Category Archives: Luckiness

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Memories of My Yoga Students Edition

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For the past few weeks, I have been doing a careful line read of my upcoming novel Inhale Exhale for final submission. It’s a book about a middle-aged yoga teacher who is looking for love, and while reviewing it, this middle-aged former yoga teacher has been reflecting a lot on the hundreds of students I have taught over the years. All of them meant something to me; some of them meant a LOT to me and have impacted me to this day. This month’s Favourite Things is an homage to them.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Memories of My Yoga Students Edition

Boney M(acPherson)

Every winter – starting in October, because it was Calgary – I would caution my senior ladies about slipping on icy sidewalks. The best way to recover from a fall is to not fall in the first place, I would say as we worked on balance and core strength. But sometimes that is not enough; one of the ladies told me about a friend who fell and broke her hip, but it wasn’t the fall that broke it – her hip spontaneously broke, causing her to fall.

I’ve been concerned about my own bone density for years, and I work hard at improving it through strength training and lots of calcium and Vitamin D. I became curious about the weighted vests I had been seeing all over the internet, and decided to get one of my very own.

I feel RIDICULOUS in it, like I am Sipowicz about to bust into a sketchy-looking apartment without a warrant. With my waist leash, fire hydrant-shaped poop bag carrier, cross-body bag, and workout clothes, I look deranged. But hopefully deranged with strong bones!

I really like the functionality, if not the looks; it has little sandbag-weights that can be added or subtracted, and with all of them the vest is 18 pounds. Is it working? Who knows! I don’t have a home bone density testing machine. But I feel like it can’t hurt.

Entering My Elastic Waistband Era

My senior ladies, such a lovely, fun bunch, also talked a lot about the joy of elastic waistbands, and they were right. Last month I bought a pair of Lululemon Dance Studio Crops, and whoa nelly. They might just be the most comfortable pants ever.

I mean, they LOOK comfortable. It’s not like these are sexy structured pants that surprise everyone by being comfortable. But I am embracing this New Pants Era of mine. In fact, I bought a second pair in black!

Judy, My Guiding Star

I have talked before about Judy, the octogenarian who embodies everything I wanted in life, and everything I wanted to BE in life. I adore her. Once, she visited her sister in Nashville, and brought me back this little set of bracelets, because they reminded her of me. They go perfectly with my new pants!

It’s All About The Literary Merch

I taught Yoga for Stroke Survivors for a few years, and one of my students was the personification of one of those before/ after yoga memes.

I mean, I don’t blame him. This man suffered a debilitating stroke in his forties; he went from being someone with a successful and lucrative career who enjoyed international travel and home improvement projects to having difficulties with things like walking and, um, filtering his language. He was angry. Every Thursday afternoon he would come blustering in to the studio, speaking VERY loudly about those fucking morons at the City, they can’t even get the buses to run on time, and no one cares about the fucking ICE on the sidewalks, he slipped and fell, what the FUCK, and by the way, his goddamn neighbour won’t even shovel HER sidewalks, and she can’t hire anyone because she’s POOR and it’s not HIS fault she’s poor, why should he have to deal with HER problem. It wasn’t something you’d expect in a yoga studio, let’s put it that way. But after yoga? After yoga he was an absolute doll. He would be laughing and joking and speaking kindly to everyone. Really, it made the job very satisfying, if a bit trying at times.

One day he came in with a shirt that read Nolite te bastardes carborundorum, and I asked him about it. Don’t let the bastards get you down! he said to me, and two things popped into my head; first, that saying must have been extremely resonant for him, as he felt pummeled down by the bastards – his stroke, the city, his neighbour, literally everyone in his way – every day. But also it seemed very familiar to me in some way, like I had seen it before but couldn’t place it, and it wasn’t until 2020, when I reread The Handmaid’s Tale in preparation for The Testaments, that I remembered.

A few months ago I saw this tee at Redbubble – I credit the popularity of the TV series which I have not watched and I WILL not, do not come at me – and I thought YES. I thought of my student but I also thought of the political situation we are living through now, particularly in Elbows Up Canada, and I thought I must have this.

On another literary note, I have been meaning to talk about my Most Ardently tee, which I love.

