Category Archives: My failing sanity

Leaning Out; Nineteen Weeks In

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I am at that weird point in the summer, but also in the pandemic, where I really struggle to know what day it is. The boys and I went for a fun little hike last Monday, and when I think about it, it seems like months ago. Thank god for blogs, because I have no concept if something happened in April or last week, and I find myself looking it up and being constantly surprised.

There was a worldwide Garmin outage due to hacking, and it really begs the question: if you do a physical activity, but your watch doesn’t track it, did it really happen? If you do not have a Garmin watch or similar, you might think – as I did, people, as I did, karma on every judgement every time – that such a question is ridiculous. However, millions of users, myself included, were all completely lost. Sure, there’s a global pandemic with millions sick and dying, there are terrible social injustices happening all around the world, there is massive government corruption and countries are all facing mind-boggling national debts and unemployment, small businesses are closing up while the Walmarts and Amazons are thriving. BUT WHAT ABOUT MY RUN, WILL IT BE RECORDED.

The boys were up at my parents’ for a few days, helping my dad with a few things, and my husband and I looked at each other across the table, wondering what day it was. It’s Wednesday, I said with great authority. I thought it was Thursday the whole day, he said. We stared at each other for a minute – it WAS Wednesday, but disconcerting as who really knows, time has lost all meaning and feels like a false construct – and then went back to our salads.

The boys paddling at 15 degrees and windy; they are pretty hardened to cold weather, but melt a little in warmer temperatures. Luckily, they live here.

As a digression, when my younger son was in kindergarten I often chatted with his little friend’s grandma, who cared for her granddaughter while her parents were at work. This woman was a real inspiration to me; so energetic and vibrant, and interesting to talk to. She was the woman who really pressed me to look into getting my varicose veins removed, saying that I was so young with so many years ahead of me, it was too much to go through life with pain that could be easily remedied. Longtime readers will remember that I did get them stripped; unfortunately, according to my doctor, I am a “very unusual case” as I have since developed NEW varicose veins, and I cannot have anything done with them as, well, no more veins can really be removed from my body.

ANYWAY. If you’re interested in varicose veins, by all means, go search my archives. The grandma, however, talked to me once about how one day the kids will leave home, and I would be sitting across from my husband at the table, and it would be like, “Oh, hello.”

At the time I couldn’t picture it at all; dinners were hectic and evenings were filled with reading stories and supervising baths and cutting up fruit for snacks before collapsing, exhausted, on the couch. It’s not like the kids haven’t been away before, far from it. But it occurred to me suddenly: it won’t be long until the table-set-for-two is the rule, not the exception.

Last week I finished the book Lean Out by Tara Henley, and if you haven’t read it, I really recommend it. It really resonated with me and what I’ve been thinking about these last few weeks – this whole pandemic, really. The books centres on the physical and mental health issues that stem from our culture of overwork, overscheduling, overdoing. Don’t get me wrong; I love to be busy and productive and to get things done, but there’s a limit. It’s something I have known for years: there has to be yin where there is yang. Otherwise, your body forces you to be yin; in other words, you become sick, exhausted, depleted. If you don’t take rest, your body takes it for you, and it is much less pleasant than just sitting and reading for a while.

I am writing this as my husband has been working nonstop, every single day since June 29, evenings, weekends, holidays. He’s on a big project and there is an end in sight, but it is making me nervous in terms of health. Hoo boy. Anyway, during this whole month – and the whole pandemic – we have gone for walks every single day and I think that’s the yin that’s going to save us all. I’ve watched the lawns and gardens in the neighbourhood go from snow covered to bleak to tiny-signs-of-life to full blown flowers and grass. One garden in particular is my favourite to look at, owing to the gorgeous flowers and also their enormous collection of garden gnomes and tchotchkes. I call it the Happy Yard, with all the smiling ceramic ladybugs and what have you.

My own garden is in full swing; the roses are as late as they have ever been, and – perhaps owing to the super-early frost and snow last year – none of the old wood greened up, so I had to prune it all back. IN JULY.

But this week, the first of the roses started blooming, and it felt like a little breath of hope.

Pandemic Reading

I was out running errands when I got a text from my husband to let me know the library had called, and that one of my holds was ready for pickup. He followed up that text with this: Stop ordering books. I don’t know why he said that.

So I have a few things to read. Anyway, I AM making my way through the pile; I read two other books in addition to Lean Out this week.

