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Boyhouse Year in Review 2018

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Today I am going to de-Christmas the house. This is an all-time record for me; I don’t think I’ve ever had the decorations and tree up until December 31. Usually I take them down much earlier, but I felt the need to prolong the festivity, just a little bit. I am still on vacation for a few more days, and I’m still taking it easy, but my need to clean has been coming out in strange ways – I scrubbed down all the kitchen cupboards, washed the walls and steps in the back entryway – so I feel like it’s time. It will be nice to start the New Year with the uncluttered house, although it has been a lovely Christmas.

The Friday before Christmas I finished teaching my last class before the New Year, came home, and did something I never do in the afternoon: I brewed a pot of coffee. Then I poured big glugs of Almond Baileys into it and cozied around, reading a book. The holidays so far have been marked by lots of family time, our favourite Christmas movies, friends and family dinners, and a TON of calories. Hoo boy. Well, if you can’t splash out at Christmas, when can you? After all, isn’t that what January is for? Green smoothies and Buddha bowls, although tonight we are going out for a nice New Year’s dinner before ringing in 2019 at home. We will see if I make it to midnight or not, but Santa filled my stocking with two bottles of VERY NICE wine, so one of them might be motivation for staying up late.

I hope Santa was good to you too! I was the recipient of so many lovely things; pajamas and slippers, books and fancy tea, a Pandora ornament with a holiday-themed charm and bracelet, yoga pants and a running top. I feel cozy and happy and I hope you do too.

Boyhouse Year in Review 2018

January

January was VERY COLD, the fanny pack and scrunchie made a return, and I realized not EVERYONE is busy.

February

I applied Behavioural Economics to shopping carts, wondered if bed-makers and non-bed-makers can live together in harmony, and discussed growing old gracefully.

March

I finally learned how to play the theme song from Cheers, and it was not hard, the long winter froze my brain, and I figured out the algorithm for PC Points.

April

We went to Huatulco and it was glorious, I realized how much maintenance our bodies need, and I encountered a school bus driver who looked exactly like Kid Rock. Also it was my birthday!

May

I talked about my great love for karaoke, I read about Swedish death cleaning, and my tulips were all mysteriously destroyed.

June

I tried some things I read about on the internet and they actually worked, I talked about my favourite things including my new mala made by my talented friend Amy, and I went through an old box from my parents’ basement and it contained all my old letters from pen pals and my grandma *insert exploding heart here*. Also, this amazing framed picture of Elvis.

July

I mused about summer jobs and what it would be like to work at an amusement park, my kids went to my parents’ for a week and I was completely unmoored, and I shared my favourite recipe for green smoothies while reading a book about how not to die (SPOILER ALERT: WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE).

August

I finished my one-year shopping challenge, we went on an amazingly epic road trip, and I confessed that I HATE having guests help in the kitchen.

September

I wrote my THOUSANDTH post, my god, it snowed and I hosted ten teen boys for a seven-hour birthday party, and I realized that I am very cheap in some ways (being Scottish?).

October

We had a freak heavy snowfall that essentially shut down the city, I realized my children are spoiled and so am I, and I decided that filters are the root of all social media evil.

November

I recovered from the flu and did not die in spin class, I realized that I am not as memorable as I thought I was, and I revisited my youth.

December

I made a life-changing decision, I recalled the advent calendars of my childhood, and finally, cart karma really paid off.

Happy New Year to you, I hope 2019 is full of joy and happiness. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The “We Need A Little Christmas, Right This Very Minute” Edition

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In the last week, I have seen the following outfits on young girls: a one-shouldered bodysuit paired with jogging pants, the type that are tightly elasticized around the ankles, super high-rise lululemon tights with a hoodie, the bottom hem of which ended two inches below the bra line, Cougar boots, and a very high ponytail, and a white mock-turtleneck tucked into very high-rise navy blue flared cropped pants, the shorter hemline emphasizing the old-school Adidas runners and ruffled white ankle socks. The last outfit was accessorized by a red purse with a gold-chain strap. If there was such a thing as a blog back in 1985-1993, all of those things would have made Nicole’s Favourite Things. As it is, I find it very interesting, like I am a fashion anthropologist analyzing current trends and how they related to my own youth.