It goes great with the mug my son gave me for my birthday:

I have heard Austen novels criticized as being nothing but fluff, just stories of women seeking husbands, but I think that is an extremely ignorant and narrow view. Her novels are about so much more than that! Yes, there is a lot of marriage talk, but what could be more economically powerful for women throughout time? Women had literally no power at all, no choices, no money, no ability to hold property. Poor Mrs Bennett is universally thought to be a ridiculous figure, but let’s just think about this for a moment: if her husband predeceased her, she’d be homeless. She had five daughters and not one of them would be able to live in their home once their father died. The only thing that could be done is to have at least one of them marry in a financially advantageous way. LITERALLY THERE WAS NOTHING ELSE, NETHERFIELD PARK IS LET AT LAST. The whole inciting incident of Sense and Sensibility is that the women WERE homeless after the death of Mr Dashwood! They had to rely on the kindness of a distant relative who let them live in a cottage at a reduced rent because they couldn’t even take the dishes from their house that they had lived in for twenty years. So DO NOT TELL ME that marriage wasn’t an important economic decision for women, because it WAS. Do NOT disparage Miss Jane Austen, because I will not have it! NOT ON MY WATCH. Also, she is the wittiest writer that ever lived. I will hear no arguments! I will also enjoy my Jane Austen merch!

Woo, I got a little worked up, I have to take a breath here. Let me calm down by looking at this face:

Heads Have Rolled For Less

On the topic of women and economic power and “things that seem fluffy but are far from it,” I am obsessed – obsessed! – with The Gilded Age. It’s by the creator of Downton Abbey, of which I have watched every episode and every (not great) movie, and you can really tell the similarities between the two series. There’s even an American heiress marrying a cash-poor English Duke – shades of Cora! The Gilded Age has it all: high drama, secrets, betrayal, upstairs/ downstairs people, making money, losing wealth, living the American Dream, fabulous older ladies with complicated storylines. It’s all about society and power and oh my god, the costumes. The costumes are SO good, there are so many wild hats, and we are now done Season Three and I’m a bit bereft. I hope this show runs for another ten seasons. IT IS AMAZING, I love it, the writing is SO sharp and tight, and did I mention the costumes?

The stories are still pretty relevant today, honestly.

I love how Julian Fellowes really creates characters for older women with a lot of depth, romance, and wisdom.

Outfit of the Month

First, I would like to stave off any criticism about my clotheshorse ways by giving you an old/ new outfit:

YES THOSE ARE THE NEW BLACK COMFORTABLE PANTS. They are just as comfy as the beige ones, but the lady working at the library told me I “always look so elegant and pulled together” while I was wearing them, so score one for elastic waistbands. Speaking of comfortable, those sandals are Skechers circa 2022, and I don’t know how old the top is, but I bought it at Jacob, which went defunct in 2015.

Isn’t it cute, with the little ruffles? Proof that I’m not just wildly shopping, I like to hold onto pieces for years and years.

Ah, I have such lovely memories of all my students, from the enthusiastic Ashtangis to the devoted Hatha practitioners, from the Seniors and the Stroke Survivors to the chilled-out Restorative students, from the Strength and Tone ladies to the Thursday Morning Foundation class, every single student was special to me and I learned so much from all of them. Happy almost-long-weekend, friends. I hope it’s wonderful. xo

Together Again

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The Boys Are Back In Town

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

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

Salad Days

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

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

Zen and the Art of Gardening and Piano Playing

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

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

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

Freshen Your Drink, Governor?

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

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

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

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

I’m Your Biggest Fan, This Is Stan

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

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

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

NO I CANNOT CHILL.

And speaking of books…

Weekly Reading

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

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

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

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

Alone Again, Naturally

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Time, Unspooling

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

I Am Like A Dog

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

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

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

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

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

The Colour of Gratitude

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

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

STOP! BIRCHIE TIME!

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

Weekly Reading

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

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

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

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

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Bye-Bye, July Edition

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First of all, thank you SO much for all your kind words with regards to my upcoming novel! I am so excited to share it and never fear, I will be updating everyone, all the time, with regards to all the details once I know them. It was truly fun to write and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

I am just squeezing in under the wire, in terms of Favourite Things. IT’S THE END OF JULY, FRIENDS! I love summer and I have some fun things to talk about this month. Here we go!

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Bye-Bye, July Edition

We Can Do Hard Things, Although Sometimes They Are Not Hard At All

It all started when I casually mentioned that I wanted to get a headscarf for an upcoming trip. My friend Sandi (HI SANDI), who is always thinking of fun things to do, found a silk scarf painting workshop at a local winery. Of course I was in, but I had my doubts as to the final product, my skills in the artistic realm being, shall we say, limited. At the very least, I thought, it will be a fun afternoon with my friend, and so I practiced non-attachment while looking at the variety of colours and designs to choose from. I chose some blues and a heart pattern, all the while thinking that there was no way that my scarf would look anything at all like the example.

