Category Archives: Pop Cult-ure

Girls Just Want To Have Fun

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The polar vortex has arrived, and with it, snow. As polar vortexes go, I feel like it is really not that bad, and can’t figure out if I’ve turned into Lieutenant Dan on the shrimping boat in the storm. IS THAT THE BEST YOU CAN DO? I’m not complaining, by any means. I’ll take a mild polar vortex any day. In any case, it’s really pretty right now.

It’s been a bit of a dull week around here; it’s that late-January, not-much-is-going-on feeling. I thought I would take this opportunity to answer some of the very fun and light questions that I received on my Ask Me Anything, which is still open, by the way! I’m happy to answer anything you might want to ask. This week, it’s all about Fun Stuff! Thanks for the very fun questions, friends!

Food, Glorious Food

Elisabeth (HI ELISABETH) asked: If you could eat one meal for a month straight, what would it be? This is a very easy question to answer; I decided to take the soft lob right out of the gates. Greek salad and hummus with pita, that is my answer. I could easily eat that for a month straight; when the guys went to Alaska for ten days, I ate it for six of those days, and the other days, I was visiting my parents. It is my favourite, I never get tired of it, and it’s nutritious and nourishing too. Add in a few glasses of red wine, and you have my perfect Friday night. If we are talking about food that I don’t personally prepare, there is an amazing local place called Aida’s Bistro that has the greatest Lebanese food you could ever hope to eat, this side of Beirut. We don’t order there frequently because a) we don’t often eat out, and b) it is super hard to find parking around there, even just for take-out, but people. PEOPLE. They have a sandwich called The Mouh and if I could eat that, along with their dip sampler, on a weekly basis I would be a Happy Woman. Well, I’m already a Happy Woman, but the eggplant, my god, the eggplant. That is not even a euphemism. Mr. Boyhouse already provides the eggplant aplenty, if you know what I’m saying, but wow, do I love their Mouh and baba ganoush. Suzanne (HI SUZANNE) asked: What are your desert island foods? and I would reference all of the above, but also let’s throw in some salsa and chips, maybe a few Macintosh apples, and definitely a nice Lindor.

All The World’s A Stage

Elisabeth also asked: If you could pick any job and magically have the necessary skills, what would you choose and why? This is also a fairly easy question for me. I would, absolutely, choose to be a theatre actor. And if we are fantasizing here and believing that everything is in place for the magical career, then I’m going to say a Broadway stage actor. Let’s add in the ability to sing and dance, and maybe I’d be a Schuyler sister? When I was young, I was in several plays and I loved everything about them; I loved learning my lines and blocking the scenes and the endless rehearsals and, of course, I loved the performances. I am a performer at heart and even just remembering my stint as Amanda Wingfield, with the lights and the sound and the audience, well. I smile in warm remembrance.

YOU MUST CHOOSE

Suzanne (HI SUZANNE AGAIN) asked: If you were forced to endure eternity without hair removal services for ONE body part (this does not count your head or eyelashes (Nicole note: DAMMIT)) what would you choose to grow to luxuriant lengths? Now, I know that no one is actually going to hold a gun to my head, screaming YOU MUST CHOOSE, but wow, I gave this thought like that was going to happen. I am a near-daily leg-and-underarm shaver, a very frequent client of the lady who does my bikini sugaring (in fact, I see her tomorrow!) (god, remember when I tried to do my own bikini wax? Some things are best left to the professionals), and my eyebrows are a mess that require constant work, so I am going to say MY ARMS. You might think that is a cheat, but you would be wrong. I wax my own arms a few times a year, usually before a vacation. Hey, I’m half-Scottish and my body thinks it is still in the Highlands and must be kept warm via body hair. However, if I’m giving into one fuzzy part, it’s going to be my arms.

You Probably Think This Song Is About You

Suzanne also asked: What is your number one karaoke song? That honour belongs to You’re So Vain, which is my absolute favourite karaoke song, but last summer in Mexico I sang Before He Cheats and honestly, that was a blast too. If my friend Jen (HI JEN) is with me, I coerce her into singing Hold On by Wilson Phillips. One day I am going to serenade my husband with You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling, a la Top Gun. Some of you may remember my fortieth birthday, when one of my husband’s colleagues dressed up in my husband’s Top Gun flight suit (doesn’t everyone have one of those in their front closet?) (see also: eggplant) and started the serenade, becoming one of my favourite people ever and fulfilling the dream I’ve had since seeing the movie in 1986, in the Orpheum Theatre in Estevan with my cousins.

Boogie Shoes

Another fun question from Suzanne: What song would get you on the dance floor every time? There isn’t much that wouldn’t, but for sure anything disco would get my boogie shoes going. If there were girlfriends, or even female acquaintances nearby, I would be grabbing their arms and dragging them to dance if I Will Survive came on. But honestly, it doesn’t take much. I’d do a conga line or the hustle or YMCA or even get low, low, low. I need someone to invite me to an old-school wedding, clearly. I’m always happy to, as the Black Eyed Peas say, get it started.

Weekly Reading

After all those mysteries last week, this week I delved into more usual Nicole reading!