But I did not come here to talk about the return of acid-wash jeans or bodysuits. I came here to talk about Christmas! It’s time for Nicole’s Favourite Things – and I have lots of favourite things at this time of year, so hold on to your hats! Your SANTA hats, that is!

Nicole’s Favourite Things – The “We Need A Little Christmas, Right This Very Minute” Edition

THE DRESS

I alluded to the dress I bought – from Le Chateau, no less – for my husband’s Christmas party. It has sprinted past my other favourite dresses to become, I believe, my all-time favourite. It has surpassed my wedding dress, my perfect black wrap dress, and the black-and-white Sixties-style swing dress I had when I was sixteen. It’s a bit hard to tell from the photo – my older son took the pictures and we switched the tree lighting to try to capture it – but it’s a black sheath with a piece of drapey fabric that makes for a swoopy, uneven hemline. Black and drapey, as we know from all my sweaters, is my jam.

I paired the dress with my three-inch wedge heels, which looked nice, but for someone who spends most of the day working in bare feet, it was kind of painful. I paid for it the next day with the tightest hip flexors you ever did see. I used to wear heels all the time, and they never bothered me. But hoo boy, I’m glad I don’t wear them much anymore.

 

Holidays on Ice

I bought this book in 2015 and I have read it every December since then. I love David Sedaris, and his “Santaland Diaries” and “Dinah, the Christmas Whore” still make me laugh until I cry, gasping for air, even after that many readings.

My Yard

It seems that my husband has a very competitive streak. We’ve always had a lot of Christmas decorations in the yard, but as our neighbourhood demographics start to change – read: the old people are, um, leaving and new young families are coming in – we have gone from Appropriately Festive to Griswold-Worthy Light Show. My husband’s goal is to show those young upstarts up and let them know how it’s done, I guess. We have the following: icicle lights paired with red ones, colourful signs in each of my three large planters, an entire candy cane lane along our sidewalk and stairs, two light-up trees and two light-up gift boxes, two light-up deer, one moose, one polar bear, two penguins, one hippo, and two snowmen, including a six-foot tall one that has flashing lights and stars. The Mayday tree is filled with sparkling colourful Christmas balls as well:

People stop to take photos of our yard, and at least three elderly men have stopped me, while walking Barkley, to tell me that they admire my husband’s work. How did they know it was him, and not me?

These Ornaments

My mom dropped off this little cutie-pie for me:

I put it near this one that I bought four years ago. They are little friends!

I buy an ornament every year, and this was the one I bought the first year we were married:

This year’s ornament, in honour of the pandas being in Calgary:

This was last year’s ornament, in honour of the cute little chickadees that hang out in the shrub by my garage and become immensely startled each and every time I come out of the house.

Musical Decorations

I love this little cookie-making machine; it plays music and is, frankly adorable. Note the box set of Seinfeld in the background. Santa brought that for the boys last year and it was some of the best money I have ever spent. Other than my new dress, that is.

This is another musical cutie, the snowman and reindeer bop around with the music. The creche in the background is one I brought back from Mexico back in 1997.

Old Timey Ornaments

This little Santa was one I bought from a craft fair, probably circa 1998. Behind him is a bowl where I keep beautiful smooth stones, seashells, and driftwood I collected from the West Coast, back when my husband and I were first married. My mother-in-law had given me the glass bowl; it was her mother’s, and she thought I might like it. I think it was filled with chocolates at the time. She also gave me those ornaments, they were hers from the Sixties. They are extremely fragile, which makes me appreciate modern unbreakable ornaments.

Soapie and Ed

Last year my husband took the boys to Canadian Tire for various Christmassy-yard things, and came home with this adorably fluffy sheep for me. I laughed with delight and christened her Soapie, as she looked like a big foamy soap bubble. This year the trio went to Canadian Tire – AGAIN for yard items – and presented me with the snowman. “He looks like an Ed” my older son said sarcastically, but it was exactly right. Soapie and Ed sit on the hearth above Barkley’s bed, and Barkley tends to be a bit jealous of Soapie. He usually nudges her over once or twice before resigning to his fate.

