Category Archives: Luckiness

Girl’s Blouse and the Forward March of Time

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I was walking the dog the other day when I ran into one of the young neighbour girls. She’s the youngest of three and the last to fly the nest; she told me that she was headed to university in Ottawa at the end of the month. I cannot even begin to tell you how unexpectedly this information affected me. I teared up as I told my husband about it. I’ve know her since she was a BABY, I said tearfully, ALL of their girls are gone now. GONE. I’m pretty sure I’m projecting my feelings about fleeting time, empty nests, and the general preciousness of life on this unsuspecting 18 year old.

All of which is to say: can you even BELIEVE it’s August 9? August is my month to cling to the last vestiges of summer, such as it is, even while some of the leaves are starting to change and I’m organizing my thoughts as to what we need in terms of school supplies and pants that actually fit the boys, the boys being in that odd teenage stage where they are tall and skinny and good luck finding 29/34 jeans in any store.

August is also my month to realize that I’ve gained weight, probably due to the fact that we always take a trip to see my mother-in-law at the end of July. What can I say, booze. This happens every August, but it was a bit shocking to see that I’ve put on seven pounds since the end of June. I’m HOPING some of that was water retention, but the long and the short of it is that it’s time to cut back on the boozy coolers.

Seven pounds in a month is one thing, but I have been very active, and so it feels a bit like a slap in the face. I guess the old adage you can’t outrun a bad diet is very true, but still. You especially can’t outrun a bad liquid diet, but hey. Needs must.

We all hiked up Big White on our trip, which is over 11 kilometres and 500 metres of elevation. I was impressed with the kids’ endurance level and also happy that my hip was fine with it.

“Thoughtful Instagram pose”

This week since we’ve been back has been a strange combination of Back To Routine and Fun Activities, which is giving me an odd, time-warp kind of feeling. Yesterday my friend and I took the boys to the mountains for a short hike; apparently it was too short as they complained that it wasn’t enough of a challenge. Well, game on, boys. I guess from now on it’s all endurance all the time. The hike was pretty though.

Tuesday I went back to teaching, my husband went out of town on business, and the boys went to a sleepover birthday party. Ten years ago I would have committed any number of criminal activities in order to have an evening to myself, but now it just feels kind of dull. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed making a special dinner just for myself – Greek salad and pita on a Tuesday! – but while I was reading in complete silence I realized I miss the dull-roar noise level of our house. At any given time a) my younger son is practicing drums, b) my older son is playing Iron Man on his electric guitar with the amp up high, c) the kids are talking in their Outside Voices, d) my husband is talking in his Regular Voice, and e) my husband is listening to Bloomberg and/ or Sport Centre. It was pretty quiet with just me and Barkley. I spent my evening reading, with a “clarifying and polishing” face mask and my feet swathed in cotton socks to keep the lotion on. Hashtag: living the glamourous life.

The cut of those socks remind me so much of my grandma and her penchant for Isotoner slippers. It makes me miss her so much. I can just picture her in her kitchen, wearing light-blue Isotoner slippers, capri pants, and a flowered blouse.

Speaking of blouses, the boys and I have been re-watching all six seasons of Downton Abbey in preparation for the new movie coming in September. Although, knowing me, we will see the movie when it comes out on Netflix. Anyway, we all love Downton, probably because of the terrible soap-opera story lines and fluctuating awfulness/ brilliance of the characters. I mean, what is UP with how terrible Lord Grantham is in seasons 3-4? Won’t someone PLEASE give Lady Edith a little bit of support for once in her whole pathetic life? How many deaths can be attributed to Bates, really? What does all this have to do with blouses? Well, some of the old-timey British sayings are just too awesome to not incorporate into daily conversation. “I jolly well WILL!” “Splendid!” “Oh, crikey.” But the very best line comes from good old Murderer Bates himself, when chiding Jimmy for over-reacting about Thomas’ moves. “Why are you being such a big girl’s blouse about it?” Everyone in our house uses the term Girl’s Blouse several times a day now, as it is possibly the greatest semi-insult ever. One only needs complain about the slightest thing to be immediately named a Girl’s Blouse.

Boy: I’m a little tired today.