Dear Life. After talking about my favourite authors, I had a strong craving to read Alice Munro, and so I chose this collection because it’s one I have read only a couple of times before; most other collections I have read many, many times. This one is very interesting because Munro notes that the last four stories are not really stories, but more autobiographical reflections. Many of her stories contain elements from her own life, but these ones are specifically autobiographical, which I find fascinating. All of the stories here show the moment that a chance encounter or a choice occurs for the protagonist, and shows how life changes from that moment. This is something that I am genuinely fascinated by in my own, and other’s, lives. We are where we are in life because of choice and encounters, and it’s interesting to think of what could have been.

Home of the Floating Lily. Short stories? Check. Woman author? Check. Introduction to another culture? Check. Theme of ordinary life written in an extraordinary way? Check. This lovely debut collection checked all my boxes of things I look for in a book, and I really enjoyed it. This book deals with Bangladeshi people and their experience living in Canada, as well as their home country, and I am here for it. The title story was the one I liked the least, but I will be thinking about the story entitled All The Adjustments for a long time. It follows a widow who is living with her in-laws in Bangladesh, as is the custom. Her late husband’s brother brings a wife home to live – also the custom – and the new sister-in-law is Canadian born, half-Bangladeshi. The household changes on her account, and it is just such a good story. I am personally fascinated by arranged marriages. I think, like all marriages, that some work and some don’t. There’s no telling that arranged marriages are worse or better than Western “love matches,” I think. But I find it fascinating, the process and the idea behind it, and so I actively seek out books that discuss it.

The Jetsetters. Let me preface this by saying that I love my new Kobo; I love syncing all my library “shelves” and seeing books pop up. However. I guess I now have an algorithm based on the few e-books I have read, and the library suggested this one as I had read The Lifeguards by the same author. Here’s the synopsis: dysfunctional family goes on a Mediterranean cruise, won by their mother, and (spoiler alert!) gains an understanding of each other. It’s like having a sandwich for lunch: quick and easy, somewhat satisfying, will totally forget about it tomorrow.

Love and Saffron. Engie (HI ENGIE) and Lisa (HI LISA) both recommended this book, and it really is a lovely and sweet book made up almost entirely of correspondence between two women in the early Sixties. There is a large age gap, and they live in different places and have different lives, but they become close friends, supporting each other through difficult times. There is an underlying theme of food and the introduction of international cuisine and flavours, which I loved. The author’s note states that she based this on her own friendships, and people that she knew, writing this warm-hearted book during the pandemic. It’s just a light, sweet book that will make you smile.

If you have answers to these very fun questions, please feel free to share! I’d love to know what you’d karaoke or dance to, what food you could eat exclusively, and even what body part you would allow to get as fuzzy as fuzzy could be! Have a wonderful week, friends, and if you are being Polar Vortexed, may it be a mild one. xo

Someone Is Staring At You In “Personal Growth”

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Happy New Year! I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season. Mine was very restful and restorative, which was apparently just what I needed. I like to think of my life as a series of seasons, both Life Seasons – can I sail through the changing ocean tides, can I handle the seasons of my life –and Actual Calendar Seasons. For me, December is the Season of Indulgence and Light, and I enjoy it very much as such. I don’t think twice about the third glass of wine or the lovely dessert or the eight thousand cups of my mom’s delicious snack mix. It is, as Clark says when Audrey is frozen from the waist down, all part of the experience.

I also strongly believe in the concept of Balancing Yin and Yang, specifically that if one does not get enough Yin, or rest, Yin will be forced upon one, usually in the form of illness or injury. To that end, I noticed around December 22 of this year that my body and mind just felt tired. I do not think I have a particularly stressful or busy life, but I believe very strongly in listening to myself, and what I was trying to tell me was that I needed rest. I scaled way back on exercise, only walking Rex each day and nothing more, my yoga practice turned restorative, I slept a little more each day, and I watched movies and read books and worked on a jigsaw puzzle. It took about five days of that for me to start feeling more like myself.

On that note, January is, for me, the Season of Energy. I feel reenergized and ready to take on the New Year, with all its many changes that I am just not ready to talk about – time makes you bolder, children get older, I’m getting older too – and yesterday, I took on the task of taking down the decorations and tree, and deep cleaning the house. This is a highly satisfying job to me. I love having All Things Christmas in the house, but I also love the serene feeling of a perfectly clean – except for the paw prints that are constantly on the floor – house. The house feels so much bigger now, and Rex is no longer wagging cards or decorations across the room, while I scramble to pick them up.

Do you remember, years ago, a social media game where people would post three fictional characters, a mix of which represented their personalities? It’s a very interesting window into the psyche, seeing what people chose. For me, I think my personality can best be described as two parts Sally Allbright, and one part each Monica Geller and Buddy the Elf.

I am a person who, like a toddler or a dog, absolutely thrives on routine and ritual. I have mad organizational skills. I love scheduling my days and being in control of them, and figuring out how to fit in the activities and tasks that any particular day requires. In university and grad school, I would schedule my day down to the minute and I would not deviate from it. These days I’m not quite so particular, but if there is something that needs to be done, I am going to do it.

The flip side of this, of course, is that I can be mentally inflexible and I find sudden changes or schedule alterations or additions to be quite distressing. “I’m too structured! I’m completely closed off!” “But in a good way.” Spontaneity is not my strong point, to say the least, but I’m working on it.

