Category Archives: Pandemic At The Disco

Psychological Long Covid

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Well, it has been a very busy and festive week in the Boyhouse! The biggest news, of course, was that we celebrated a 17th birthday!

There was a parent meeting for the birthday boy’s Phys Ed camping trip at the end of the month, notable because I still find it novel that we are having parent meetings in person. The camping trip itself is Very Backcountry, which should be interesting, as I inferred from the meeting that very few of my son’s fellow students have been camping at all, let alone in the backcountry. Where can I charge my phone was a question asked in his class, which is amusing since there is no electricity and in fact no signal at all where they are going. I mean, they are going to have to treat their water before drinking it, this is the level of Backcountry. It sounds like the seventh circle of hell to me, but he’s excited. He camps annually with his dad and brother but it’s never this extreme. I hope no one gets giardiasis.

Back in the fall of 2019, he started spending two lunch hours a week learning all the boring ins and outs of sailing; he did fundraising and worked really hard to go on the Grade Nine Sailing Trip, which was something he had looked forward to all through junior high and which he felt would be the Pinnacle of His Life, So Far. Of course, it was cancelled, and to say that was a disappointment would be an enormous understatement. All of which is to say I’m very happy for him and his hellish camping trip; I wouldn’t say that things are Pre-2020 Normal around here, just over two and a half years from the first lockdown, but I’m no longer feeling constantly anxious that activities are going to get cancelled at the last minute. I no longer refuse to think more than a week ahead of time.

I was feeling a bit weird and anxious on my last grocery trip, however. Superstore has rearranged all – ALL – of its aisles, which is incredibly disorienting. Instead of efficiently popping down Aisle Five, say, to grab a box of pasta, I found myself slowly wandering through each and every aisle just trying to find the pasta, as the signage detailing what was contained in each aisle were not consistently updated. Nothing was in the least bit intuitive: the condiments were beside the toilet paper, the cereal was tucked into the Natural Foods section, which was separate from the hot cereal that was next to the garbage bags. It took me a moment to realize why this was happening, and that moment came when I realized I needed to go down the chip aisle, something I normally avoid, to grab snacks for my son’s birthday party.

The whole aisle was like that, just filled with big boxes containing fifty single-serving Old Dutch products, almost exclusively plain chips. It was clear then, that Superstore is just filling space and that they amalgamated all their aisles to make it look fuller.

Who is buying all this water? No one. So I suppose it’s great to give the illusion of full shelves. It was unnerving, to say the least.

I don’t want to alarm anyone, but there wasn’t much in the baking supplies department. There was flour, but they had arranged it to seem like there was much more than there was; there was probably a third of the stock that they normally have. And, of course, still no sriracha, and I have no idea when that will be back in stock.

This is where I will shamefully update you on my Just One Backup promise. A few weeks ago I saw this:

While I would like to say I thought Oh, lemon juice is plentiful again, isn’t that interesting, I did not react with such equanimity. Friends, I bought a bottle to go with my other six in backup. Then, that very same day, I went to Costco where they had Boom Chicka Pop on sale for two dollars off per bag.

I bought three bags.

Other than that I have been doing really well, I swear. I emptied the freezer almost down to nothing before buying a few things, I’m working my way through the jars of salsa and nut butters, and the kids ate every last eighth of a container of homemade ice cream before I started making more. I wonder if there is a Long Covid, but for our psychological health? I think I must have some kind of Psychological Long Covid that causes a hoarding instinct whenever I perceive a shortage of certain key items. You can bet that when sriracha comes back, I will be unable to keep to my Just One Backup rule. In the meantime, I am stretching out the 1/4 of a bottle that we have, hoping it will last as long as possible.

Weekly Reading

This week contains a hit and a miss!

Bookends. I had never heard of this podcaster; I picked up the book on the promise of her showing “how books can help us through tough times,” as it says on the cover. I love books and so I assumed I would love this. I WAS SO VERY WRONG. For one thing, there is absolutely no discussion on how different books helped the author through tough times, instead she merely lists the books she was reading at the end of each chapter with no discussion or context whatsoever. As an example, she writes about the very tragic death of her best friend, who lost her life in the Twin Towers on 9/11, and then at the end of the chapter she says the title of the book that she was reading, with absolutely no parallels drawn. If you want to just write a memoir, fine, but if you’re advertising it as something that shows the meaning and inspiration that comes from reading, then you should probably write something about the meaning and inspiration of that book, not just the title.

The author is an incredibly privileged woman with enormous inherited wealth, and boy does she make that clear. This might be the most humble-braggy, name-dropping book I have ever read, and I read Will Smith’s memoir, so that is saying something. Sure, I would probably also be very proud that my dad created his own Fortune 500 company, and that my mom’s second wedding was featured in Town and Country, but in the absence of any other context, it just comes across as obnoxious. There is a paragraph about the author working out on the elliptical machine in the gym of the very fancy Hotel Bel-Air, and John Legend was working out beside her. End of sentence. Not to get all Chekov’s gun on the woman, but if you’re going to mention John Legend working out beside you, there should be an anecdote about it, or at least a reason that it is mentioned, not just a statement of fact, otherwise it’s just ridiculous name-dropping.

Even in the more relatable moments, like with parenting struggles, I found myself rolling my eyes about them. It is HARD to parent small children but whenever she talks about something like bedtime or dinnertime, and then mentions her two employed nannies, well, it’s hard to feel too sympathetic. I’m sure parenting twin toddlers is incredibly difficult BUT such paragraphs are followed by a description of her super-rich mother sending her to a weekend spa to catch up on sleep. I mean. Life is stressful for everyone, but I feel much less compassion for a person who has to run with the stroller to the expensive Manhattan toddler activities or when someone is late to the very expensive private school parents’ night, than I might to a woman who is stressed to the maximum just putting food on the table for her children, if you know what I mean, and I think you do. I had to remind myself to be compassionate – she did lose many people in tragic and horrific ways, and she did struggle with anxiety and depression. But her writing made it so hard to be compassionate. Anyway. I wanted to read it because of how it was advertised, all about books. I was extremely disappointed. Tl;dr, if you’re looking for a book about literature, this isn’t it.

Whew! That was a lot of words about a book I didn’t care for at all.

