Category Archives: Pro-Aging

Forward March

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It’s a strange phenomenon that, no matter how long I’ve been away, it always takes the same amount of time to catch back up on life, which is two solid days. Three weeks, one week, four days: it’s all the same. It’s similar to Rex’s reaction to my return whether I’m picking him up from the pet resort or I’m coming back from grocery shopping: the extreme excitement is just the same.

Speaking of grocery shopping, I was at Superstore this week, and in the deli section I spotted Arlene. Arlene and her friend Adele walk three times a week on the same route that Rex and I often do; they are older ladies who always have a bag of dog treats with them for the pups they encounter. Of course, they adore jolly old Rex, and so I have had many interactions with them over the past year or so.

I approached Arlene to say hi, and she looked at me blankly. I realized that this was an out of context meeting, and so I said maybe you don’t recognize me without Rex! She had a strange look on her face, and said no, that’s not it. She reached out and touched my hair very gently and said you just look so…different. Your hair…

I started to laugh, realizing that she had never seen me post-shower, with clean hair and a full face of makeup. Normally she sees me in a toque, with only a swipe of mascara and tinted lip balm, because that is the minimum makeup I will leave the house in.

Someone else looks different around here, and that someone is Rex. It seems we have been catapulted into spring around here: we left in the snow and came back to spring weather, which is lovely. It also means that we are now firmly in Mud Season. Rex hadn’t been groomed since before Christmas, and because this is not my first Pet Resort Rodeo, I had booked him in to the groomer’s the day after we got back. That was not a minute too soon as he was, to put it mildly, filthy. But now he’s soft and velvety, and his paws were a pristine white for a new record of 15 hours.

Since we got home very late on Tuesday night, and since there is a three-hour time difference between here and Cancun, and since I really didn’t get a whole lot of restful sleep on my vacation due to continuous over imbibing of fun beverages, I was dragging last week. It reminded me of a question posed to me by Suzanne (HI SUZANNE), which is Do any eye creams/anti aging serums actually WORK? Or I guess I should ask you which ones do YOU use because you look fabulous. Well, colour me flattered, my friend! I will take that compliment happily, even though last week I felt much less than fabulous. Much, much less. In any case, I have a lot of thoughts about this question.

I think the word “work” is kind of relative, and that there are three big things to remember: a) as my older son told me a few months ago, you cannot stop the forward march of time, b) there is nothing that you can apply to your skin that will reverse what lack of sleep, lack of hydration, or too much hydration in the form of alcohol will do to your skin, particularly that under the eyes, and c) no cream will ever be the same as a surgical or cosmetic procedure. I will never forget the fancy retreat I was at with my husband’s work: I was speaking to a couple of lovely women who were from Houston, and when they revealed that they were five to ten years my senior, I gasped. Your skin is so fabulous! I said, Do you use a retinoid? Or something else? They looked at each other, and then at me with extreme pity. Oh honey, one said, Creams? Don’t waste your money. What you need to do is go to a doctor’s office.

So those are the caveats to what I’m about to discuss. I’m not interested in going to a doctor’s office, and while I drink a ton of water and prioritize rest, I am not going to give up my weekly wine or cocktail. And of course time takes its toll on us all. However! I do think there are some products that do help slow down the progress toward Apple Doll Face or, as I sometimes feel, The Crypt Keeper.

First – and I never think this needs saying, but then I hear anecdotal evidence that it DOES – wash off your makeup every night. Never go to bed with makeup on, it ruins your skin. It doesn’t matter how, it just matters that it is done.

Second, use a night cream. I currently use three different ones: Neutrogena Retinol Pro Eye Cream and Night Cream, and Cerave Hydrating Serum. These retinols mean business, and advertise that they are “not for beginners.” What I’m saying is that these are probably not appropriate for sensitive skin, but there are thousands of such products out there, the key is putting something on consistently each night after washing.