This brings me to an Ask Me Anything question from my lovely, darling friend Suzanne (HI SUZANNE): You seem like you are really good at doing things regularly, if not daily: walking, yoga, reading poems, etc. HOW do you do this? Teach me your ways! Well, I am nothing if not structured! I have always been an early-morning person, and I started getting up early when the boys were very small; at that time I generally slept until one of them woke up, around 6:30 or so, and then the mornings felt very chaotic. Someone was always crying or needed breakfast or a diaper change, and the start of the day had me feeling frazzled. It was then that I started waking up really early to go to the yoga studio and practice for an hour. I needed that time to myself; when I got home the boys were just getting up and I felt much more able to cope with the constant demands that is life with little ones. Nowadays of course I don’t have those same demands, but I find that I feel completely unmoored without my daily practice; like I said, I thrive on routine and ritual, and although I don’t go to a studio anymore, my quiet, dark house is perfect for early morning yoga. Since the pandemic started, I have added reading a poem or reading just before my practice; it’s just ONE, so it doesn’t feel overwhelming, and then I can think about it, or not, if it doesn’t resonate, as I practice.

What I am saying is that all of the things that I do on a daily basis are things that I love and make me feel good, and I know that if I omit them from my day I will regret it later. I love being outside and walking, I love getting active and sweaty, I love yoga. Part of the Never Miss A Day is due to my Sally Allbright/ Monica Geller Overly Structured Personality, but some of it is my Buddy The Elf Do Things That Bring Joy personality.

This brings me to New Year’s Goals and Resolutions: I have none. Or, to be more accurate, I have no NEW goals or resolutions; all of mine are evergreen and ongoing. They are either highly specific daily/ weekly tasks, or incredibly unquantifiable states of being. Although, now that I think about it, I might vow to bake more cakes in 2023. I love cake.

Ooooh, maybe I’ll start a Julie and Julia-style blog series, but name it Julie and Nicole, and just bake every cake in this delightful little book. Stay tuned!

Reading: The Year-Long Books

The Daily Stoic. This is one of those daily readings I spoke about; in addition to a poem a day I read one page of this every day in 2022 and honestly, I cannot recommend it. It was absolutely perfect for me back in January, when things were so bleak and grim, because it’s all about controlling your own mind when the world is spiraling out of control. The world was indeed spiraling out of control and these daily readings reminded me that I could change only the things within my own control. It was perfect for that month, and then things went downhill. I found it to be incredibly repetitive and, when I got to December and the monthly theme was Facing Your Own Death, depressing. The entire month was well, we are all going to die, and honestly, who needs that reminder.

Speaking With Spirit. I absolutely loved Agapi’s Wake Up To The Joy In You, and this follow-up book about prayer was good, but not AS good. It was well worth reading – it’s a weekly read – and there was a lot of focus on gratitude and transformation, which I like. It’s important to note that to whom one prays is up to the reader; this is not a specifically-religious book, rather a spiritual one, which I also really like. One can offer a prayer to the universe, if one so chooses.

Should I take this as a sign that I need to deviate from routine?

Weekly Reading

Slouching Towards Bethlehem. This is such an interesting book of essays, mainly based on 1960s California. What a fascinating time and place! More interesting to me, though, was thinking about the nature of these essays, all of which were published in magazines and necessitated many months of on-the-ground research. Long-form journalism is still around but it’s just so dwarfed by our instant 24-hour news cycle. It was fascinating to read these of-the-moment essays and to think of the time put in. Feels a bit dinosaur-like now. The title essay deals with runaway youth in Haight-Ashbury in 1967 and it’s kind of horrifying, to be honest. These kids were so young, living in filth and completely high all the time; some of the older teens had small children, which was incredibly sad. I love Didion’s personal essays and the final one, Goodbye To All That, about her experience as a young woman moving to New York and then returning to California, was my favourite.

Weightless. I heard this woman speaking on a podcast – I think it was Forever 35 – and she was so interesting. This book is comprised of essays, and they are jaw-dropping in their content. Essentially, this woman has heart disease, which was not caused by her weight, but the medical community did not catch it because of her weight. She had weight struggles that started when she was a child; her treatment for severe asthma led to rapid weight gain which led to struggles within the medical community to see past her weight gain. It was the absolute definition of vicious circle. The book itself is tragic and hopeful and also really eye opening. 

The Happiness Project. My friend Elise (HI ELISE) asked if I’d read this, and I had to look at my spreadsheet to ascertain that I hadn’t! I thought I had but no. I have heard so much about Gretchen Rubin, but I haven’t actually read anything by her OR listened to her very popular podcast, so I was going into this completely fresh. So, a few things are all true at the same time: I enjoyed reading this year of monthly resolutions to increase happiness, late December is a great time to read about energizing oneself and vowing to be a better person, and also, about 2/3 of the way through I started to dislike the author. I will tread lightly here, because I know she is beloved by many, and please do remember that this book was written in 2009, and people change a lot in 14 years. I appreciate her honesty about her shortcomings that she wanted to work on, but I have a visceral reaction to people who describe themselves as naturally belligerent and argumentative. And negative. And sarcastic. To be fair, those the things she was working on, but you know what, once I got that visceral feeling I couldn’t un-feel it. Also, I found her tone to be a touch judgy and a bit repetitive. Even still, the book had a good message. None of it felt new or original but I think that’s because it was published so long ago and has influenced dozens of books, pieces, and blogs – which is indicative of its success. Overall, a good read. I am tempted to look into some of her more recent work to see what, if anything, has changed.