Any other member of the family: Stop being such a big girl’s blouse about it.

My husband: I have a lot of meetings today.

Me: Why do you have to be such a girl’s blouse?

And so on.

The city, as if to boost everyone’s self-esteem from being constantly referred to as a random article of women’s clothing, has put up signs everywhere with motivational sayings on them. “You can do it!” I’ll see as I’m driving down the freeway. “You made a difference today!” I’ll see posted as I’m coming out of the Superstore parking lot. I like the idea behind it but I’m puzzled as to where they came from. It’s like the world is conspiring to make us feel good about ourselves, which is lovely. I was unwrapping a vitamin C drop and noticed that it, also, is concerned about my self-esteem. “Don’t give up!” it told me. “March forward!” Well, crikey. I jolly well WILL march forward, thank you very much. But not too quickly; August is speeding away as it is.

Happy Friday everyone, xo.

Carpe the hell out of the diem

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Summer in Alberta: if there is a decent day, weather-wise, you had better carpe diem because you have no idea what will happen next. This is an important lesson I’ve learned in my lifetime. I took the boys up to my parents’ place on the lake because there was a single nice day – Wednesday – in the forecast this week and I wanted to get lots of outdoor activities done. And indeed, we did; we biked, paddleboarded, and boated all before three o’clock in the afternoon, when the kids collapsed for some downtime after all the forced fun, and I had margaritas on the deck with my parents. Sure enough, the storm rolled in shortly after that. Carpe diem.

The boys fake-posing for a thoughtful, instagram worthy-photo.

So much fun is exhausting.

Speaking of bikes, I was feeling very I-am-woman-hear-me-roar because prior to heading up to the lake I put the bike rack on the car all by myself. Now that I’ve written it down it doesn’t seem like much of an accomplishment but believe me, it was. I am not at all mechanically-minded so it took me some time to figure out how a ratchet worked – I kept accidentally loosening the bolts – but I did eventually figure it out. I AM WOMAN HEAR ME ROAR AND WATCH ME LIFT THIS GIANT HEAVY BIKE RACK AND ATTACH IT TO MY VEHICLE.

We returned home yesterday and I took my older son with me to get groceries at Superstore. No sooner had we pulled into the garage when an enormous hailstorm started. I’m thankful we didn’t get home ten seconds later or the van might have been damaged; as it was my gardens were pretty much flattened:

WAH. Even this morning, there is still hail on the trampoline and it is quite chilly outside. The first person to complain about any heat in this city – if, indeed, any heat shows up this summer – is going to get a serious side-eye from me.

So it has been an eventful week in the Boyhouse; last Friday my husband and I went to see Zac Brown perform, which is always a good show. We had gone three years ago and although our seats were amazing this time around, I didn’t enjoy the show QUITE as much as I did back in 2016. Still, an absolutely fantastic performance and as an added bonus, I got to dress up in my Stampede wear:

A note about that bandanna: it dates back from my working days, back in 2000 or so. I was in Houston on business and some colleagues had taken me to The Taste of Texas, a restaurant that – among other things – allows you to go to a deli-like counter to choose your own meat to be cooked, and if you broke the record for eating a certain number of ounces of meat, you got your steak for free and had your photo put up on the wall. Obviously, those benefits did not apply to me, but I did get a bandanna tied around my neck for my inaugural visit to the restaurant. I don’t remember what I ate but it was probably a salad or some other dish that would have been disappointing to all the people around me.

Zac Brown played for a solid two hours and it was nearly midnight before I got home, exhausted and with swollen, cowboy-booted feet. I didn’t make it to my usual Saturday morning spin class and so I had a plethora of energy. My husband took the boys to the gym for their usual workout, and I started to clean the kitchen. I thought I would wash all the cupboard doors, which then had a snowball effect: by the time they got home I had cleaned the fridge and scrubbed down the shelves, polished all the granite and wood furniture in the house, cleaned the oven, wiped down every appliance, scrubbed the baseboards, and washed the floors. Fueled by coffee and without spin to contain me, I headed outside and gardened for a few hours, pruning shrubs and weeding, before taking the dog for a walk. I guess when I need to get things done around the house I should skip spin class.