This is about the woman who wrote The Velveteen Rabbit and her child prodigy daughter, Pamela. Pamela was a famous artist at a young age, and like most geniuses, suffered mental illness. Probably this was exacerbated by the pressure she was under thanks to her exploitative dickwad of a father.

This book was interesting and disturbing; it was well done but I don’t know that I’d across-the-board recommend it. If you like bizarre internet stalker-type books, and very well done and interesting twists, this is for you.

Have a beautiful week, friends. It’s the last week of July! Just a reminder for those of you who – like me – are completely messed up in terms of time. xo

We Are All On Edge

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One of the benefits of having a personal blog for twelve years (twelve years! Egads.) is that people really know where I stand on important issues. It is no secret that I have Very Strong Feelings about Returning Shopping Carts, and so when several friends pointed out the above Shopping Cart Theory, I had to smile and agree.

Then, of course, because it’s the internet, and because people are humourless and self-righteous, there was some uproar about the Shopping Cart Theory. It’s ableist! It’s not fair to judge people based on a single action!

And to this I sigh deeply. In terms of ableism, I think it is IMPLIED that if a person is physically – or mentally, I will include mentally because I know there are some women who suffer post-partum depression and damn if shopping with very young children isn’t trying enough, sometimes it’s just as much as you can do to just buckle those kids back into the car seat and drive away without having a complete breakdown – unable to return a cart, that person is exempt from the Shopping Cart Litmus Test. We who believe in this test are not monsters who believe that the world is black and white, and that people with physical disabilities are bad people because they cannot return their shopping carts, my god. I think with everything that it is implied that there are going to be some very good exceptions to the rule; a lot of places offer carry-out groceries, but some don’t, and OKAY, FINE. There are people for whom it is not physically POSSIBLE to return a shopping cart, yes, and for those people I would take that cart back myself, we after all must look after each other in our society, but I have a hard time believing all those carts scattered through the Costco parking lot are a result of physical disability. In fact, the carts that are specifically dragged up over the curb and onto the median and left there are done by people who have much more strength than I do, and I am physically fit. Have you ever TRIED to pull a cart up over a sharp curb? Doing so requires much more effort and physical strength than wheeling it back to the carrel. Plus, those medians are there for the physically disabled to use, as a safe walkway for those with walkers or wheelchairs, and so I very much doubt that the physically disabled are a) able to transport a cart in such a way, and b) would do so in order to sabotage their own well-being.

Second, in terms of judging people based on their actions, well. What else are we judged for if not our actions? I agree that some rhythm can be given for first offences, after all, we all make mistakes. I once screamed Don’t ever fucking call here again, you piece of garbage to a telemarketer who had phoned and asked for my husband several times in a two-day span, without compassionately considering that this was his job, such as it was, and that we all need to feed our families, and he was merely a cog in the giant wheel of telemarketing, not the perpetrator of the industry. So yes, perhaps we should not immediately jump to conclusions about whether or not a person is a good or bad member of our society, but still. If a person rarely or never returns a cart? Well. I think we all know what my thoughts are.

What about the argument that leaving shopping carts willy-nilly pell-mell in the parking lot supports the creation of jobs, in that there are people whose job it is to collect carts and bring them into the store, and that returning carts to the carrel would unemploy those people? That point of view is stupid and I reject it completely. Sure, there are people whose job it is to clean bathrooms and to collect garbage, but does that mean that we should all defecate on the floor and throw our garbage everywhere? NO IT DOES NOT. That would be STUPID, as well as INCONSIDERATE, GROSS, AND DISGUSTING. The people whose job it is to collect the carts can just as easily be employed by bringing the carts from the carrel to the store, and in taking your cart back, you are actually making a person’s job easier.

All of which is to say I applaud those companies that implement coin-operated carts as people obviously require financial rewards, rather than spiritual ones, at least in this lifetime. It is a depressing, yet accurate observation.

Whew. I was not even planning on talking about that today, let alone diving into Our Collective Contributions To The Societal Good, but here we are. Yesterday I was at Superstore, where, thank god, they have coin-operated shopping carts and so my faith in humanity isn’t eroded on a weekly basis, at least in terms of shopping carts, but slightly in terms of What Are We Even Doing. Despite the diatribe above, I try, oh my god do I try, I try all the time not to judge. And so when I saw a couple – perhaps in their fifties, certainly not what I would consider aged – shopping, I did try to think that maybe there was a Very Good Reason they were shopping together, despite the myriad signs requesting only one shopper per household wherever possible. Perhaps it was not possible. Perhaps something is going on that I don’t know about. This couple, despite all the many, many signs and the very regular reminder over the loudspeakers that there is one single line for checkout and to please wait for the Superstore employee to tell you what till to approach and when, marched right over to Till 7, and prepared to unload.