No one was more amazed and surprised than I was about the magic that is painting silk scarves. The teacher set us up with a long, shallow trough filled with agar, and showed us how to add the colours and make the patterns. It was so easy even I could do it, and that is saying something.

Once the pattern was ready, the teacher helped us lower a white scarf into the trough, and like magic, the colours transferred to it.

Isn’t that incredible? I’m so thrilled with the results and, frankly, impressed with myself.

It’s going to be perfect for my trip!

Sweaty, But Not Feral

I am not sure who, exactly, is here for perspiration content, but here we are. What better month to discuss it than July? I have talked at length at what a sweaty gal I am whilst working out; whatever sweatiness level you are thinking, quadruple it. After a workout I could literally wring out a puddle of sweat from my clothes; they make a wet thud when they hit the laundry basket, and if I was a person who weighed myself, I would not be surprised to see a significant loss of water weight each morning. Because I am sweaty from my scalp to my ankles, I see absolutely no reason to wear an antiperspirant for exercise, in fact, it seems wrong to me to stifle my underarms. Be free, little sweat glands! Do what nature intended! However, lest you conflate “sweat” with “stink,” let me rush to assure you that I do want to smell good whilst working out, and so I use Routine De-Odorcream.

I’ve talked about Routine before at length, I was into natural deodorant before natural deodorant was cool. I used to buy it in the playground from the founder, Neige, when our kids were in a grade one/two split class together, before she hit it big and had massive success with her products. I love supporting women entrepreneurs, especially when the product is a remarkable one. Routine is a natural deodorant, yes, and I am aware those words probably conjure up a feral hippie image, but it truly works. Listen, if I can smell good while being actually soaked with sweat, you know it’s a good product.

I use Routine every morning before exercise, and I love it, but it has a tendency to show up on clothing, which I don’t love. After my shower I use this new Dove product, which is also a deodorant, rather than an antiperspirant. It is magically invisible and the scent is lovely.

I mean, I’m not giving boardroom presentations or teaching yoga classes, so although I’m a sweaty mess earlier in the day, post-shower I am not. By now I’m sure I’ve given more than enough information about the state of my underarms, so let’s move on.

Living La Dolce Vita, Via Sparkling Drinks

When we were in Italy last fall, my husband and I decided that, after years of work and child rearing and being ships passing in the night, we would set aside a time each week for Cocktail Hour, which is a screen-free, book-free, television-free time for us to reconnect. And to drink cocktails.

Also in Italy, I fell madly in love not only with my husband (again), but also with Aperol spritzes. I could not believe that I went through my entire life without this delicious, refreshing drink in it. I am making up for lost time now, as we regularly have them for Cocktail Hour, on a warm summer day.

And lest you think that it’s all why don’t we get drunk and screw around here, I am also enjoying San Pellegrino sparkling water as a little treat now and then.

Recently Bijoux (HI BIJOUX) mentioned that when her kids were young she would have a mid-day treat of General Foods International Coffee while watching General Hospital, and I cannot stop thinking about it. Such a lovely ritual! We all need a mid-day treat, don’t you think? I decided I wanted to do something similar, and so a few times a week, in the middle of the afternoon, I take a break to read a book, with a flavoured sparkling water in a pretty glass. One might argue that my entire day is a treat, and it kind of is, but it feels really special to have a very intentional pleasure, a book and a pretty drink, mid-day.

Bye Bye Miss Strawberry Pie

Do you want a no-bake dessert recipe that will refresh and delight you? Of course you do! This is my latest iteration of our family favourite, frozen strawberry daiquiri pie. Make a graham cracker crust with about 1 1/4 cups of graham cracker crumbs and 1/4 to 1/3 cup of melted coconut oil (or butter!). Stick that in the freezer, and while it’s setting put 3 cups of thawed frozen strawberries, the cream from a can of coconut milk (chill it for a few hours to separate the cream from the watery liquid), a couple squeezes of lime juice, and maybe 1/3 cup of honey into a food processor and blend until smooth. Add a little more honey if you like it sweeter, and then pour that into the crust, freeze, and voila! Dessert!

I often serve this with homemade Magic Shell, which is created by heating together 1/2 cup chopped chocolate and 1/3 cup coconut oil. I usually squeeze a bit of honey and glug in some vanilla as well. It hardens – magically, like a shell – once it hits the frozen strawberry pie. A perfect dessert and you don’t need to turn on the oven!

