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Well, it’s January

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“Well, it’s January.” This seems to be my answer to everything lately, from the wildly-fluctuating weather to my own general idiocy. Well, idiocy may be a strong term for “writing down the dog’s veterinary appointment on the wrong day” but here we are. I had my entire morning planned around Barkley’s appointment. I had called a few weeks ago, specified the necessity of a Thursday morning appointment, and yesterday, when I bundled myself up and hauled us both over to the clinic, discovered that the appointment was for the next Thursday. Sadly, that time was not going to work for me so now today at 3:30 is my new time; an inferior time, if I do say so myself. Friday afternoon is no time for an appointment. Friday afternoon is no time for anything except collapsing in exhaustion from the week’s travails. However, I could see no real alternative, given my schedule over the next few weeks. No sooner than I had arranged this with the receptionist and arrived back home, I received a phone call from the vet clinic, reminding me of my appointment tomorrow at 3:30. But I just SAW you twenty minutes ago to arrange this is something I did not say to the young receptionist, instead circling “Barkley 3:30!!!” several times in pink ink on my calendar. Mental note: do not miss this appointment.

Well, at least it’s Friday, and as soon as I return from the vet I am cracking open a bottle of wine and grabbing myself a funnel. No, a glass. A glass.

When I went scissors-shopping this week, it took everything in my power not to immediately spend thousands of dollars on beautiful kitchenware at The Bay. Did you know Kate Spade has a whole kitchenware collection? I spent a lot of time looking at the beautiful dinnerware and oversized wine glasses, mentally picturing myself sipping from a 500 mL wine glass and eating dinner off a “in good taste” plate. Then I saw Le Creuset bakeware and, my goodness, how did I get out of there alive? Well, I remembered that I DO have lovely glassware (not 500 mL ones though) and I DO have lovely Denby dinnerware, and almost every single piece is chipped, because of children. Children, nay, TEENAGERS and fancy dinnerware are not really compatible and so I felt powerful and strong, if regretful, as I left with only scissors and two tiny cut-price Christmas ornaments.

Relatedly, I mused aloud to my husband at the end of December, wondering if I should cut back on my wine consumption for the New Year. He looked at me with what can only be described as a mix of horror and bewilderment, as he asked me why, why in the world I would think about doing that. Um, okay! Go grab the corkscrew, honey! After all, Santa did bring me some nice bottles for my stocking.

Santa also brought me this sweater, and I think it’s so cute and cozy that I just have to share:

It’s like wearing a bathrobe over all my clothes and it is just the best thing ever. Especially since this was the temperature when I dropped off the kids yesterday morning.

Brrrr!

Filing this also under “January Idiocy” is what I shall always refer to as the Music Incident. Monday afternoon I was subbing a yoga class for a lovely group of ladies. It wasn’t the first time I’d subbed for them, so I knew what they liked: a mix of gentle and more vigorous postures, a strong standing sequence followed by some slower, relaxed seated asana. They also seemed to enjoy the instrumental playlists that I had used for them in the past. I chose one of my favourites, “Peaceful Piano” for the class. Now, Peaceful Piano is a very long playlist and I have always played it from the beginning, so I confess that I had not heard every song on it. I put the playlist on shuffle and enjoyed some of the gorgeous music.

As the students went into savasana, the song changed. My mental process went something like this:

This song sounds familiar. Why do I know this song?

I’m feeling kind of agitated. Why am I so agitated?

Where is this song from?

Oh my god, it’s from Game of Thrones. This is Game of Thrones! This is the song that played right before Cersei blew everything up.

Oh my god, I’m playing a death song for savasana. A DEATH SONG FOR THE CORPSE POSE.

I wonder if anyone here watches Game of Thrones. 

I seemed to be the only person reliving (SPOILER ALERT) the death and destruction of King’s Landing and the suicide of Tommen, so I guess all is well. But whew, what a week. How many hours until I’m home from that vet appointment?