So here we are in a fresh new week, month, and year. I have decided to do the Apartment Therapy January Cure, so there will be lots of organizing and decluttering this month; I have a number of posts to write thanks to your Ask Me Anything contributions (and it’s still open, feel free to, indeed, Ask Me Anything!), and, most importantly, I have a big stack of books to get through this week! I hope you all have a fabulous week, this first week of January, and I hope you have resolved to be kind to yourselves first and foremost. xo

Fancy Festivities and Friends

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Here’s Your One Chance, Fancy, Don’t Let Me Down. Back in September 2020, when the kids first went back to in-person school after lockdown, my younger son told me that just walking through the halls and being around so many people made him really happy. I had that same feeling on Friday when my husband and I went to his company holiday party. I couldn’t stop smiling, just seeing other people all dressed up and looking universally beautiful. We are at a PARTY, I kept thinking, a HOLIDAY PARTY and everyone is DRESSED UP. I have no idea if this feeling of abject delight and wonder is going to continue throughout my life, but I hope it does.

It was so much fun, even if I am so unused to wearing heels that my feet were crying by the end of the night. What are you doing to me, where are our comfy shoes, what is happening right now.

We stayed at the party until TEN THIRTY PM and I wasn’t in bed until an hour later, and did you even know there was an 11:30 AT NIGHT? There is! I had prepared for this exciting and unheard of bout of wildness by doing two things I never do normally: I had a nap in the afternoon, and then I had a strong, caffeinated chai at 4:00 pm. WHEEEEEEE!

Last week I had invited all of you, my dear readers, to Ask Me Literally Anything, and I have had so many great questions that I will be answering in the coming weeks. My wild Friday night brings me to a question Pat (HI PAT) raised: I, like everyone else, am fascinated by you 4 a.m. wakeup. When you are on vacation, perhaps at your parents place, your lake house or a sunny destination, do you alter your schedule a bit? Maybe stay up till 9:30 and get up at 5? Well, Pat, on weekends I do sometimes sleep until 6 if I can! One thing about me is that my body seems to have a natural wakeup in the hour between 4 and 5, but on weekends or holidays I can usually lull myself back to sleep for another hour or two. I do try to stay up later when we are on vacation or visiting my parents, because it’s a bit ridiculous to go to bed at 8:30 when everyone is having fun and playing games. I thought maybe I could sleep in a bit this Saturday morning, but my son had a wrestling tournament and needed to be up by six, and although he drove himself to the school and is perfectly capable of getting through his own morning routine without his mother, I was still awake and drinking coffee by 6:05. You know how it goes, people.

And You May Ask Yourself, How Did I Get Here? I will be keeping the form open, mostly because I don’t know how to close it, so ask any questions you like. On the other hand, if you’re thinking really, I already know too much, that is cool too.

One question I did want to address came not from the form but from multiple comments about my Day in the Life post, with regards to teaching and practicing yoga. Some readers expressed surprise that I would practice yoga and then teach yoga in the same day, but those things are very separate to me. My personal yoga practice is a moving meditation, where I flow through postures – the Ashtanga primary series, with some additions and subtractions – doing breath work and ending with a nice savasana. I get on the mat every single day, even if it’s just a five minute seated meditation; I don’t feel like myself if I don’t practice. Teaching, on the other hand, is a different story: it’s work. I mean, it is fun work, and it is work that I enjoy, but it is work nonetheless. I am always “on,” and talking, and watching my students for cues that something is working or not working for them. I don’t focus on my own breathing, and it is not meditative in the least, because I am generally thinking of what posture we are going into next and how to include variations for students with a variety of old injuries and concerns.

I have been teaching many of my current students since 2017, so I have a good relationship with all of them, which I especially appreciated on Monday afternoon, when I was teaching my Strength and Tone ladies. We were in the middle of a downward dog when suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, my nose started bleeding, like that of a long-term cocaine addict. Such a thing has never happened to me before while teaching, and I hope it never happens again. When I say my nose started bleeding, I don’t mean a little trickle. I mean that I had to pause the class and it took TEN MINUTES to get things under control. Ten minutes is a very long time to be stanching a nose bleed, let me tell you. Fortunately my students are very kind and understanding, and were willing to independently use my tennis balls for some myofascial release at the wall while I went through every single tissue I had in my purse, and half the scratchy, recycled material paper towels that the community centre had next to the sink. I give my students homemade chocolates every year at Christmas, and I may have dropped a few extras in for these ladies, to thank them for their patience with my dramatically bleeding nose.