And may I take this opportunity to say that this is a VERY good policy in these Pandemic Times. It is efficient, and safe, and allows for sanitization and social distancing and all those other things that are currently of Utmost Importance, and I applaud Superstore for the implementation of this policy, as well as their coin-operated shopping carts.

The very lovely young woman in charge politely asked them to go back to the line – not even to the back of the line, just to the starting point – at which the man, who happened to be unmasked and standing a little too close to the lovely young woman, began speaking in a very loud and sharp manner about the injustice of it all. The lovely young woman then pointed out that he could now go to Till 4, as it had just been cleaned, at which point the man continued to grumble very loudly about this policy which he didn’t know about, how was he supposed to know, and what difference could it possibly make what till he went to, he was going to talk to management.

SIR, HAVE YOU READ THE NEWS LATELY OR PERHAPS TURNED ON YOUR RADIO?

Well. People are on edge. I smiled at the lovely young woman, when it was my turn, insomuch as one can smile while wearing a mask. I complimented her hair, which is truly beautiful, long and golden blonde and always in a thick braid. I hope that her day went well, or, at least, that she is now deadened to the stupid actions of people who do not listen to loudspeakers or read signs or follow the simplest of rules.

Smizing and the harrowing quest of obtaining food

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Yesterday as I did my early morning yoga practice, I noticed that my husband hadn’t closed one of the blinds in the living room. I watched as the sky slowly lightened, and then changed to an array of orange, red, and pink as the sun rose. It was gorgeous. It felt like a little bit of hope.

This glorious feeling lasted until I went to the grocery store.

I pride myself very much on my positive, can-do attitude, but I will tell you this: yesterday while I was at Superstore, I found myself thinking I don’t know how much longer I can do this. Intellectually, I know I will get used to it, just like I’ve gotten used to everything else. But yesterday, if it wasn’t disgusting and probably virus-ridden, I would have just curled up on the floor at Superstore and cried.

As it was, I got home from groceries and sat in the kitchen, staring into space for a long time. It was the next best thing to crying in public.

What a grim and depressing errand it has become, just obtaining food for the week. I used to really enjoy grocery shopping, and now it feels like the most soul-destroying Sisyphean task ever, because we are going to eat the food I have purchased and I am going to need to repeat this again and again. I was trying to describe it to my husband and kids, none of whom have been anywhere since mid-March, but it’s almost impossible to describe to the non-designated-shoppers of the family. It’s hard to describe the feeling of despair that pervades the store.

I was talking to my friend Shari (HI SHARI) and she said, when I said how drained I was from shopping, “Is it because everyone is silent and no one is looking at anyone?” and I think that sums things up nicely. A huge part of my grocery experience is smiling at people, chatting with people in the produce section, peeking at other people’s carts and asking them if they’d ever tried that brand of frozen pizza before, and was it good? I’ve never bought a frozen pizza, but for some reason I really like asking about them. Now we are all avoiding each other and if someone comes into my six-foot bubble, I feel panicked and anxious. I try to smile at people but I look like this:

And guys, I’m not good at Smizing.

I was in the baking aisle for coconut and raisins – off-brand flour is available, but yeast is not – and there was a young girl there with a list. She looked so upset; I guess my Smize worked, because she asked desperately if I could help her. She reached her list out to arm’s length and I peered at it. She pointed to “raisins (bulk)” and asked me, with a heavy accent, what that meant. I had to explain to her that there was no bulk anymore, but the raisins were close by. She was tearful. My mom gave me this list and I don’t know where things are and no one will talk to me.

It’s funny, because we all have this feeling of togetherness when we are not together – which is good! we should NOT be together – but in the few common areas that are left, it’s like we are all the walking dead and this is the apocalypse.

I kept thinking of all the many, many materials I have read on the world wars; every single one of them, when the wars started, assumed that it would “all be over by Christmas.” Then it would be all over by summer, and then things just stretched on and on.

Wow, I can’t even go there.

On a lighter note, I discovered that you can actually buy – this is something that is actually for sale – peeled hardboiled eggs. What an age we live in. Now do not get me wrong. This is not something I WOULD buy, as even as a child I would cry a little when eggs were served, unless they were scrambled. And hardboiled eggs in particular smell like farts to me. But if they are your thing, fumbling around peeling them could be a thing of the past!