Writers and Lovers. I really enjoyed this gorgeously written book about a woman trying to live a creative life, trying to write a novel, all the while desperately needing to make a living and get herself out from under massive debt. It was particularly interesting to read right after Bookends. Yes, one is a memoir and one is a novel, but I could not help but be struck by the incredible differences between the memoir author and the protagonist of Writers and Lovers.

It’s obvious, of course, but being independently wealthy makes such a difference in being able to make it as a writer. In Writers and Lovers, the protagonist has to wake up very early to carve out writing time, and then work double shifts at a restaurant to pay her bills; she is absolutely crippled by debt and living in a garage, quite literally a starving artist. Compare that to Owens in Bookends, who is the recipient of enormous inherited wealth, such that, as she states, she never actually HAS to work in her life. She lives in a four-story brownstone in Manhattan, and was also a legacy student for both Yale AND Harvard Business School. Some people have everything literally handed to them and others, like in Writers and Lovers, have to hustle every minute of their lives, and have to try to still flex their creative muscles while their physical muscles are exhausted. It was a very interesting juxtaposition.

Speaking of exhausted muscles, it looks to be another busy week; I started back at teaching last week, and am getting to know a few new students, along with my old faithfuls. I hope you all have a wonderful week! xo

Just One Backup

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This week, the first after getting home from vacation, has been so satisfying. I’ve been getting Back Into Routine, crossing things off the to-do list, and gardening. My neighbour very kindly checked the house and watered the garden while I was gone, but of course there was much to be done after two weeks away. I have harvested one zucchini, and there are many, many more tiny ones on the plants, which grew so big that Salvadore was completely hidden; I had to move him to a different bed in order to enjoy his gnomeiness. I have two little peppers on my plants, and I had my first of many pea and tomato harvests.

I like to leave the house nice and clean when we leave for vacation as it makes reentry so much nicer; I make especial efforts to ensure the garbage and compost bins are empty and that the fridge only contains long-dated items. Unfortunately, and inexplicably, the jug of milk was something I forgot to deal with before leaving, and there was what can only be described as a science project in the three inches of milk left in the fridge. Ew. Chunky.

On that note, let’s get back to The Big Project. Previously on The Big Project, I had cleaned out my clothing closet and made a few rules for future shopping. This is, I feel, the easy part. It’s the rest of the house that will require some serious effort and also, is kind of boring. I like clothes! I am a bit daunted by other household items.

The next step in The Big Project, that I haven’t yet taken, is to go through my kitchen and donate my excess containers – the kids really do not need tiny snack containers at this stage of our lives – and to really assess the pantry situation.

And what a situation it is.

I have been working my way towards having Just One Backup of staple food and cleaning products, although I do make an exception for things I tend to need multiples of: canned beans and chickpeas, for example, for weeks in which I would need more than one can, or dish soap, which I appear to go through at an alarming rate. I have successfully gotten down to one backup of each of coffee and the various oils, vinegars, and sauces I use regularly, one bag each of flour, sugar, and rice, and one container of vitamins for each person in the house (we all have different brands). I still have a few extra nut butters and jars of vegan mayonnaise and salsa, as well as sundried tomatoes and, weirdly, mustard, but I’m sure we will get through them in due time. Tissues and toilet paper I purchase in large multipacks, and I try to have just one of those in backup.

Small digression: I was visiting with my husband’s aunt – who lives alone – a few weeks ago, and she told me that in the early stages of the pandemic she would purchase a large package of toilet paper every time she saw one available, not unlike me with twenty-five pound bags of flour. At one point she looked at her stockpile of toilet paper and thought oops. That stockpile of toilet paper lasted her a year and a half. I think we can all understand this. For reasons unknown to me, I have enough boxes of ziploc bags to last until I have headed for The Home or shuffled off this mortal coil, whichever comes first. I rarely use ziploc bags but somehow have a number of Costco three-packs in my pantry, in a variety of sizes, which must have been a Pandemic Purchase, but I cannot for the life of me recall my thinking on this matter. I may just give them away on our community Buy Nothing page. Either that, or I’ll leave them for my possible future grandchildren to discover upon my demise. Oh look, here’s Grandma’s wedding dress and…seven hundred ziploc bags. Huh. Will ziploc bags even exist fifty years from now? Who can say.

No matter. I have been working hard to not purchase things of which I already have backups (or, in some cases, several backups), and mostly, I have done well. I am trying to get back to my pre-pandemic consumption patterns and it is a Journey.

However, I have confessions to make. Friends, I am sorry to tell you that my Just One Backup vow has failed miserably in three notable areas: lemon juice, popcorn, and dried fruit. The last item, I give a pass – the dried fruit I love (strawberries and something that is cheerfully called Fruit Medley) is only available a couple times a year at Costco, and so I stock up when I can. This is my very valid excuse for having ten bags in my pantry at this time; it will last me for months, hopefully until the next time they come available.

As I mentioned briefly a little while ago, there was a strange blip in the lemon juice world, or at least, in my lemon juice world. Suddenly, there was no lemon juice anywhere. My brain immediately went from let’s just pick up one backup to PANIC PANIC PANIC. Let us refer to the lessons from the Minnesota Starvation Experiment as a precedent for the weird obsessions we get when something is not available to us. When I found store brand lemon juice, I bought it. When I found tiny little environmentally-disastrous plastic squeeze lemons, I bought them. My mom saw lemon juice at her grocery store and bought me two bottles. I now have seven bottles of lemon juice in my pantry and a few weeks ago it was back, available at Costco. Even with seven bottles in backup, I had a really hard time NOT buying the two-pack at Costco, and I know many of you can empathize with this. I especially feel bereft as it has not been available at Superstore this whole past month, and I noticed it was not there last week when I was at Costco. What if I can never buy it again, what have I done seems to be my thinking.

The other item that has been very difficult to buy recently is popcorn. Popcorn! Boom Chicka Pop has been largely unavailable for a few months now, so I have snapped up substitute bags here and there when I could. I am sorry to say that on my last trip to Superstore there was neither Skinny Pop nor Lesser Evil available, proving that I have indeed cursed us all by supporting ridiculously-named companies that apply moral values to food products. I currently have twelve (12!) bags of popcorn of various flavours and brands in my pantry, so it’s probably good that it’s currently unavailable. I mean, we all love popcorn but twelve bags is pretty excessive. WE JUST NEED TO WORK OUR WAY THROUGH WHAT WE HAVE, PEOPLE.