I still don’t know who Li’l Pump is

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Stampede week is always full of strange things; it is the nature of living in a city with a ten-day party going on. Usually there are at least a few people passed out in the green space behind our house or in the alley, which incites my personal grim game: Dead or Drunk? I usually try to note how long someone is lying there and in what position, hoping to determine from a distance which one it is. Happily it’s always been Drunk, although I once called the police as a fellow was passed out in his parked car behind our house for several hours. It was a bit too long for my comfort, but it turns out he was just sleeping one off before driving home, which is the responsible thing to do, I guess.

But this week – perhaps due to the cool weather – there have only been one or two such episodes, although the week itself has not been without incident. For example, I was walking Barkley and a fellow asked me for a light. Then, perhaps to clarify, he said a cigarette lighter? No sir, I do not. I didn’t think I fit the profile of a smoker, but my husband thought perhaps the gentleman was trying to strike up a conversation with me, nifty number that I am. Forty-something suburban mom, walking her labradoodle, wearing a t-shirt with Namaste written on. Then shortly after that I noticed a fellow riding what appeared to be a ten-speed bike locked into the most difficult gear possible, pumping his legs with serious effort on our perfectly flat street. Maybe he was getting exercise as I saw him five minutes later on the street going in the other direction. Of note: he was wearing a down jacket and a toque, and although, like I said, it has been cool, it is not THAT cool.

Speaking of labradoodles, I had dropped Barkley off at doggy day-care on Wednesday; when I came to pick him up the girl told me that there was a chocolate doodle gang that day. Apparently there were three nearly-identical brown labradoodles at the day-care. Two things: a) it definitely WAS Barkley I picked up, and b) I really enjoyed her usage of the term “gang.” That must have been the cutest, most non-threatening gang ever: immensely fuzzy gang members who are constantly pressing up against peoples’ legs in order to get extra pats and snuggles, all of them obsessed with food.

I used the doggy day-care because I had decided that the boys and I needed a day in the mountains, and what a fun day it was. We hiked up Sulphur Mountain, a 5.5 kilometer hike with 744 meters of elevation gain; Barkley is too old and arthritic to even consider such a thing. Frankly, I was concerned that I was too old and arthritic for such a thing, but it turned out great; my hip held up perfectly with no pain whatsoever. The boys impressed me with their cardio strength and enthusiasm, even if they did talk constantly about YouTubers, lame video games, and how much Li’l Pump sucks. Who’s Li’l Pump was my question; I said I was too old to know these things, to which the boys answered that I was LUCKY and they wish they were too old to hear of Li’l Pump. I still have no idea, but I do know that when we are hiking we need not worry about bears as the boys make enough noise talking constantly to keep all wildlife away.

Sulphur Mountain – for those of you who are not local – is a very popular tourist destination as there is a gondola, which makes it a strange experience for hiking. While we were hiking, we saw other hikers maybe every 10-15 minutes, it was – other than the Li’l Pump discussion – quite peaceful. Then, at the top of the mountain, there are literally hundreds of people milling around, all of whom rode the gondola up. The views are among the best in the valley, and so it’s obvious why. We rode the gondola down the mountain – I wanted to make sure I didn’t overdo it on my hip, and I also thought the boys would enjoy it – with a very nice gentleman visiting from Barrie. He couldn’t BELIEVE anyone would hike up when there was a perfectly good gondola. He was going on a helicopter tour the next day, then to Calgary, and then – bizarrely enough – to Grande Prairie. I hope he had friends to visit up there or something, as it seems like not the greatest tourist destination.

We had a quick soak in the hot springs after our hike; it was quick because the boys had imagined something like the original Cave and Basin, a natural spring in a dark cave, not thinking about the impact millions of nearly-naked tourists would have on such a place. They were disappointed that it was just a pool, but hotter, and one they couldn’t really swim in. Well, I enjoyed it anyway.

Other important things of note: my roses FINALLY started to bloom. This is very late, even by Calgary standards, so I’m enjoying every second of these beauties. Hashtag: stop and smell the roses.