Nicole-Coded Merch

I really try to reel in excessive consumption by not buying things I don’t need, but then sometimes I see something and I realize that yes, I do need that thing in my life.

Did I need a coin purse that says Fuck The Patriarchy? Technically no, who needs a coin purse these days? But it’s the perfect size to hold a few lipsticks. Is it weird I have lipsticks in Fuck The Patriarchy merchandise? I LIKE LIPSTICKS AND I CONTAIN MULTITUDES. Anyone having an issue with that can read this shirt:

I saw this on Redbubble and I could not resist. It goes nicely with one of my favourite mugs, and it’s how I feel often these days, particularly when reading the news.

Outfit of the Month

This is my summer uniform: a Lululemon skort and a tank top, generally black. I am of the mindset that when you find something that works, stick with it. I have a number of black tank tops and a number of skorts in a variety of colours and patterns. I very much dislike how I look in shorts and I very much like how I look in skirts, but I don’t want to expose my panties or nether regions to the world, so a skort is where it’s at for me.

I have been enjoying my Alone Time this week – “When the cat’s away, the mouse will play,” I thought as I ate my fourth dinner of Greek salad in a row and turned on another British period drama – but I am over-the-top excited to welcome a houseguest TOMORROW. Some of you may know her, and all who know her love her…it’s Birchie! Updates to come but suffice it to say her visit is definitely going to be one of my Favourite Things. Did you have a beautiful July? Tell me everything. xo

Thank You For Being A Friend: Nourishing Relationships

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Yesterday I went to the first baby shower I’ve been to in well over a decade. I have known the father-to-be since he was a young teen, and in my mind he’s still that age, even though intellectually I know that a) he is older than my own sons, who are grown adults, and b) he is married, employed, a university graduate, and, as mentioned, a father-to-be. Time makes you bolder, even children get older, I’m getting older too…

The grandma-to-be, Sammi, is a very, very dear friend of mine (HI SAMMI) and I feel like the arrival of this baby is the start of a new era. Our first grandbaby! It’s the same way I felt when my friend Tara (HI TARA) had her first baby, back in 2003: communally, she was OUR first baby. It’s a beautiful feeling, seeing these chosen sisters of mine have babies who I have always loved, and now those babies are starting to have babies of their own. And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.

It’s been studied extensively, but I think it’s also kind of obvious, that having healthy and loving relationships has a statistically significant, positive effect on our health and our ability to live long, happy, healthy lives. It is so important to surround ourselves with good people who nourish and nurture us. I place enormous importance on my relationships not only with my husband and kids, but with my incredible friends who I consider my chosen family. We are family, I got all my sisters with me.

Have you ever been ghosted? I have, and fairly recently. I will say that it was more surprising than hurtful, and for a while I was in denial that it had happened. I cannot be in denial anymore; it has been over nine months and I have received nary an answer to my texts, no 50th birthday message, and not even a lousy social media like. Not even a Facebook thumbs-up. It’s quite odd and bewildering. When I lived in Calgary, I saw this person at least weekly, and we talked or texted almost every day. I felt that I was a Person of Value and Importance in her life, but it seems that I was only a Person of Value and Importance by convenience, or situationally.

The truth is that I don’t really begrudge it, this ghosting. I strongly believe that we all need to have positive, non-toxic relationships in our lives; sometimes people change over time, and so do their friendship needs. Perhaps on moving away I could no longer be the friend I was – one who was valued for physical proximity – and so that ultimately changed our friendship in a way that became unhealthy, or maybe even toxic to my former friend. I don’t think of myself as a toxic person, but there are two sides to every story, and maybe her story is something different.

From Donna Ashworth’s Wild Hope

I have long believed in the adage that people come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime, and to that I would like to add the message from this poem by Donna Ashworth. Everyone brings a joy, a love, or a lesson, which sometimes means that people teach you what you don’t want to be, what you don’t want in life, what you don’t want to do. We can, and should, take the lessons offered from those people, but we don’t need to have those people in our lives or, if they are unavoidably in our lives, we need to set boundaries around them.

