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Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Fall Fruit and Fashion Edition

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It has been one of those “Lemon, it’s Tuesday” kind of weeks, for no particular reason. Nothing has been happening out of the ordinary, which, these days, ordinary is kind of extraordinary, but there has been nothing I can put my finger on to indicate why this week has felt extra long and strange. All I know is that I’ve been mentally a day ahead of the actual day every day this week.

Hooray, it’s Friday! I have big wine-and-Greek-salad plans tonight, and my husband and I are watching the final episode of the first season of Ozark – late to the party, I know, but I’m terrible at committing to actually watching a show. He’s been asking me to watch it with him for over a year, and I guess I’ve capitulated. We have been watching one or two episodes on weekends ONLY because I find it pretty disturbing to my sleep cycle.

Also hooray, we have been having the most BEAUTIFUL September. It’s really a crap shoot around here; September can be brutally cold and snowy, but this year it has been absolutely warm and gorgeous, with only a couple of frosty mornings. The fall colours are in full swing, and as I said to a gentleman I passed on my walk the other day, any September without snow on the ground is a great September.

Anyway, it is almost the end of September, and I promised myself I would keep my monthly Favourite Things going all through this pandemic – although “pandemic” now feels like “forever” or “this is life now.” In other words, it’s time for…

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Fall Fruit and Fashion Edition

Before I get to my Favourite Things, I am going to introduce you to Barkley’s new Favourite Thing. First, some background. Out here on the prairies, what passes for fruit is the pathetic cousin of the glorious apple, known as the crabapple. There are crabapple trees everywhere and although some intrepid souls actually harvest those sour little things and add ten pounds of sugar to them to make them into a jar of semi-palatable jelly, mostly they just litter lawns as people desperately try to give them away before raking them up and putting them in their green compost bins.

Our next-door neighbour has a crabapple in his back yard, and squirrels are constantly picking them up, eating small amounts of them, and then dropping them in OUR back yard, underneath our stand of spruce trees. For Barkley, this is like a mix between Christmas morning and winning big in Vegas. For weeks now, he has been mysteriously missing from sight in the yard, only to emerge from the trees with an apple in his mouth.

A few weeks ago, I mentioned to my husband that Barkley was smellier than usual, but other than terrible gas that would have us all opening the windows, he was fine. That was when we discovered the Apple Bonanza, which happens every year but I seem to forget about it/ block it out.

He’s eating so many apples that he’s actually gaining weight, and although we do have to keep his weight down for arthritis reasons, I don’t have the heart OR the time and inclination to run outside, duck under the trees, and clean up any stray apples every time Barkley goes outside. Well, he’s twelve, and might as well get some enjoyment out of the fall, and in any case, apple season will be over soon, the snow will be here, and winter will have us all pining for these colourful, albeit smelly days.

These Apples Are Delicious; As A Matter Of Fact They Are, She Said

All of which is to say, it’s Apple Season in the Boyhouse too! It officially started Wednesday when there were a few expensive Macintosh and Honeycrisp apples at Superstore. I LIVE for Macintosh season, and although the selection was poor and the cost was $2.39 per pound, I bought a few. I was a LITTLE salty when the lady across the street told me later that day that the Co-Op around the corner had Macs for sale for $0.99 per pound; the sale had been going on for the entire week and was OVER by the time I got there. I could have been eating not only Macs for a week, but $0.99 per pound Macs for a week! Time AND money lost.

Well, we can’t live in the past, and in any case, I am eating them now. Some of you might view Apple Season as the time to make pies and crisps and applesauce, but as you know, for me, that is a grievous waste of an apple. I shall gorge until the season is over.

This apple was so good I almost cried.

Pears, Plums, and Nectarines

Some of you in warmer climates – I’m looking at you, Gigi and Suz (HI GIGI HI SUZ) – might not think of these as fall fruits, but here, if I obtain a fruit in September, it’s a fall fruit. I bought nectarines three weeks ago and they were so delicious, I almost didn’t buy them again, for fear they wouldn’t be as good. I’m glad I DID buy them because now they aren’t available. Plums are my husband’s favourites, so I’m adding them here even though they aren’t mine.

Pears. PEARS. I love pears and I only eat them at this time of year because I find them gravely disappointing any other time. The only problem, as I see it, is that we have to buy them so green, and then they all ripen at once. I mean, it’s not really a PROBLEM, per se, more of a pear-binge. With four fruit-hungry people in the house, they don’t last long.

Pears, I find, are not unlike avocados in that they take a while to ripen and then you have to strike while the iron is hot. Again, this isn’t really a problem.