Also of note: remember the passport renewal saga? I have been in low-level anxiety that the one passport would be rejected due to the printer ink, and that I’d have to go through all this bureaucracy a second time, but happily, David the government agent is still error-free. The passports arrived this week, much to my great relief and also amusement, because as I mentioned in my other post, my children look like teenage thugs. Both were in great need of a haircut at the time, and that alongside their psychotic resting faces, well. If you saw them in their photos, you would cross the street, is all I’m saying.

Speaking of haircuts, I took this out from the library and we watched it last night.

I was surprised how well it held up, considering it’s not any kind of award-winning film. Plus, it’s only about ninety minutes long which is perfect for me.

Tonight my husband and I are going to see Zac Brown at the Stampede grounds, so party on, me. Party on, everyone. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The June/ “Why Is This Week So Weird” Edition

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What is it about the last week of school? The month of June – well, and April and May – flew by, but now this last week is taking an age to get through. It doesn’t help that I feel like I’m in a constant time warp, what with today being a PD day, and tomorrow being a “pick up report cards and generally do nothing for three hours” day, and the past two weeks being half days. Who am I? Where am I? What are we doing again? These are the questions I am constantly asking myself. I have to remind myself several times a day what day it is and what is happening.

A huge highlight having half days of school is that there are no lunches to pack. My kids are semi-famous in their group of friends for having The Best Lunches; clearly they are old enough and competent enough in the kitchen to make their own lunches, but I still do it as a semi-love letter to them. On weekends and holidays they are, for the most part, completely responsible for cobbling together their own lunches, but on school days they get a lunch prepared by me, the secret ingredient being Love.

About a year ago I was at a neighbourhood barbeque and one of the dads told me his son was constantly complaining about the quality of his lunches, saying that the ones my boys eat are far superior. This dad asked me to dial things back a bit, can’t I just slap a piece of bologna between two slices of bread? Has he met me? Of course I can’t. I still have zest for lunch making as a) the boys came home for lunch for all those elementary years and so I never really had to make any, b) I only pack three lunches a week, as Fridays are half days and Tuesdays are Chicken Caesar Salad day at the cafeteria. Here’s my secret: on pita pizza night, I make extra pizzas to have cold in their lunches, one day a week I put deli turkey with ranch dressing and lettuce in tortillas, then wrap, secure with toothpicks, and slice up, and on Mondays, they get whatever leftover roasted meat happened on Sunday, plus a couple of leftover waffles. Every lunch has veggies, fruit, and something I’ve baked in it as well. I AM THE LUNCH QUEEN.

So no lunches for the last two weeks; Monday I was mixing up cookie dough when my younger son came home, alone. Usually they come home together but he cagily said that his brother was just “a few minutes behind him.” When his brother came home he mentioned that he had parked an abandoned Walmart shopping cart behind our house.

Me: What.

Son: I just parked it out back. Don’t worry, it’s not behind the garage or anything.

Me: I don’t want an abandoned CART behind our HOUSE. Why did you PUT it there?

Son: Okay, I’ll go move it.

So many questions. So much to process. In the end the story went like this: the boys and their gang found three – THREE – abandoned shopping carts in one of the back alleys that they use to cut off thirty seconds from their commute. What’s a group of teenage boys to do when they find three – THREE – abandoned shopping carts? Climb in and race, of course.

When this was relayed to me, I had to turn to the sink full of dishes, close my eyes, and employ my ujjayi breath for a few moments. My initial reaction was to completely flip out but I didn’t because a) they actually related this to me, b) there are no real inclines or declines from that alley to our house, and so chances are no one was careening out of control, and c) teenage boys, honest to god, have no brains.

I did, however, ask them to please, in future, if they encounter abandoned shopping carts, to just leave them alone. I’m sure this is not the last of it, however. When my husband got home, he wondered what kind of idiot would leave an upside down shopping cart in the green space behind our house, to which my son responded “I am that idiot!” We cultivate self-awareness in this house, let me tell you. My husband then grabbed his truck keys and the two of them returned the cart to the Walmart parking lot, a somewhat happy ending to a story that I never, ever thought would be part of my life.