Do you ever think how incredible it is, this world of ours, where our lives are shaped by the people we encounter? I’m not talking about the people whose lessons are toxic ones, but the people who perform small kindnesses, who show us things that they love, who do something that affects us so much that our lives will never be the same? Sometimes these people have no idea the effect they have had on us. For example, I’m sure my grade six friend Kristi has no idea that having dinner at her house sparked a lifelong love of Caesar salad, a thing I didn’t even know existed before that evening. I’m positive my husband’s friend’s ex-wife Christine has no clue that she introduced me to the wonder that is guacamole. So many people have taught me what I want to be merely by being in their presence. A yoga friend, Sarah, once said clearly and firmly, I don’t want to talk about people behind their backs when a group conversation got gossipy, teaching me something about principles and gracefully standing up for them. A young yoga acquaintance, Laura, related that she had allowed an elderly, confused lady to hold her baby in Starbucks, letting her believe that her baby was that woman’s grandchild, until the woman’s helper led her away. What a lesson in compassion and generosity.

Catherine Newman has never met me, but her writing saved me in the early days of motherhood and inspired me to start this very blog, which has led me to this whole beautiful community. Our lives are a mosaic of the influences of others, and it’s up to us to choose which colours we let shine through. We can choose to surround ourselves with people who nourish us in every possible way, and I’m glad you’re all here, nourishing me, whether or not you know it.

Weekly Reading

Probably Nothing. This was a cute book about a woman who is about to ghost the guy that she’s been casually sleeping with…only to find out that he has suddenly died of a wasp sting. His eccentric family is under the impression that they were in a Very Serious Relationship, and immediately takes her in. As she becomes enmeshed in their vibrant craziness, antics ensue! A quick and easy read, with a nice message about chosen family, thematically enough.

33 Place Brugman. This is what I would call a Very Informative Novel, in that it details the lives of people living in an apartment building in Brussels in 1939. Belgium was occupied by the Nazis from 1940-44, and this book shows the everyday business of people who are living this reality, as well as the Jewish people in the apartment who fled prior to the occupation. Nothing is quite as it seems, and the book shows how people can change and adapt to a violent and hungry daily regime. This is not an easy read; there are multiple characters – fortunately there is a cast of characters in the front of the book – and the reader must pay attention constantly or miss a crucial detail. Even with constant vigilance, I felt like I was missing details, only to find out that the events in question were being alluded to and would be fleshed out later in the book, which made the story a bit confusing and tricky to follow. Neither did I find this to be a particularly enjoyable read, from the subject matter to the very convoluted and time-jumping writing style. However, it was a good book to read in that there was a lot that, sadly and alarmingly, resonates in today’s world: people being rounded up, people disappearing, and anti-Semitism.

Today marks three years since we lost Barkley, which is a sad anniversary to be sure. I was so traumatized by his decline and death that I refused to consider the possibility of having another dog in our home. All I will say is that sometimes – most of the time – the universe sends you what you need.

I hope you have enjoyed my Nourishment Series! Next week I’ll be back to regular programming, in case anyone wants to hear about my adventures in Costco, gardening, and all the other exciting things that make up my days. Have a good week, friends, and remember that the universe will send you what you need. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Nourishing Edition

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How has June been treating you, friends? I hope you have all been enjoying my Nourishment series; I have certainly enjoyed putting it together. There will be a final post on Monday to wrap it up, and in the meantime, I want to tell you about my Favourite Things this month. They are all things that are nourishing for my physical and mental states, if we use the term fairly loosely. You know me, I like a theme.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Nourishing Edition

Strawberry Fields Forever

This is the second year for our strawberry plants, and they have been prolific! Almost every day I have a harvest of these sweet sweet berries. We have to net the plants to keep the birds from feasting, and when I’m crouched down underneath the netting, picking them, I’m reminded of Mrs Elton at the berrying party in Emma.

And check out this very funky specimen:

It was delicious, although I do feel like I snacked on Patrick from Spongebob.

The raspberries have also been showing up and showing out; we have several different varieties, so hopefully we will have berries from June to September.

Did you hear that? It’s ominous music playing.

AND SO IT BEGINS. Zucchini season is now, alarmingly, in full swing. I have already harvested eight zucchini, including an absolute monster that quadrupled in size from last Wednesday, before our road trip, to the following Monday. My husband and son are giving me the side-eye, after last year’s zucapocalypse.

Postcard from the incomparable Michelle (HI MICHELLE) for scale.

Like A Good Neighbour, Amanda Is There

The emotional and psychological issues I have around my hair could keep a therapist busy for decades, and probably buy the aforementioned therapist a vacation home on Maui, but such issues are not available for public consumption. I will merely say that fifteen years ago or so, my hair stylist put down her comb and scissors in exasperation, and said to me Nicole, will you STOP saying that. There is nothing WRONG with your hair. It’s just REGULAR hair. Stop telling me how weird and terrible it is. IT IS JUST NORMAL HAIR.