Dressing Up The Dog

Speaking of Barkley, I went to buy him some food and treats and lo, there was an entire aisle of things for which to dress up your dog. I chose this scarf, which is really meant for a much smaller dog, as it is fairly fitted on his fluffy neck. I’ve been putting it on him to take our walks, and the pure joy I get from seeing him jauntily walking around like a man about town in his festive scarf is much greater than the $5.99 price tag would indicate.

Those are my favourite things this year. I hope you have a wonderful holiday and that you can enjoy all your favourite things too. Merry Christmas. xo

Festively Limping To The Finish Line

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I won’t ask if you are all ready for Christmas, because I know you already are! a friend (HI GLENN) said to me last week, and it’s true, my gifts were all purchased over a month ago, cards have been sent out weeks ago, everything is wrapped, and yet. This last week, these last few days before a break, may just be my undoing. We are all so exhausted and completely burnt out that it is taking every ounce of energy to rouse myself and the kids out of bed in the morning and just get through the day. We are all counting down the days until vacation, even though it specifically goes against my Enjoy The Moment mantra. If we are always looking ahead to the next thing, we can forget about what’s happening right now. Or, as Ferris Bueller said, Life moves pretty fast, if you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you might miss it.

Deep thoughts from teen movies of the Eighties.

What is it about this week? This morning I felt like my sanity was holding on by a thread, and not a sturdy thread either, but one that is completely frayed and shoddy. Yesterday my younger son said that he thought there was no school on Friday. Weeks ago I had checked the school website; since Thursday is “activity day” I thought that might be the case. But on the website, Friday was listed as Last Day of Classes. So, by that logic, I concluded that Friday was indeed the Last Day of Classes and there would be school.

Strangely, the kids kept telling me that over the morning announcements, there were x-1 days of school left, when I felt there should be x days left, based on Friday being the Last Day of Classes. After my son’s claim yesterday though, I looked again at the website. Friday: Last Day of Classes. But oh! When I started to scroll down to confirm the date of my older son’s Environmental and Outdoor Education trip to the mountains, I noticed something. Underneath Friday: Last Day of Classes was Friday: PD Day NO CLASSES.

WHAT.

It seems to me like there could have been a much better way of communicating that information. I looked through all the paper forms in my possession and not one mentioned this fairly salient fact. To be sure, it is not a big deal; if anything, it’s an unexpected bonus since that will allow me to have a much more relaxed morning, but yet it was unsettling.

More unsettling was the realization that the Grade Eight Ski Trip – for which no forms or information has been distributed to parents as of yet – was on the exact same day that my eighth grader was due to go in to get molds made for his upcoming orthodontic work. Under normal circumstances, this would be No Big Deal. I would Figure Things Out. But with everything else going on right now, and a January packed full of one-off appointments, and the fact that I had already rescheduled this particular appointment twice, and this appointment needed to occur 7-10 days before the actual braces are put on actual teeth, and finding an appointment time that both works for my crazy schedule and minimizes the missing of Important, Difficult To Make Up classes is incredibly trying, well, this was the thing that took the thread from Sturdy to Completely Frayed.

I’ll just call before I head into the studio, I thought, with deep ujjayi breaths. I had a few minutes between the time the office opened – 8:00 – and the time I had to leave. No problem! Except that I kept getting the If you are calling to reschedule or book an appointment, please contact us during our regular office hours message. But I AM calling you during regular office hours! This IS your regular office hours, why is no one answering the PHONE?

Well. I got it done, not without the requisite mental anguish. The finish line is indeed in sight. Soon, I will be able to pour giant glugs of Almond Baileys into my coffee and drink it in my pajamas, with nowhere to go and no place to be. Soon.