Speaking of eggs, this weekend is Easter! I always write a list of clues – I still have last year’s, so I am going to reuse it – and then the boys go and find the treats hidden away in various places in our house. I bought a box of Easter-themed Lindors the last time I was at Costco, and I’m going to separate them into little paper bags. My mom sent me money to buy the boys the kinds of treats she usually gets them, and yesterday I did that at Superstore. We usually do a crazy egg hunt in our back yard, using these pressed-paper eggs that I usually buy at Walmart and that we decorate before-hand, but Walmart hasn’t been on my radar for my once-weekly shopping trip, so we will do without this year. Probably for the best since this is what my yard looked like on Tuesday:

And the forecast is similar for the weekend. Well, that’s Calgary for you. Send me photos of your grass, flowers, etc. I will live vicariously through you.

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I wrote this post early in the morning, and then paused to do my yoga practice. I watched the sun rise again and it occurred to me – not for the first time – that every day is a new beginning and so here we go. Happy Easter, friends, and I hope there is some chocolate in your future. There’s definitely some in mine. xo

“Sports” and Coffee Emergency; Three Weeks In

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My husband really, really enjoys watching sports. He is what I would consider a Huge Fan of the Patriots, but that doesn’t stop him from enjoying many other teams and sports. In fact, I would say that he follows every single sport on the planet. His knowledge of sports is quite uncanny; you would really want him on your team if you were playing Trivial Pursuit, because General Sports Knowledge is his thing. He knows the answer to EVERYTHING in that category, and not just the Superbowls and Stanley Cups and NBA Championships and World Series, no, he knows boxing and horse racing and car racing and tennis, he knows UFC and Olympic outcomes in all categories. It’s impressive, really. Who won the Kentucky Derby in 1982? Who won the Men’s Hockey Gold Medal in 2010? Who defeated Mike Tyson in 1996? The only thing I can compare this knowledge to is mine for calorie counts. Remember in Bridget Jones’ Diary, when asked how many calories in a banana, she responds “Small or medium?” That’s me.

Sports are the only reason we have cable TV, and so this is a sad loss for Mr. Boyhouse. He has been watching some old Patriots “Greatest Games” on the sports channel, but it’s not the same. The other day he turned the sports channel on and there was wrestling and by god, he watched it for a few minutes. WRESTLING. Old school, that-guy’s-name-is-The-Undertaker kind of wrestling. I kid you not, the other evening there was a Tetris tournament on the sports network. End Times Indeed.

With my husband working from home all day long has come the advent of All Day Business News Network. I will tell you my absolutely favourite thing about BNN is that all the experts are – of course – isolating and are filming from home. I am a nosy kind of person and so I find it very interesting what people’s homes look like. I particularly loved this guy:

Either he has a small child or he is really into stuffed elephants. Either way, I approve. Elephants are awesome.

Alarming Issue of the Week

My coffee maker has started leaking. Every afternoon when I start my dinner preparations, I fill it with water and coffee grounds, so that in the morning I can just turn it on. I do not ever – nor will I ever – use the Timer Start function, mostly because I have a fear of fire and so unplug any small appliance that has heat capacity immediately after use. I just want to turn on the coffee pot and have it make coffee. Now, however, after a solid eight years of service, the maker has started to leak so that if I fill the pot, there is approximately one less cup when I brew it.

Slight digression: if my mother-in-law still has a functional chest freezer that she got as a newlywed in 1962, why can’t I have an appliance that will last for even one fifth of that time? Is that too much to ask?

It hasn’t reached True Emergency levels yet; the coffee is still being brewed. No one is getting stabbed. Yet. But I feel that this leak is an important Warning Sign and if ignored – to quote the Phantom of the Opera – a Disaster Beyond Your Imagination Will Occur.

In other words, I am currently researching coffee makers from businesses that will deliver. I briefly looked at Amazon, but a coffee maker is not a prioritized item which, what the hell, Amazon, have you been in my house? and so it would not arrive until the beginning of May, at which point Things Could Reach Grave Levels. The Bay looks like a likely place to order; my husband suggested I could go to Canadian Tire but honestly, is it a Leave The House Emergency? I am guessing NO.

