Category Archives: Okanagan Life

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Zucapocalypse Edition

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

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

I’ve Been Itching To Tell You About This

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

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

Is That A Zucchini In Your Pocket Or…

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

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

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

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

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

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

Feeling Fried

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

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

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

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

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

Tea (Towel) For Two

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

I mean. What could be more appropriate?

It’s true. I do.

The Hardest Part Is…

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

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

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

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

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

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

Outfit of the Month

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

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

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

Waisting Away

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Over a year ago, I noticed something that I had literally never noticed before, and that was that every single woman over a certain age that I knew, or even encountered in a casual way, sported a thickened waist and a soft tummy. I first noticed it in one of my classes, and that was what struck me: all of these beautiful, fit, active, strong women, these women who could stand in warrior poses for extended periods, who gamely planked and held boat pose while I told them corny jokes to pass the time, they all had the same extended waistline. It did not diminish them in any way.

It is a well-known part of the perimenopausal experience, and it is a part of life, should we be so lucky to make it this far. Just like when our breasts and hips develop during puberty, so does our waistline expand as our estrogen plummets. There is a medical explanation for this, and it is that the extra padding around the midsection is our body’s way of holding on to estrogen with all its might. It is unavoidable.

Now, you might be saying no, no, it is avoidable, look at so-and-so, she is over fifty and she’s as slim as ever, to which I would respond in one of four ways: a) it’s possible that person has a relationship with a doctor’s office that I do not have, b) it’s possible that person has a relationship with food that I do not wish to have, c) it’s possible that person won the genetic lottery, but that leads to d) even with winning the genetic lottery, eating next to nothing, and having cosmetic medical intervention, that person probably still has a larger waistline than she did when she was 20, or 30, or even 45.

Here is my confession: prior to around age 48, I privately thought that I might be an exception to the rule of the middle-aged spread. I am a very active woman, I consume vast amounts of fiber, water, fruits, and vegetables, and, with the exception of my pregnancies, I have always had a fairly small waist and flat stomach. I didn’t spend much time thinking about belly fat because I did not think it was something that would affect me.

Then, a few months ago, I found myself rage-cleaning my closet. I amassed a huge pile of pants that either no longer buttoned up, or that did button up, but the waist cut into my body in such an uncomfortable way that made me worry about losing circulation to my lower body. If there is anything worse for self esteem than not being able to breathe when sitting down in jeans, I’m not sure what it is.

This month marks the four-year anniversary of the last time I weighed myself. I have no plans on breaking that streak, so I have no idea if my weight has changed over the years. It probably has. I think I am generally the same size everywhere else, except for my waist and general torso area. I used to have a moderate hourglass figure, but now it is more like a rectangle, and the week before my period it resembles an oblong balloon, of the type used to make balloon animals.

And the truth is, other than the annoyance and expense of having to buy new pants with a more forgiving waist and a curvier fit, I don’t really care. No one is more surprised than me by my indifference, believe me. But I feel like I have wasted too much time and energy in my one wild and precious life thinking in a negative way about my body and about food. I will not do that any longer, or at least, I will try not to.

Because this is what life is, isn’t it? Our bodies go through different iterations, just like our minds, our thoughts, and our interests. I’m not the same person I was at twenty, THANK GOD, and so why should I think my body should be the same?

I’m still thinking about that memoir, in which the author’s mother was so happy to have lost so much weight, the weight loss itself due to terminal illness. Something really distressing occurred to me. I realized that every woman I know who has lost a significant amount of weight either did so due to illness – physical or mental – or suffered physical or mental repercussions FROM losing a significant amount of weight. Our society’s conflation of thinness with health is flawed, to say the least. One need only point to the Minnesota Starvation Experiment as proof of the life-long mental toll that even a diet of limited duration can take.

Not to mention a lifetime of societal conditioning that positively reinforces women who take up less space, and that pressures women to become smaller and smaller. My son said to me the other day that it’s so weird that diets for men are like, the Carnivore Diet, and diets for women are like “eat 200 calories a day.” He’s not wrong. There is certainly societal pressure for men’s bodies to look a particular way, but it tends to be a pressure to be stronger, more muscular, more ripped, more more more. Whereas, for women it’s all about being less. It’s almost like society wants men to be stronger and women to be weaker. Wow, what a shocking new idea, I bet no one has ever realized that before.

Well. Be the change you want to see, I guess. There are two non-surgical options here, as far as I can see, looking over my pile of ill-fitting pants: I could futilely rage against the perimenopausal machine, restricting my diet and cutting out wine, margaritas, and cake, obsessing over calories and obliterating any comestible joy in my life, or I could lean in, put on my new pants, and marvel at the natural rhythms of the aging female body. The end result is going to be the same – this soft, rounded tummy is going NOWHERE – but to quote the Serenity Prayer, it’s all about the wisdom of knowing the difference.