You may notice I haven’t mentioned the elephant in the room – sriracha. The sriracha shortage is a little unsettling, but not as unsettling as the environmental reason for the shortage. In any case, two of us here really like sriracha, and I have half a large bottle in the fridge with NO backup, but I think with careful rationing we should easily be able to make it into September, when it is supposed to become available again. We have two bottles of chili garlic sauce, and that should be a decent substitute, should we require one.

So I do need to go through the Very Full Pantry to see if there’s anything to be donated – ziploc bags! – and I vow not to purchase anything else until I am down to the last backup (but what if lemon juice and popcorn become instantly available, WHAT THEN), but I do have a food-related success story to share. I have cleaned out my freezer! I have discarded all freezer-burned items or items of questionable origin! I also have a dead freezer.

About a month ago I came home from the lake and my husband greeted me with the following: Nicole, you have to go look at the freezer. It won’t stop beeping and the temperature is rising. People, my freezer, my ten-year-old freezer, DIED. Without warning. As you might imagine, it was very full, and so I jumped into action. Fortunately we have a bar fridge-sized freezer from our early-marriage-child-free days, and after plugging it in we ascertained that it still works. I rearranged everything in the two fridge freezers and between those and the tiny freezer I managed to save most things, the exceptions being anything that I couldn’t recall purchasing or that was fuzzy with frost.

This is where I’ll mention that my mother-in-law still has the chest freezer she got as a newlywed in 1962, and it still works, although it probably uses more power than anything else in the house combined. STILL. Ten years, and I guess that old freezer is going to end up in the landfill? I don’t know what will happen to it when the New Freezer Delivery Guys take it away. I hope it will go for parts or something, but who would know. WHO WOULD KNOW.

Nonetheless, I’m counting this as a win. When my new freezer arrives, I am going to put nothing in it that cannot be consumed within a few months, mark my words. It’s a chance for a Fresh Start and I am not going to throw that away.

Weekly Reading

Children Playing Before A Statue Of Hercules. This collection, curated by my much-loved David Sedaris, is comprised of his favourite short stories and the proceeds of which go to an educational charity in NYC, which made me glad that I received this as a Christmas gift, rather than borrowing it from the library. If you love short stories like I do, you will not be disappointed. It is really excellent and it contains a few authors that I had never heard of, let alone read. One of my own favourite authors, Alice Munro, is featured; the story chosen isn’t my number one favourite, but it’s so good. Granted, as Sedaris says in the introduction, how can you choose just ONE Alice Munro story? Anyway, I loved this; every story is unique but they are all linked by the theme of class structures and societal constraints due to them.

Thick. This was such a powerful and important collection of essays about being a black woman in America. The author is an esteemed academic and her brilliance comes through in her writing, which is very thoughtful and readable, in addition to being very well researched. An important read for anyone, to be sure, but particularly for a very privileged white woman, like myself. I will be thinking about these essays for a long time to come, particularly one about her experience with prenatal and maternal “health care” that ended in a breathtakingly tragic way.

I am hoping to start on my cull of excess containers (and ziploc bags!) and organization of the pantry this week; will I, though? That remains to be seen! I hope you are having a lovely August so far. xo

The Big Project

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Longtime readers may remember the great Life Changing Magic I experienced, back in 2016, accomplished merely by Tidying Up. I Kondo-ed my entire house that year, section by section, and then followed that with the No-Shopping Challenge of 2017-18. The two experiences, together, really changed my consumer behaviour for the better. I became incredibly mindful of all purchases, but particularly clothing purchases. I bought clothes and shoes with intention. In terms of household items, I established a routine wherein I would have one backup in storage of all food or cleaning staples, and when I used that backup, I would add the item to my shopping list. This worked really well for me. Nothing expired or got freezer-burned, my clothes were all pieces that I loved, and I didn’t have a cupboard full of useless products, bought on a whim.

Then the pandemic hit.

I know I don’t have to tell you how it affected my personal consumer behaviour, because it probably affected yours in the same way; the mere idea that there could be a shortage of an item was enough to make me panic and buy that item whenever it was available, no matter that I already had a backup of that item, or, in some cases, several backups of that item. At one point I had one hundred pounds of flour in the house – four twenty-five pound bags, I just kept picking up a bag every time it was available – and although I do indeed bake a lot, that is really too much flour for a family of four. It was at that point I told myself that I could not buy any more until I had used up the last backup, and I kept to it.

Flour wasn’t the only thing I panicked about; I still have a lot of baking powder and, bizarrely, cream of tartar. I could make enough play-dough for every preschool program in the city at this point. My freezers were all full and so was my pantry, and I realized that all my good and reasonable consumption patterns had taken a turn.

I definitely needed a reset when it came to purchases, particularly in the area of groceries and household products. At the beginning of the pandemic, I bought some non-hippie cleaning supplies when they became available – remember how we couldn’t get things like Lysol? – and because I usually use my natural, hippie, probably-isn’t-effectively-killing-germs-but-they-smell-nice cleaners, I still have those bottles, unused, in my cupboard.

Then I read The Curated Closet and, looking at my own overflowing closet, it was like a little light went off in my head. Time for a project, and not just a project, but A Big Project. I needed to Change My Life, again.

I started with what can only be described as a mix between the Kon-Mari method, the Curated Closet ideology, and Swedish Death Cleaning. I apologize for referring to my own eventual demise two weeks in a row, but I promise you I am not planning to shuffle off this mortal coil just yet. However, I did have a what am I keeping this for moment while looking at some of my things, remembering when my grandma was moved into long-term care from her apartment. In cleaning out her apartment, there were so many items that, sadly, no one had use for. I want someone to use the things I have, even if it’s not me using them.

One of my friends was collecting linens and the like for a couple of charitable projects of her own, and so I made the plunge and donated four full sets of old towels and three blankets that I was keeping for no particular reason. Well, there was a reason for the towels: my thinking was that in case our basement ever flooded, I would have extra towels to mop up the water. For context, this has never happened, and we have lived in this house for 22 years. Our basement got slightly wet near a single window back in 2005, the summer I was pregnant with my younger son, and that was due to an enormous amount of rain and a malfunction of our eavestroughs. Those eavestroughs have long since been fixed, and being our basement didn’t even get a drop of water during Calgary’s 2013 flood, I felt that four extra sets of towels, particularly ones that are never used, were just too many towels.