This Year, To Save Me From Tears, I’ll Give It To Someone Special. Last week I was having couple of down days; I felt mired in anxiety and worry about my children and their immediate and long-term futures, myself and my ability to handle Life’s Next Chapter, and also drooping sadness because it felt like everyone I was encountering was somehow yucking my yums. Normally I am a Que Sera, Sera Person, moving through life thinking we are doing our best, things will work out in the end, all will be well, and not being overly concerned if people don’t share my feelings about silly and fun things, but I just couldn’t shake my gloom. Part of this may have been due to the fact that I was short on sleep: one of the CO detectors’ battery died in the very early hours, waking me up with its incessant chirping even earlier than normal, and also that my Garmin was telling me that “it’s almost that time again!” which generally affects my sleep as well, in addition to my mood in general. I didn’t really need the reminder from my Garmin. My feelings of despair towards humanity were reminder enough, not to mention my giant swollen breasts that were spilling out of all of my yoga tanks.

My very dear friend Hannah who I love very much (HI HANNAH) somehow knew how I was feeling and sent me this, while I was standing in line at the post office, which in itself contributes to angst and despair:

It immediately turned my mood around; it made me so happy, and feel so seen. On days that I don’t get enough Last Christmas, I have been pulling out my sheet music and playing it on the piano. I am enjoying the fuck out of it.

Then, I came home to open a package sent to me by my dear friend Elise (HI ELISE), and I think I may have blacked out with excitement for a moment when I opened it.

Longtime readers will remember my obsession with the Sears Wish Book, and you just cannot even begin to imagine how exciting this was to receive in the mail. How did I get so lucky, to have such incredible friends? What an incredible gift! Thanks Elise!

This One’s For Becky. Back to the subject of music, I was driving home from the grocery store, listening to 70s on 7 – HI SUZ, the only other person I know who listens to that station – and Coward of the County came on. Let me just say that a) my parents were big Kenny Rogers fans, and b) I know the lyrics to almost every song I was exposed to more than once from my very young childhood to today, which means that probably 90% of my brain is song lyrics. If I could free up my brain power from remembering all these lyrics, I could probably cure cancer or something. Anyway, I hadn’t heard Coward of the County for many years but I still cheerfully sang along. Wow, that is one upbeat tune, given the grim nature of the song. Gang rape! Murder leading to lifetime incarceration! Generational trauma! I remember singing this song as a small child, which is unsettling to think of. Small Nicole, with her little bowl cut and her 70s clothing, singing Folks just called him Yellow! Son, you don’t have to fight to be a man.

I was likely singing and/ or talking in this photo, but it’s unlikely it was Coward of the County. Probably it was a Christmas song, or maybe just a stream of consciousness about the ornaments. Who can say.

Weekly Reading

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes. This seems like a bit of a morbid topic – the death/ mortuary/ funeral industry – but it is actually quite beautiful in a weird way, about honouring dead bodies and death rituals. I have always wondered about things like expensive caskets and the like, in a WHY kind of way. This was fascinating but not for the squeamish! One of my nephews is interested in pursuing a career in this industry, and reading it helped me understand the motivation.

Thanks For Waiting. This was an interesting concept for a memoir, from the cohost of Forever 35, one of my favourite podcasts. Shafrir talks about being a “late-bloomer,” achieving all those life milestones much later than all her peers, from tweenhood on. It goes from life as a writer in mice-infested NYC apartments, to living and dating in LA, to marriage and the incredible heartache of infertility treatments. It’s incredibly honest and brave, and I could hear her voice as I read this.

The Holiday Breakdown. You know I love a holiday romance, and this was just so delightful and fun. I smiled the whole time I was reading this sweet story; the main character was so fun and charming. The author cohosts Were You Raised By Wolves (two podcast-host books in a row!) and I could feel her warm and delightful personality shining though.

I hope you have a lovely week ahead of you. Maybe some festivities, as well? If you have some Heel Worthy Events, may I suggest some prophylactical Advil? That is, if you can get it. xo

Three For Thursday: The “Do You Remember The (very first) Night of December” Edition

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She Puzzled And Puzzled ‘Til Her Puzzler Was Sore, Then Nicole Thought Of Something She Hadn’t Before. Happy December! One of the very most exciting things about December First is the start of Advent calendars. I don’t know about you, but for me, growing up in the 80s, Advent calendars as they are seen today just weren’t in existence. Nowadays there are hundreds, maybe even thousands, of different kinds of Advent calendars – chocolates! booze! tiny samples of cosmetics and skin care products! hot drinks! and more! – but when I was a kid, there were two kinds: the cardboard ones in which you opened a door to reveal a Christmas-themed picture, as seen on Christmas Vacation, and the kind that your mom might buy in the grocery store after much pleading, which contained a centimetre-square of waxy chocolate in the shape of stockings, trees, and, on Christmas Eve, a star. We had both kinds, but the chocolate ones I had to share with my two brothers.

All of which is to say that my Very Pampered Family enjoys the Very Fancy Lindor calendars, and no one has to share, because Pampered. I have always wanted the excitement of my own calendar, but a chocolate one did not appeal to me. You would think that, being me, I would love a cosmetic or skin care calendar, but no. Samples are wasted on me because I stick with what I like and I don’t love to deviate, especially for just one day. Last year I bought myself a tea calendar, which was an utter failure; with maybe three exceptions, I hated the flavours.

So when I saw this puzzle calendar at Costco – at the beginning of October, but if you know anything about Costco, you snap up what you see because you may never see it again, and indeed I have NOT – I knew this was the calendar for me. A daily puzzle! Featuring DOGS. In SANTA HATS. If there is a more perfect calendar, I do not know what it is.