What’s In A Name; Perspectives; Book Reviews

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The other night, our dinnertime conversation centered on names, and whether the names we give our children are self-fulfilling prophecies. I’ve always been fascinated by names and how they change with trends and generations. The book Freakonomics has a very interesting chapter on names and demographics, and of course I’m watching with interest as names start to come back into style that would have been considered ridiculous when I was a kid. The boys have become big Seinfeld fans – “Santa” gave them the complete series on DVD at Christmas – and there is one bit where Jerry reflects that calling a child “Jeeves” pretty much guarantees a career as a butler. The conversation turned interesting when one of the boys said that it was no wonder Scar from The Lion King was evil; just look at the other names the lions were given. Mufasa. Simba. Sarabi. Nala. All beautiful, majestic names, and then there’s Scar. The other boy said he hoped it was just a nickname given later in life, because if someone was born with a deformity, it seemed cruel to name them after that deformity. “I mean, if you were born with a gigantic head, it seems mean to name a baby Big Head.”

In any case, we all decided that poor Scar was a bit misunderstood and maybe even bullied a little, which is why he turned out the way he did. It’s interesting, always, to look at things from another perspective. I stumbled on this tweet stream the other day and people, it always pays to look at things from someone else’s point of view. There are always at least two sides to every story.

There are two sides to this story as well, but here is my side: my good scissors are missing. Someone who shall remain nameless but who is under fifty and is not me misplaced them; bless his heart, he was helping his father take down the outdoor Christmas decorations, a thankless task, and somehow the scissors have disappeared. Now, I have a very tidy and well-organized house, and believe me when I say THEY ARE NOT IN THE HOUSE. Possibly they were accidentally dropped in a snowbank somewhere, but I think it’s more likely they are in one of the many boxes housing the decorations that are now in the rafters in the garage.

It doesn’t matter what happened to them. What matters is that for the last few weeks I have been forced to use our secondary pair of scissors, a much cheaper and far inferior product.

The good scissors were a wedding gift from my then-boss (HI GARY, WHEREVER YOU ARE) and they were Henkels. When he gave them to me, he jokingly said “You can think of me every time you cut something” and I swear to you, I actually did. But now, upon being forced to use the inferior scissors, I found I was only thinking of my grave disappointment with each use.

Enough is enough and today I headed out in the freezing cold to purchase a new pair of Henkels from The Bay. My motto is to never buy anything at The Bay that isn’t on sale, but needs must sometimes you guys, needs must. It took a lot of internal conflict for me to buy them, with my half-Scottish side reprimanding myself for even THINKING of spending a ridiculous sum of money on scissors when a) the others might turn up next Christmas or when the snow melts, and b) they weren’t even on sale. But you know, I thought it was a small price to pay to have nice scissors again, and not think sadly of the son who misplaced the scissors – WHILE DOING SOMETHING HELPFUL, HE DID NOT MEAN TO DO THIS THING.

Anyway, they are now in my possession and look:

“Just perfect” – they are, really.

It’s all about perspective! And on that note, I’d like to share my perspective on a few books sent to me by Simon and Schuster. I was not compensated for these reviews, but I was sent advance reader copies of each.

Walk It Off

Whenever I get a headache – which is rare, I am not headache-prone – I think, in the voice of Arnold Schwartzegger from Kindergarten Cop, it’s not a tum-ah. But what if it is a tumour? Ruth Marshall – an actress noted for her role in Degrassi, among other things – dismissed her tingling legs and clumsiness, only to find out that she had a giant tumour on her spine. Walk It Off is her memoir (what is the difference between memoir and autobiography?) about her diagnosis and recovery, and although it sounds quite grim, it’s actually really hilarious and heart-warming. You can’t help but put yourself in her (flat) shoes and wonder what it would be like to be in recovery and rehab, with two children, learning to walk and use the bathroom. You also can’t help but get slightly alarmed when you wake up with pins and needles in your hand, ostensibly because you slept in a weird position, but WHAT IF. It’s a really great, quick read with the kind of “a door closes and another opens” ending that I absolutely love.