I don’t want to complain, I really don’t. I do love this time of year; I love the parties and gatherings and getting cards in the mailbox. Speaking of which, last year someone sullenly tweeted that they had received only one Christmas card, and it was a standard-issue from a local business. It turned out that she had sent ZERO cards but was expecting many. Well. That might not be how it works. Perhaps expectations need to be adjusted. And perhaps I need to adjust my own expectations about my own limits and go to bed every night this week at 8:00. That sounds like a very good plan.

Speaking of expectations, I had very low ones yesterday when I drove into the Costco parking lot. Costco, one week before Christmas. I was, to be honest, expecting a complete nightmare and I spent a few minutes in my car just deep breathing. I had just taught a yoga class and I discussed the stressful time of year with my students, using words like “self-care” and “meditative breathing” and I felt like the teacher could be the student, so to speak. The parking lot was strewn with carts, which, as we all know, causes me much grief, and the man in the car across from mine literally shoved his cart into the VERY SAME SNOWBANK from which I had retrieved a cart only two weeks prior, and drove off. DEEP BREATHING, SERENITY NOW.

So I was expecting the literal worst as I went into the store, wondering, not for the first time, if the items on my list really were worth the angst involved. And then…nothing. The produce section was a bit crazy, due to very poor aisle engineering, but the shopping trip was really…fine. All my items were available, some were discounted, all the produce looked great, and then when I went to check out there was NO LINE. I wheeled my giant heavy cart up to the till and immediately unloaded. WHEN HAS THAT EVER HAPPENED, I ASK? Certainly it was not what I was expecting the week before Christmas. Maybe it was all that cart karma during the year. It all paid off.

And speaking of karma, my lovely friend and yoga student Sara (HI SARA) brought me these cookies, along with – get this – chocolate pretzel bark and honestly, this kind and beautiful gesture absolutely turned my whole day around. I went from Being Ready To Cry to having my sanity reinstated. It is no longer hanging by a thread. It is now securely double-stitched together. Never underestimate what kindness will do for someone, especially this time of year. xo

Advent Calendars: Waxy Chocolates, Fanciness, Happiness, and Kindness.

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When you were a kid, what kind of – if any – Advent calendar did you have? We had the kind that you could buy at the grocery store or Sears; each window opened to reveal a small waxy chocolate in the shape of a gift or a tree or – for Christmas Eve and Christmas Eve alone – a star. I shared this calendar with my two brothers, which meant that every three days one of those small waxy chocolates was mine, all mine.

Fast forward to today and my kids get these:

I kind of wish I had bought one for myself, the treats inside are so decadent. Don’t get me wrong, when I was a kid I’m not sure they even had anything other than those grocery store calendars. Now everything is available, calendar-wise, from booze to chocolate to Lego to ornaments. What an age we live in.

Besides the fancy Lindt ones, we also have a little wooden calendar I bought when the kids were small. At that time I would put little treats inside, when they got bigger I copied Lynn and wrote down a fun winter/ Christmas activity for each day. The kids would open it in the morning and see if the activity of the day would be sledding after school, reading Dear Polar Bear or decorating cookies. I still think this is a great idea but eventually I ran out of fresh, fun activities and if there was a lot of snow, every day for a solid week the activity would be “sledding after school” since they were going to do that anyway. I mean, December with young children can be tiring enough without having to be all creative about fun family activities, especially when you are the sole person in charge of said activities.

The last couple of years, as I no longer picked them up after school and so “sledding” was no longer the default, I would instead write down something I noticed that I liked about each boy, and put it behind the appropriate door. This was great until the crush of the season came along and I kept writing down “I liked how you were so helpful today” or something completely generic like that, eventually forgetting and writing down nothing at all. This year, I decided to delegate. Everyone, including my husband and I, writes down one happy thing that happened that day, and puts it in the calendar. At the end of the month, we are going to read them all to see what a great month it was. I think this is the best idea yet, and will be helpful when it comes to setting intentions and resolutions for the New Year. My enthusiasm for these projects tends to wane around December 16 but we are still going strong; it really helps to delegate.