It’s A Wrap. My older son was so excited when I got home the other day, to tell me that Spotify Wrapped was out! This is a big day in the Boyhouse, let me tell you. I immediately opened the app to see my top songs and artists, and it was just as amazing as I thought it might be. I never have any idea what song I have listened to the most over the year; it is a constant surprise.

I absolutely love that my top song was Everyday People by Sly and the Family Stone, followed by i by Kendrick Lamar. I mean. I feel like this says something about me. Midnight Train To Georgia was last year’s number one song, so I wasn’t surprised to see it – I do love that song – but who knew I listened to You Can Call Me Al so much? I did not! Rounding out the list is the Marshall Tucker Band, which probably tells you a lot about the eclectic nature of my playlists.

My son is very put out that Spotify Wrapped only goes until October 31; that’s two MONTHS of data that is missing in a year. To be honest, it’s probably good because once November 12 hits, I play nothing but my Nicole Christmas playlist, which has 97 songs on it but many are just different versions of the same song. For example, I have five versions each of Baby, It’s Cold Outside (no, not the modern one, I prefer the weird hey what’s in this drink version) and Last Christmas (naturally). There are three versions each of Driving Home For Christmas, Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas, River, This Christmas, and Santa Baby. I have four Little Drummer Boys, as well, and several other duplicates. This doesn’t even take into account the Jazzy Christmas, Mellow Piano Christmas, Michael Buble Christmas, and Charlie Brown Christmas that are in constant rotation. In other words, should November and December be included, my data would be very skewed.

I Got Mugged. The lovely and kind Elisabeth (HI ELISABETH) sent me a beautiful package for the #SecretSantaMugSwap2022, hosted as always by the wonderful community builder San (HI SAN). Just look at these wonderful treats! What a joy to delve into. Thank you so much, Elisabeth! I am especially intrigued by Hot Honey, and in fact I may start calling my husband Hot Honey. Or insist that he call me that. We shall see! I was thrilled with each and every item in this very fun package! December is Fun Mail Month, and I feel like Elisabeth has started things off with a bang.

Speaking of my wonderful, supportive, and inclusive blog community, so many of you participated in NaBloPoMo, where bloggers post every day in the month of November, and many of you did Ask Me Anything posts. To be honest, I had a little bit of FOMO; I wanted to do one of my own, but I thought it would be better for me to wait until December, when the flood of posts faded to a mere stream. So do you have questions for me? Fill out this form! I will answer them to the best of my ability! I have no shame! Literally anything!

Congratulations to all of you NaBloPoMo participants! What an accomplishment by you all! I know one of you in particular is quite sad it’s over – HI ENGIE – and I thought of you as I wrote this, on December 1. I thought you may never speak to me again if I didn’t include a few fuzzy photos, so don’t worry, I will not disappoint my readership. Happy December, everyone. Baby, it’s cold outside here, so I hope wherever you are you are cozy and warm. xo

Rex will not share his doughnut with you, so don’t even ask.

Rex loves to lie in the corner where the tree is currently residing. His second choice is to wedge himself between the table and the wall. Maybe he thinks he’s a gift under the tree? If so, he’s right. Best gift ever.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The 10th Anniversary Edition!

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This month marks the tenth anniversary of Nicole’s Favourite Things! A whole decade of writing about beauty products, clothes, food, and the occasional gadget. Two things: a) wow, I have been writing this blog for a very long time, and b) looking back at my very first Favourite Things, I still have all of those tops.

Ah, summer. I have been working very hard for this past year to really Embrace The Season, but here we are in my actual favourite season, so no hard work is needed. I love summer. I often idly wonder if I would actually miss seasonal changes if I lived somewhere like Maui, where it’s just one long summery paradisiacal day after another. Maybe I would? But it’s hard to imagine.

In my first Favourite Things, I expressed my love for summer clothes, and summery beauty products, and produce-heavy salads for dinner with berries for dessert. I still love all of those things and I probably always will! If I lived in a place where it was always summer, would I miss my sweaters and boots? Would I miss hearty winter meals and moisturizers for chapped skin and lips? Like I said, maybe, but it’s hard to imagine.

Anyway, that’s neither here nor there. The point is that I am Embracing The Hell Out Of Summer. When it’s sunny and warm, I just want to be outside all day long, and feel mild resentment when I have to go indoors. I have been like this my whole life; maybe I’m solar powered.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The 10th Anniversary Edition

Non-Psychologically-Scarring Skirts and No-Bra-Required Tank Tops

In honour of my first Favourite Things, I am going to talk about skirts with shorts attached and yoga tanks with built-in shelf bras. These are Enduring Favourite Things, and I have many of the same skirt and top but in different colours and patterns. What can I say, if it works, it works. Listen, living in Calgary there are, annually speaking, approximately 20 days total in which wearing light summery clothing is appropriate. That’s probably a high estimate, actually. The upside of this is that good summer clothing can last forever, as the chance to wear it out is limited. The moment the temperature rises above a certain point, which would probably be considered chilly for my Southern friends, I don a skirt. I think they are cute, and they are very practical with the shorts underneath; I never have to worry about accidentally psychologically scarring random passersby or, more likely, my own children when the wind picks up.