I am about to blow your mind. I recently discovered that the optimal way to apply undereye cream is to work from the OUTSIDE IN, using only your ring finger. I know! I had always gone from the inside out, but I do think it makes a real difference. It is not like the lines will disappear entirely, but as esteemed beauty editor Val Monroe so elliptically said, the lines around my eyes are the least unbeautiful ones. I will leave you to unravel that sentence.

Third, apply something for daytime. I like The Ordinary Caffeine Solution for under my eyes; it supposedly helps with puffiness and dark circles, and I think that’s moderately true. I also use The Ordinary Matrixyl 10% for my forehead and marionette lines. Doesn’t “marionette lines” sound so much nicer than the reality? I have recently switched from Smashbox’s Original Smooth and Blur primer to Resurface Smooth and Renew. I haven’t used it long enough to really report back on any changes or improvements, but what I have been using for at least three years now is Ilia’s Super Serum Skin Tint in SPF 40, and I love it.

Does any of this do anything for my skin? Empirically it’s impossible to tell as there is no control factor here; I’m not doing half my face to see how it fares compared with the product-free half. But it does make me feel good about myself. Yes, I look like I am almost fifty, because I am.

Speaking of the forward march of time, my husband and I watched the movie Conclave on the weekend, and this is remarkable for a number of reasons. I rarely watch movies because I am almost always bored or I fall asleep halfway through. I was interested, though, since we were recently in the Vatican, and also my husband read the book and enjoyed it a lot. This in itself is a weird role reversal, as he knew the entire plot of the movie; typically he is a person who wants to know nothing at all that is going to happen, whereas I need every spoiler possible. But it was a really good movie and I enjoyed it immensely.

How this ties in to the forward march of time is that in the first scene I gasped is that Ralph Fiennes? He’s such a good actor, but my main memory of him is from The English Patient. It’s strange to think how many times I watched that movie, given its length. What a sexy movie it is, filled with actors who I had – and still have – immense crushes on. Colin Firth! Willem Dafoe! Naveen William Sidney Andrews! And, of course, Ralph Fiennes, who had played such an intense and sexy character, hoo boy. His performance will flood the basement. I always thought, and still do, that Count Almasy would be great to have a hot and steamy fling with, but terrible to be in a relationship with. Imagine! You’d ask the guy to pick up the kids from school and he’d stare at you intensely; you’d be like oh GOD, we cannot have sex right now, the kids need to be picked up from school. “Honey, can you fill out these forms for the school?” “I do not WISH to write my NAME.”

Anyway, it was odd to me to have a picture of Ralph Fiennes in my head and then be faced with Ralph Fiennes now, thirty years after The English Patient. It would be like if I time travelled from 1995 to now and looked in the mirror, expecting a line-free face with a few errant pimples, a dark brown Rachel haircut, and super perky breasts to see myself now. Imagine how startling that would be.

Also startling was the music at the resort we were at last week. There were so many boppy dance remixes of beloved songs, like Eye in the Sky, for example. I love the Alan Parsons Project but it was a bit bizarre. The strangest by far was a cheerful dance remix of Wish You Were Here. Imagine Did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage, but with a fast paced techno beat. I think the only song that would be stranger remixed in such a way would be Everybody Hurts.

I got so much reading done on that holiday, between humming along to the dance remixes of Your Song and Both Sides Now, so look for a book post later this week. Until then, happy March everyone! Take care of yourselves. March forward. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Entering My Tankini Era Edition

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About four months ago I was purposefully striding down the hall with my arms full, heading for the donation bags I had set up in the laundry room. My older son was home at the time and observed my unusually stern expression. Whatcha doing, Mom? he asked and when I informed him that I was DONATING all these BIKINIS that don’t SUIT me anymore, his face became a study of concern and compassion. Oh, he said, oh MOM. Are you okay?

Well, I was okay and I am okay and the wonderful thing about having an emotional breakdown over one’s wardrobe and donating over a third of it in November is that, as my husband pointed out in an uncharacteristically Pollyanna-ish way, Black Friday and Boxing Day are both right around the corner.