The Middle-Aged Woman Look (Scarves, Sweaters, Flats, and Boots)

A few years ago, a woman I know said – and not in a friendly way, but in a disparaging, nasty kind of way – that the way you know a woman has hit middle age is that she starts wearing a lot of scarves and flats. The woman went on to say that SHE embraces her heels and low-cut tops and honestly, good for her. You do you, lady.

However, I love flats and I love scarves and there is a very limited time of year here that one can actually wear a scarf and a sweater and call it a day. I mean, you still can, but while outside the wind is often so powerful that scarves either unwrap themselves or threaten to strangle you, and a sweater is insufficient for the chill. Lately though, we have had a few days where it HAS been still and mild enough to go out with a sweater and scarf and pretend that we are living in a glorious climate and not one in which we are waiting for the other (flat) shoe to drop.

God, I love a good scarf. I think they are so pretty and snuggly. I haven’t reached the Nora Ephron stage in which I feel “bad about my neck” although sometimes, when I see photos, I do think my neck looks like a weirdly striated tree trunk.

I’ve embraced the long swirly drapey sweater look for a while now, and I find – and this is a topic for another day, a big topic – I love them even more because they smooth out the, how shall I say this, softening of my abdomen. But as I say, that is a big topic for another day, how perimenopause affects your body no matter what.

As for flats, I used to be a die-hard wedge heel girl, but now I just feel more comfortable, fast, and getting-my-steps-in with flats. I do still have a few low-heeled boots, but for the most part, my shoes are pretty flat. I have reached the stage in life where shoe comfort has taken precedence over shoe style. I guess that is because, god willing, I am now middle-aged.

Actually, I hope to live to 100, so I’ve got five years to go before I hope to be in TRUE middle age, but I don’t want to tempt fate.

Those are my favourite September things, what are yours? xo

Bizarre Even For These Days; Twenty-Seven Weeks In

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This has been a bit of a bizarre week, starting with a phone call cancelling an appointment due to an unbelievably scary accident, happily segueing to a midweek birthday, followed by a letter summoning me to jury duty, and then finishing with a pre-dawn visit from the fire department due to our carbon monoxide detector going off. Happily, there was no carbon monoxide leak, the screaming detector was, apparently, at the end of its life span. Thanks for letting us know so dramatically, carbon monoxide detector! Your replacement has been installed.

I was scheduled to get my hair cut this week for the first time in six months, and when I heard the voice mail from my hair therapist’s colleague advising that she needed to rebook my appointment, the first thing I thought was She’s Got Covid. During the brief greetings I waited to hear the words, only to listen instead to the awful details of my hair therapist’s husband’s accident that entailed airlifting, and intensive care, all in another province, and with the usual difficulties around Covid protocol, after which the colleague cheerfully said, “So I have to rebook your cut and colour!” At that point, it seemed like the least important thing ever, and I told her so, as she pencilled me in for later this week. “Wow, thanks for being so understanding, you’re being so GOOD about this!” the colleague said in a voice that made me wonder: what are OTHER people doing? Are other people NOT being understanding? What is happening to our society?

I’m going to go out on a limb and say something that might be strongly disagreed with: this pandemic has been GREAT for my hair. I know! I know. For one thing, as we all know, I’ve been colouring at home and saving so much time and money, it is not even to be believed. I picked up a couple more boxes of Garnier at Superstore and they were on sale for $4.99 each, plus I got PC Points; more about points later. Four dollars and ninety-nine cents, people. The other part about the pandemic is that after not cutting my hair for six months, it has grown out beautifully. Pro tip: if you want to grow out your hair, stop cutting it. It’s true that I need a trim, as the ends are pretty dry and damaged, but I love the length. A while back I wondered if I should grow it out or not, and the decision, like so many others, was taken out of my hands.

The above were taken at the end of February and the middle of March, so you can see that my hair was above my shoulders at the time. This is from the weekend:

With mask-wearing and yoga teaching, I have my hair in a bun a lot, and it’s so much easier to put it up with the extra length; in other words, I don’t need twenty bobby pins to hold it in place. I’ve decided to follow in the footsteps of my good friend Denise (HI DENISE) who gets a professional colour semi-annually, and my friend Nicole (HI NICOLE) who gets a cut the on that same schedule.