So. I have issues around my hair. I dislike having my hair cut not because I’m Samson or Rapunzel or anything, but because I fear negative commentary about it, although with few exceptions that is not something that happens. It takes me a while to build trust with a new stylist, so you can imagine the tizzy I was in when I moved here. And listen: my hair is not complicated to cut. It does not require precise styling. I know this and yet, I still feel stressed and worried whenever I go to get my hair cut.

My neighbour Amanda cuts hair out of her home, and it took me nearly a year of living a three-minute walk from her house before I got the courage to ask her to cut mine. She’s a busy mom with a full-time job, but she told me cheerfully that she cuts hair for friends and family! and I took MONTHS to contact her. Are we friends? Is this overstepping? If I ask her will she think I’m weird and presumptuous? Finally, after my husband told me to just call her already, and if she didn’t want to do it she could say no, I contacted her.

Friends, she is the sweetest woman around and she immediately set me at ease as I talked a mile a minute about my hair worries. She has been cutting my hair for almost a year now, the latest time being just a couple of weeks ago, when I had delayed getting it cut for a few months. The ends were, to say the least, not great, Bob.

Amanda told me gravely we would have to take off some length. She asked if I was okay, and then she asked again. She explained very carefully what would happen, what her plans were for future cuts, and then she proceeded to give me the best haircut of my entire life.

I might be getting over my hair issues! I love you, Amanda! (HI AMANDA, if you’re reading this)

Power Pants

I am about to relate an anecdote, but before I do, I want to note that the following occurred years ago, in 2011 or 2012, when it was considered not only appropriate but complimentary to comment on other people’s bodies, particularly when the other person’s body appeared smaller. I know, I know, we would never ever think this was okay to say these days, but I am setting the scene for you.

Picture it: it’s 2011 or 2012. I’m standing with the Circle Moms, so named because we all stood in a circle and chatted in the schoolyard when our kids sledded or built snow forts or played on the playground after school. As we were talking, a woman came up to a friend of mine in the circle, and asked her in a congratulatory, complimentary tone if she had lost weight. Nope! my friend said happily. I just bought bigger pants.

Several months ago, when I did a big purge of my ill-fitting wardrobe – mostly pants, but also a not insignificant number of little black dresses – Michelle (HI MICHELLE) congratulated me. It’s so empowering to have clothes that fit! she said, and she was right. It IS empowering! It IS a big deal to go into my closet and know I can wear all the things in it.

Here we are, in a new season – not just of life, but an actual season – and it’s really time to bust out all the crops and capris. I needed new pants. I needed bigger pants. And so I went to Mark’s, because it seems like this is where I get all my pants lately, and I bought three pair of very lightweight capris, and two denim ones. Friends, they are comfortable, I feel cute, and I AM EMPOWERED! Behold a few of my powerful pants!

It’s so simple. Putting on pants without shimmying or struggling, and just…doing them up? It’s the best. Our bodies change throughout our lives, shouldn’t our pants? Why try to squeeze into pants that are uncomfortable and most likely unflattering in their discomfort? JUST BUY BIGGER PANTS. Fitting my body should be the very least we ask for from pants, right after making me not be naked, and yet. And yet it’s revolutionary.

Stop Bugging Me

We had quite a bit of rain, which was desperately needed – I do not want to go through another August like the one in 2023! – and the rain was followed by sunshine and lovely warm temperatures. Glorious! And also? Perfect mosquito weather.

Something you may or may not know about me is that I am a person you want to invite to your parties, not just because I would talk to a chair if it looked marginally friendly, but also because I am a Mosquito Magnet. I am ABSOLUTELY IRRESISTABLE to the female mosquito population. They cannot get enough of my sexy, juicy flesh. And another neat thing to know about me is that I have the kind of allergic reaction to mosquito bites that makes people say Oh GOD, what HAPPENED to you? What on another person might be a slight annoyance is, to me, torture. Mosquito bites swell to enormous, hard, red lumps, and then turn into bruises, and that is not a look I like to embrace. Some topical ointments soothe somewhat, others give me a secondary reaction, it’s a wheel of fortune.

I want to be the type of person who just smooths on a little Skin So Soft, or spritzes on a homemade essential oil mixture, and then calls it a day, but I am not. I am just so sexy and irresistible to those rental houses for souls of the cruel, that I need The Big Guns.