Dangerous Crossing

As soon as I finished this fabulous mystery I immediately lent it to my mother, who loves mysteries and historical fiction. Dangerous Crossing is the story of a British domestic servant who took advantage of an offer from the Australian government to sail Down Under; apparently domestic servants were in short supply, and the Aussies would pay the passage of young women to go into service. This was in 1939 and really did happen. Now, with any historical fiction, there will be some parts that are NOT strictly historical; behaviours and attitudes tend to be modernized so as to not offend the reader, and this book is no exception. Also, I found myself wondering how on earth a domestic servant would afford a cream silk evening gown, and why cream? It would be hard to clean on a ship. But ignoring that, this book is delicious and fun and I really did not see the ending coming, at all. I like those kinds of twists. This would be an amazing travel read or a book to take to the beach.

Things To Do When It’s Raining

This lovely gem of a book is all about secrets and how they can tear you apart, and the healing power of forgiveness and love. Things To Do When It’s Raining has a lovely message and interesting characters, and this paragraph, I think, says it all.

Asymmetry

I saved the best for last. Of all the books I read in 2017, this might be my favourite. Asymmetry is an incredibly written, beautiful story in three parts; the first two seem like they are completely unrelated, from the perspective of two completely unrelated people, but in the third part, we see how they overlap. It’s a debut novel and it’s amazing – a must read. From a May-December romance to an Iraqi-American detained at London Heathrow, the intertwined stories are fascinating. I loved this so much that I have already decided to re-read it on my next plane trip – it’s such dense, gorgeous writing that I feel that I will get even more out of it on a second read.

On that note, I have laundry to fold and banana bread to make (I still have SO MANY frozen bananas) and a class to teach so I’m signing off. xo

Three Things I Learned Yesterday

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Happy New Year everyone! I am going to admit right now that I love the New Year; I love the idea of fresh starts and new pages and YES, we can start a fresh page of our lives every single day and YES, we can (and I do) make changes and goals any time during the year, but still, there is something about New Year’s. Last year I resolved to focus more, and uni-task rather than multi-task more, and I think that I did improve on that front. I also resolved to read more and – inspired by my dear friend Allison (HI ALLISON) – I kept a record of all the books I read in 2017. I ended up reading 82 books, which I thought was pretty good. Simon and Schuster sent me a bunch of books to read and review and those reviews will be coming in the next little while. Suffice it to say they sent me some excellent titles, and some titles that I would say would be nice, light reads for the beach or holiday.

So what’s up for 2018? Are you making any resolutions, or goals, or words of intention? I have a hard time NOT resolving to do everything – in addition to multiple health, fitness, parenting, reading, and piano playing goals, I’ve also found myself resolving to be more like the mindfulness guru Dr. Saamdu Chetri who starts every day being thankful for the gift of twenty-four hours. Every day! Thank you for these twenty-four hours I have been given! I told my husband about that and he thought it seemed maybe a bit unbalanced. Maybe that’s true, but the principle is still a good one.

It’s a fine line, I think, between self-love and acceptance, celebrating the fabulous people that we are and the wonderful, blessed lives that we have, and also wanting to remake everything entirely on New Year’s. There is always room for improvement, though, and meanwhile, I’ll be over here practicing gratitude and patience and getting extra cardio.

The kids have been off school this week and my husband has been off work, which has been lovely and strange. I still have a modified class schedule, but yesterday I had nothing at all – so I decided I would get all my groceries in one go. That meant a trip to Costco in the morning and a trip to Superstore in the afternoon and suffice it to say that wasn’t the best idea I’ve had. Actually, now that I think of it, it WAS the best idea in terms of a cardio workout – I checked my “steps” on my phone and it turned out I walked 4.2 kilometres – although that did include a 2 kilometre dog walk. There’s a fitness hack for you – go grocery shopping! Especially when it comes to pushing heavy carts through snowy parking lots! Although I did take someone with me for each trip and made them push the cart but next time, it will be just me. I should patent this idea: get fit by grocery shopping, plus buy your veggies! It’s a win-win!