In addition to my long, not-exactly-luscious-but-definitely-convenient Covid hair, I have developed Efficiency Skills when it comes to grocery shopping. I have never before received so many Gifts With Purchase as I have during this pandemic, and I am just now, twenty-seven weeks into this, that I am calming down about Buying All The Things. There are not many shortages of food or other necessities, and so I have finally relaxed about having backups of staples such as pasta or flour. ONE backup is all that is necessary, although I still have three bags of flour in my pantry purchased in the spring, which should get me through to Christmas at least.

I was at Superstore for my weekly shop, and you know how there are some employees who are REALLY good and dedicated when it comes to their jobs? I appreciate that so much. I remember when I waitressed in university, a customer said to me “You must really love your job! You’re always smiling!” I agreed, although I did NOT love my job. I mean, have you ever worked in a restaurant? It’s hard. Smiling was just part of the job. So, I really appreciate when others, no matter what their job is, embrace it, which is why I felt lucky to have the most cheerful cashier ever this week, who exclaimed over the quality of my produce, like I actually grew it myself and didn’t just pick items from a bin. “Do you collect PC Points?” she asked and I scanned my app for her. “You can use your points when you shop to get good deals, and don’t forget to check back every Thursday for your new offers!” I paused for a moment, imagining a world in which I did NOT spend time figuring out the offer algorithm, and subsequently making my weekly list based on when I was most likely to get points and for what items, and what I would get points for the following week, a world in which I did NOT wake up Thursday mornings and think, yay, it’s PC Points day!, a world in which I did NOT text my husband excitedly to tell him my points balance. Instead, I just nodded and said “Yes, you bet!” God bless that cheerful employee. I’m going to seek her line out next week.

As a runner, I always smile in solidarity when I see other runners in the street or pathways, even when not running myself, which probably means that I am perceived as the Crazy Smiley Lady much of the time. Well, I have become appreciative of a good smile, since we are masked so much of the time. Anyway, I was out walking Barkley, doing our forty-minutes-to-go-merely-two-kilometres pace, and I saw a young man running on the street perpendicular to me. I slowed our already-not-exactly-super-sonic-speed so that he could pass with lots of room, when I noticed something odd: he was not wearing shoes. He was perfectly clad in what I would call Real Runner Wear: a tidy ball cap, a sweat-wicking sleeveless tee, and running shorts. All that was missing was shoes. And socks. I watched him go up the street, making great pace, occasionally looking at his smart watch and occasionally brushing gravel and debris off his feet. What even. What is happening here.

So it has been a surreal week, more so than normal, but there was delicious cake, and some good books, and a smokey but lovely long walk with a friend.

Pandemic Reading

As soon as I finished this I went to the library app and bookmarked all of Emma Straub’s other books; this was SO good. Again, the slice-of-life book is the type I love best, and this had to do with adult sibling-and-parent relationships, families, and finding love.

My longtime friend Tracy (HI TRACY) recommended this book and it is FASCINATING. From Vietnam vets to survivors of child abuse, this book examines how trauma changes our brains and also our physiological makeup and also explores different therapeutic approaches to working with traumatized people.

Well, hello to Monday and I’m looking forward to what will hopefully be a less bizarre week. Take care, stay well. xo

Like A Half-Birthday But Less Festive; Twenty-Six Weeks In

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So, for those of you who are counting, 26 weeks is exactly half a year. Six months of this pandemic! Back in March, six months felt like The Worst Possible Scenario. Now it is Just Life and I don’t think at all at how long this will go on; no one knows and speculating isn’t helpful.

This is where having a blog pays off; I look back and see the evolution. I think we have all gone through the five stages of grief, on a number of different levels, and I am now firmly in the Acceptance Stage. Happy Half-Birthday to the pandemic, I guess. Over the last six months I’ve gone from drinking a lot of wine and eating mini-eggs to frantically cleaning and reorganizing my laundry area and every other part of the house to learning how to teach yoga online to colouring my own hair and giving myself a bikini wax (WE’RE GOING TO NEED MORE WAX).

When the pandemic first started, only the most paranoid of us were wearing masks; that quickly changed and now I am leaning hard into Mask Fashion, coordinating my masks with my outfits.

Back in March and April, grocery shopping was the most harrowing, depressing, and soul-sucking activity; I remember feeling absolutely drained after a Superstore trip, and scheduling a whole day so that I could wait outside, in the cold, to get into Costco, and then feeling so disheartened that I would have to repeat the whole thing over and over again. Now, grocery shopping is just grocery shopping, still some things missing on the shelves but nothing really to write home about, unlike in the earlier months when we were all panicked about toilet paper, flour, yeast, and – for a few strange weeks at our house – baking powder and sauerkraut.