After that, I had momentum going for me. I tackled my closet and dressers, and believe me, that is a task in itself. I tend to buy quality, non-trendy pieces that last a long time, which means I have many things that are over a decade old, but still are in great shape. I have been the same size for probably fifteen years, but my body shape has changed, if that makes sense, so some of those items, while they technically fit, did not feel good at best or felt unflattering at worst.

I made a vow to keep only pieces that I love and that make me feel, if not gorgeous, at least cute. LOVE means different things, right? The love I feel for my husband and kids is different from the love I feel for a glass of cabernet franc, or for coconut milk ice cream. Similarly, the love I feel for a fabulous black dress is different than the love I feel for a cute old tee, emblazoned with the words Shine On, that I wear when I am gardening. But the key to cleaning out my closet was I wanted nothing in there that I didn’t love or that I didn’t feel fabulous in. Can you feel fabulous in yoga pants and a sweatshirt? I think you can, because I do, albeit in a different way than when I’m in a dress and heels. Different costumes for different activities! Gardening clothes are different from workout wear, and both are different from going-out clothes, but different doesn’t mean better or worse. Right? My body shape is different, but that doesn’t mean it’s any better or worse than five or ten years ago.

In an effort to show the clothes I love some love, I bought a big set of velvet hangers, got rid my mishmash of plastic and wire hangers – NO! WIRE! HANGERSSSSSSS! – and took every item out of my closet and dressers. When I wasn’t sure about something – a dress I hadn’t worn for years, for example – I tried it on and if I didn’t feel spectacular, I put it in the donation pile. If I felt meh about a piece, I put it in the donation pile. I thought, if it doesn’t Spark Joy or I don’t Love It, it goes. The hardest part was getting rid of sweaters that were expensive to start with, even if I had gotten a lot of wear out of them. But there were some that I just didn’t love anymore, for whatever reason, and I thanked them for their service and hoped they found their way into the closet of someone who would love them.

Fortunately for me, in the middle of this the Kidney Foundation happened to call to see if I had any donations; this was their haul, three of those bags being from my sons’ cull of their respective closets.

One of the rules from The Curated Closet is to carefully examine your wardrobe, identify gaps or needs, then – and only then – make careful, measured purchases. I have to say, in a completely honest way, that I have no gaps or needs, even after this massive cull. You guys, I have a lot of clothes. It’s ridiculous. I am not going to go on another No Shopping Year, mostly because if I do I fear my mother will disown me and my husband will leave me, but I have made a few rules for the next year, starting May 27, which is when I began The Big Project.

  1. No quick purchases. If there is something I think I need in the clothing department, I am going to wait at least a week to purchase it to see if I can be without it. Chances are I already have several similar items in my closet; i.e., my twenty black sweaters and thirty-two black tees in a variety of sleeve lengths and fits.
  2. Socks and underwear are exempt from Rule #1. Those items can be purchased whenever required.
  3. Seasonal essentials are somewhat exempt from Rule #1; I have many, many pairs of gloves and scarves and hats, but should I require something that will allow me to live my vida hygge, or friluftsliv, I shall not hesitate.
  4. Decent footwear is vital to my well-being, and if any of my current sandals, shoes, running shoes, or winter boots wear out, they can be immediately replaced.
  5. If it doesn’t make me feel fabulous, it doesn’t belong in the closet. This means new purchases, yes, but it also means I need to assess my old favourites from time to time, as my body changes with perimenopause.

So here I am, almost two months into the Rules already, and I have kept to them so far! The next step is dealing with the pantry and household goods; stay tuned.

Weekly Reading

Hooked. This was so interesting; the cover somewhat suggests one of those weird lecture-style books about the dangers of food, but it was not like that at all. Instead, it’s a smart and well-researched book on the nature of addiction, the role memory plays in our eating lives, and corporate manipulation. There is a lot about the processed food industry, and a sideline about the famous McDonalds lawsuit. I was excited to read about Indra Noori and PepsiCo, whose memoir I had recently read. Noori famously worked towards bringing healthier choices to PepsiCo, and was lauded for it by everyone BUT Wall Street. That was a detail that was not in her memoir, and apparently one of the reasons she stepped down in 2018. Investors, apparently, wanted more of those crazy unhealthy multi-product items on the menu.

Tacky: Love Letters to the Worst Culture We Have To Offer. I put this on my library hold list for a reason, but for the life of me, I cannot remember what that reason was. Did I hear about it on a podcast? Did I read about it in an interview? In any case, it was very, very different from what I was expecting, which was, as it says on the cover, “…a masterly ode to unfettered, unrestrained, and unrepentant joy.” I’m pretty sure I would not use the word “joy” to describe this collection of essays. I was expecting joyful discussion of tacky pop culture, and each essay did circle back to a different piece of pop culture, that’s correct. The author is many years my junior and so the pop culture in question that shaped her youth were things that I vaguely remembered from my twenties and thirties and, in the case of Guy Fieri, my forties. I suppose it’s because of my age that I had that not-unfamiliar motherly/ big sisterly feeling of alarmed disappointment when I read about her frankly quite horrifying and unhealthy exploits. Honey, you deserve better than this, I thought constantly, along with For the love of god, make better choices. So I’m not the desired demographic. I will say that each depressing essay was extremely well-written; the author is a talented essayist, even if I find the content disturbing and sad.

Heart Talk. I am including this in my weekly reading, although I have been reading it, one or two pages at a time, for months, before my yoga practice in the morning. It was a lovely way to start my practice; it’s such a gem of a book about self-care and self-love. Perfect pre-yoga reading!

I hope you are all having a lovely summery week, friends! I am going to leave you with photos of “the twins,” taken on my morning run when I was up at my parents’ place last week. Aren’t they sweet? xo

1/4000, But Hopefully 1/5200

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Since about July of last year, my mom has been asking me if a) I thought my older son would have a graduation ceremony, and b) if so, would they be able to attend. Every time she asked, I had to shrug and say I had no idea, because honestly, who could tell anything that would happen more than a week in advance, if that? Earlier this year, when I received information that there would be a ceremony, and after that, a banquet, I could hardly believe it. For a long time I kept the idea that anything would really happen at bay; after so many cancelled plans, I didn’t want to pin my hopes on anything.