Now, I know some of you will immediately want to recommend fancy things like a French press or some kind of cold brew or espresso maker, and I love you all, but NO. When it comes to coffee, I am strictly a Quantity Over Quality kind of girl. I just want 10-12 cups of not-very-strong drip black coffee made from Kirkland brand grounds, to be consumed between 5:00 and 7:00 in the morning. I don’t want a timer. I don’t want to grind my own beans. I don’t want to savour every sip. I just want a massive amount of coffee to pour down my gullet and then I want to get on with my day.

Anyway, I will keep you posted.

Pandemic Reading This Week

After I finished the Mists of Avalon, I wanted a few quick, light reads. Mission accomplished!

Not only did Nora Ephron write my favourite movie ever made – When Harry Met Sally – but I really love all her essays. This collection, about being a woman of a certain age, is simultaneously life-affirming and hilarious. For the record, I also feel bad about my neck.

Revisiting childhood favourites can be FRAUGHT, let me tell you. I loved this book so much as a child – check out my third-grade signature – and I can see why. The descriptions of the beauty of nature alone are worth the read, and I remember desperately wishing for a hayloft to sleep in. But HOO BOY is this book dark. The backstory of how Heidi goes to live on the mountain with her grandfather is nuts. First, she is orphaned at age one as her father gets crushed to death by a beam as he is helping to build a house, and her mother subsequently dies “of grief.” Her aunt and grandmother care for her until she is five and her grandmother dies. Her aunt has the chance to go into service with a wealthy family – she was a chambermaid at “the baths” – and so takes her to her hermit grandfather who terrifies all around him. She leaves him there with the thought that hey, children’s lives are uncertain, so if something should happen…

THEN the aunt comes to collect her three years later, to take her to Frankfort to be a companion for a wealthy invalid girl. Again, if something should happen to this invalid girl, this could spell Easy Street for Heidi. Heidi is so homesick and sad in the Big Apple of Frankfort that she stops eating and wastes away to nothing. She gets sent back to the mountain. The invalid girl and her grandmother come to visit, Peter the Crazy and A Little Slow Goatherd throws her wheelchair down the mountain in a jealous fit, which turns out to be a Blessing as she re-learns how to walk. But that’s not all! The wealthy doctor from Frankfort comes to visit and is so cured of sadness – his daughter is also dead – that he agrees to make Heidi his heiress/ companion when her own grandfather eventually Meets His Maker and she is left alone. There is a very strong Christian theme throughout, and, as with all children’s books of the time, it has a lot of morals thrown in. INTENSE.

On a much lovelier note, this is a GORGEOUS book about the beauty of mathematics and inter-generational friendship.

Yesterday was a difficult one for me, and this happy, funny book helped me through.

This Week In Gentle Yoga

Speaking of seeing what people’s houses look like, check out my basement!

Pandemic Fitness

My steps and miles were slightly lower this week; yesterday was a sluggish day. But I still got my marathon in, barely!

Stay safe, my friends. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Self-Care During A Global Pandemic Edition

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Over the weekend, the situation changed hourly. By Sunday night, essentially everything was shut down: libraries, the gym, yoga studios, SCHOOL. School is – and I can’t think too much about this, I cannot think more than a day or two at a time right now – closed indefinitely. INDEFINITELY. Like I said, I can’t think too much about this. My kids are absolutely crushed; they are devastated about not seeing their friends, of course, but also worried about the academic implications. The high school is getting online learning going, and my high school student only has two core subjects this semester, both of which I personally excel at, math and English, so I will be able to help him as much as I can. He is currently reading To Kill a Mockingbird, which is one of my all-time favourites, so I am re-reading it now so we can have some good critical discussions. That, along with online math lessons, should be at least moderate to keep up with what will be needed in Grade 11, the important grade in terms of post-secondary early admissions.

The junior high, however, has stated that teachers CANNOT provide ANY school resources at this time, which, well. All of my son’s textbooks are online, so we can figure things out, and he is a very methodical worker so I’m hoping he will be able to self-learn. Of course I am here for his math and English as well – he is slated to study The Outsiders, which we have at home – but I’m unsure about the science and social studies curriculum. Well, we will get through. There will be a time after this, I keep telling myself. This isn’t forever.

The funny thing is that this week I had planned in my head to write a Favourite Things: Self Care Edition because of how busy this week always is, getting ready for spring break. It seems like an entirely different lifetime, doesn’t it? Like, normally I would be scrambling trying to fit in my bikini wax between classes, get the dog to the boarding kennel, and pack all the bags. I might even feel resentful that I am the key bag-packer in the house. OH TO HAVE THAT RESENTMENT.