Speaking of which, I have discovered a huge downside to the boys being back at school and that is I have to bring the groceries into the house all by myself. What is this bullshit. For six months I have strolled into the house holding only a jug of milk or the bag with the bread and eggs, and commanded everyone to bring in the heavy bins, and now I, I am the one bringing in those heavy bins, this is an outrage. Groceries aside, I have barely lifted anything for six months, including but not limited to the laundry basket, outdoor chairs, and clothing donation bags. If the school shut-down lasted longer, it’s likely all my upper body muscles would atrophy completely.

The boys just finished their first week of classes; I am thinking week by week and one day at a time when it comes to school. They all wear masks – they are mandatory everywhere here – and although my older son tells me that “social distancing doesn’t exist,” well, we are doing the best we can. I mean, there is only so much physical space in a building, and there are 2300 kids, so take a deep breath, mask up, and wash hands.

It’s my thought that the kids are way better than adults in adjusting to a different world. It is my younger son’s fifteenth birthday tomorrow and on Friday afternoon he celebrated with friends, his usual “hangout” group. They had massive amounts of food in our back yard, always keeping distanced from each other, and when they weren’t they put on masks, even though they were outside the whole time.

The boys finish school at 1:00 on Fridays, and so the party started at that time and went until 6:30 pm, not before five large pizzas were consumed in addition to all the baked goods. Strangely enough, my son had an online math test to do on Friday “any time between 1:00 and 11:00 pm” and so he settled into his test after his friends left. Does that seem strange to anyone else? Well, I’m not criticizing. Finally, finally, FINALLY after years and years of filling out forms until my hand seized up, the school has taken to online forms. I guess they don’t want germy plague-ridden papers coming into the office, and although I don’t really think anyone’s catching The Covid from paper, I am not questioning anything. How many reams of paper have I gone through in my life, filling out the exact same thing over and over? How many Septembers have I spent rubbing my ink-stained hands as I fill out my phone number over and over, signing my name until it doesn’t look like my signature anymore? The biggest bonus is my sons are filling them out themselves, although I was a little taken aback that my younger son put in my husband as “Parent One.” I am usually Parent One! I’m the main contact! When I said this to him, he said “Oh, I thought it went by age.” Well.

This week I have gone back to teaching in-person classes at the community centre; I am now teaching two online classes and two in-person classes per week. It feels a bit strange after a six-month hiatus to see people again, but I will say this: if I contract Covid, it won’t be from that. The community centre is very strict: hand sanitizer before entering, one (masked) person at a time allowed in the lobby where we take off our shoes, there are x’s on the floor to mark where mats can go, and the x’s are three metres apart, and we leave via the emergency exit door so as to not run into anyone coming into the centre. My students don’t wear masks when actually practicing yoga, but I wear one to teach, and it isn’t as hard as I thought it would be.

Six months seems long, but it’s really a just a blip. I’m trying not to think ahead to the next six months and the long winter on the horizon, instead buying more warm clothes and taking things a day at a time. At least the masks will keep our faces warm.

Pandemic Reading

This book was, frankly, bizarre. I thought it sounded like a funny concept: man has an affair, so his wife decides she is going to have her own affair to get even, and is thrown into the new world of dating. But…the underlying theme of the book was stay married no matter what because divorce is awful and hey, we all make mistakes. I thought of googling the author to see if she is a fundamentalist Christian, but I guess I don’t care enough about it.

I have NO idea why I put this on hold at the library. Did someone recommend it to me? Was I drinking and library app-ing? Who knows. This was fine, not enjoyable but not terrible. It was very repetitive and gave advice like instead of flipping out when someone doesn’t change the toilet paper, just discuss your needs instead. I mean, that’s probably sound advice but I didn’t really need a whole book about it.

Six months, you guys. We can do this. xo

Science Is Magic; Twenty-Five Weeks In

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I, Too, Get Cold When It Is 72 Degrees Outside

As my husband and I were out for our daily constitutional, an older lady in a fabulously bright pink jacket was walking down the sidewalk towards us. I stepped off the sidewalk to give her a two-metre bubble, and said “Oh! I LOVE your pink jacket!”

My husband said I sounded exactly like Buddy the Elf, which put me in mind of the old Twitter game, back when Twitter was fun and not a toxic cesspool of inhumanity, where you would describe your personality using three characters from popular culture. Mine are, without a doubt, Sally Allbright, Monica Geller, and, obviously, Buddy the Elf.