So IDIOCY is not my favourite thing but I do have a number of things I love about this month, time warp and all.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The June/ “Why Is This Week So Weird” Edition

Hunter Boots

I have wanted Hunter boots for YEARS but couldn’t justify them in my mind; I had a perfectly good pair of rain boots that, up to about seven weeks ago, served my purposes. After years of service they finally cracked; Browns had a 30% off sale on tall black Hunters, and there was ONE left in my size. What’s a girl to do? I bought them and immediately the weather turned dry and sunny. You’re welcome, Calgary! But the last few weeks have seen a huge amount of rain – summer solstice was the darkest, rainiest, longest day of the year – and so I’ve been enjoying my fashionable, dry feet.

Flowers

My Siberian irises have made the best showing ever this year, and they are popping up in places far from their original domain.

All my outdoor plants are making strides, but just look at this:

One of my dear students gave me that bouquet, and I am just in love with it. Bonus: it’s not triggering anyone’s allergies in the house!

Barkley

I know, he is just constantly one of my favourite things, but will you look at this:

I mean, come on.

My husband has been doing a lot of business travelling lately, and it’s all sadness when the suitcase comes out:

Poor puppers!

All That Food Is Paying Off

I’ve been the shortest in the house for a little while now, but today my fifteen-year-old took the title of Tallest in the House. The boys have both grown 1 1/2 – 2 inches since April 2, which really explains my grocery bills. Now I’m just looking forward to their brains catching up with all that growth.

Well, June is hectic, this week is even more so, and with that fun piece of news I will close. Happy end of school, friends! xo

But did you know when it snows my eyes become large

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Several times a week – sometimes even several times a day – I peer into the mirror and notice a smudge of mascara under my eyes. It’s only after I’ve taken a tissue with makeup remover to it that I realize the exercise is futile; that the smudge in question is not mascara at all, but it reflects the actual colour of the skin under my eyes. I’m not sure how many times I will dab at my under eye circles before I realize that they are not removable, but right now the number is high and growing.

Aging is a privilege and I never forget that for a moment, and so I should probably just embrace my haggard self with joy and acceptance. I have been using Neutrogena Rapid Wrinkle Repair Eye Cream for many months now, and I will say that it is great for under eye wrinkles; I have no crows’ feet and the lines are minimal. However, despite its claim that it “brightens the under eye area” and “reduces the look of dark circles” it has done nothing in that vein. Or perhaps – and this terrifying thought just came to me – perhaps it is doing a LOT and without it I would resemble an actual zombie.

Moving on.

It’s a short week around here and in the manner of short weeks, it feels excessively long. Part of this was that my husband was out of town; the kids are so easy now that it shouldn’t really make a difference, but it does. Last night – and last week as well, due to Mr’s long working hours – I took my younger son to his drum lesson. The drum lessons themselves are held on the second floor of a seedy-ish building, and the drum teacher seems to be constantly a little bit high. “Heyyyyyy, let’s play some DRUMS” is his general greeting, and with his beard and beanie and general demeanor, he is exactly the kind of person you might peg as a drum teacher. This is not in any way a judgement; I think he’s actually great. My son has really clicked with him and meanwhile, I’m listening to a lot of beats related to “Paint it Black” and “Gimme Some Lovin’.”

Speaking of beats, for Mother’s Day the boys gave me a tambourine. They all – this includes my husband, on the bass – jam downstairs, and since my own beloved instrument – the piano – is highly not portable, as well as being not conducive for jamming, they decided I needed something to be included. I now feel like my lifelong journey to Dancing Queen status is complete.

How was your Mother’s Day? The Saturday prior was my mom’s birthday, and so we went to my parents’ for the night. I made a cake and I was very happy with how it turned out, and that I am getting used to using my decorating tips:

I was particularly pleased since I wrapped her gift from the boys, and it looked like this:

Why don’t I just give it up and go for gift bags? Why do I always feel like I am a person who can actually use wrapping paper and tape effectively? I feel like I’m missing some sort of gene here, the gift wrapping gene. My husband looked at it and burst out laughing. “Why didn’t you trim the paper more?” he asked, like someone who is unaware that every time I do that I trim too much off and then end up taping pieces on the exposed box in order to compensate. I would never dream of starting over with a new piece, because I don’t want to waste all the paper that has already been inevitably crinkled up in my sad attempt to gift wrap.