Like I said, I can’t think too much about it. I can’t think about indefinite school closures, I can’t think about the escalation of cases and deaths, I can’t think about the massive economic fallout that this will have on everyone. We all have to take care of ourselves, and with that in mind…

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Self-Care During a Global Pandemic Edition

Daily Mantra

Every day I repeat to myself that there are many things out of my control, so I can only control what I can control. It’s like I’m basically repeating the Serenity Prayer to myself over and over. God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change things I can, and wisdom to know the difference. We can only control our own thoughts, our own movements, our own actions. I can’t control the schools closing indefinitely but I can help the kids with lessons every day.

Daily Yoga

Yes, the studios are all closed but I have a long and well-established practice that I can easily do at home. Even if you DON’T, now is the time to start. God, if there was any time to start a home yoga practice, it would be now. My studio is starting to offer classes online – I’ll be teaching one this week, stay tuned! – but of course there are also countless YouTube videos out there. My husband is benefiting from my I-Miss-Teaching state of mind, and I’m giving him mini at-your-desk sessions throughout the day. Roll out your mat, and breathe.

How do you like my home yoga studio? Squeezed in between the kitchen and the dining room table which is also doubling as my husband’s work-from-home station. Well, that’s the great thing about yoga, all you need is enough space to roll out your mat.

Keep Active

With the gym closed, and my treadmill running and spin classes obviously being non-existent, I am putting in extra efforts to keep active. I am lucky enough to have an elliptical trainer in my basement, and fortunately the weather is decent – so long daily walks are on the schedule. The sidewalks are still pretty icy so I’m not comfortable running outside, but I will revisit that later. In any case, daily activity is important. And so is fresh air! At least this didn’t happen in January, I think to myself. Right? Because the days are longer and the sun is stronger. Get outside, breathe the air, be active.

Nourish Your Body

Let me tell you, on Friday I was in Let’s Eat And Drink Whatever We Want My God This Is The Apocalypse mode, and that was fine for a couple days, but definitely not sustainable. For one thing, if I keep drinking a bottle of wine every night I would quickly run out of wine. For another, I don’t want to outgrow all my clothes because well, no shopping for a while. So I’m keeping up with my Eating A Rainbow meal plan, there seems to be absolutely no issue getting fresh produce right now so I’m making sure the boys are eating their usual mammoth amounts of fruits and vegetables, and, of course, I’m having my daily green smoothies.

 

Cue the choir of angels: look at that avocado. My mom gave me that cutting board for Christmas after my son destroyed one of mine crushing candy canes.

Green Smoothies

This deserves its own heading. I have said countless times before that I swear by green smoothies for health and energy. I have one every day; my favourite is this one, but if you don’t want to click the link it is a cup of almond milk, two tablespoons almond butter, a frozen banana, a whole lot of cinnamon, and like 8 cups of spinach.

Hydrate

The green smoothie is hydrating, but so is water. Whenever I say I drink 4-5 litres of water daily, the question that always arises is “Don’t you pee a lot?” I mean, I guess? I don’t really monitor how much other people pee, but I would guess I probably do pee more than normal. I have a pretty water bottle that makes me happy every time I fill it, and if you think that sound frivolous, have you met me? I’m all about frivolous. On that note:

Make Yourself Feel Pretty

If there is nowhere to go and nobody to see, it’s pretty easy to slump into a series of Pajama Days. If that’s your jam, great! But for me, that is very bad for my mental health. So, every day I shower, put on a nice outfit. I put on makeup, do my hair, and wear my jewelry. I have been having a series of great hair days lately; isn’t that always the way? Great hair days and no one to share them with. Well, I’m sharing them with you now!

For God’s Sake, Step Away From The Internet

Yes, it’s important to be informed and yes, things change on the hour. However, constantly refreshing your feed is NOT the best idea if you want to stay sane. Or maybe it is, maybe that’s how you feel in control; for me, I have to step away. I mean, unless I want to see people fighting on my facebook page about whether or not the virus can survive in a warm climate, or the usual Internet Divided which happens for literally everything – EVERYTHING – but just feels gross now, the teams divided into We Are All Going To Die versus We Are All Overblowing Everything. As usual, there is no middle ground, and so it’s really better to Stay Off The Internet. Or just check in once or twice a day. The news is not going to be good no matter how you slice it, so just check in with what you need and get on with your day.

The exception? Cute photos. Look at this guy!