But Friday, they DID have a graduation ceremony, and there WAS a banquet and a dance, and it was absolutely wonderful. The ceremony was very long, as there were 698 students in my son’s graduating class, but for the entire three-plus hours, I kept thinking, this is amazing. This is amazing! Look around, look around, how lucky we are to be alive right now. Friday was a very long day, I was up and going for almost twenty hours, with the morning graduation and then the banquet and dance in the evening, but it felt absolutely incredible. If there is anything that has come out of the pandemic, for me, it’s an intense feeling of gratitude for things I would have taken for granted previously. Yes, my feet hurt in these heels, yes, I’m exhausted, but I’m here, and I’m experiencing this incredible thing that so many people have not. My sons have, like everyone else, missed out on so much during these past two years. They have missed so many things in their high school experience that can never be recovered, but this evening, with crazy dancing and loud music, was wonderful.

I was in awe of all the beautiful girls in their gorgeous dresses and shoes at the banquet. Every single one of them was beautiful, and I’m sure every single one of them doubted their beauty. I made a point of complimenting every girl I encountered, and I’m glad I did, because when I was in the washroom I overheard girls complaining about their “fat arms” and girls, no. No. Girls this age just have no idea how beautiful they all are, in that full glow of youth; I wish they did know, I wish they did appreciate it, but I guess we were all the same. We are probably still the same, just maybe without that full glow of youth.

It seems like sometimes books come to me at exactly the right time; this week I read Four Thousand Weeks, the title of which is derived from the number of weeks we have if we live until age 80, which means that if things go the way I hope they will, I will have fifty-two hundred weeks. Anyway, this book is excellent and I would recommend it to everyone. One of the theses of the book is that we can’t possibly get everything done in our life – our four thousand weeks – so we need to just accept that and do the best with the time we have. You cannot do it all, so don’t even try or waste your resources stressing about it, is what the book says.

I mentioned this book to one of my son’s friends, casually in passing, and he said “Four thousand? That doesn’t seem like very much.” Truth.

This week was an incredibly full one; at one point I thought Tuesday was Thursday, if that gives you any idea. In addition to the graduation day and all my regular weekly obligations and frantic May gardening, I spent part of an afternoon taking photos of my son and his friends in casual settings with their caps and gowns, I watched my son’s Drama Fest, which was the first onstage performance at the school since 2019, I attended a funeral, I taught a chair yoga class for a Senior’s Health and Wellness afternoon, and our family went to see Maverick, which was absolutely tremendous and well worth the two years that I’ve been waiting for it to be released. None of those things seemed possible to me a few months ago, and here they all happened in the course of a week. Even in a non-pandemic time this would seem like a full week, but every time I started to feel a little frazzled, I thought of Four Thousand Weeks. Things will get done, or they won’t, but these are important and prioritized and I’ll do what I can. And you know what? Everything got done that I wanted to get done, and here we are in a fresh new week.

For a few years now, I have been actively replacing the words “I don’t have time to do that” with “That is not a priority” to see if changing the words is comfortable for me. For example, if I say “A visit with my friend is not a priority” instead of “I don’t have time for a visit with my friend,” it doesn’t feel right, and then I make the time. Changing the wording in my mind has absolutely changed my behaviour. After all, four thousand to fifty-two hundred weeks is a precious, miniscule amount of time in the cosmic sense, and I want to spend it as best I can.

Speaking of precious time, today is Barkley’s birthday! When you have a dog who is the human equivalent of ninety-eight, every single day is precious.

Pandemic Reading

Four Thousand Weeks. This book is so balanced and smart and does something that not many books do – it acknowledges implicit privilege with regards to how we spend our time. I loved that the author referenced Richard Scarry’s Busytown as a bit of a busyness utopia – everyone has plenty to do, but they aren’t stressed or unhappy and they finish their workday when they finish their workday – as those were my favourite books when I was a kid. This book got me thinking a lot about how I spend my time and mental energy, especially this busy, busy week.

There is a large chapter on time saving devices, and how they do not actually save time at all because they just encourage us to add more to the pile and to be impatient, which is something I genuinely think about a lot. Washing machines, dishwashers, microwaves, EMAIL, my god, especially email, all of these things are supposed to be liberating and time-saving, but we just try to do more, more, more, and not only that, we have unrealistic expectations on how fast we do things. It’s like things are supposed to be instantaneous now; I had to recognize that in myself this week as I turned on my Peloton. It took maybe five to ten seconds to boot up, and I found myself becoming completely unhinged and impatient in those five to ten seconds. What is wrong with me?

Another part of the book, which I really liked, is about living a meaningful life, and what that entails. I find myself to be a little bit sensitive on this subject at times. There is a woman who is in my life, and who will always be in my life, and each and every time I see her she makes mention about how I have “wasted my education.” Now, I generally feel I can rise above such comments, considering the source, but it’s still THERE, it still pokes. I do not think this, by the way, I do not think that it was a waste in the slightest; I worked in my field and the financial rewards were very good, I am satisfied with my accomplishments and I don’t have any regrets from leaving that field, either. But still. It’s hard to hear this a few times a year for years and years without it affecting me at all.

I ran into a dear friend this past week; this friend gave up corporate life to take a job with a lot of flexibility, but not much in the Status Department. He mentioned all the intangible benefits to doing this for the past several years: greatly improved health indicators and being able to help out with his mother, who suffers Alzheimer’s were the most significant. But, he said, it was hard to check the ego at the door, because when you meet new people one of the first things they ask is What do you do? I told him I related to this one hundred percent. When I left my job on the trade floor to be a stay-at-home mom, it was pretty much a conversation-ender. No one wants to hear about that at a party.

But the truth is that we all have a purpose, and only a very small number of people in the history of the world are going to accomplish things that will never be forgotten. Does that mean the rest of us are insignificant and forgettable? Maybe in the cosmic sense, but what matters is now. Maybe a meaningful life is one that just leaves the world a little bit brighter than before.

On that note, I hope you all have a bright and happy week ahead, as we forge into June (JUNE!). xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Daily Glow-Up Edition

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You’re already beautiful; the makeup is just for fun. This is what my friend Dan Thompson used to say, and it’s so true. Makeup, to me, is fun, but I have a small confession to make: I actually don’t feel like ME without makeup on.

It’s not that I don’t believe that I’m beautiful without it, and it’s not that I hate the way I look, barefaced. It’s not even that I prefer the way I look with makeup on; it is that I honestly do not feel like myself without it. I don’t feel like my best self without it, either.