What Day Is It Even

To familiarize the students with new health and safety protocols, and to ease all the teens back into the classroom after a nearly six-month hiatus, last week the boys went back to school, one morning each. Grade Tens were in on Tuesday, Elevens on Wednesday, and then nothing after that until classes resume tomorrow. Add that to a long weekend in which my husband miraculously did not work and a visit to my parents for an early birthday celebration for my younger son, and I am more confused than ever about the days of the week. I feel really discombobulated, more so than normal. I mean, today is MONDAY. And it’s also a holiday. And it’s also freezing cold, complete with icy rain, in a “hello, it is now fall” kind of way. So far, the snow has held off but it’s COLD. I’m glad I “harvested,” as I am pretty sure my herb garden is not going to survive this.

It’s Sweater and Boot Season

There are a few warm and sunny days in the forecast, but mostly we are transitioning back to socks, boots, and sweaters. Despite my reticence to say goodbye to summer, it’s kind of fun to go through my sweaters again, after a whole two months without them. Shopping my closet, that’s my game.

Also matching my masks to my outfits.

Whoa-oh-oh It’s Magic

I have a beautiful Pandora necklace that is probably ten years old; I haven’t worn it for years as it had completely tarnished and blackened. It hung in my jewelry box, and, frankly, I forgot about it until a couple of weeks ago, when it caught my eye.

I looked up easy ways of cleaning silver and discovered the most amazing, incredibly simple way of doing it. First, line a bowl with aluminum foil and set the piece of silver in it, making sure it’s completely touching the foil. Bring water to a rolling boil on the stove, measure out the boiling water, and add one tablespoon of baking soda for each cup of water. Pour that mixture over the silver and wait for the magic to happen!

You can actually see the chemical reaction take place, you can smell the sulphur. I left it all to sit until the water cooled enough for me to put my hand in to take out the necklace, so probably 25 minutes. Rinse off the silver, and voila.

Magic! Or, more accurately, SCIENCE.

Pandemic Reading

This was incredibly eye-opening, terrifying, sad, and yet very hopeful. I actually didn’t know who Trevor Noah is, as I have never watched The Daily Show, but I’m glad it was recommended to me.

Oh, this was so good. I have always loved “slice of life” books and this one, set in Jerusalem, is an incredible look at female friendship with one of the most complicated political backdrops. Warning: this is not a CHEERFUL story, but it is incredible, so well-written. I resented doing literally anything else but reading this until I finished it. Fun fact: the author used to live in Calgary! Why? Who knows! But she did.

I know so many women who loved this immeasurably. I really loved the messaging, I admire her humanitarian work, and a lot of it resonated deeply with me. However, I did not love the writing style. I wasn’t at all surprised to see that Elizabeth Gilbert is her friend and mentor, as their styles are very similar.

I was one page into this when I realized I had read it before, back in 1998 when I was in grad school and someone lent it to me to take a break from economics texts. It was certainly worth a reread though! It’s good to have 22 years of a different perspective.

Photos taken before the weather change! Hope you have a great week, everyone. Stay safe. xo

One Day More; Twenty-Three and Twenty-Four Weeks In

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Summer’s Almost Gone

School starts TOMORROW, and at this time every year I have feelings of melancholy and why-is-time-so-fleeting and landslide. I would say that I am having those feelings on steroids this year. Despite everything, we have had a really good summer; last week the boys got back from their annual camping trip with their dad, and said that they have had the best summer ever. The best. Summer ever. In 2020.

A habit I’ve established during this pandemic is reading a poem every morning before my yoga practice, and then during the yoga practice I meditate on an aspect of that poem. Last week I read this by Mary Oliver:

The present is what your life is, and you are capable of choosing what that will be. I love that. I guess if my boys can think that Summer 2020 has been the best summer of their lives so far, I can march forward into Fall 2020.

Both boys will be in high school, and they have a lot of health and safety protocols that make me feel as comfortable as I’m going to feel. Although every time I turn around someone is raging “But HOW can they POSSIBLY (fill in the blank: social distance, eat lunch, have gym or drama class…)” and I have to just take deep breaths. They will do their best with mandatory masks and eating lunches in designated classrooms and sanitization stations; they won’t have lockers, or change rooms and tote boxes for gym, which should be interesting. Take a deep breath and jump in, is what it feels like.

The masks arrived!

Small Non-Pandemic-Related Grievance

Last week I learned that my Garmin watch automatically resets after 150 days of a movement streak. I discovered this while running on Friday; my watch congratulated me on my FIVE day step streak, when it was really 155 days. Well. This is a good opportunity to practice non-attachment and remember that this is just a fun gadget, not something that is dictating my life, all evidence to the contrary. Om.

