There is another book which spurred actual tears once, and that is The Godfather. The son in question was a year old at the time, and I was gigantically pregnant with my second, reading The Godfather in the waiting room of the doctor’s office. I came across the part where the Don is asking the undertaker to do his best to prepare Sonny’s body for viewing. “I don’t want his mother to see him this way…look at how they massacred my boy.” I burst into tears. I have reread The Godfather several times over the past twenty years and never again have I cried, so I think it was more of a hormonal response than a literary one. Anyway, this story has been family lore lo these many years, and I cannot believe I forgot to mention it. Correction issued!

Great Big Beautiful Life. I had heard some criticism about this book, being a bit different from the author’s usual – but I liked this story about two writers competing to get access to and write the memoir of a mysterious, reclusive celebrity. There was a story within a story, which I like, and a twist which I didn’t see coming. A nice diversion of a book. 

Favourite Daughter. The author of this book is from Calgary, love to see that! I also loved seeing little snippets of my hometown sprinkled throughout this story of two women who discover that they are half-sisters after their father passes away – and after they discover he made a wild decision with regards to his rather significant estate. It made me think that two people can view and experience a person very differently or, relatedly, that one person can be very different to different people. Mainly, this book is about addiction and alcoholism, with detailed descriptions of withdrawal, recovery, and relapses. You all know I feel about such subjects, and for that reason, as well as a couple of others, this didn’t work for me.

The Correspondent. I have been waiting for months to read this book, and wow, was it worth the wait! To be honest, I was a bit worried, as this book has generated a lot of buzz. I was concerned that this would be another situation like Remarkably Bright Creatures or Where The Crawdads Sing where everyone in the world but me was in love with it. But I need not have worried. This is an extremely Nicole-coded book! What an incredible piece of writing. This epistolary novel showcases the extraordinary life of an ordinary woman which, if you’ve been following along with me for any amount of time, is my absolute favourite. It doesn’t shy away from showing deep regrets, bad mistakes, failures, and general cantankerousness. But it also shows the power of the written word and of communication, the joys of relationships of all kinds, and the beauty of living a life with arms wide open and with acceptance and love. I wish I could read this book all over again for the first time, but I know I will reread it in the future and be just as delighted, moved, and warmed by it.

If you are a blogger, do you ever go back and read old posts? The one I linked to above, about my 2018 discovery of all my own correspondence, was very fun to read. I do like looking back to see what my life was like back then, as I am at the point where I can barely remember what happened last week, let alone in years past. Maybe we are all Sybil from The Correspondent, in that respect. I mean, hopefully not in terms of all the tragedy, but the spirit is there. And speaking of spirit, just a reminder that I have an Ask Me Anything form, if you have any questions or topics you would like to see explored. And on that note, I hope you are all having a lovely December so far. xo