Weekly Reading

Such A Bad Influence. Suspense is not usually a genre I read, but I enjoyed this book about a young influencer who mysteriously goes missing. It’s a well-plotted book with a really interesting ending, but it’s also a smart commentary on living a life online, and what happens to those children who “grew up” on the internet.

The State of Affairs. Infidelity is a topic that is quite fascinating to me, particularly how it is portrayed in fictional stories. This book, by a noted psychotherapist, delves into the definitions, causes, and results of infidelity. What is infidelity? Is it, like Bill Clinton (do not get me started on how that man ruined that poor woman’s life) thought, merely intercourse? Is it chatting with a former lover on Facebook? Is it kissing, is it a date, is it a thought, what is it? After the definitions (spoiler: there are many definitions) the book moves on to why people cheat, how they cheat, and what happens to all parties involved afterward. It’s a really well-researched, fascinating book.

It’s plum, peach, and nectarine season around here, and the farm market is full of them! I can never think of the word “plum” without saying in my head “this is a very plum…plum” in the manner of Count Almasy in The English Patient. God, I loved that movie, and wow, would I not have the patience to spend three hours watching it now. Anyway, I took some of these very plum…plums and baked them into a sunken plum cake, recipe from THE cake cookbook. One year ago the city was on fire, if you remember, and so did I ever welcome this lovely rainy weekend, not the least because it was perfect for baking. I also baked zunana muffins, which only used up a quarter of one of my giant zucchinis, and made zucchini chips. Is everything going to contain zucchini from now on? Probably.

It’s the last week of August, can you even believe it? I cannot! Enjoy your week, friends! xo

Six Wildly Random, Semi-Related Things

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Gnot Cool. I enjoy the podcast Decoder Ring, and this past week they had an episode about The History of Lawn Ornaments, and the first half of it was about garden gnomes. I am here for this content! Earlier, CCR (HI CCR) sent me this article about a group IN KELOWNA called the Gnome Restoration Society. At first I was charmed by this idea, then I read it closely and realized that the society TOOK a man’s gnomes, repainted them, and returned them. Doesn’t that feel a bit presumptuous? If I looked out my window one morning and my gnomes were gone, I would be absolutely furious, and/or depressed. Then to return them, all repainted? Keep your hands off Salvadore, Gnome Restoration Society!

What Could It Be? At least twice a day I think about an interview I heard months ago of a woman who is in an open marriage and wrote a book about it; it was one of the wildest, and kind of saddest, things I have ever heard. During the interview she spoke about her husband; she said there was one thing that she would NOT do, sexually speaking, that her husband wanted her to do, and so he enjoyed his part of the open marriage with someone who would do it. My question is, what could this possibly be? She had already talked about her enthusiasm for the following: three-ways and multiple partners at a time, pansexuality, oral, anal, BDSM, spanking, sex toys, dressing up, being tied up, tying her husband up, pornography, filming and being filmed. What else is there? The reason I think of this at least twice a day is that the product that she recommended for the listeners is a waterproof, wipeable dog blanket that is used to cover furniture to protect it from muddy paws, dog hair, and the like. She, however, does not have a dog. She uses it as her sex blanket. I mean. Okay? I guess there are a lot of fluids involved for her, maybe more than I generally think there are. Anyway, I guess I was influenced, not for a sex blanket, but for my actual dog, and not for furniture, but for my car. I found something that covers the back seat and keeps it clean because wow, Rex is pretty dirty after our walks, particularly now that he cools his paws in the creek and then walks on the dirty, sandy paths. But seriously. WHAT ELSE IS THERE?

Hitting The Floor. Listen, it’s not his fault. Rex has giant furry paws and he cannot help being so filthy. Well, it’s partly his fault, because when I’m gardening he rolls down the bank beside the garden, over and over, and that bank is not watered, so he ends up constantly covered in dead grass, which ends up all over the house. This is in addition to all the dirt and sand that gradually falls out of his paws during the day post-walking; well, I feel like I could hire someone to vacuum five times a day every day, and that might keep our floors clean. MIGHT. As it is we are all constantly grabbing the vacuum or broom in a vain attempt to keep from being ankle-deep in filth. We have a very clean and tidy, organized house with the exception of our floors. Our Roombas just are no match for this, we have to do it manually. Well, I remember when Barkley died and the floors were clean; I don’t want that trade-off, so I guess we will all just keep cleaning in the hopes that the floors wills stay clean for more than 30 minutes.

Attack of the Killer Squash. I have never grown a pumpkin before and the plant is literally taking over the garden. Every single day it’s extended its tendrils a little further, and has a few more flowers and tiny tiny pumpkins on its extensive greenery, and I know what I should do is trim it down, but I don’t want to. I want to see what happens. Also, I’m not Almanzo Wilder here, I am not going to start feeding a pumpkin milk so I can win the blue ribbon at the county fair; if I end up with dozens of tiny pumpkins, well, it will be perfect for the upcoming Decorative Gourd Season.

My zucchinis and butternut squash plants are massive as well; all of these were grown from seed and they seem to be in a battle with the pumpkin.