Super Exciting Grocery News

While I was on vacation, my dear friend and soul sister Janet (HI JANET) texted me to let me know that after a two year hiatus, Costco is once again stocking the 34 ounce jars of sundried tomatoes. I am not sure I can adequately convey my excitement at this news; I have been buying the Much More Expensive, smaller jars of sundried tomatoes at Superstore, with which I make my pasta sauce for our Monday night meal. As soon as I was home I hightailed it to Costco.

That should hold us for a while.

In addition to that, after months of not having giant rolls of parchment paper, those were back in stock. When they went missing a few months ago, I went into Pandemic Panic At The Disco and started stockpiling parchment paper from Superstore, thinking that would be the next thing that would be completely unavailable, and that upset me more than the difficulty finding baking powder, back in April. Long story short: I now have enough parchment paper to see me into the spring of 2025, give or take.

Vacation

I was so burned out prior to our vacation. I was just emotionally exhausted; being everyone’s Emotional Support Person was really draining me. My goals for our vacation were as follows: sleep, go for walks and runs (BECAUSE I DIDN’T WANT TO BREAK MY STEP STREAK WHAT), read a lot of books, and drink wine. That is exactly what I did.

We also had some beach time with my sister-in-law; her apartment complex has a private beach which was deserted during the week. It also happened to be about 38 degrees, so that was perfect.

Pandemic Reading

I got so much reading done on vacation, which I’m glad of, as my library pile was actually fairly daunting. It’s still daunting but that’s because I have become a Weird Book Addict who can’t seem to stop putting things on hold and picking up three extra books every time I go to pick up a hold.

This was interesting: a trend forecaster sees a movement toward less technology and more actual communication and physical contact and touch. Meanwhile her boyfriend is part of an antisex neo-sensual movement. It is especially interesting to read NOW, as we are all not allowed to touch one another and my god, I miss hugging people.

A psychological thriller, and I won’t say more than that for fear of spoiling.

This was about one of Iran’s most famous women; all about poetry and feminism in a place and time that was not friendly toward women.

Just a fun, light read about a heavy topic: cancer.

Another book about cancer; I guess the man who wrote this is very famous, which I didn’t know when I picked it up. It’s very sad and touching.

If you’re at all interested in politics and racial issues between Indian and Black people in Kenya, this is a great read.

I think every woman should read this book. This was life-changing for me. It’s like a switch went off in my head. I should write an entire post just about this book, it affected me THAT much.

I really enjoy Moriarty’s writing, but this might be one of my favourites. It was just totally satisfying in every way.

Reading this book was exactly like watching a movie on the Hallmark channel, in a good way. Very soft and feel-good.

Well, off to prepare for a strange, staggered-entry week. Let’s do this! xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Herb Garden Edition

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Earlier this week we got back from ten days at our vacation place; more about that later, but it was relaxing and chill, which I desperately needed. Prior to that my husband was out there for eight days by himself, which both worked out well – we have spent 24/7 together since March – and also was a challenge in terms of solo parenting emotional people getting ready for school/ worrying about possibly not going to school/ not knowing if their friends were going to school or taking the online option, not to mention preparing for the vacation itself, and all that entails. You all know what I’m talking about.

After coming home from ten days away, there was much to be done and I just now feel like I’ve caught up on groceries and laundry, scheduling the kids to go get their school ID and paperwork – school starts TUESDAY and I have feelings, but that will be left for another post – as well as picking up the dog from the kennel and – because the kennel either lost my booking or I failed to book him in for grooming – scheduling a visit to the groomer’s.

He’s happy to be back, can you tell?

Vacation, school, and everything in between will wait for next time. What I really wanted to talk about today is…

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Herb Garden Edition

I have had so much fun this summer, growing herbs. I have kept them in pots by the back door, where it is sheltered and receives a blast of south-west sun, so it is also the hottest part of the yard. This year I grew basil, oregano, two kinds of mint, parsley, and chives, and I also transplanted my grown-in-house cilantro to a pot outside, and although transplanting cilantro is apparently a no-no, it worked great.

Pre-harvest! That’s the cilantro in front.

I learned some very important lessons: basil needs to be grown in a pot by itself, rather sharing a pot with the oregano, because oregano is super-bossy and totally takes over, don’t plant parsley unless you really love parsley or know people who do that don’t mind being constantly gifted parsley, and that I don’t actually use a lot of fresh herbs in my cooking.