Do I want to be spraying chemicals all over my body? No, I do not. But faced with the choice between that and having gigantic swollen itchy lumps all over my body, between that and praying for the sweet release of the bruising that follows, even though I look like I’ve fallen off a cruise ship, pinballing down, hitting a lot of railings on the way, well, I’ll take the Fresh Scent Deet every time. I leave it on the outside steps to spray on just before my walk, then I strut through the greenway like John Travolta with a paint can, while everyone around me is losing their minds and slapping the air and their own bodies.

Come Back With A Warrant(y)

The most-used small appliance in my kitchen is the Vitamix; it gets used by various people three to four times a day at minimum. So it really was no surprise when, several months ago, it finally gave up. It’s too much! the Vitamix would have said, were it sentient. Stop with the continuous smoothies already! The container blades seized up, started to smoke, and died.

This was an absolute crisis. The motor still worked perfectly, so we ordered a new container for it, making the huge and predictable mistake of purchasing a quick-to-arrive, much-less-expensive knock-off that was compatible with our motor. In what can only be described as You Get What You Pay For, the container worked perfectly for two weeks, and then developed a tiny leak. It still worked, but it would leave a teaspoon or so of smoothie on the motor. Over the course of a few months, that teaspoon increased to a few tablespoons, and every time I wiped up the resulting mess I could only think that this was not great, Bob.

The problem was that our model is no longer available, and so my husband called Vitamix to ask what he could purchase as a replacement, which is when we discovered that we have a seven-year warranty on all parts, expiring in August. Vitamix sent us a brand-new container, free of charge, and we are all happily consuming smoothies without having to clean up a little puddle afterwards.

Outfit of the Month

As I mentioned above, I was running low on little black dresses after The Great Closet Purge of 2024. The purge happened in November which, as my husband pointed out, was perfect timing for Black Friday. How or why Black Friday became a thing in Canada, I do not know, but I was grateful that Ricki’s – a proudly Canadian company – had such a sale. I picked up three dresses for $120, and I love them all.

I wore one a few weeks ago for a friend’s 60th birthday party, paired them with Skecher sandals, and posed with the best black-and-white accessory I have.

I hope you are all enjoying our first official week of summer! I’d love to hear about all your Favourites this month. Tell me everything. xo

Then Sings My Soul: Nourishing Through Nature

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It is not yet officially summer, and yet it is summer!

I have this very strange scarcity mindset when it comes to beautiful summer days, the cause of which I can pinpoint exactly: living 95% of my life in Calgary. Listen, when a beautiful day presents itself in Calgary, you had better drop everything and enjoy every second of that beautiful day, because you don’t know when the next one will happen. There is every likelihood that the temperatures will drop, or the wind will pick up, or there will be a violent thunderstorm that will flatten every single plant in your garden and possibly tear the shingles off your roof.

I need to get over this mindset because here, when it’s summer, it’s summer. And I love it, I am spending every moment that I can outside even while reminding myself that there is always tomorrow.

There isn’t always tomorrow for everyone, sadly. We had a perennial die and we replaced it with a clump of happy looking pink annuals, and then realized WHY that perennial died, which had nothing to do with the neighbour’s dog surreptitiously urinating on it. Or, that wasn’t the only reason. The main reason is that the small corner where the plant resided is just out of reach of our irrigation system, and so the poor thing just died of a lack of water. To ensure our little clump of flowers will not follow the same path of demise, we have been keeping my little watering can filled and close by for ease of use.

I got back from my walk the other day and went to give those happy little flowers a drink. I paused, upon seeing what I initially thought was a large piece of bark floating in the watering can. On closer inspection, this turned out to be a drowned bird.

I set down the watering can and backed away, repeating my husband’s name in a stunned manner and with increasing urgency, followed by there’s a, there’s a, there’s a over and over. I would like to be a Strong Invincible Woman in the face of a bird corpse, but alas. The fate of that little bird’s physical being was decided by my husband, and hopefully one of the many coyotes zipping around here had a little snack. Poor birdie. I hope its little soul is flying around happily, maybe inhabiting the body of a hawk or eagle, just for a different experience.

I was talking to my friend Sandi (HI SANDI) recently about insects, and whether or not they possess souls. We both agreed: why not? Why not, indeed? Everyone can agree that animals have souls: anyone who has ever had a pet in their life, or even watched a nature show on television, can see this. If we believe that, why can’t we believe that insects also have souls? Rather, I should say, ALL insects, because some, like butterflies are often considered vehicles for the soul. They are widely viewed as beautiful symbols of spirits flitting around in nature. It follows, then, if butterflies have souls, why wouldn’t all insects?