Monsters: A Fan’s Dilemma. It was serendipitous timing that this book came up on my library holds, because there has been a very upsetting revelation recently with regards to someone I deeply admire. If you know me at all, you can probably guess to whom I am referring, but please, I beg of you – I AM ACTUALLY BEGGING, FRIENDS – do not broach the subject with me. I do not want to discuss it, not now, and possibly not ever. But I did find this book extremely helpful for me to process my very complex, very private feelings, as it deals with separating art from artists. Can we separate the art from the artist? If we can, should we? It’s a very nuanced and thoughtful book, the thesis of which is that there is no one answer, and every individual person’s history will inform their reaction to such behaviour, which feels like an obvious conclusion, and yet it was one I appreciated. The author is a memoirist, and can’t seem to help herself – this nonfiction book took a memoir turn in the latter third. I wasn’t surprised to see that the examples of women who were “monstrous” were those who sacrificed their maternal and familial duties for their art, as she drew parallels with her own life, which, okay? In terms of the book, that seemed like a real choice, particularly since the examples of men were true examples of monstrous behaviour: rape, violence, pedophilia. Perhaps the author is making a statement on how men and women are viewed in general by society, and how judged women are for things like not paying enough attention to their children, and how venerated men are for being manly geniuses, who cares if they are violent, mean, and abusive – Picasso and Hemingway are two main examples. It is sad, of course, that Sylvia Plath neglected her children and then killed herself, but that does not seem to be even close to being on par with, say, the actions of Bill Cosby. Maybe that’s the point. Maybe that’s the whole point. Anyway, this book was well worth the read, for me, and gave me a lot of things to think about.

It’s Belle. I had one of those magical Costco trips, wherein I entered the store to complete chaos: lineups snaking down the store, aisles crammed with people waiting for samples, an inability to get from one aisle to the other without cart road rage, until I finished shopping, at which point there were no lineups at all. I sailed over to the checkout and the fellow who was boxing up my groceries said, in the most genial way, “Hi! Who’s your favourite Disney character?” It reminded me of an interview I heard recently where a woman talked about her hatred for small talk and social niceties like asking how are you? This should, in the mind of the interviewee, be abolished. It is useless, she said, and she related a story about how she used to hang up on and threaten to break up with the man she eventually married, until he stopped asking her how she was. It struck me as terribly pretentious and also, we live in a society? Asking other people about themselves, even in the most banal of ways, shows that you are not a narcissistic asshole? However, I will concede that there is only one real answer when a stranger asks how are you, whereas there are many answers to what’s your favourite Disney character, so I think this guy might be on to something. After all, he would probably see thousands of people a day. I related this to my husband later, and he wondered if it was only Disney movies, or if the entire Disney universe is included – Star Wars, Marvel, Muppets – in which case I might have to amend my initial response to include Miss Piggy.

Take a Break! Run Away With Me For The Summer. It’s time for my Summer Blog Break! Take care of yourselves, friends, and I will see you in a couple of weeks. xo

Summer Yummers

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I am absolutely, without a doubt, a Summer Girl. It is my favourite season, and I feel like last year I was cheated out of it, a bit, with the move. Everything was so busy and so stressful and so emotional – I sobbed with hopelessness in the parking lot of the library when they said I couldn’t have a card until I had an official identification proving my Kelowna address, as a small example of my mental state – that I didn’t really get to enjoy the season. So, this summer I am soaking up every second of it.

All of this is to say that when I say wow, it’s hot, it is observational, not a complaint. This Calgary girl will never get over the novelty that opening the front door is similar to opening an oven door; after all, it’s a dry heat and I have a shady deck to lounge on and an air-conditioned house to retreat to when it’s too much. As a brief aside, if you have air conditioning, what do temperature you set it on? We keep ours at 24C, which I feel is just enough to take the edge off without having constant cold air blowing. I like to be comfortable in my summer clothes inside.

I’m not sure if this is my body’s way of making sure I can enjoy my outdoor time before it gets too hot to be active, but my natural wake-up lately is in the three’s. I have long been a 4:00 riser, but for the past couple of weeks, when temperatures have been soaring into the late 30s, I have been up for the day at a time that starts with a “3.” I hope this is just a Rhythm of Nature thing, and not a harbinger of things to come, in which I am waking up earlier and earlier until I am not sleeping at all. I guess I’ll see what happens in a month, and in the meantime, it’s nice to be able to see my son before he heads out to work in the morning.

In other heat-related news, my meal preparation changes vastly in the summer; our dinners are light and easy, and I use the oven only rarely. This is despite the fact the oven is new and very well-insulated, and, as I mentioned before, we have air conditioning; between those two factors I don’t worry about the house heating up, but still, I’m all about the low-effort meals.