Technically speaking, all the bikinis do still fit me. I could wear them, I could. I strongly believe that anyone who wants to wear a bikini should wear a bikini, but the thing is, I don’t anymore. I just don’t feel comfortable in them, and I don’t want to expose my softened and expanded midriff. I kept all the bikini bottoms except two tiny scraps of material which historically toed the line between swimwear one can swim in and exposure hazards; both items have not only edged over that line, they have gone off the high dive and are now at the bottom of the proverbial pool. I prefer not to exit the water showing everyone in my vicinity the sugaring job on the old honeypot, and so those bottoms went into the donation bags, along with about ten little tops.

My go-to store for swimwear is La Vie En Rose, and they were indeed having both Black Friday and Boxing Day clear outs, and I ended up buying six tankini tops, a couple of very high-waisted bottoms to replace the Danger Zone ones, and three coverups, all for less than $160. Can you believe it? Huge bonus, La Vie En Rose is a Canadian company, which is something I consider very seriously these days, the aggressive international political situation being what it is.

Speaking of which, I returned very late Tuesday night from a week in Mexico, for which I was motivated to acquire the aforementioned swimwear. I feel a kinship with the Mexican people and all things Mexican for reasons which I am sure you can discern. Of course it was a wonderful trip, and I enjoyed myself immensely, but something in the air felt very tense and awkward. I wasn’t poolside chatting with many strangers, let’s put it that way.

Anyway, you didn’t come here to listen to my unwritten but intense anxiety about my country being annexed and what would happen should that occur. You came here for Favourite Things, and Favourite Things you shall have.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Entering My Tankini Era Edition

Colour Me Beautiful

As everyone knows, my go-to colour, in swimwear and everything else, is black. To that end I did purchase mainly black tankini tops in different styles, but I did bravely branch out at the sight of two handkerchief tops for $10 each, one in green and one in a green and blue pattern. I’m not about to start dressing in jewel tones, or patterns for that matter, but I did feel very pretty in these two items.

Black is still my favourite, though.

It occurs to me that you might be wondering why not a one-piece? and my answer to that is simply no. One-pieces never fit me well and I find them extremely uncomfortable, in a wedgie/ camel toe way, not to mention the washroom problem, similar to that posed by the wearing of a jumpsuit. How does one use the washroom in a one-piece without the one-piece touching the disgusting floor beside the toilet? It’s untenable!

Caribbean Queen

A good swimsuit is key for me, as I do like to swim in the ocean. I like pools too, but the ocean! The Caribbean is absolutely perfect for swimming; it’s warm and gentle and perfect.

But You Can Leave Your Hat On

I love the heat but I don’t love being in the sun; I am very careful about my skin, particularly on my face. I took two big floppy hats with me; they both are easy to reshape after being folded up or crushed into a beach bag.

They both feature chin straps, which come in handy if that ocean breeze means business.

Black Hole Sun

I use sunscreen – Neutrogena 60 Dry Touch – even in the dead of winter, and so you can imagine how careful I am about application while in the tropics. Since we are Carryon Only people, I need to be smart about packing liquids. Stick sunscreen is an incredible invention, and I have two that I’d like to mention here.

Shiseido is absolutely great; it goes on so clear that I only applied it in front of a mirror to ensure I didn’t miss any spots. The downside is that it’s very expensive for this teeny tiny stick, and it feels like way more plastic than I like for the amount of sunscreen that I got.

My sweet friend Joy (HI JOY) works in this great little environmentally responsible store, and I saw this when I went to visit her. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say this is the best sunscreen I have ever used, in terms of efficacy and scent. It is mineral but it doesn’t leave much of a white cast once it’s rubbed in, which is really remarkable. The container is plastic-free as well, so I feel like this is a little-known winning product.