There’s probably a lot that could be said or conclusions that could be drawn about me, given that statement, but it is absolutely true. I put on makeup every single day, every SINGLE DAY, regardless of my activity or who I see or don’t see, because the truth is that wearing makeup is for me and for my own mental benefit. Illness is the only thing that keeps me from putting on makeup, and even then, I have to basically have one foot in the grave to not at least brush on a coat of mascara and a dusting of powder.

I have been writing about my Favourite Things for almost ten years now – the first Favourite Things was written in July 2012! – and the point of it has never been to tell anyone else what they should be doing or using. Nicole’s Favourite Things are NICOLE’S Favourite Things, things I love and things that work for me, and if they work for you or you want to try and enjoy them, then that is a bonus.

I know what it feels like to have someone disparage something you love, or cast aspersions on you for enjoying something, and I never want to make anyone feel that way. I never want anyone to feel that they should be doing something or that they have to do something or shame about what they do or like. If you’re a person who prefers to go au naturel, for whatever reason, I celebrate and support you! After all, we ARE all beautiful, and makeup is a fun frivolity that I do not want to live without. I COULD live without it, of course, but I do not want to.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Daily Glow-Up Edition

First, let me show you what we are working with.

This is me at 4:10 am on a Thursday morning; my face has been washed and my hair has been brushed, but I am pre-yoga, pre-workout, PRE-COFFEE, all of which are things that de-puff my puffy morning face. I have no makeup on, nor any moisturizer. This is just me.

Serums and Primer

I have spoken before about my love for The Ordinary serums – I like the caffeine 5% for under my eyes, and the argireline solution for my forehead lines. Both are under $10 each and they last about four months. I mean, you cannot go wrong. I also use Smashbox Smooth and Blur primer, although I don’t think it smooths or blurs, but it does help my makeup last all day. In the summer and on warm spring days I put on Neutrogena sunscreen – it goes on before the primer, but after the serums.

This is me post-shower, post-yoga-and-workout, post-coffee, post-serum-and-primer.

BB and CC Cream

If I am not wearing actual sunscreen, I like IT Your Skin But Better CC Cream because it contains SPF. You can sustain sun damage any time of year, people, yes, even in Calgary, even in the winter. I am outside a minimum of an hour a day, regardless of weather, and much more than that in actual nice weather, so SPF is a must. If I am wearing the afore-mentioned Neutrogena sunscreen, then I use Garnier BB Cream, which I like but doesn’t have anything in the way of SPF.

Small note, if you decide to try IT CC Cream: it is quite heavy. Use about half of what you think you might need, otherwise you may end up with a Kabuki-like face. I also like a dusting of pressed powder; Revlon Photoready Blurring Powder is my favourite. Does it blur? It does not. But it helps “set” my makeup for the day.

The Eyes Have It

Longtime readers will recall that I have been a fan of Maybelline Falsies Lash Lift for many, many years. Honestly, I have tried many more expensive brands of mascara and I always come back to Maybelline, which is available for about eight dollars at the drugstore.

There’s nothing like a mask and car lighting to showcase the eyes:

In addition to the most ridiculously-named-but-so-good mascara (FALSIES, WHAT), I use an Annabelle eyeliner and brow pencil. Here’s the thing: never in my life did I think I would need a brow pencil. I was born with what can be kindly described as Luxurious Eyebrows, but were, in my teen years, something more akin to a cross between Martin Scorsese and Bert from Sesame Street.

However, due to greying and, apparently, balding eyebrows, I have had to fill in – gently, don’t want to channel Uncle Leo – my brows for the past year or so.

I also add just a tiny bit of blush to the apples of my cheeks.

Smooch

Lip colour is just so transformative. I like to have lots of options; I still wear a mask to most places, but if I’m outside walking or meeting a friend, I always put on some lip colour. Even just around the house, I like to at least put on tinted lip balm. Calgary is a very dry climate and I find lips can get chapped or cracked very easily, and O’Keefe’s is great for nighttime treatment or on the rare occasion that I want an untinted lip balm.

My favourite Cover Girl Semi-Matte lipstick in the Trending shade has been discontinued! Don’t you hate that? I guess it’s time to find a new favourite among the million other lipsticks around.

So there we have it; my daily glow-up routine. I enjoy Putting On My Face, as the senior set says, and these are all my current favourite products. I hope you enjoyed my transformation! If you have favourite makeup products, let me know what they are – I love hearing about such things! xo

A Week of Spring Outfits; 114 Weeks In

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The other morning after class I complimented one of my ladies on her cherry-red top. She always looks good in one of her several red, pink, and purple tops, but that morning she looked particularly glowing and lovely, and I told her so. She thanked me and then said, “Well, Nicole, you know, I’m a Spring.” I smiled at that, and she followed it up with her theory that even if you don’t get your Colours done officially, you can tell what season you are by what clothing you gravitate towards. Her theory said that we naturally choose the clothes and colours that suit us best, and you know, I think she’s right.

I know for myself, I gravitate towards what I recently heard referred to as the New York Rainbow – black, grey, and white – and simple cuts and lines. I read The Curated Closet this week, which is all about discovering and cultivating your personal style and esthetic, one that works with your lifestyle, without succumbing to trends that are unsuitable or fast fashion, so it’s fitting that this week’s post is all about clothing.

As a note, I recognize that fashion trends are not aimed at me or my demographic. I know! I know. The trendsetters are not putting together lookbooks with the 47-year-old Calgary woman in mind, but wow, this season’s fashion trends are not at all suited to me or the esthetic I aim for. Let’s just forget about the bright colours and patterns that I don’t feel comfortable in, let’s just forget about how SHORT all the tops are this season, which are not flattering for my perimenopausal figure, let’s just talk about about cut: everything is ruched and ruffled and the puffy sleeves are enough to satisfy Anne Shirley’s deepest desires. Everything is ruffled! Everything has ruching! Sleeves are all puffed and shoulders are expanded upon! Needless to say, this isn’t an esthetic that works for me, which, on the upside, means that it’s pretty easy to refrain from mindlessly shopping.

One of the topics in The Curated Closet is the Uniform; not an actual uniform, but the type of clothes a person wears daily. Do you have a Spring Uniform? My Spring Uniform is not too dissimilar from my Rest Of The Year Uniform, which is to say fitted pants – yoga leggings or skinny jeans – and longer, often flowing tops, with lots of layers. Layers are key when you live in a climate like Calgary’s – spring is incredibly and wildly volatile, and temperatures, precipitation, and wind speeds can and do change hourly. Also, we had windchills below zero this week with icy cold rain and, yes, snowflakes in the air, which, well, I’ll just be over in the corner crying softly, thinking about my garden.