It’s been a little while since I shared a week of meals; I am inspired by my gorgeously talented friend Suzanne to do so (HI SUZANNE). As a note, half of the meals I made are meatless, but I did use my air fryer to prepare chicken for the guys Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday. Do you have an air fryer? It’s an appliance that is symbolic of my consumer life with my husband: he wanted to buy it, I said we didn’t need it, he bought it, and now I use it all the time. You would not believe how often this happens in my marriage. Anyway, it’s brilliant for our family because it has two baskets, one I keep pristine for the vegetables, and the other is used for meat only. I cannot tell you how much this has changed my life; I hate hate hate cooking meat, and this has made the process almost painless.

I don’t use a lot of recipes in my cooking; the kids call it “Mom’s Free-Styling Again.” I kind of throw things together until they seem good to me, like the wild thing that I am.

Monday: Asian-Inspired Noodle Salad

I’ve been making a variation of this Asian-inspired noodle salad for years; I cook the noodles and some edamame in the morning, so that it’s nice and chilled by dinnertime, and I add in any vegetables I feel like. In this case, it’s grated carrots with chopped peppers and zucchini from the garden. I added cashews and some sauteed tofu, plus garden green onions and cilantro. The dressing is made up of equal parts sesame oil, rice vinegar, and soy sauce, with a little bit less of a part of lime juice. I add a big spoonful of brown sugar and another of chili garlic sauce, plus some minced garlic and grated ginger.

Tuesday: DIY Tortilla Wraps

This is my go-to for a quick and easy meal; I slice up any vegetables that are around – avocado, pepper, tomato, and garden lettuce and green onion, and I set out hummus, salsa, and cheese, along with the aforementioned air fryer chicken breasts.

Wednesday: The Big Salad, With Lots Of Stuff In It

My most prolific garden vegetable, by far, is kale; we have been enjoying kale salads multiple times a week for two months now. I, like Elaine Benes, love a big salad, with lots of stuff in it, and this week I added candied pecans, roasted chickpeas, apple, dried blueberries, and goat cheese crumbles to the kale. I served it with a balsamic vinaigrette, and some crusty bread.

Thursday: Pesto Pasta Salad

I have SO much basil; this is but a pittance of what I still have in the garden.

I made up a nice batch of pesto and added it to cold pasta and peas. I also roasted some asparagus, broccoli, and cauliflower, as an exception to my “no oven” guideline.

Friday: My Big Fat Greek Salad

Friday is my favourite day of the week, which calls for my favourite meal of all time, the meal I could eat on repeat every day for the rest of my life: Greek salad with pita and hummus. No matter what the season, I make this meal on Fridays. I have a little tip for those of you who make your own hummus: add a little soft tofu for extra creaminess, and pulse in some (pitted) black olives. Delicious!

Saturday: The Best Thing To Come Out Of Foods Class

This pasta salad has been a summer favourite since 2018, when my younger son brought the recipe home from his junior high Foods class, a class that was a source of much angst since he and his kitchen group of four friends were extremely unpopular with his teacher. I mean, I am always on my kids’ side, but thinking about five teen boys in one group who constantly were making grievous cooking mistakes and in a state of hilarity about it, well, it’s hard to really blame the teacher. Particularly since I knew all these boys and had them in my house and yard many times over the years, I knew what the, how do I say it, vibe was like. She only likes the girls, my son explained, and I felt like I understood the entire situation. Anyway, one thing he did make without disaster was this pasta salad, and I adapted the recipe for my own preferences. I like to set out a lot of veggies, and everyone can build their own dish.

Sunday: BBQ Day

My husband usually grills something on the barbeque on Sundays; this week it was burgers. After the food-poisoning disaster of Canada Day, I found my favourite chipotle black bean burgers again at Costco, after a long hiatus. We also had sweet potato fries and a kale Caesar salad.

Sweets To The Sweet

I baked zucchini loaf with our garden zucchinis and…

It’s an ice cream cake, sort of. I made chocolate banana ice cream for the bottom layer, pulsed Oreo cookies with fudge sauce for the middle, and topped it all with Cool Whip. I used to love DQ cakes, but one such slice would give me at least as much pain as the expired veggie burgers, so I thought to try my hand at something non-dairy. It was a hit!

Weekly Reading

If last week’s theme was infidelity, this week was male authors. I very rarely read books by men, particularly heterosexual men; out of the 75 books I have read this year, 8 are by men, just to give you an idea.

Wellness. When I downloaded this book, I was stunned. How long IS this, I asked. I looked it up: the paper edition is 611 pages. SIX HUNDRED ELEVEN PAGES. That is, in the humble opinion of this gentle reader, way too many pages. And now that I have read it, my question is where was the editor? Was there an editor? This book could have been cut by a third, easily, with no effect at all on the story. Because it’s a really great story, but there is just so much descriptive backstory and whole chapters that could have been condensed to a single paragraph. SO MANY PAGES.
I did have a Mrs Lynde “Isn’t that just like a man?” moment, because doesn’t it seem like these editor-light tomes are always by men?
Anyway, once I got past my initial despair, I found the first two hundred pages to be relatively quick and easy to read, and the subject matter itself is very interesting: it’s about a marriage gone boring. What happens when the fires of anti establishment youth fade into the ashes of just regular, middle aged family life? There are so many segues and they are mostly quite interesting: the placebo effect, Facebook algorithms, how modern parenting is informed by parenting past, and complex familial relationships. All good stuff. But THIS IS TOO LONG. Again, great story, when the writing is good it’s really good, but it badly needs an editor.