I mean, I DO, I use cilantro often and chives are always a nice addition to dishes; I like to use fresh herbs while making salad dressings, and mint is nice for the occasional mojito. But honestly, my herbs were so prolific that I couldn’t possibly use them all fresh. So I got a little Ma Ingalls If Ma Ingalls Had An Herb Garden And Wasn’t Mostly Starving To Death On The Bald Prairie Most Of The Time:

Mint Extract

Fun fact about mint is that you should always grow it in a pot, unless you want it to take over your entire garden. It is VERY prolific; I would cut it right back, and within a day or two it would be happily popping back up. I decided to make some mint extract using a “recipe” I found on the internet.

First, fill a jar with a cup and a half of fresh mint. Or thereabouts!

Then muddle it to release the essence.

Add a cup or so of vodka, enough to cover things up. No need to get neurotic about the measurements. Just pour!

Fun fact! I was gifted that giant bottle of vodka on my fortieth birthday; I do like vodka but clearly I don’t have mixed drinks that often.

Don’t drink the vodka while you are doing this! Wait until later.

Once the vodka is added, let it sit in a dark cool spot for a couple of months, and then strain out the mint leaves. Did it work? Who knows! I’ll let you know around Christmastime.

Dehydration Nation

Longtime readers will remember my love affair with my dehydrator. Remember that episode of Friends when Joey has a roommate obsessed with dehydrating fruit? This? This, my friend, is a CANTALOUPE. I feel seen, is what I’m saying. Crazy Eddie, I feel you.

Anyway, my love affair continues as I used that baby to dry my herbs, particularly parsley, because OMG look at the parsley.

This was the second round of dehydrating parsley; it now looks like I need to do it a third time. WHO WANTS PARSLEY.

Excess of parsley aside, I have to tell you that it is very satisfying to have homemade dried herbs, like I’m “putting up” for the winter.

A Seedy Story

As my cilantro started to flower, my thoughts turned to seeds. Could I save the seeds for future plantings, possibly saving myself $1.99 for a seed pack? The answer is an unqualified yes.

The key to saving seeds is to allow them to DRY, and I didn’t use the dehydrator for that, I just left them on a paper towel in what is usually my indoor herb/ predominantly cilantro garden. The seeds in front were, I think, picked too soon. I may just grind them up with a mortar and pestle to make coriander. The rest are drying nicely and look like the seeds that you can buy in a package. I might be saving myself MORE than $1.99 this year. Maybe more like $2.98.

I think next year I will try a different variety of herbs; maybe just one type of mint and probably no parsley. That spot is so hot and shaded that I might just try growing tomatoes too. Wouldn’t that be fun; my very own caprese salad garden!

So tell me: have you been gardening this year? xo

Slowly Losing It; Twenty-Two Weeks In

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Get It On, Bang A Gong

With absolutely no prompting and zero information on the Noise Infraction Police Situation, my neighbours two doors down – a couple in their late sixties – told me that every day at 5:30, when my son practices his drums, they come out into their backyard to listen to him. “When you have your windows open we can really hear him,” the wife said, and when I sheepishly said that it’s pretty loud, she answered with “It’s music! He sounds great!” I feel Very Fortunate for my neighbours and more inclined than ever to encourage more band practices (the socially distanced kind, of course) in my basement. Get ready for some covers of Another One Bites The Dust and Plush, neighbours!

Channeling Tammy Faye

Every night for two weeks, I wondered why my mascara was so hard to remove, and every morning for two weeks I woke up with raccoon eyes and mascara residue still, somehow, on my eyelashes. I wondered if they changed the formula; it was going on a little funny as well. Every day. Two weeks. Then I looked at the tube and realized I had accidentally bought the waterproof kind.

You Go To School To Learn, Not For A Fashion Show

The boys have not worn jeans since March; they have been, weather be damned, exclusively in shorts. They are starting in-person school in just a couple of weeks, and so I had them try on their jeans to see where we were at.

You know how you can be around people for twenty-four hours a day and not really realize that they’ve changed until you look at old photos or, in this case, have them try on clothes they haven’t worn for five months? They’ve GROWN.

My older son went to try his jeans on and said, “Mom, I’m not sure if it’s just because I haven’t worn jeans in a while, but were they always this tight?” He came into the room looking like Kramer when he went back to jeans. They were absolutely, 1980s-Girls-Who-Wore-Jeans-Still-Damp-So-They-Could-Dry-Tighter, skintight, ending at mid-calf. He could barely walk. Then he bent over and the jeans completely ripped up the butt. My younger son’s jeans fit similarly but with less dramatic ripping.