I often resolve to spend less time on the internet and social media, because sometimes it feels that no good can come of it. But then I am proven wrong, for if I wasn’t on the internet I would not have learned these three amazing things:

Pumping Gas

I had no idea that all this time that I have been choosing the “self-serve” lane at the gas station that I was doing something NOT ALLOWED in Oregon. At least, until recently, when Oregon mandated that people can pump their own gas in rural areas which has caused a bit of a kerfluffle in that state. Who knew? I mean really, WHO KNEW. Not me. Opponents to this ruling have many objections: transient people can steal their children while they are waiting in the car as the gas is being pumped, everyone’s hands will smell like gasoline, and – this is my favourite – people don’t KNOW how to pump their own gas. I am the first to admit I am a total idiot when it comes to my car – I don’t even know how to open the hood – but even I can pump my own gas. It’s really not hard. Suffice it to say that if I can do something, vehicle-wise, than it’s pretty much a guarantee even the village idiot can. Just don’t go all Zoolander at the gas station and you’ll be fine, people of Oregon.

Plinko Record SMASHED

Anyone who has watched The Price Is Right is well aware of two things: the commercials during the breaks are awesome, and Plinko is the very best game there is. This fellow from Cleveland SMASHED the previous Plinko record and went home with $39,200!

That’s enough to buy a NEW CAR.

Raw Water is a Thing Now

Years ago I remember talking to someone about iodine tablets to put in drinking water, while on a trip to Nepal. Iodine, she said, might not be the best thing but it’s better than explosive diarrhea on the hiking trail. Truer words were never spoken. But now, apparently, drinking unfiltered, untreated water is a Thing. Tap water – or even filtered bottled water – is for suckers. I live in close proximity to the Rocky Mountains, and while spring water may SEEM pristine and fresh, there’s a little thing called Beaver Fever. Or cholera. Although…if your New Year’s Resolution is to lose weight, there would be nothing more effective than contracting dysentery, so maybe this Raw Water Thing is really going to catch on!

Boyhouse Year in Review 2017

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It’s Friday, right? Yes. It’s Friday. I’m in that happy state of mind that occurs between Christmas and New Year’s in which I’m not one hundred percent sure of the day or what I’m supposed to be doing, but it’s FRIDAY. Yes. It is.

It’s also time for the Boyhouse Year in Review! Political weirdness notwithstanding, 2017 was a happy and healthy year; there were ups and downs, lots of changes, the requisite busyness, lessons learned and resolutions mostly kept. Here’s what was the buzz around here:

January

I resolved to focus more singularly on tasks rather than becoming a multi-tasking hummingbird, I recalled my childhood ambition of growing up to be an actual flower and then being devastated to learn about plant cycles, and we bought a trampoline!

February

A “Shakira Law” doughnut (Shakira, heh) prompted me to mention that researching facts before stating strongly held opinions is underrated yet essential, I admitted to my internal struggle between self-love and my Resting Bitch Face, and I discovered that the 7th grade physical education curriculum included learning the Cadillac Ranch AND Cotton Eyed Joe line dances, which made me hope that they would also Sweat to the Oldies.

March

I finished my very last week as Book Fair Lady before handing over the How Much Are The Posters reins to my successor, I read The Life Changing Magic of Not Giving A Fuck and was kind of disappointed, and I went bathing suit shopping.

April

We went to Mexico for spring break and I became immensely spoiled (or, more immensely spoiled), I realized – not for the first time – that being mentally flexible is much harder than being physically flexible, and, relatedly, I realized that walking the walk is very, very difficult.

I also turned 42!

May

The squirrels ate all of my bulbs, all of them, gardening season started with a bang as I bought a ton of plants from the school fundraiser, and the neighbourhood had a coyote problem that I secretly hoped would take care of the squirrel problem. 

June

I wrote a weirdly long post about bathroom cleaners, if you read nothing else please read this post about favourite outfits of my teen years, and I talked a lot about red wine and cowboy boots.

July

Summer started off with lots of heat and fun as I realized – not for the first time – that time is slipping away, I discussed how I really don’t mind cargo shorts but I think the poop emoji is an abomination, and I realized sadly that if I was a character in Pride and Prejudice that I would probably be Charlotte Lucas.