Heaven and Earth’s Grocery Store. This was a good story of a Pennsylvania town in 1936; it centres around the Jewish owners of a grocery store, serving a Black community, and the way they work together to help a child who was unfairly institutionalized. There are some truly moving and heart-breaking parts, and it ends in a clever, satisfying way.

I hope you are all having a beautiful, summery week with lots of yummy things! xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The One Year Anniversary Edition

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Exactly one year ago today, I loaded up the car and drove eight hours solo, with only Rex and a queue of podcasts for company, to move from Calgary to Kelowna. The entries from my one-line-a-day journal from this time last year are kind of nuts; frantic descriptions of packing, cleaning, and purging, interspersed with lawyer meetings and nervous breakdowns. I said to myself a million times, between crying to myself singing along to The Climb and Unwritten, there will be a time after this. And there was! There was a time after that! This is the time, and it’s good.

Here we are one year after that time of pure chaos, and so I give you:

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The One Year Anniversary Edition

Better Homes and Gardens

While it’s true that I loved my cozy little bungalow in my warm and wonderful community, with the gardens that we designed and built and planted and cared for over twenty-three years, wow, do I love my new home and gardens. There’s something amazing to me about upsizing to a spacious house with clean lines and huge windows and lots of light, with a giant yard and garden and a growing season that is over twice as long as what I experienced before. Every single morning I go into my garden, and every single morning I am filled with delight and happiness.

I cannot even believe the amount of produce we’ve had so far and how gratifying I find it, harvesting vegetables and incorporating them into my meal plans. And the things I don’t grow, I can buy at the local farm market for what seems to me to be incredibly low prices.

Now, am I going to have approximately one million tomatoes and half as many zucchinis? Possibly. But I will take on the challenge of Extreme Produce Glut with gusto.

Scrub a Dub Dub

I’ve always wanted an ensuite bathroom, and now I have one, complete with the makeup table of my dreams. I love the light colours of the walls and tiles but I noticed that I was getting weird, gross orange and black stains on the floor tile grout. I mean, I’m all up for seasonal Halloween decor but not on my grout and not year-round.

You know me, I am all about the hippie cleaning products and using white vinegar and Scrub Daddies for everything, but nothing like that was removing these stains, no matter how much elbow grease was applied. I don’t like bleach and I don’t like harsh-smelling products that make my eyes water, but the stains were making me insane. Or, in-stain.

Desperate, I bought this CLR cleaner as a Hail Mary, and HOT DAMN.

I realize that this would be a much more dramatic photo if there was a “before,” but you’ll have to believe me, this is an incredible, almost total improvement on the situation.

Hair Affair

If you, like me, always squint and look with extreme interest at bathroom photos to decipher the types of products that are kept in a shower, well, squint no more! I am more than happy to talk about my new favourite hair product, Prose, and I am not even a little bit embarrassed to tell you that I heard it mentioned on a variety of podcasts many times over, and because the algorithm is always listening, those products also started showing up in my social media feed. Then I started to get codes for 50% off and I ask you, what’s a girl to do?

Now, you know I’m never going to talk about beauty products unless I’ve used them for at least a few months; I started using Prose shampoo, conditioner, and something called a pre-shampoo mask in early March and I do not think I can adequately express the metamorphosis that I have experienced.

How Prose works is that you fill out a survey about what your life is like, including things like your postal code, exercise routines, and diet, as well as what trauma you put your hair through on the daily and what your hair goals in general are. For me, I heat style and colour my hair and my main goal is to KEEP my hair. Then they send you products that are specific to your needs, including scent preferences. The labels have your name on them which is an adorable touch, I think.

I admit I was skeptical at first but not anymore. I feel like my hair has a new lease on life.

You Put The Lime In The Coconut

I try to spend as many hours a day as possible outside, and in the heat of the day, the shade of my deck is a perfect place to be. And what could be nicer on a Friday afternoon in summer than an icy cold cocktail?

Now, my friend Liv (HI LIV) told me at least a decade ago about coconut tequila, but to be honest, it fell off my radar, at least until last December when a friend made me an unseasonable, but very welcome, margarita. What made it so delicious, I asked? COCONUT TEQUILA. It was everything Liv had been trying to tell me for ten years, and more.

My coconut-lime margarita life was on hold until about a six weeks ago, when I a) found a lime margarita mix at the grocery store, and b) actually went to the liquor store in search of coconut tequila. There’s no going back now, it’s my new favourite drink for the summer.

You Put The Pine(apple) In The Coconut

But of course one cannot survive on coconut lime margaritas alone. I like a refreshing non-alcoholic beverage for regular weekdays, and Bubly came out with a pineapple coconut flavour that I am obsessed with.