Even if we weren’t in a pandemic, the thought of actually taking the boys to a store is defeating to me; their sizes are so strange that stores rarely carry them, so we ordered online and I chose in-store pickup. The date for pickup was last week, the same date that all the masks I ordered from a great company called Wedding Star were due to arrive. I cheerfully walked to the mall, which was busier than any place I’ve been to but with mandatory masks – and everyone complying – it felt okay. Jeans in hand, I waited happily for the masks to arrive on my doorstep…and waited. I wondered if I got the dates wrong, but when I went to look at the confirmation email, I couldn’t find it. I went to the website, and there was my order, that I HAD NOT FINISHED. My little cart was sitting there, ten masks in, waiting for me to pay. Oops. Happily, they are due to arrive BEFORE the start of school, and I have the confirmation to prove it. Plus, now all of the masks were on sale. Who knew being a flake could pay off?

Stick It To The Man

My younger son had to go for blood work, and, as with anything in our new reality, I was a bit nervous. The lab, at the best of times, seems like a disgusting petrie dish of humanity. I needn’t have worried. For one thing, as I said masks are now mandatory in all public spaces; even so, when we were allowed to enter, we had to remove our masks, sanitize our hands, and put on fresh, disposable masks provided by the lab.

Side note: is anyone else a little concerned about the environmental impacts of all of this? Disposable everything, harsh chemicals cleaning every surface that could possibly be touched by another person, not to mention gallons of hand sanitizer, possibly ingested when we eat anything and possibly absorbed into our bodies? Hello, superbugs and environmental crisis. Anyway. One thing at a time.

*repeat mantra* we are all just doing the best we can, we are all just doing the best we can

Anyhoo, back to the lab. We had to line up, physically distanced, in the hallway so the staff could control the numbers, and then after we were freshly masked and sanitized and signed in for his appointment, we were directed immediately to a cubicle where the technician would take his blood. There was a waiting room but I assume it was for people who had arrived a bit too early.

My son and I were reading and laughing at the warning signs with regards to getting blood work, that were posted on the cubicle wall. Side effects include minor discomfort! Oh no! You may have minor discomfort! My son pointed out bleeding from the puncture site. “Isn’t that how they take blood? Bleeding from the puncture sight?” Ha ha ha, yes, well.

We finished the appointment and went to the stairwell – I never take the elevator for less than five floors, and we were on the second – but it was closed due to cleaning. “Well, I guess it has to be the elevator,” I said, turning to my son, who at the same time said “Um, Mom?”

The cotton ball was soaked with blood and it was dripping down his arm. Huh.

Back to the lab!

Of course, there was a big lineup when we got there, and at the very front was an older couple, going through a very long explanation with the technician – who had her back to me – about why there was two of them and why they were there so early. The gentleman had aphasia, yes he speaks English but doesn’t always understand what’s happening, yes they understood that all chairs were six feet apart so in the waiting room, those were brand-new disposable masks they had on, did they really have to use the lab ones, okay, yes, they would use the lab ones. Meanwhile, my son and I stood there as patiently as possible; it’s not like he was bleeding OUT and also, as a society we should remember that other people exist and have needs. Aphasia is hard enough to live with, after all, and it was, as Monty Python would say, only a flesh wound.

Once the couple were inside, the technician gestured to the next person in line, who had watched my son and I standing there, and in turn gave me the universal “OMG, GO!” gesture. I apologetically explained to the woman that we were just there, but my son started bleeding…she looked at his arm and it was High Alert! Code Red! We were rushed into a new cubicle and quickly looked after, which seemed a little dramatic but was appreciated.

The lesson here is, of course, karma, because he also had some minor discomfort.

Pandemic Reading

I don’t know why I keep reading about Truman Capote, when I find his life completely sad and depressing. I guess I like reading about fashion and high society in the 1960s-70s. A few years ago I read The Swans of Fifth Avenue, which was, in my opinion, much more fun than Swan Song. However, this book contains a lot more about Lee Radziwill, who I find kind of fascinating, and also Pam Churchill. Worth a read if you don’t mind depressing end-of-life stories.

Oh, this was good. A psychotherapist seeks therapy to deal with a bad breakup, but ends up facing the fact that she is having a midlife crisis. This is wonderful and life-affirming in every way. I usually photograph pages that contain lines I want to remember, and I could have photographed this whole book.

In lieu of a mountain hike, this week my dear friend and frequent hiking partner Taryn (HI TARYN) and I headed for a 10 km in the foothills – very lovely and so close to home!

Lots more adventures to come this week, I’m sure. And for those of you wondering about my herb garden? Sorry to keep you hanging! xo