Winner, Winner, Avocado Dinner

One of the many activities offered by the resort is a guacamole-making class. Although we both have made guacamole many, many times, my friend Jen and I thought it would be fun to join (HI JEN). At the end of the class, we were all given chips and asked to present our guacamole in an artistic way, and after the judging we would be able to eat it. Here’s what my plate looked like:

Who knew that my humble offering would be the winner of the Great Guacamole Contest? Certainly not me, but it was.

I think I won for two reasons, neither of them to do with actual guacamole. First, I was the only person attempting to speak Spanish. Second, Jen and I were the only people who weren’t obnoxiously yelling during the lesson, and then complaining about having to wait ninety seconds to eat their guacamole, or just eating their guacamole after saying that they weren’t going to wait for anyone or anything. Nevertheless! It doesn’t matter what the metrics were, I WAS THE WINNER!

After the class Jen and I enjoyed our guac, and washed it down with our favourite mango margaritas.

Outfit of the Month

As I have mentioned before, a huge percentage of my Little Black Dresses were victim to the Great Closet Purge of 2024. Happily, I found some cute ones in the November/ December sales, and this one is my favourite:

It feels very sexy and swishy and, crucially, it isn’t tight in the waist. It came from Ricki’s, another Canadian company, and I paired it with my extremely comfortable, extremely cute Skecher sandals.

I am the early bird of the group, and every morning I got up in the dark to find us all poolside lounges and to watch the sunrise. Most days looked like this:

But on our final morning, the sunrise was so startlingly beautiful that I almost couldn’t stand it.

I hurried down to the beach to watch the colours reflect off the water.

It was like Mexico was saying goodbye to me. How grateful I was to be able to experience that.

Speaking of gratitude, my sweet friend Elisabeth (HI ELISABETH) asked me to write a guest post on just that topic; I would love it so much if you checked it out. It would be my Favourite! I hope you were also able to find a lot of Favourites in this month; I know it’s been hard lately. I hope you are all well. What did I miss when I was gone? Tell me everything about your lives. xo

Those Days Are Gone Forever

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Typically I am a person who likes to finish jobs in a reasonable amount of time, the exception to this rule being putting photos into albums. I have photos from January 2024 and on that I have printed, but that are still awaiting their placement into the albums that have been purchased for the purpose. It is a weirdly overwhelming job.

Other than that, I generally finish tasks fairly quickly, which is why it is notable that as of this week I completed something that has taken me since November to get through, and that is a closet purge.

I feel like I just did this; late last spring I threw all of my jeans into a big pile, and replaced them all with styles that boasted infinite fit and promised no more muffin top. I wasn’t happy having to do that, buying all new jeans, but I felt it was a worthwhile investment to have pants that fit and were comfortable.

It turns out that the jeans were just the thin edge of the wedge, so to speak.

I have a strict rule about my clothes, and that is that I want to feel beautiful – or at least cute – in every single item. You might think that is a tall order for workout wear and gardening clothes, but I stand by it. If I don’t feel cute, I stridently tell myself that it is the fault of the clothes, and that those non-ego-boosting items have no place in my closet, which should be a safe space of love.

This is great in theory, but in practice there is a big problem, and that is that it turns out I am very emotionally attached to a number of items, specifically my collection of little black dresses.

I went through the five stages of mourning for all of these items, as I tried them all on with increasing distress. At first I denied it was happening, even while I struggled to pull them over my newly-strong-and-juicy booty and to zip over my newly-disappeared waist and softened tummy. Then I was angry, I was angry about all those beautiful clothes that no longer fit, on which I had spent a significant amount of money over the years. One might rationally say that I most certainly got my money’s worth out of dresses and sweaters that were not even bought in the last decade, but rational thinking has no place here.

This led to bargaining, which is the most shameful part of the story. I wondered what I would have to do to be able to zip up that adorable sheath dress. I ignored my inner voice that was reminding me that bodies change over time and it is a perfectly natural and beautiful part of life. I looked at myself in the mirror unhappily and thought about shapewear and giving up wine. Giving up wine! This is what crossed my mind, friends. It was a dark moment.