Gift bags, I must embrace them.

The past week or two has been glorious in terms of temperature; the sun has been shining and I’ve gone for walks in only a sweater, with no gloves. In fact, it has been so nice that I have actually had the windows open in the house. This is a good thing and a bad thing: I like to listen to my Spotify playlist entitled Nicole Karaoke, and, as you may infer by the name, it contains songs that I love to sing along to. Well, I love to sing along to most songs, but these are my particular favourites. The negative part comes when I find myself really belting out the tunes and then realizing that my neighbours are likely out enjoying their yards and are probably privy to my passionate version of Kiss From a Rose or Eye in the Sky. BABY! I compare you to a KISS FROM A ROSE on the grey. OOOOOHhhh. As we all know, my zest for singing far outweighs my vocal talents, so thoughts and prayers for my neighbours. The one consolation is that my octogenarian next-door neighbour is a little deaf, so she’s probably safe from I am the EYE IN THE SKY, looking at YOUUUUUUU I CAN READ YOUR MIND. 

The rain and cold – and possible snow – started today. Knowing this was coming, yesterday I took advantage of the sunshine to go to the garden centre, purchase the hardy, frost-and-snow tolerant plants I wanted to add to the garden this year, and plant. Later when I walked Barkley, I noticed half the neighbourhood frantically working in the garden, trying to make hay while the sun shone, so to speak.

The rain (and possible snow) will be great at getting those plants settled in, anyway. Plants become stressed when planted in too-hot conditions, I heard a local expert say on the radio this morning, which, well, there is no fear of that. I plan on reading a lot this weekend.

On that note, I have lately been reading books with very heavy subject matter: a devastating memoir of a man with epilepsy who was the victim of gross medical incompetence, a memoir of a woman who was physically and emotionally abused in her arranged marriage, and The Tattooist of Auschwitz. After that trio, I needed a palate cleanser, and so I read this:

It was exactly what I needed, and it might be what you need too, if you are in the mood for a light and hilarious book with a real feel-good ending. I loved it so much I went straight to the library and picked up her first novel. Between that and some David Sedaris, I plan on having a long weekend with entertaining books.

I hope you all – you Canadians, anyway – have a wonderful long weekend! May you escape the snow. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Puerto Vallarta Edition

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I just got back from my THIRD grocery trip since returning home on Friday; Friday being five days ago. Back to reality and my part-time job of teaching yoga, along with my full-time job of feeding my family. You people are pigs! I may have said to myself as I pulled out ingredients for pumpkin loaf; the banana loaf and batch of blueberry muffins that I have baked in the days since returning are both mere memories. Yesterday I read a book I picked up on impulse at the library; it is actually a self-help book about pursuing your goals and dreams. Perhaps I should have read the back cover more thoroughly. Anyway, in it is a suggestion that a person should track every minute spent doing an activity every day for a week to get an idea of how to allocate time more wisely. I should do this; I would be interested to see just how much of my week is spent in food acquisition and preparation. Not to mention putting away the groceries! Maybe I do need a fitness tracker just to see how many steps are spent in that activity.

Well, life is good no matter how you slice it, and perhaps it’s because of my full-time-feed-family job that I really appreciated our vacation last week in Puerto Vallarta. When the kids got hungry they just popped over to the poolside grill for hotdogs and hamburgers. The biggest decision we made was which restaurant to eat at in the evenings and if we wanted Cabernet or Merlot for dinner. I mean, honestly. It doesn’t get any better than that.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Puerto Vallarta Edition

The Scenery

Puerto Vallarta is a beautiful place. On a guided beach walk it was brought to my attention that Puerto Vallarta, as we know it today, did not really exist until John Huston – who lived there part-time – decided to film The Night of the Iguana, starring Richard Burton. At the time he was having a steamy affair with Elizabeth Taylor; the gorgeous locale was exposed and became a lively tourist destination. It is GORGEOUS.

That’s my older son jumping off the rock in the last photo (the other two are unknowns). This was after a very dusty Razr ride, which I will circle back to. Isn’t it beautiful? Ocean, mountains, and jungle.