I also love a good yoga tank with a built-in shelf bra; this is a thing that works for me mainly because I am, how shall we say, not exactly overly gifted in the chestal region. I wear these year-round, as a layer mostly, but on warm days they can stand alone.

Talk To Me Goose

My love for Top Gun is well-known; I have loved it since I walked to the theatre with my cousins and older brother in Estevan, Saskatchewan, in the summer of 1986. To this day I remember my outfit on that sweltering prairie night: jeans and a pale pink, tie-dyed, off-the-shoulder short sleeved sweatshirt, despite the heat. I was smart enough by that time to realize that the one theatre in Estevan boasted air-conditioning, and let me tell you, they wanted you to know they had air-conditioning. It was always freezing, and if you were naive enough to wear summer clothing to an evening show, you would be blue by the time the movie ended. Anyway, back when Hannah, Allison, and I cowrote a fun nostalgic blog (HI HANNAH HI ALLISON), I wrote one of my favourite pieces ever, about Life Lessons From Top Gun.

All of which is to say I love Top Gun, and I love the NEW Top Gun as well. Do not ask me to tell you which one is “better.” That is an impossible choice akin to the one Sophie made, and I will not make it. In any case, my husband bought me this shirt, and I love it so much:

It must be worn with aviators. It’s a law.

Pedicures and Sandals

In the summer I swap my boots for sandals, but because I am 47, my sandals need to be of the utmost comfort. Who has the energy for painful footwear anymore? I have found Skechers sandals to be the cutest and most comfortable of all the sandals. These are my favourite, and they are good for walking too:

But I also love these sparkly slides, perfect for the days at the lake:

I have heels for the rare occasion that I need them:

I keep my feet groomed throughout the year; being a yoga teacher my feet are on display constantly, so regular pedicures are a must. I used to exclusively do my own pedicures, but there is the cutest little nail salon just down the street from me, and their prices are fabulous. With each pedicure they give a hot stone massage AND they exfoliate using orange slices, which I love. I still touch up my polish between pedicures, but I definitely go to the salon more frequently in the summer.

Lettuce Pray and Flower Power

There is a great line in Sorrow and Bliss, when the husband acquires a plot in the community garden, and he says that they will now be self-sufficient, in the area of lettuce. I feel seen. I am currently self-sufficient, in the area of kale, as we just had our third cutting. I’ve also had two cuttings of Romaine, and although my leaf lettuce has been very very slow to grow this year, I am expecting to be able to cut it next week. At least, I hope so. Harvest time! I get so much joy out of gardening, it’s unbelievable. It feels like a superpower: do you like this salad? I GREW IT MYSELF.

The first of the roses bloomed – I grow John Cabot climbing explorer roses, explorer roses being the only ones I think are sufficiently hardy to survive our winter temperature fluctuations. This is always exciting as the first one is quickly followed by a wall of blooms.

Let The Spinning Wheel Turn

This week marks my two-year anniversary of the arrival of my Peloton! It was, without a doubt, my very favourite thing to come out of 2020. I know the bar is pretty low, but still. On the actual date of my first ride – which is this Sunday – I plan to revisit the same class I did then, a 45 minute disco ride with Leanne.

It has been a really fun way for me to increase my cardio fitness, and it is measurable: that first 45 minute ride, my output was 277. My usual output these days for a similar class is around 400. If you know, you know! Do you have a Peloton and want to be Peloton friends with me? If the answer to that is YES, my leaderboard name is NicoleBoyhouse.

Wistfulness and Avocados

I have two favourite links this month, both summery in their own way. The first is from my longtime, beautiful, smart, and all-round lovely bloggy friend Suzanne (HI SUZANNE). Suzanne wrote about how you can’t go home again, and the piece, like her, is beautiful, smart, and all-round lovely.

My other favourite link is from a newer blog friend, Jamie (HI JAMIE). Jamie wrote about toxic diet culture, body acceptance, taking up space, and avocados as a metaphor for our bodies. I love a good metaphor and I love a good avocado, but most of all I love her message, particularly in the summer when we are inundated with images of “beach bodies” and “bikini bodies” and what have you.

There’s so much to be grateful for in the summer, there is so much to love, but I particularly love and am grateful for YOU, my dear readers, for being here and for listening to a decade of Things that are my Favourite. 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

Move Over, Sansa; 110 Weeks In

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It was only a few weeks ago that I was marvelling at all the Christmas decorations in the neighbourhood; lights and Santas and candy canes alongside the brown grass and spring bulbs. It turns out my neighbours know what’s what.

Santa’s coming! In only eight months.

Oh, you guys, we got so much snow this week; it really felt relentless. It was the kind of heavy, soft, wet snow that causes chaos on the streets and possibly heart attacks for shovellers. I went to the grocery store and passed a school bus, completely stuck in the snow, with a couple of kids inside as the driver tried to make her way out of her predicament, but only became more and more stuck. Let me tell you, as someone who has had her car stuck in the snow more than once, I felt for this driver. She kept doing the thing that feels instinctive but is the exact thing that you should absolutely not do, gunning the engine. She kept doing this, the wheels spinning and the bus becoming settled deeper into the snow. Who among us, right? Except that most of us are not doing this in a school bus with children inside. I really emphasized; if I were that driver, I would be a sobbing mess.