This led to depression. Intellectually I know that it is unreasonable and probably not even desirable to hang onto clothes for decades, but I was really sad that my cute dress I bought at Jacob in 2009 no longer fit. It saw me through so many occasions! I was sad the black and white polka dot dress I wore for my son’s grade nine graduation no longer flattered my shape and I was devastated that the dress I bought for my husband’s company Christmas party in 2017 was unzippable. I remembered how beautiful I felt in all those items, and it was the opposite of how I felt now, and it felt very, very sad.

Then I felt sad for being sad. I mean, shouldn’t I be beyond this by now? I’m almost fifty! I told myself I was being ridiculous and that I had no right to be sad; I should be celebrating my body for what it is and what it can do, not judging myself on whether or not I could feasibly wear a fifteen year old dress without the seams exploding. And then I would look at the stuffed-full bags heading for the donation centre and feel sad all over again, after which I would be angry about being sad, and suddenly I’d be experiencing the first four stages of grief once more, the snake is eating its tail.

In a way, it reminded me of a day many years ago, when I found myself pushing a double stroller through the mall. I walked past my then-favourite store, the long-defunct aforementioned Jacob, from which I had purchased the majority of my clothes for many years, mostly office wear and the like. But that day, when I walked past the store and saw the gorgeous slim pants and blazers and skirts, I realized that that store was no longer appropriate for my life. I looked down at my two babies in the stroller, at the gigantic diaper bag stowed in the back, and at my jeans and casual sweater and low-heeled boots, and I had a Saint Paul on the road to Damascus-style realization. I realized that I would never again find myself in those kind of clothes with that kind of life, and I burst into tears. I would never trade my children for anything, I would never make a different decision with regards to my career path, and yet with the one-two arrival of my children I had never actually said goodbye to my old life. I had never allowed myself to mourn that former self and her daily clothing choices and so there I was, crying in the mall.

Those days are gone forever, I should just let them go.

Well, there were a lot of hormonal new moms in the mall, likely no one would have noticed one more, and in any case no one did. Back then I was awash in postpartum hormones, these days I am bouncing around in perimenopause; it feels like two sides of the same coin. A new era is upon me, and in a radical act of acceptance, I bought new clothes.

The majority of this existential clothing crisis occurred in November, which was fortuitous; my husband pointed out in the most positive way, this is the best time for this to happen, because Black Friday is just around the corner! We stan a supportive king, as Heather McMahon says. Just to provide a little balanced insight into my marriage, though, that supportive king also said For god’s sake Nicole, if you keep this up you’re going to turn into C. This is in reference to our crackpot former neighbour who would mutter non sequiturs about weeds and other people’s pets while garbed in much faded neon outerwear from 1985, as well as her merch from the Calgary Olympics. Everyone in the neighbourhood avoided conversation with her because it was always completely unhinged, and also it was hard to not look at her wildly swinging braless breasts underneath her Blues Fest 1991 tees.

But he was right, honestly, because it’s a slippery slope from thinking a nine-year-old item is practically brand new to wandering around the neighbourhood frightening people with your weird monologues about street sweeping. Plus, new clothes are fun, particularly new clothes that don’t make a person feel constricted or unattractive or that destroy one’s self-esteem. Embrace the season! And this is my season of comfortable pants and dresses without tight waists.

In a radical act of self-acceptance, and also a full-on copy of Marie Kondo, I said goodbye to my clothes and dresses. I thanked them for their service, as I piled them in garbage bags. I told them that I hoped that they would make someone else happy, that they would find themselves at a special occasion someday, and that they would make their new owners feel beautiful and special.

And in a radical act of honesty I will tell you that during those same Black Friday sales, I also purchased some shapewear.

Weekly Reading

The Divorce. There are two sides to every story, and this book – translated from Swedish – explores the lives of two people getting divorced after 32 years. What seems like a sudden and snap decision is actually a long time coming, and it was both interesting and terribly sad to see the nuances of something that happens every day. It reminded me not to judge, because we never know what goes on in someone else’s marriage. Fun fact: the translator has the same name as one of my great-grandmas! Thanks to Pearl (HI PEARL) for the recommendation!