My dad told me that he read that this spring is the coldest Western Canada has had in…I forget what he said, actually, but whatever it was I found it weirdly comforting. I had started to lose all perspective and just accept that we lived in a frozen hellscape where summer will never come, never. Ah! This isn’t normal! Sometimes it IS warm! It gave me a weird sense of hope.

Anyway, back to clothes. While I’d like to showcase seven days of light springwear, this is not my reality. Instead I give you seven days of clothes while dealing with crazy weather fluctuations! Please note that while two of the pants are new within the last year, most of these pieces are several years old, some more than a decade old. When I buy a piece, I want it to last a long time and I want it to incorporate into my wardrobe smoothly. Not to anthropomorphize my clothing or anything, but I want all my pieces to get along and play nicely together. I love getting dressed in the morning; putting together the Day’s Costume based on my activities and the weather is always fun for me. One of the reasons I love Marie Kondo is her Sparking Joy concept; my clothes spark joy and they all have a role to play in my life. Okay, maybe I anthropomorphize my clothing. But what of it? It’s not like I think they have a secret life and are enacting little dramas and romances when I go to bed at night. (But what if they do? That would be fun.)

One Week of Spring Outfits

Thursday

The week starts on a Thursday! Thursday is a teaching day, and this is a pretty typical teaching outfit for me: yoga tank and leggings with a tee. The fitted tank is essential, because tees tend to ride up during things like downward dog, and I prefer to keep my midriff covered at all times. It’s hard to tell from the photo but the tank is a black and charcoal camo print, and the tee matches the charcoal. It’s all about the little things.

This is a little thing but I left the house with just a sweater and scarf! No coat! No boots! No gloves! As mentioned above, with our weather this is NOTABLE. Most people associate scarves with fall, but I associate them with spring and jauntily strolling around with only a light sweater as protection against the elements.

Friday

This was hands-down my favourite outfit of the week. The jeans are new and a perfect fit, which is miraculous because I bought them online during Black Friday sales, which is risky! The risk paid off! Sweater, tank, and scarf are all many years old, and the shoes are the cutest and comfiest little Skechers. Well, not little. My feet are pretty big. But I’m wearing SHOES without SOCKS and not BOOTS. Spring!

Saturday

We have been trying to go bowling at our fitness club as a family as often as possible, and the last time we went, there was a young girl’s birthday party going on and it was glow-in-the-dark bowling with a dance competition on the big screen! So much fun. I have moves like Jagger, people. Anyway, these jeans were also part of my online Black Friday purchase, and this top, well, I love it. I bought it while shopping with my mom in her small town, probably seven years ago now. It doesn’t get much wear because it’s so lightweight, the weather has to be warm, but not too warm, to wear it.

Saucy bowling shoes courtesy of the club.

Sunday

Gardening day! It was warm enough to be in the garden, and so I was out there for a long time, edging and weeding and basically spinning around with happiness.

The jeans date from 2008 and have, clearly, worn right through the knees. The tee was a $5USD purchase from Maui in 2015 or 2016, and it always gives me happy tropical memories. Those shoes are my gardening shoes; they are Skechers with a flower motif.

Monday

Monday is a teaching day, so my uniform of tank, tee, and tights is the order of the day. This was the warmest day of the week, and so my tights are capri-length, and again, shoes with no socks!

Tuesday

Well, nothing can last forever, and this was the day the weather changed for the worse. No more shoes without socks, no leaving the house without a coat.

I have to tell you about this coat: I bought it when the boys were in preschool. PRESCHOOL! And this week my son graduates high school. I love it just as much as when I bought it; it’s a little “off-brand” for me colour-wise but I love it. It’s lined, it’s waterproof, it has a hood and is long enough to keep me warm on these chilly spring days.

Underneath: a sweater, but a light sweater, paired with a tank and the most comfortable pants you can imagine. These pants are from lululemon, and they are actual pants with a button and zipper, but they feel like yoga pants. It’s magic.

Did you know Sorel makes non-winter boots? They do! These are cute and comfortable AND water-proof, so good for snowy/ rainy spring days that are not below freezing. Did I just type that sentence? Yes, I did.

Wednesday

Wednesday is grocery day, and so I need something akin to workout wear. I mean, this was my haul from Superstore and Costco last Wednesday:

It took 52 minutes to put everything away. Forget carry-out service, I need a service to help me actually put the groceries away in my house.

Anyway, this Extreme Workout requires comfortable clothes that I can move around in, and that means yoga tank and pants, and this cute light sweater that cannot be worn without something underneath because it’s roomy and moves around a lot, if you know what I’m saying.

That’s it for the outfits, now for the books!

Pandemic Reading

These Precious Days. OH. I don’t think I can adequately express how much I loved this. I have read many essay collections and none have affected me like this. Everything resonated. Everything moved me. I feel a kinship and connection to the author that is incredibly strong. I loved every single word. I’m a fast reader but I slowed down because I didn’t want this to be over. It was such an incredible read for me and I cannot say enough about it.

The Curated Closet. As I mentioned above, this was a perfect book for my Week of Spring Outfits! This was so much fun to read! It’s all about discovering and establishing your own personal style and aesthetic, with helpful hints on how to shop mindfully, look for quality and fit, and detox your closet. Very fun and really well laid out and photographed. It has inspired me to go ahead with a Big Project that I have been turning around in my mind for the last few months.

Honor. I pride myself on being honest in my reviews, and this is painful for me to say. I have been looking forward to reading this for months; I was so excited when it came in at the library. I love this author and I was so interested in the very important story and theme. I want you to know that, to know just how much I hate to say what I’m going to say: I am disappointed. I found the characters to be one-dimensional and it was difficult to care about them, the dialogue is stilted, and the narration seemed contrived and heavy handed. It pains me to say it. Based on the author’s other works, I expected to be transported and amazed, but I wasn’t. It lacked the nuance and subtlety I love about her other books. It’s a decent book, it’s worth a read, but it’s not incredible or transformative and that is what I expected. It might be just me, and having high expectations, but this was a let down. 