I came across this from my friend Jan (HI JAN) and I think the idea of a kindness calendar is lovely; although I actually do most of these things all the time throughout the year. Well, other than buying a colleague coffee since I rarely go into a coffee shop, preferring instead my daily pot of home-brewed Kirkland Signature. I have also never taped money on vending machines, because rarely do I even notice vending machines. But the rest – yes.

Give someone a hug or compliment? Hold the door open for someone? Thank someone who serves you? Smile at a stranger? These things are all my jam. I’m constantly walking around looking dementedly cheerful, due to my massive case of Bitchy Resting Face, years of waitressing taught me to always be kind and thankful to those in customer service, I compliment random strangers on their hair or clothing (the lady in the gym with the Haute Mess t-shirt – amazing), and I am a walking, talking Hug Monster. I do think it’s important to focus on such things in December in particular though; life gets hectic and stressful and although I am Nicole the Elf, it is good for me to remember that not everyone embraces the season with open arms and screams of SANTA’S COMING, I KNOW HIM. Anyone who has seen the new reboot of The Grinch – if you haven’t, go see it, it is an absolute delight – or anyone with any kind of compassion or empathy knows that this season can be very hard for many, and a little kindness goes a long way.

I was thinking about this a few weeks ago when I was at – you guessed it – Costco. This was at the beginning of the month, and I had just seen that calendar, and I thought, I’m going to CRUSH this kindness thing. First, I rescued a cart from where it was stuck in between a parking stall and a snowbank, and as I sunnily pushed it through the parking lot, I saw a lady shove her cart in between her car and the one beside her, and drive off. I consider it a kindness that I didn’t chase after her, banging on the hood of her car while screaming You are what is wrong with society today. 

Anyway.

Once in the store I smiled only semi-maniacally, even at people completely blocking the aisle while they lined up for their free two-inch cup of popcorn and coffee. Costco was, as it always is, but particularly in December, a minor nightmare. By the time I got to the checkout, the lines were snaking their way around the granola bar and fruit snack displays. I chose a line that seemed decent, until the man in front of me was joined by his wife, who had a full cart IN ADDITION to his full cart. Oh well.

In the line beside me was a young mother, with a cart full of groceries, a little boy who appeared to be about three, and a baby. The baby started to fuss in the line and the mother looked totally panicked, rocking the giant cart back and forth in a gesture that every parent can identify with. I looked at her long line, and I looked at the man in front of me who was almost finished unloading the second cart, and I thought, what difference will five minutes make? I told her she could go in front of me and the sheer gratitude on her face was enough to make me want to let EVERY mother with a baby in front of me in EVERY lineup forever. Thank the nice lady who let us go first! she said to her little boy, who waved at me and said Sank youu. 

I would in no way turn down a Lindt teddy or reindeer, or a mini bottle of booze or a bottle of wine, but this kindness calendar thing is pretty gratifying.

Life Changing Decisions; A Whole New Me

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After several months of dissatisfaction, and weeks of reflection and much internal dialogue and agonizing, I have made a huge, life-altering decision. I have decided to grow out my layers. This feels akin to when one decides to stop taking birth control and try for conception: there is an exciting, yet scary, time ahead of you, but you have little to no actual control over the timing or outcome. What will the next few months bring? The only guarantee is that there will be a roller-coaster of emotions, and hopefully, in the end, a happy outcome. Lest you think I’m being over-dramatic, let me remind you that I have had layers in my hair for longer than I have had my children, and so I do not think I can overstate the Emotional Impact and Feeling of Hope that has resulted from this decision.

My beloved hair therapist, when I told her the news, had the exact reaction I had been hoping for: excitement and also shock, as I am probably her least-adventurous client. Well, maybe not her very least-adventurous; she does have a few elderly ladies who still get the Weekly Shampoo and Set. But other than those octogenarians, I am right up there. I know there are many of you who have the attitude that It’s Just Hair and Hair Grows, and those of you who get Something New every time you go to the salon, but I am not one of those people.

Me: I’ve made a big decision, I’ve decided to grow out my layers.