This Time Next Year. This was a very fun rom-com about two people born three minutes apart on New Year’s Day 1990. The first born wins the prize for “First Nineties Baby,” and the second, Minnie (HER NAME IS MINNIE COOPER) feels her life has been jinxed forever. She does have some truly bad luck on New Year’s Eve, and the two live parallel lives without knowing it…until their joint thirtieth birthday, when they finally meet. Capers ensue! It’s really delightful but also interesting because – let’s do the math – their thirtieth birthday is January 1, 2020. Much of the book takes place in 2020 but because it was published pre-March, there is no pandemic. It actually made the book more delightful, a sliding doors, if you will, but without the soul-crushing reality of 2020. Thanks so much to Ariana (HI ARIANA) for introducing me to this lovely author’s works!

I hope you all have a lovely last week of January! Rex and I have been enjoying the Canada geese – from a distance – and he enjoyed barking at a coyote until it ran into the partially-frozen creek. We later saw a dead coyote on the side of the road and boy, do I hope it wasn’t the same one and that Rex was inadvertently responsible for its demise. But look at that face. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Trick or Treat Edition

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I never really understood Anne Shirley’s feelings on October until I moved here. It is so beautiful right now, I can barely stand it. The colours are gorgeous, and every day is a little bit different. I’m becoming slightly unhinged, talking about leaves to my family every day.

I mean, I am stopping perfect strangers on the street to talk to them about fall colours, which isn’t TOTALLY out of line for me, but I am starting to become a tiny bit concerned about my sanity. Also I’m starting to worry that people are going to recognize and avoid me from here on in.

For the first time ever, I will not be celebrating Halloween in the traditional sense, and so I’m a little early this month, talking about my Favourite Things! Some of these things are tricks, some are treats, and some are both.

Gourds, Decorative and Otherwise, Motherfuckers

You guys, I grew my own pumpkins!

Cute, right? Have you ever seen a more perfect pumpkin? There’s more where that came from, in addition to my massive haul of butternut squash.

And, of course, more zucchini.

I could not resist the siren call of the motherfucking decorative gourds. It’s the season, motherfuckers!

Fruit Is Nature’s Candy

As I mentioned a few weeks ago, grape harvesting is done, and so I have thoroughly enjoyed my own backyard Concords.

There is so much incredible fresh fruit right now, and my favourites are pears and apples. A neighbourhood girl was selling plums from her own backyard trees to raise money for the Terry Fox Foundation, so of course I had to buy some.

But the apples, my god, the apples. I cannot get enough of those delicious, tree-ripened McIntosh apples. I’m eating two or three a day right now. I may turn into an apple. HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES.

These apples are delicious! As a matter of fact they are, she said.

The Other Kind of Grape

We live at the bottom of a vineyard; we own, along with my mother-in-law, two acres of it, but the rest is owned by the founder of Tantalus Vineyards. What you may not know is that those vineyards were owned by my husband’s family until my late father-in-law sold them to Tantalus twenty years ago. They still have a block named after him, and they still have the Old Vines, planted by him – and my then-teenaged husband – in 1978. The winery is, therefore, a place I like to visit, particularly when we have out-of-town guests, and so I took my parents there for a wine tasting.

I love their homegrown Riesling, but I REALLY love their Syrah. The Syrah grapes are not grown on the adjacent property; instead they come from just south of here, and sadly they, along with 95% of Okanagan grapes, were decimated by the cold snap we had here in January. Yes, you read that right: 95% of ALL wine grape crops in the Okanagan were destroyed, which means that there will be little to no 2024 vintage. People, if you love Okanagan wines, get them now while you can.

I was disheartened to hear that of 110 Syrah grape plants, from which this wine is made, 108 are gone. You can bet I’m going to savour these wines that my dad bought for me, because it will be many years before they are available again.