Look, the can is so friendly! Hola!

Outfit of the Month

Do you have a Summer Uniform? I sure do, it’s a plain black tank top with a Lululemon skirt, the kind that has shorts attached underneath so I can go about my daily business without being worried I am going to show my panties to the world, or, more specifically, my children. No need to traumatize them.

Very occasionally I’ll swap out the black tank for a white one, but since I am a walking disaster, I will almost inevitably be ending the day with stain remover when that happens.

When it comes to clothing, I’m not a very colourful gal generally, except in the summer. I have this same skirt in a variety of colours. I’m at the point in life where if there is a piece that fits, feels good, and is cute, then I like to get multiples of that piece. The Uniform fulfils the three C’s: cool, comfortable, and cute. The sandals are Skechers slides, which are absolutely perfect for slipping on and comfortable enough to walk around in.

One whole year! Thank you to all my wonderful friends who have made the transition so smooth; my Calgary friends who wished me well, my Kelowna friends (especially Sammi, HI SAMMI) who welcomed me with open arms, and every single reader who sent love and encouragement my way. I love and adore you all. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Landscaped Edition

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I realized just as I wrote that title that I have a sugaring appointment this afternoon, but lest you get the wrong idea, what I am going to talk about today is NOT that kind of landscaping.

It’s full on summer and I am enjoying the gorgeous weather, although today is “coolish.” Of course, in Calgary this would be considered just a nice June day, but here it’s considered cool. Anyway, today I wanted to take you for a tour of my newly landscaped backyard – NOT THAT KIND OF LANDSCAPED BACKYARD, PEOPLE. We started the project in April and it finished a couple of weeks ago.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Landscaped Edition

Perennially Pretty

We had professional help for our yard; it was just too big and too overwhelming of a project for my husband and I to take on by ourselves. It’s a new climate, we have deer, and I wanted to have things blooming at all different times of the year. I am SO happy with the final result, and I look forward to seeing the flower beds fill out in the years to come, as all of these are perennials.

Can you spot Salvadore? Bonus if you can spy the other gnomes in this photo.
Gustav the gnome is hiding in the tree.
The old gas pump for farm equipment.
Before this was all rough grass; I originally wanted to xeriscape but we decided to put rock in along with the old farm equipment.
A reminder to go placidly amid the noise and haste.

Colour Me Colourful

We wanted to have some more colour, and so we added pots of annuals. You can see in the above photo we have a large one at the steps – by the most gorgeous purple clematis – and we put some on our deck as well.

Berry Happy To Just Veg Out

I have gotten so much incredible edibles out of my garden already (NOT THAT KIND OF EDIBLES), that I can hardly believe it’s only June. I have so many greens, you guys! It’s all salads all the time around here:

Plus a healthy dose of cilantro:

And basil:

And I’ve even harvested some raspberries, along with strawberries:

Also, garden spinach in smoothies is LIFE ALTERING, even more so than, say, getting sugared.

Just Thelma, No Louise

My lovely friend Sandi (HI SANDI) and I went to lunch and a movie last week, and I had to admit that the last time I saw a movie in the theatre, it was Top Gun: Maverick. Before that, it was Greta Gerwig’s Little Women in 2019. So what I’m saying is that I don’t see a lot of movies; mostly I find myself bored and distractable. But Sandi suggested we go see Thelma, which I had never heard of, but upon discovering it was about a ninety-two woman who gets scammed and then goes on a caper with her friend and his scooter to get her money back, well. I was IN. It was such a pro-aging delight, and I think the key to a good movie watching experience is to watch with a girlfriend, as opposed to, say, the members of the Boyhouse who enjoy action movies and things that are upsetting, like bombs exploding or guns firing.

On that note, I wanted to bring up something to see if anyone else can relate: I need spoilers, else I cannot get through a movie or television show. I get too stressed and anxious watching anything even remotely upsetting. Even with a feel-good movie like Thelma, which at 107 minutes is pretty much perfect, I was feeling all sweaty-palmed and worried. I have been known to google plots or to text my friend Hannah (HI HANNAH) for detailed spoilers so I know what to expect. Anyway, Thelma was absolutely wonderful and I highly recommend it, particularly as a raised fist in solidarity to combat feelings of invisibility and irrelevance that are forced on aging people, particularly women.

Me, watching a movie.

The Vulva Shaped Soapbox

Speaking of raised fists and aging women, I don’t know if I’ve ever talked about The Menopause Manifesto. I generally use the library for most books, but some books are necessary to have on the shelf at the ready, and this is one of them. I bought it in 2021 and have been using it as a reference ever since; my symptoms have vastly (VASTLY) changed in the past three years and I have never come across any book so helpful, compassionate, and evidence-based than this one. Dr. Gunter is THE last word in women’s health, and particularly in the menopause sphere, and she rails against misinformation and the so-called fixes that are sold to women desperate to find relief from their symptoms, from the merely bothersome to the downright debilitating. It’s a must read for any woman who is lucky enough to live long enough to go through this perfectly natural, but often cloaked in shame, stage of life.