That wasn’t the only bus with such issues. My kids told me that there were many absences at their school, probably due to transit issues, and when they went to buy lunch, the Subway shop was closed, probably due to no employees making it to work.

Friluftsliv, right? I went for my walk and discovered that the walking paths were – not surprisingly – unplowed, but I stoically decided to soldier on. Do you want a good leg workout? Wade through eight inches of thick, heavy, wet snow.

Me: It’s just snow, it’s so pretty, it will be fun! Nature! Also me, ten minutes later: My god, what am I doing with my life.

The weather, obviously, was not conducive to outdoor running, so as the first few snowflakes fell on Friday morning, for the fourth day that week, I decided to go to the gym. This was my scene when I got home.

Do I live in Winterfell now? Am I the Queen of the North?

Did you ever watch Game of Thrones? What a crazy show that was, and how disappointing was that ending? Given the show’s general theme, I just assumed that it would end, Sopranos-style, with a blackout and everyone dying, perhaps with the world blowing up. I did not expect such a neat little package tied up with ribbons.

Back when I was watching it, I never knew what was happening. Half the time it was too violent for me to watch and so I’d cover my eyes or leave the room, and the other half, well, I just didn’t know what was going on. I mean, it is a fairly complicated show with so many characters and backstories, and so I was constantly texting my friend Hannah (HI HANNAH) with questions every thirty seconds. Who is this guy? What is with all the horses? Where did they come from. OH MY GOD HANNAH WHAT DID THEY JUST DO TO THIS GUY. Oh, he was bad? Wait, he’s the guy that raped all those women? Oh. Wait, who’s THIS guy and why can’t anyone kill him? Oh, he’s immortal. Hannah deserves a medal for patience with me – “No spoilers but, um, don’t get too attached to that character, Nicole.” – and maybe one for valor. (Wait, how did he get killed? They skinned him alive? Oh.)

One thing about a snowy, grey day is that it motivates me to get things done around the house; on Tuesday I had several phone calls to make and appointments to arrange, none of which I wanted to do, but I decided to JUST GET IT ALL DONE. What is it about making appointments that makes a person want to lie in the fetal position and cry? And yet. I was, in my humble opinion, a BOSS. I started with a phone call to the orthodontist to arrange for a new retainer for my younger son; the only time I could get in conflicted with my sons’ previously scheduled doctor appointments. No matter! A broken retainer trumps an annual checkup. I phoned the doctor and rescheduled, then, feeling like I was on a roll, made eye appointments and ordered extra contacts for my son, and then called our insurance company about some changes to our auto insurance. I felt like I was ON FIRE, checking off everything on my list.

Speaking of appointments, last Friday the boys had dental appointments, and two weeks ago I had called to confirm them. Remember my dentist and the plethora of reminders? Well, I had an email reminder AND a text reminder for one son, but not the other, so I called to confirm, to make sure they both had appointments at the same time. Perfect, everything was in order. That was fine until this week: the dentist emailed me, texted me, and – when I did not respond within ten minutes – PHONED ME to confirm Friday’s appointment. I assured them that the boys would be there as scheduled, but also? I had already confirmed two weeks ago? “Oh,” the woman on the phone said, “This wasn’t marked as confirmed.” At this point, I had, in a two week span, two emails, two texts, and a phone call, and apparently so had my husband.

I discovered that little nugget of information on the day of the appointment. I had another text, another email, AND my husband called me to say “Do the boys have a dentist appointment today? I keep getting emails.” OH MY GOD, DENTAL OFFICE. WE WILL BE THERE. Listen, I realize that people forget their appointments, the dental people have a job to do, but no one in this household has ever been late or forgotten a dental appointment. Is there no way to NOT send a dozen reminders to the households who have never been late or forgotten an appointment? No, I know there isn’t. I know there is no way but I WISH THERE WAS A WAY.

I also wish the snow would melt so I could do some work in the yard and garden, and I might just get that wish this week. Do other people constantly refresh their weather app in the hopes that it will yield a favourable forecast, or is it just me?

Pandemic Reading

No Presents Please. I really thought I would like this a lot more than I did. This is a collection of short stories, set in Mumbai, about everyday people with their everyday lives. This is normally one hundred percent my jam, and I did like some of the stories, but mostly I found them dull and unnecessarily convoluted.

What If This Were Enough. This collection of essays – about living in the present, about eschewing consumer culture, about living mindfully and fully – is thoughtful, intelligent, and nuanced. I agree almost totally with the sentiments – ALMOST, not totally, do NOT throw shade at Marie Kondo, not in my hearing – but I can’t help but feel I would have enjoyed it more if I had read it when it was published in 2018. The pandemic and age has changed my perspective, so it didn’t TOTALLY resonate with me. Most of it did, but there was a little part in me that internally rolled me eyes at times. Am I becoming a cynic in my middle age? I hope not.

The Secrets Between Us. This is the sequel to The Spaces Between Us, which I loved loved loved and raved about previously. It is a very satisfying sequel, and I was so happy to read the two so close together. It deals with women and their lot in life, friendship, hardship, choices, and connection. I didn’t love it as much as the first one, but I did love it.

I just refreshed my weather app, again, and it looks like – maybe? – it is not going to snow this week! We shall see. Have a lovely week, my friends! xo