Hair Therapist: What? Really? Oh my god. Oh my god! This is going to be so fun! Let’s do it!

Since we have had a relationship that spans over sixteen years, she also knows how to talk to me: soothingly and comfortingly. Yesterday was our first big step – cutting quite a bit off the length – and she has made it painless and kind of fun. I feel like it’s a Whole New Me. Now I’m considering all sorts of new things, like buying a new handbag to replace my decade-old Matt and Nat crossbody one, which I love wholeheartedly but is, I feel, starting to look a bit worn. A decade of use will do that to a handbag. It’s starting to look, as my mother would say, like it has Had the Biscuit.

What does that mean, exactly? I’d like to know the origin of that phrase.

Not everyone was super-excited by my decision; my husband and kids were mostly puzzled by The Announcement.

Me: I have a hair appointment this week, and I’m making a big change! I’m growing out my layers.

My husband: What are layers?

My older son: I don’t know what that means.

My younger son: *stares silently into space*

So that was less than satisfying.

Apropos to nothing, I just finished this book:

The title has caused much macabre merriment in the house. My husband looked at the cover and asked what exactly it was that I was reading. Better sleep with one eye open, babe.

Hilarious title aside, this is the best book I have read in AGES. It’s a collection of short stories, which is one of my favourite genres. Are short stories considered a genre? I don’t know. Anyway, one of my regular students, who has never steered me wrong with book recommendations, told me about it and It Is Excellent. I have been gravely disappointed with the last four or five library books I have read; they were all books with a lot of “buzz” and came with raving recommendations from friends. This was like a breath of fresh, thought-provoking and well-written, air. I was like a little kid, reading at night. Just one more story.

I finished this yesterday while I was at the salon, and not a moment too soon. When I had gone to pick it up, I casually selected two other books from the display shelves. Not two days later, I got a notification that two more holds came in. I walked over, picked up the books, and came home to a voice mail that notified me that another book was in. I was just there! Well, I have my free time, such as it is, accounted for now for the next three weeks.

Three weeks! I wonder what my hair will look like in three weeks. I am pretty excited about The New Me, but The New Me might not seem all that different to other people, especially because my hair therapist made a point of keeping my hair at an appropriate length for my standard Work Hairdo, also known as a bun. I have had long hair for many years and I’m very attached to it; I’m probably still scarred from the Big Decision I made in fifth grade, which was to get a haircut like Madonna’s in Papa Don’t Preach. Let me tell you, that was a very Bad Idea. That haircut didn’t look good on Madonna, and it certainly did not look good on me. It took AGES to grow that out; after two years this is what my hair looked like:

That was after two years of concerted effort. By the way, I love this photo so much. The ivy plants, suspended by macrame hangers. My Garfield zodiac sweatshirt. The orange ashtray on the lamp-that-has-a-side-table attached, and let’s not forget the panelled walls.

There are, I’m sure, photos of me with the disastrous Papa Don’t Preach hairstyle, but I don’t seem to have any available. Perhaps I will just leave it to your imagination, dear readers. xo

 

Buddhas, Black Friday, and Bikinis

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I’m torn between not wanting time to go any faster than it already does, living mindfully in the moment, savouring every day, and also counting down the next three weeks until Christmas vacation. On the one hand – mindfulness! On the other – hoo boy, am I looking forward to the break.

Were you on the edge of your seat, wondering how the white chocolate fudge turned out? Well, wonder no more! IT DID NOT GO WELL.

I was so optimistic until the time came to cut it; it was not dissimilar to cutting into a thick pudding. Which is to say, it was messy and weird. Again, how? How did this happen? How do two things that become solid when frozen become a non-Newtonian fluid when mixed together? Why do I need a degree in chemistry to make fudge? At any rate, I was very disappointed. By this time, I had sunk approximately $15 worth of ingredients into that little pan, and I was loathe to throw it out. It’s like throwing $15 in the compost bin. I put the pan back in the freezer and took the dog for a walk.