I have a hugely busy and exciting week ahead, the sun is supposed to shine (mostly), and so I am feeling great and optimistic! I hope you have a wonderful spring-y week! xo

You Could Stuff A Throw Pillow With That Chest Hair; 113 Weeks In

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I was planning to post a Week of Spring Outfits, but this is what it looked like at the beginning of the week:

Although the week ended in a spring-like fashion, I thought the early part would overlap too much with my Week of Winter Outfits, what with my winter boots and warm sweaters. But I’m dying to talk to you about clothes and fashion for spring! Maybe next week.

You know what’s fun to do when you’re wearing your winter boots and it’s 5 degrees and snowy in May? Go to the garden centre! It sounds like I am being sarcastic, but believe me, I am not. I prefer to shop at less busy times; this sounds like a Pandemic Thing but it’s really just a Nicole Thing. I have always hated shopping at busy times; once, pre-pandemic, I went to Costco on a Sunday afternoon and my thought was this is how it ends for me, I guess.

When the sun comes out and the weather feels more May than March, it’s almost like the entire city remembers that a) it’s spring and b) gardens exist, and the garden centres are abuzz with activity. But with weather like we’ve had, well, I’m not saying I had the whole place to myself, but it was pretty easy to socially distance.

I texted my modest haul to my husband, who marvelled at my plant-buying restraint. What he didn’t know was that I have six flower planters and a ten-pack of vegetables on order from a fundraiser arriving in a couple of weeks, and what he does know but doesn’t always remember is that the majority of my gardens are filled to the brim with perennials, and so my plant needs are not so large. Also, after my garden centre trip I went to Superstore, where the gift with purchase was…a flower planter! What I’m saying is I’m pretty excited to get in the garden and get as much as I can out of our very short growing season. You can expect many, many garden updates from me over the next few months.

On a non-garden note, here’s an exciting update for you: I have finished watching Season One of The Golden Girls! At this rate I’m going to finish the series by 2026. Season Two opened up with two fantastic episodes: Blanche thinking she’s pregnant, but is instead going through menopause, and the ladies becoming mistaken for sex workers and ending up arrested. There is a guest appearance by the man referred to throughout the episode as Mr. Burt Reynolds, and I actually laughed out loud with delight when the gentleman in question appeared at the door with Sophia. Sorry, spoiler alert for a 37 year old TV show.

Anyway, it got me thinking two things: first, this might have been one of the very first mainstream television shows to discuss The Change, even if there are plot holes you could lose your house in. I mean, who thinks pregnancy at age 55? And also, in the history of the world is there one woman whose periods just naturally stopped with no other changes at all, and that was her menopause? But I cheer the effort to address something that women then, and sometimes now, seem loathe to address.

Second, heartthrobs in the 80s were very different from heartthrobs today. They were so much hairier! No chest waxing for Mr. Burt Reynolds (do guys still wax their chests? Or did that go out with the 40 Year Old Virgin?) I will tell you, people, when I saw that giant moustache, tanned skin, and brown leisure suit walk into the Golden Girls’ home, well. It was a look.

It reminded me of our 1987 family trip to California. We did all the usual things, including the most boring viewing of the Spruce Goose, which only served to make me appreciate the casino episode of The Simpsons. Anyway, one of the things we did was go to Universal Studios, and I don’t remember a single thing about it except that there were life-size cardboard cutouts of then-current heartthrobs, notably Tom Selleck, which you could get your photo taken with to trick your friends into thinking that you had your photo taken with the ACTUAL Tom Selleck. The 80s! Such a quaint time. My mom did have her photo taken with “Tom,” his arm floating a couple of inches above her shoulder. I myself had my photo taken with one “David Hasselhoff.”

It was an odd choice to be sure; I have never in my life seen an episode of Knight Rider, and certainly I wasn’t interested in David Hasselhoff at that time. My celebrity crushes in 1987 were limited to Iceman and Maverick (NEW MOVIE COMING OUT SOON OMG), Corey Hart (I was in his actual fan club), and, weirdly, Ralph Macchio from the Karate Kid Part II.

Another odd choice is my Garfield zodiac sweatshirt paired with a collared shirt but again, it was 1987 and I felt pretty hip. Also, there’s no need to ask “What’s your sign” when it’s in Garfield form on your body, for all to see.

Pandemic Reading

Before I get into the books I read this week, I am going to tell you about something I did that I never do: I took a book back to the library without reading it. A friend had highly recommended a book and I immediately put it on hold, without any other information, and when it came in I was distressed to see that it was a memoir about addiction. Addiction memoirs are right up there with sci-fi and dystopian novels for me, in the category of Things I Don’t Want To Read. Not only was this an Addiction Memoir, but it was also a Parenting With Addiction Memoir. I kept putting it off and renewing it, and finally I decided I would flip to a couple of pages to see what it was like. The very first line I read concerned putting a child to bed and then doing a line of coke, and I was like that NOPE octopus gif.

Here is what I did read this week:

Black Widow. I heard this woman on a podcast and I knew I had to read her book about being suddenly widowed at age 44.  It’s such a compelling and touching read but also extremely witty and somehow funny. 

The Great Gatsby. CONTROVERSIAL OPINION ALERT. I first read this 25 years ago and HATED it. Like, I have a visceral reaction to even the title. But my younger son is reading it for English, so I decided to reread it. I didn’t hate it. I didn’t like it but I can appreciate it as a social commentary, a time capsule, a voice of a generation, etc. Still. My son suggested I don’t like it because it’s written by a man and the main character is a man, and you know, he’s probably not wrong. I find it dull, although the ending is decent. I know, I know, I am in the massive minority here, everyone loves it and it speaks to them, but that is the great thing about literature, we can all like what we like. And I don’t like this – but I can appreciate it.

Everything Must Go. I almost quit this book before I began: the very first paragraph, THE VERY FIRST ONE, deals with putting down a much loved dog riddled with cancer. Um, that sucked. I immediately checked the book jacket to see if this was a major theme in the book – it wasn’t – and then continued reading. The dead dog was only tangentially in the story but TRIGGER WARNING for those of us with elderly, cancer-ridden dogs. Anyway. The book is about a woman dealing with her mothers dementia, written from both points of view. The author’s signature seems to be light and easy books about heavy and difficult topics, and that’s how I’d describe this. DEAD DOG THOUGH YOU GUYS. It’s fine. It’s fine. Barkley’s still here. I’m fine. Everything is fine. This book is fine.

More than fine? My new kale patch! I felt a little nervous, putting actual plants in, but kale is pretty cold tolerant so I think it will be fine. I hope you have a More Than Fine week, my friends. xo