Simply Irresistable

As I said, women can start to feel less attractive and more invisible as we age, but do you know who finds me even more sexy and irresistible than before? Mosquitoes. Hello summer, and my daily walks down by the creek do not go unnoticed. I have always been a person who has been hotly pursued by mosquitoes, but these days I am even more irresistible to them. It’s like I’m Princess Di, and they are the paparazzi, but with less-devastating, itchier results. Maybe it’s because you eat so much potassium, my son helpfully mentioned, and that could be true, but my whole life I have been One Sexy Bitch to those blood-thirsty insects.

Typically I put on bug spray prior to my walk, but I forgot to the other day, the exact day I was wearing a really cute yoga tank with criss-cross straps and an open back. My entire body, but particularly my back, is now covered in welts. I happen to have allergic reactions to mosquito bites, not the My Girl deadly kind of allergic reaction, but just swelling and bruising and terrible itch. I also have allergic reactions to anything that is supposed to soothe said bites, and my friend Laura (HI LAURA) told me that she is the same way. Of course she is, we are basically the same person, except she’s American. Anyway, she suggested Thayer’s Witch Hazel with Rose, and friends, IT WORKS. I had immediate relief, plus it smells lovely.

Outfit of the Month

Remember when I mentioned that my dressy sandals were just half a size too small, and my feet were swelling and falling out of them? I replaced them with these from Skechers, and I wore them to a recent birthday party ALL NIGHT. Not once did I slip off my shoes, as is my wont. Comfort and cuteness, it’s a winning combination

Here’s the full outfit: the same black Lululemon City Sleek pants that look like real pants, but feel like yoga pants, that I have talked about at length for years. The top is from long-defunct Jacob, and I don’t know exactly how long I have had it, but I do know I wore it to my 40th birthday party, and I am now 49.

June was a great month for me, and when I compare it to the nervous breakdown of LAST June, well, it looks even better. Do you have any favourite things from this month? I’d love to hear about them. I have an interesting weekend ahead of me, including a houseguest and an adventure, and I wish all my Canadian friends a lovely long weekend! And for you non-Canadians, I hope you have a wonderful regular weekend. xo

The Return of Baloo

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At about 2:30 in the morning last Thursday, I woke up with a start. I could hear a loud, strange, repetitive noise; sort of like a scraping sound. At first, in my sleepy fog, I thought one of the boys was either coughing or vomiting, and I got up to investigate. Their bathroom door was open and the room was dark and empty empty; both of their doors were firmly shut with no lights coming through the bottoms. I stood there, listening for a few minutes, but I didn’t hear anything. I chalked it up as a weird dream – I have been taking magnesium at night, and I find I sometimes get strange, vivid dreams – and went to bed.

My usual wake time is 4:00, and that day was no exception. I trundled out of bed, whispered good morning to my younger son who also gets up at that hour for work, and padded downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs is a very large window that looks out towards my mother-in-law’s house and, crucially for this story, the side lawn. There, on the side lawn, directly outside the large window, was a very large bear, tearing up a garbage bag and eating its contents.

I stood there, stunned, for just a moment before running up the stairs to grab my son who was, understandably, a little confused at my scream whispers to come here come here come here. He followed me down the stairs so we both could stare at the bear, wondering what to do.

I had to do something. As anyone who has been around wildlife knows, one cannot allow wildlife to eat garbage. Particularly one cannot allow a bear to eat garbage; bears can get easily habituated to it and to people, and that can end up with a problem bear, one who would be in danger of being “destroyed,” as they euphemistically say. But what to do?

The next day, when I related this story to Kate, the woman who does my sugaring, she immediately asked if I had heard about all the internet discourse about whether a woman, alone in the woods, is safer if she meets a man or a bear. “What my first question is,” Kate said, pausing mid-sugar as I had my knee into my chest, naked from the waist down, “Is what kind of bear are we talking about?” That was exactly my question too; the answer is very different between grizzly and black bear, and although I would never discount another woman’s lived experience or trauma, no matter how you slice it, bears are really fucking scary.

This bear, I could tell, was a black bear with brown fur. Because it wasn’t a grizzly, I took a chance on what to do. I knocked on the window. The bear looked up at me and continued to go through the garbage. I knocked a few more times, locking eyes with it in the most aggressive way I could, through a window and still kind of terrified. It got up and lumbered up through the vineyard, to go paw through the neighbouring houses’ garbage, as I found out later that morning.

The reason I bring up the type of bear is that a grizzly could charge, possibly through the window, with that kind of aggressive behaviour from me. I had to take a few deep breaths just typing that. As it was, a giant bear ten feet away from me, even through a window, was extremely unsettling.