Sunsets

I am generally a sunrise girl; I am always up before the sun and I do love a good sunrise. But part of the benefit of being on the Pacific Ocean was the ability to really appreciate those gorgeous ocean sunsets. I mean, look at this:

Pool Service

Because I am a spoiled princess, I absolutely love pool service. Coming home was rough; by 2:00 on Saturday I thought what the hell, why has no one brought me a margarita yet? Ah, day drinking. One must stay hydrated in that hot Mexican sun, you know! My favourite drink was a mango margarita, on the rocks, no sugar, with a spicy rim. What? I’m Sally Allbright on vacation too. I have no photo of my drink so you must be contented with this shot of the pool:

One-Strapped Bikinis

I don’t know if they are called that or not; they are likely out of style now since I bought this on massive sale at La Vie En Rose last fall. I wasn’t sure what it would be like but I can tell you it is more comfortable and supportive than any other bikini top I have owned. I also love this because it’s black, naturally, but with a little zip of embroidered colour. If you buy one, be excessive with the sunscreen and shade or you’ll end up with a weird tan line. I am always excessive with sunscreen and shade, which is why no one can tell I was actually in Mexico.

This Lululemon Bag

Every vacation I buy a beach bag and by the end of every vacation, it’s completely trashed. I guess it’s my issue, since I like to carry lots of things in it, but isn’t that what a beach bag is for? I was tired of the waste, always having to throw out a bag that became damaged beyond repair just from taking it to the beach. Last fall I bought – on huge sale – this bag from Lululemon, and even though on sale it was still three times as expensive as a beach bag, it’s durable, waterproof, wipeable, and has a little pouch to keep room key, phone, tip money, and lip balm in.

Dressing for Dinner

I feel so glamourous after spending the day by the pool or beach, covered in sunscreen, salt, and sand, to get all prettied up for dinner. I love wearing dresses and fancy sandals and red lipstick to go out for dinner. It’s a far cry from my real life, where I am wearing yoga pants and end-of-day makeup to eat my homemade stir-fry.

Zip Lining!

I have always wanted to zip line, and this trip, we did! My husband booked us into a combination Razr 4×4 tour and zip line adventure, and it was just the best day. Well, not the Razr part. My husband grew up riding dirt bikes and utility vehicles and ATV’s and so is very comfortable taking hairpin turns on dusty mountain roads. I, however, kept picturing us all plummeting off the mountain to our deaths. Well, at least we’ll all go down together, I thought at one point. But we made it, safe and sound, and let me tell you about dust!

Can you feel my terror?

But zip lining! What a blast.

I think this was the best vacation of our lives; I am already thinking about when we can return! There was live music in the evenings, with much dancing and laughing. We went with our friends which always works out so well – all eight of us get along really well. And now it’s time for me to fold the laundry and do some yard clean-up – exciting news, by the time we had returned home, all our snow has melted. Like I said to one of my senior students yesterday, who just moved here from much warmer climates to be close to her grandchildren, spring can come and go in Calgary. So I shall enjoy it while it lasts, hanging on to those beautiful Mexican memories. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Yes, There Are Good Things About February, We Just May Have To Dig A Little Deeper Edition

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You guys, this month is on track to become the coldest February since records began. SINCE RECORDS BEGAN. What is this madness? Every winter there comes a time when I intellectually know that there will be a time and a season after this, but emotionally I cannot register it. Like, it’s just going to be winter forever now, like we are in Game of Thrones and the White Walkers are going to come and kill us all or turn us into similarly zombie-like creatures.

Recently I discovered that some people have a favourite season, and that favourite season is winter, and I just cannot at all comprehend it. We are all different and life is a beautiful complex tapestry, but how is that possible? I suppose winter is different in different places, perhaps instead of months on end of spending a solid five minutes just getting enough outdoor clothing on to dart from the door to the car, it’s a soft wonderland of fluffy snow and moderately cold temperatures, that end in an actual spring. Well, we can dream, and although there is no end in sight to this frigidity, I will remind myself that I am not waiting for the trains to get through, living in danger of starvation and ruining my hands while twisting hay to burn.

Where’s my inner invincible summer?