Taking a walk is great for generating ideas, isn’t it? The little loop Barkley and I walk takes about thirty minutes, and it is good thinking time for me. It’s also a good way to practice mindfulness and notice my surroundings. For example, there is one house on our loop that has a Buddha statue on their front step; it’s not just any Buddha statue, either. There is a jagged edge where the head used to be. This headless Buddha has been there for many months, and the strangest thing is that the head sits on the drain spout directly beside its decapitated body. To my inexpert handywoman eye, it seems like it would be easily fixed with some Gorilla Glue, but no. I can’t help wondering why. It cannot be unnoticed by the residents of the house. Is it some kind of statement? Mere laziness? We may never know the answer.

In any case, as I was walking, I wondered why I was so attached to the idea of little squares of fudge. Practice non-attachment, Nicole. I came up with the idea of rolling the fudge-like-substance into little balls and then dusting with cocoa powder, like a truffle. I tried later that day and it was incredibly messy and oddly difficult, but it somewhat worked.

They did not hold shape particularly well, but my younger son assured me that they were delicious and that he would volunteer as tribute to eat the entire thing, if no one else wanted them. Always willing to sacrifice, that’s him.

I made a coffee date last Friday with a colleague of mine; we both had a brief window of time and she had an appointment in my quadrant of the city. For those of you who I have had actual coffee dates with, you already know that I never have any clue about cool and interesting coffee shops. I never know where anything is and I’m always at a loss to suggest a venue. But for this coffee date, I suggested the Starbucks at a nearby mall; my colleague’s appointment was just down the hill from it, and I live about five minutes away. Normally I do not set foot in the mall after mid-November, but I thought 10:30 on a Friday morning, how bad could it be?

It was Black Friday.

Later, when I was relating this story, a friend (HI ALANA) said to me How could you not know it was Black Friday? Didn’t you get all the emails? Well, yes. My inbox had been exploding over the past week, and yet I never made the connection between the mall and Black Friday. Neither did my colleague, which is how I ended up circling the road-rage-filled parking lot, trying to find a spot, and having to allow an extra twenty minutes to leave the parking lot, so that I wouldn’t be late for my class.

It’s ridiculous, really. Black Friday ISN’T A THING IN CANADA. Well, I guess it IS a thing now, no matter how much I deny it. The parking lot was similar to Christmas Eve or Boxing Day, with the exact kind of panicked, I must buy all the things attitude that one might see on those days. It was insane. The only upside is that I got to see all the pretty Christmas decorations that were not up when last I was in the mall, such as a gigantic sparkly moose.

And as much as I deny the existence of Black Friday, I am not made of stone. The endless barrage of emails from various retailers wore me down, and I actually clicked on the one from La Vie En Rose. I was in the market for a new bikini, anyway, and they had absolutely ridiculous prices. The one I fell in love with was obtained for a mere $22. Twenty-two dollars! Of course, my husband looked at the photo and pronounced it “ugly” and that the “embroidery looks old-ladyish.”

Well. I do not think it’s UGLY but he may have a point in terms of old-ladyish-ness. A few years ago I realized that triangle-and-string bikinis were really not suitable anymore, for a few reasons, most notably that they were no longer flattering – hello, gravity – and also they were not providing the, shall I say, coverage that I think is appropriate for a woman my age who is the mother of two teenage boys. Since I refuse to wear one-pieces for the same reasons I refuse to wear rompers or jumpsuits, more modest bikinis are my new jam. The key word here is COVERAGE. I don’t want to end up dressing like Stacy’s Mom.

Speaking of teen boys, this week I took them to the dentist for their cleaning and checkups. They are still going to the same pediatric dentist we’ve been patronizing for a decade. It occurred to me for the first time that perhaps it might be time to switch dentists; not because I have any issues with the actual dentist practice, in fact, it’s the opposite. I love their whole office. However, I thought maybe it was time to move on when I looked at my sons and their feet hanging off the small purple dental chairs, their heads popping up above the headrests. I asked the dentist at what point should we say good-bye to them, and he said that he sees kids up to age eighteen. I pictured their future six-foot-plus frames squished into the child-sized dental chairs.