I had to go out and clean up the garbage, because I couldn’t risk it coming back for it, but I was terrified. My son and I ascertained the coast was clear, and I ran out, where I discovered where the scraping noise had come from – the black bin we share with my mother-in-law was knocked on its side and pulled away from its usual spot. I cleaned up the garbage, trying not to heave as I picked up my mother-in-law’s kitchen waste that included a lot of slimy eggshells and various meat bones. I locked the garbage up in the shed, which we should have been doing weeks ago, after hibernation season. Better late than never, I guess.

By this time Rex was awake in his crate, and I knew he had to go out. Dogs need to go out in the morning! But I also didn’t want him to be mauled, obviously, and I sent out deep exhalations of gratitude for the large windows. Typically I let him out without a thought, and imagine if I had done that first thing in the morning? I don’t want to imagine it, actually.

I took my big flashlight and went out with him, shining the light around and checking the area frantically. Rex was also checking the area frantically, sniffing and following the scents of the bear on the lawn and into the vines. I looked up to see my mother-in-law at her kitchen window, with the light on. She waved at me and I scurried over to her house. She met me at the door, mistaking the look on my face for concern over her well-being. “I’m fine, dear,” she said, “I was just getting up to use the bathroom and I could see you out here with your flashlight.”

At that point I started incoherently saying words like “bear” and “garbage” and “ahhhhhh!” Here’s a hint for all of you living next door to your octogenarian mother-in-laws, maybe don’t barrage them with bear information at 4:30 in the morning. Maybe wait until later in the morning when you’re calmer. As it was, my frantic demeanor got her so worked up that I literally worried that she was going to have a stroke, but on the upside, she texted everyone in the neighbourhood, who informed her that they too had had an ursine visitor, with scattered garbage to show it.

She missed one person, though, which I found out the next day when Rex and I went in the early morning hours to take the garbage to the street for pickup. Someone had brought their bin up the night before, and it was knocked over, garbage scattered all over the street, to the delight of the magpies.

It’s a stressful situation. It is very unnerving to know that I could look out the window to see a bear; it’s fuel for nightmares, honestly. Even after moving the garbage, the next day it meandered around our house, going through our recycling, which is probably disappointing for it to find nothing but cardboard and washed-out yogurt containers. The very best case scenario is that, in the absence of easily-accessible garbage, the bear will move on in time, and I don’t really want to think about any other scenarios.

Later on Thursday, my son came home from his job at the golf course to show me a photo of a mama coyote with seven – seven! – pups, not fifty feet from the bunker he was working on. Between this and the deer, marmots, and thousands of birds and squirrels I encounter every day, I’m starting to feel like I’m starring in an episode of Lorne Greene’s New Wilderness. Or maybe a Disney movie, with less fluffy dresses and animal harmonizing. I’ll tell you what it’s not: a reenactment of the 1976 Governor General Award winning book, Bear. Do NOT get any ideas, Baloo.

Weekly Reading

Kind of a meh week in terms of reading; I read some very buzzy books that just didn’t hit for me. Here they are:

Everyone In My Family Has Killed Someone. Let’s say you go to a family reunion in an isolated mountain resort, and let’s say someone at that resort turns up dead. Now let’s say your family is infamous, due to a legacy of crime and murder. Let’s also say that you write “how to write a murder mystery” books for a living. Well! This was an entertainingly and cleverly written murder mystery set in Australia – I had NO idea there were snowy mountain resorts in Australia – but you know what, I am just not a murder mystery person. I keep trying different genres and I just don’t enjoy them – I get confused and then because I’m confused I get bored, I don’t love a lot of action in my books, and so this didn’t really do it for me. BUT if you are a person who likes murder mysteries, particularly the tropes that go with them, then you will probably love this. Definitely this was a “it’s not you, it’s me” problem.

Family Family. First of all, in the author’s note she says she was inspired to write this novel about a woman who is both a birth mother placing babies for adoption, and an adoptive mother herself, for her own child, who was adopted. She wanted to put a novel out there that shows a warm, happy, non-traumatic perspective about adoption, and if that is the goal, then goal accomplished. This is a very sweet and heartwarming story about what makes a family, and a family coming together in the face of a (kind of silly) time of need. It is also a very readable book; this author writes in a smooth, easy-to-read book. I will say that I did not think the storyline was great, and there were many plot holes that I found annoying (i.e., the mother chooses closed adoption, but somehow everyone is able to contact everyone else and knows everything about the adoptive and birth families, the adoptive children are easily able to contact and find the birth children, etc.) but you know what, sometimes a book isn’t meant for in-depth analysis. Sometimes it’s just meant as a love letter, and this is what I think the author set out to do, and did.

Grief Is For People. I have had friends, and friendly acquaintances, die by suicide, and it is a terrible, shocking thing, so I cannot imagine the pain of losing my best friend that way, as the author of this memoir did. The memoir processes her grief, from the burglary of her home one month prior to her best friend’s death, through the pandemic, living in NYC without her best friend. I am sorry to say that the book itself left me feeling flat and kind of confused. I wanted to love it but didn’t. 

Happy June, everyone! I hope you all have a great first week of the month. I have a bit of a busy week ahead of me, all good things, and hopefully bear-free! xo