I’m also reading a lot – the library is closed but luckily I have tons of books that I love and am going to re-read. My mom gave me The Testaments for Christmas, which I haven’t read yet. I am not sure I can read something of a dystopian nature right now, but soon. In the meantime I will be sharing my reading list with you.

Please note that these are things that make ME feel better. Maybe they will resonate with you, maybe they won’t. Just stay safe, stay healthy, and remember that yes, there will be a time after this. It’s not forever. xoxo

…and I scream at the top of my lungs, “What’s going on?”

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I am a person who really has to make a concerted effort to have just one or two backups of any given staple in my house, whether it be food, toiletries, or paper products. I have to work at not hoarding things, with the thought in mind that I can always buy it next time I’m here. So you can probably imagine my state of mind, and also the state of the pantry, fridges, and freezer right now.

Interestingly enough, as of yesterday my local Co-Op had toilet paper in stock, but I got the last two bags of round tortilla chips, and the chip aisle itself was pretty much decimated.

This is usually one of my most hectic weeks of the whole year, getting ready for spring break and all that comes with it. Suddenly I’m thrust into a quiet state and I hardly know what to do with myself. Our spring break trip to Mexico is, obviously, cancelled. Hence the extra avocados; if we can’t go to Mexico, I guess Mexico can come to us. Although – and I just realized this in a panicked way – I was going to stock up on vanilla on my way home at the duty free, and now I will have to buy expensive vanilla, all is ashes.

Anyway, I am very disappointed and sad, for the lack of a Mexican trip and also, disproportionately, the lack of vanilla. These are Princess Problems, of course, but I am still sad. Never mind all my groceries, I have a serious plethora of sunscreen that I stocked up on, as well as new bikinis and coverups. My son’s sailing trip has not yet been cancelled, but of course it will be, and I guess I will be donating the giant rubber boots I bought for him, because no ninth-grader is actually going to wear giant rubber boots unless he is actually on a sailboat on the west coast.

All that angst about the poinsettia fundraiser, all for naught.

I am also a person who has always washed her hands countless times per day; I open up doors in public places using the bottom of my shirt and I hand-sanitize after touching keypads or buttons. I have indoctrinated my kids to do the same; from the time they were little they knew to wash their hands after coming into the house, they would hold out their chubby little hands for a squirt of hand sanitizer in public places. So you can probably imagine my state of mind right now, not to mention the state of my hands. If you were to judge my age by my hands – as they say – I would be 102 years old.

Well. I’m trying very hard to be positive, thinking that we are all working together to mitigate the coronavirus, to “flatten the curve,” as they say, and at the very least, I will be spending a lot of time with my family. My husband’s office is closed, so he’s working from home. The schools have not yet been closed, and perhaps they won’t be, but in any event, spring break starts on Friday. I just read that the virus is not transmitted through sweat, so tomorrow I am going to go to the gym, and I’m feeling confident about my yoga classes.

Just as an aside, it’s minus twenty and snowing right now. It is a full fifty degrees warmer in Puerto Vallarta AND they have mango margaritas there.

Positive thinking, POSITIVE THINKING. I am going to get a lot of reading done, I have un-paused all of my library holds and I have a number of books at home that I was looking forward to reading on my beach chair. I will read them in my comfy chair at home! That’s almost as good. I remembered earlier in the day that today is Pi Day, and so I baked a cherry pie for the guys. I will never cease to be amazed at mathematics. Any circle in the world, any circle, take the circumference and divide by the diameter, and you get pi. ANY CIRCLE, ANY ONE AT ALL. Is that not amazing? Anyway, cherry pie. Together with that and the coconut chocolate cookies I made yesterday, we are awash in baked goods. Baked goods or not, we are luckier than 99% of people, I think.

Earlier in the week there was a lockdown at the high school, caused by a student who brought a gun to school; it was quite terrifying but ended up that the gun in question was an Airsoft one, and so everything is fine. The point is that we are all here and healthy. My beautiful friend Florence, of amazing hair fame (HI FLORENCE) said she was taking this opportunity – this forced quietness, this forced pause – to stop rushing around and just spend time with family. Given that my plans for the next week would have had me in a literal frenzy, I feel that I should take this time as a gift. It’s also an opportunity to practice loving-kindness towards ourselves and others, to remember the people who are not as fortunate as ourselves, and to eat any manner of delicious things and – as I have been doing – to drink a lot of wine. After all, I have a fairly full rack of wine, lots of gin and vodka, and if all else fails, I can figure out how to make my own mango margaritas. Although, that will require a trip to the grocery store and honestly, I do not think I have the stamina to do that again for a few days. But, sometimes, needs must.