The thing is, their office is so convenient. It is literally a three-minute drive from my house, and approximately that long from their school. They had an 8:00 appointment and both were back at the school by 8:25. I mean, you can’t buy that kind of convenience. Maybe I will keep them there until they are 18, their deep voices will be a change from the usual high-pitched screaming that is de rigeur in any given pediatric dental office.

I think we’re going to make it after all

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A few months ago I offered to bring desserts to a Christmas party on December 1; I love making holiday-themed sweet treats and I always, without exception, make more than even my family with two teen boys can possibly eat. Or, should eat. In any case, I happily offered and two days ago I realized with a start that December 1 is next weekend. How did that happen? In my mind it’s still September. Well, kind of. It feels like this fall has flown by and now I am in full-on Christmas treat-making-mode, going through massive amounts of coconut milk, chocolate, and peppermint extract.

Yesterday I made two different kinds of fudge to have in the freezer; I decided to make a white chocolate fudge with dried cherries and almond slices, and I followed the base recipe from Kraft Canada, thinking that it couldn’t go wrong. Well. I guess I can’t really blame Kraft because I DID alter the recipe slightly – instead of using condensed milk I used full-fat coconut milk which, in my defense, has worked as a substitute every single time before. Even as I was making it I thought it didn’t seem quite right, it seemed too thin and liquidy. After a full 18 hours in the freezer, it was still soft and certainly not set in the least, which begs the question: why? I mean, if I put coconut milk in the freezer it would be solid. If I put white chocolate in the freezer, it would also be solid. WHY DO THE TWO TOGETHER NOT WORK?

That is how I found myself scraping the strange soft, and cold, mixture into a saucepan at 7:00 this morning, adding white chocolate like there was no tomorrow, based on the theory that more solid matter could only make it more solid. It’s science, bitches. My kids watched with interest; the younger one was particularly invested in the process and kept suggesting other things we could try. I find myself, this morning, obsessively checking on it, as if the state of the fudge is much more important than it actually is. Maybe I’m projecting my emotional state on the fudge? Maybe I’m compensating for something in my life? I don’t know. As it stands it seems to be firming up, but will I be able to cut it into squares, and if not what do I do? Who knows. I am full of regret. Why would I substitute when I’ve never made this before? White chocolate isn’t even vegan so I can’t say I was trying to make a dairy-free version. I was just being too lazy to buy condensed milk, I guess, like I haven’t spent two full afternoons this week grocery shopping. I most certainly could have picked up a can.

Yesterday when I was in the checkout line at Superstore, the cashier handed me the little “this till closed, please use next register” sign to put behind my groceries. I love when that happens! It felt like payback for the week before when I made a decision between two lines and chose the one that had only two men, both with maybe a dozen items each. This will be fast, I thought happily, as I was in a hurry. If this was a movie, albeit a very boring movie, some very dramatic music would start playing, foreshadowing disaster. Grocery store disaster. The first gentleman kept trying to pay with cards that didn’t work, which took several minutes and a special customer service supervisor to resolve. The second gentleman seemed fine, until he pulled out his giant Samsung and started price-matching everything. EVERY SINGLE ITEM. I know it’s their policy to price match but MY GOD PEOPLE. Things got a little tense when it appeared he could NOT price-match his already-discounted meat because it was the wrong kind of meat and by this time I started spiralling into despair, as I watched five – FIVE – people go through the other lineup, the lineup I could have been in if I hadn’t smugly assumed that two men with small amounts of groceries would not actually take twenty minutes. An older lady behind me had started unloading her groceries, and when it appeared we weren’t going anywhere anytime soon – customer service again had to be called with regards to the discount meat – she said to me in a heavy Eastern European accent, What have I done to deserve this? What indeed. I considered asking her if she was the type to leave her cart in the parking lot at Costco, but refrained. After all we were both in this together, I with my good cart karma, and also it was Superstore, not Costco.

I just checked on the fudge again. I think it might be okay. We might be okay, everyone. xo