Anyway, on to more positive things. March begins THIS COMING FRIDAY and at some point, although I cannot imagine it right now, at some point the snow will melt and my sunglasses won’t freeze to my face the way they did yesterday, when I walked the dog. February has the reputation of being a very drab month, but it has really flown by. I mean, the orthodontist mess was only two weeks ago! Poor February, it’s not its fault! It’s a good time to review some favourite things for this month.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Yes, There Are Good Things About February, We Just May Have To Dig A Little Deeper Edition

Hearts!

It seems that as soon as the Santas and reindeer disappear from the shelves, there are hearts wherever we look. I love hearts! I heart hearts! So it’s a great time to think about heart-shaped cookies and cakes, and – as of February 15 – price reduced boxes of chocolates. My husband does not give me anything like that, but he did present me with this run top:

Isn’t it cute? The photo is a bit blurry because I had just finished a run. Some of you may remember that last year, he gave me a run tank that said Bee Mine with a picture of a bee on it, which was life-affirming in every way.

Chocolate

Speaking of chocolate, I still had half a box of After Eights left over from Christmas; I chopped them up and added them to one of our favourite desserts, chocolate mousse pie. It was A VERY GOOD IDEA. If you have some leftover chocolate, or want to use up some cut-rate Valentine’s goodies, this is a fun thing to do.

Isn’t that tea towel cute? I think I got it from Bed Bath and Beyond on a nice little Saturday.

I also made this cake on the weekend – I didn’t use leftover chocolate, but I did layer it with ganache, chocolate buttercream, and raspberry filling, and it was extremely tasty. I’ve been trying to get comfortable with my frosting tips, and although I have a long way to go, I’m slowly improving.

Another recent chocolate dessert was this dairy-free version of my mom’s eclair recipe, which she had gotten from a cookbook that she had in high school. I used coconut oil instead of butter, and whipped coconut cream, and everyone loved them.

It’s Asparagus Season Somewhere

Let’s segue from chocolate to produce, shall we? Is there anything more exciting than seeing the price of produce decline? Probably. But it is a pretty big thing in my life, given how much money I spend on fruit and vegetables every week. It is sure not spring here but it must be somewhere because asparagus is a third of the price it was in January, and just today I was able to buy four pounds of strawberries without feeling faint, particularly since four pounds of strawberries are going to last us between two to three days, if we are lucky, and by “we” I mean “me” because no one else grocery shops in this house. Roasted asparagus though! It’s a promise that spring will be…well…not right around the corner but coming someday. And it’s also on the fast track to Flavour Town.

Flavour Town

My friend (HI TARYN) and I have a running joke about Guy Fieri. Sometimes, because we are wild people, my husband will flip the channel to Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives on a Friday night. I know! Usually by the time he does this I’m either half asleep or half cranked from drinking wine on the couch, but when I see a few minutes of it, I enjoy it. Don’t get me wrong: I find the food featured on it universally disgusting. I spend a lot of time saying My god, how can anyone eat that? but that’s pretty judgmental of me since many people do, voluntarily, and with much enjoyment. However! My favourite part about the show is Guy Fieri’s reaction when he eats the house specialty. He never has a bad thing to say about anything. I really like that. I like that if he doesn’t seem to love something, he merely gives some random description about the food. Wow, there’s a big hit of garlic in this, and I can really taste the cilantro! But if he loves it, it’s a one-way ticket to Flavour Town.

Today I was teaching a class and I noticed one student’s water bottle. After class I asked if I could take a photo of it.

I didn’t ask her why she had this water bottle, I just felt it was enough that it is in existence.

The Year of the Runaways

This book, you guys. This book. Every single spare moment I had, I was reading it. I needed to know what happened, I needed to know how it was going to end, and then when it ended, I was completely bereft. I’m still thinking about it all the time. Can I go back in time and re-read it again for the first time? No. I cannot. I also can’t conceive of what to do now that it’s ended, so I am simultaneously reading Scottish History for Dummies and The Gift of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Are Supposed To Be and Embrace Who You Are. Why am I reading those two books after this amazing piece of art? They were next on my hold list. I’m learning a lot about William Wallace and Robert the Bruce, I’ll say that. Also, that I should ask for help more often.

See? Lots of great things about this month; we just had to look for them. What are your favourite things in February? xo