Just An Ordinary Girl In An Ordinary World

On a less-apocalyptic note, let’s talk about Ordinary products. I have been using this line for a few years, ever since my wrinkle-less friend Denise (HI DENISE) told me about them. I have loved their caffeine undereye serum, but I branched out and bought the multi-peptide one, and I really think it’s made a difference.

I also bought Matrixyl for my forehead wrinkles, and while I don’t think these are miraculous, dermatologist office substitutes, I think they work pretty well. Things don’t seem to be getting worse, and sometimes the status quo is the best we can hope for.

Ghosting the Blessed Life

Whenever someone visits my house for the first time, there is a guarantee that they will comment on the volume of bananas on my countertop. I don’t blame them; as a family we go through a vast amount. I personally go through fourteen bananas a week, entirely in smoothie form.

My breakfast smoothie is made up of cashew milk, nut butter, a frozen banana, and a ton of spinach. I always feel great after consuming it; it’s a nutrition bomb full of vitamins, fibre, calcium, and iron.

The one thing it’s not super high in is protein. I mean, yes, there is protein involved, but I don’t feel it’s enough to adequately fuel my very active, plant-based lifestyle. This means that every lunch I make myself a smoothie with protein powder, cashew milk, and yet another frozen banana. It feels like a milkshakey treat, and I look forward to it. I used to buy the Protein Works vegan line, but it was a) expensive, and b) only available in the US or UK, and so I was always paying exchange rates and shipping. I decided to branch out and I’m so glad I did.

Ghost vegan protein powder tastes exactly like a delicious chocolate milkshake, not too sweet or cloying, and it has a perfect, non-gritty texture.

I’ve tried a few of the Blessed flavours, to much disappointment. The chocolate, usually a safe flavour for me, is frankly disgusting, and the strawberry isn’t much better. The chocolate coconut is okay, but this! This vanilla chai, which sounds like a risky choice, is really, really good. Once in a while I’ll even use it instead of nut butter in my spinach smoothie and it works great.

Outfit of the Month

It’s my Fall Uniform!

Suzanne (HI SUZANNE) recently was talking about buying multiples of the same clothing item, which is a very relatable topic. I have bought three pair of the Infinite Fit Silver jeans that I spoke about last month – they are stretchy and comfortable and, amazingly, don’t lose their shape. They fit like a more-structured yoga pant. These ones are the straight cut, which I like to wear cuffed with booties. The sweater is just a light old one from the Gap, and the tank top underneath is from Lululemon, both about six years old. I wear some combination of jeans, boots, and a black – or, if I’m feeling saucy, grey – sweater, often with a tank underneath, basically every day. Why mess with the uniform?

As previously mentioned, I won’t be celebrating Halloween in the traditional sense, and that is because I’m going on a big adventure! To that end, I will be taking a blog break. I can’t wait to tell you all about it, sometime in November, but until then, take care of yourselves, friends. Treat yourselves tenderly, and maybe treat yourself to a few treats as well. Or tricks! I don’t judge. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Zucapocalypse Edition

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

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

I’ve Been Itching To Tell You About This

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

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

Is That A Zucchini In Your Pocket Or…

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

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

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

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

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

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

Feeling Fried

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

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

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

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

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

Tea (Towel) For Two

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

I mean. What could be more appropriate?

It’s true. I do.

The Hardest Part Is…

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

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

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

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

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

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

Outfit of the Month

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

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

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

Waisting Away

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Weekly Reading

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

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

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

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

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Landscaped Edition

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

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

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Landscaped Edition

Perennially Pretty

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

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

Colour Me Colourful

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

Berry Happy To Just Veg Out

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

Plus a healthy dose of cilantro:

And basil:

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

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

Just Thelma, No Louise

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

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

Me, watching a movie.

The Vulva Shaped Soapbox

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

Simply Irresistable

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

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

Outfit of the Month

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

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

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