Opinions about insect souls can really say a lot about a person’s view of the world. It’s like the insect version of Denis Leary’s old bit about wanting to save the animals, but only the cute animals. One might think, okay, butterflies have souls, not spiders or earthworms, but why? Where do we arbitrarily draw the line? It makes more sense if everything does, perhaps spiders especially – have we not all read Charlotte’s Web? Those heroic arachnids spin webs to save us all from pests, and Wilbur from being eaten. Spiders have a job to do, people! Let’s give them some love!

“This sheep can go fuck itself,” I appear to be saying. Or perhaps it’s more accurate to say “I will pet this sheep but I will not enjoy it.”

I think every living thing, including plants and trees, including earthworms, yes, even including mosquitoes, have a soul. Possibly the soul of a person who lived a life of great cruelty might be destined to be housed in the body of a mosquito for centuries, who can say? None of us are The Divine, least of all me, and so I’m not here to judge. Maybe slapping that mosquito that lands on our bodies will release the soul to…another mosquito? The universe is full of mysteries.

Well. What started as a post about what I love to do to nourish my soul – working in the garden and enjoying the glory of nature – took quite a turn.

When I started to write down the things I do to nourish my soul, I was heartened to see that every single thing overlapped with the things I do to nourish my body and my brain: gardening, walking, yoga, playing music, reading. The number one thing that feeds my soul, and always has, is being outside.

The garden, of course, brings me so much joy; seeing perennial plants and tree leaves emerge in spring, the planting and then harvesting of vegetables and berries, the beauty of the flowers. Walking, whether it’s through nature-rich paths or on city sidewalks, and yoga are moving meditations for me – and regular, seated meditation is also a daily practice for me that is nourishing to my whole self. The beauty of music, the beauty of a book, the beauty of poetry – all of it is good for my soul. And as a bonus, at this time of year I can relax on my glider chair on the deck with a book and a beverage, and it feels so restorative.

While I was walking last week, a bald eagle soared right over Rex and I, and I just stood there watching him. Maybe one day my Watering Can Bird will inhabit such a glorious creature, or maybe a butterfly. Wherever it ends up, I hope it’s happy.

Weekly Reading

I had a DNF this week; it was More or Less Maddy, by Lisa Genova. I have to accept that I have not enjoyed anything she’s written besides Still Alice. I have to accept that this author is not for me. I made it through the first chapter, and then skipped around to see if there was any sign it would get better. It did not appear to. After all the Coco Mellors recently, I just could NOT deal with another book about drug use, mental health, and suicidal ideation. Moving on to what I did finish:

Heartwood. I enjoyed this very propulsive read about a woman who, after the stress of being a nurse in the pandemic, decides to hike the Appalachian Trail. She goes missing somewhere in Maine, and the search begins. It didn’t go at all like I expected it to, and I liked that! It was a great ending, and the story told from different points of view made for a compelling read. I learned that the idea of the book came from a true incident that ended sadly, which made the book even more interesting to me. Thanks to Lisa (HI LISA) for the recommendation!

Lives of Girls and Women. Yes, I had four library books sitting on my coffee table, but I needed – NEEDED – to reread the book that made me a Munro fan, 31 years ago. The heroine of this coming of age story – Del Jordan – is so resonant and relatable to me and always has been, even though I did not come of age in 1940s rural Ontario. My husband looked at the book and said how many times have you read that? I don’t know, but enough for the book to start falling apart.

The Simple Art of Killing a Woman. This book was intense. Intense and upsetting but very compelling, the story follows a young lawyer who accepts an assignment in an Amazonian border town, to escape her aggressive and potentially violent boyfriend. While there she learns about the epidemic of femicide, which is rampant in Brazil but particularly in this area. Some of it reads like a fever dream, the parts where the lawyer partakes in ritual ayahuasca use. It was a well done but very upsetting book.

Every morning I am up before the sun, and every morning I think of the Mary Oliver poem that wonders why people ask to see God’s identity papers, when seeing the sky break into morning is enough. At this time of year, the mountains across the lake are glowing pink as I roll out my yoga mat, and it is such food for the soul.

Speaking of poetry, look what I got!

My dear friend Maya (HI MAYA) has not one, not two, but THREE poems published in this very moving anthology. I highly recommend it. It is only available on Amazon at the moment, but when the choice comes to shop more ethically OR support my friend, I am going to choose the latter every time.

I am going on a long-in-distance, short-in-length road trip this week, so I will catch up with you on the flip side! I would love it if you told me what you’re doing to fill your cup and nourish your souls. xo