Stay well, my friends. Wishing you lots of wine and yummy things, and, above all, health. xo

And I try, oh my god do I try, I try all the time

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…in this institution.

I’m not exactly praying for a revolution, per se, but honest to god, yesterday I took the quadruple whammy: time change, Mercury still in retrograde, the eve of the full moon, AND after somewhat of a hiatus, my Ladies’ Holidays arrived. What timing. There is nothing we can do about moon phases and planetary movement, there is little to be done about Ladies’ Holidays, and here we still are, many years after the war ended, still pretending that Daylight Savings is indeed saving daylight and energy. We all spring forward like zombies, for absolutely no reason whatsoever except that we have to do it, or we will be an hour late to everything in society.

THERE IS NOT ACTUALLY MORE TIME IN THE DAY. We do indeed have more daylight, but that is due to the revolution of the earth around the sun, not moving the clocks forward.

Anyway, I am trying, OH MY GOD DO I TRY, to not make Time Change Week a self-fulfilling prophecy, I am trying to be positive and pretend like it’s any other week, I’m trying to look on the good side – wow, it sure is light out when we are eating dinner! – but I just spelled prophecy with an F and well. Well.

It’s going to be a very hectic week, in any event. I have a meeting at the school for my younger son’s sailing trip, which leaves in three weeks. I mean, hopefully. Given that we can’t do anything about external circumstances. The point is, there is actually a parent meeting! We also had a last-minute fundraiser because – and this may or may not surprise you – the poinsettia fundraiser did NOT do as well as expected. Isn’t that strange, in the middle of a recession in Alberta, people aren’t clamouring for $40 arrangements right before Christmas. I cannot believe it either. Well, I leaned in HARD to this fundraiser as it was for Co-Op grocery and gas station gift cards; this is an actual useful fundraiser for things people might actually want. Maybe we can all use our Co-Op gift cards to stock up on toilet paper. They had it on sale this weekend.

Anyway, my lovely friends were more than generous for this fundraiser; I instantly blew past the minimum I needed to sell and ended up nearly five times that. My hope is that this fundraiser will be as wildly successful for everyone as it has been for me, and that the administration will take note and, perhaps, come to the conclusion that gift card fundraisers are the way to go, and the poinsettia one can stay in the trash where it belongs. Technically the future doesn’t matter for me, as I won’t be doing this ever again, but I like to think of myself as benevolently hoping for the next generation of sailing-trip parents.

God bless you all, for your tips about bra shopping and fitting, and sharing your similar anguish and bust-related woes. My friend Megan (HI MEGAN) sent me directions on how to measure myself for a bra, and let me tell you this: the size of my old bra was so incredibly wrong, it was startling. In fact, it was such an odd size that it qualified as a “specialty” one, which is how I ended up deciding to visit the specialty shop just across the street from the studio at which I teach. I had a class Friday at lunch, but I gathered all my mental strength and zipped over to the shop, giving myself a nice window of time before class. Or, at least, I thought it was a nice window of time.

When I related my tale to the lady at the shop, she tilted her head and said that at that store, they don’t do such pedestrian things as measure for bra size. As I looked at her, confused, she just said that I would try on bras until I found one I liked and that fit. Ooo-kay. She brought me the size I thought I was, which did not fit. Then she brought me another one, and it did not fit. Then she brought me the size of my old bras, and, unsurprisingly, that also did not fit. Twelve bras later, all different sizes and styles, none of which was even close to fitting, I found that I had ran out of time and had to get to the studio.

God, I hate wasting time. More than anything else, that makes me crazy. Well, it’s probably a good thing anyway, since the only thing I hate as much as wasting time is wasting money, and every single one of those bras were over $150. At one point – probably around Bra Eight – I would have paid all that and more just to end this hellish shopping experience and leave with something to show for my efforts. I guess on the bright side, if I’m going to wear the wrong size bra, at least I can do that with the ones I have in my lingerie drawer, at no additional expense.

I left the store with my self-esteem somewhat in tatters. I mean, who can’t get a bra that fits at a specialty bra store that specializes in hard-to-fit sizes? Me, apparently. I think I’ll try a non-specialty store in the hopes that I am not as special as I think I am.

Well, I tried. Oh my god, did I try.