August

My closet was bursting at the seams and so I started the one-year shopping challenge, I talked about my bathroom renovation, five years post-renovation, and my husband and I went on a trip WITHOUT THE KIDS. 

September

The kids went back to school – both in junior high – and I quit my work-at-home job to focus on yoga teaching, it poured rain at the first cross-country meet and then snowed, and my 13-year-old left for a week in Quebec. 

October

As we adjusted to not having the 13-year-old at home, there was an honest-to-god blizzard and I went to Costco despite that, I laughed about “for best results” on a tube of toothpaste, and I was reprimanded by the universe for laughing.

November

I finished Christmas shopping, I prepared for the festive baking season by posting the best sugar cookie recipe ever, and I aired grievances a month prior to Festivus.

December

I talked about my Tree Decorating Personality, I bought bananas at Costco which turned out to be a weird mistake, and I talked about Shopping Cart Karma.

So that was 2017, in a nutshell. Happy New Year to all of you, and all the best in 2018. See you in January! xo

Yes! We have no bananas! We have no bananas today.

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Is Mercury in retrograde or is this the prelude to Ladies’ Holidays, I wondered blearily to myself yesterday, conceding my tiredness could also be due to general busyness, I-guess-I’m-that-age-now interrupted sleep cycles, and the pervading darkness of December. A quick check to the calendar pointed to all of the above. But that was yesterday; what a difference a day makes.

I am having a fabulous day, no thanks to the hour and a half I lay awake last night after Roomba mysteriously started by itself and woke me up at 2:00 am. After shutting off the phantom robot, I lay awake with Baby, It’s Cold Outside running through my head, only to fall asleep for an hour before awakening for the day. By all rights, that should have left me crabby and tired but, in fact, I have been oddly energetic and pleasant.

Just when you feel despair for all of humankind, something wonderful happens to restore faith in humanity, and for me that was the elderly lady I saw yesterday in the Costco parking lot, neatly rearranging all of the jumbled carts in the corral. I very nearly threw the car in park and jumped out, but there were several cars behind me and I didn’t want to evoke road rage. So I will just say here: Madam, you are doing the lord’s work.

Then today – because grocery shopping never ends for me, apparently – I decided to stop in the Superstore liquor store after picking up my usual weekly groceries. A young woman stocking the shelves smiled at me and said “Oh my god, I love your hair, it looks so fabulous” and that is a thing I do not hear often, and so I, like the Virgin Mary, treasured that and pondered it in my heart. If that wasn’t enough joy, the Superstore liquor store had this:

Dairy-free Baileys, you guys! Honestly, everything is coming up Nicole today.

Not unrelated, I want to talk about something important: bananas. We – as you might guess – go through what I feel is an insane amount of fruit and vegetables each week. In a good way. Bananas are a staple in this house, even though only three out of four of us eat them. Well, four out of five, if you include Barkley. I have a frozen banana in my smoothie every day, and the other two banana eaters average a banana a day. I also make banana bread and muffins, and so our average weekly banana intake is 21-24 bananas, sometimes more. I like to buy a variety of ripeness as I like ripe bananas for my smoothie, extremely ripe and kind of gross looking bananas to freeze for later muffin/ loaf making, and then, of course, we need some that are a bit greenish and just nicely yellow for raw consumption.

Exactly fifteen days ago I bought bananas from Costco. I hadn’t bought them there before but all their other produce, with the exception of peppers, I have found to be exceptional, so I assumed bananas would be no different. However, they were very green. I bought two large bunches, thinking that within a day or two they would be fine for raw consumption. I had already had a surplus frozen for smoothies.

This is what the bananas looked like after a WEEK on my counter.

Still completely inedible. That one yellowish banana I placed in a paper bag with an avocado, which ripened. The banana did not. At this point, desperation was setting in and I went to Superstore and bought more bananas. At that point I had forty bananas on my counter.

Forty bananas, you guys. The ones on the left are the Costco ones, the ones on the right from Superstore: as you can see, in a variety of ripeness.

The days passed and yesterday marked two weeks since the purchase of the original Costco bananas.

One bunch, STILL GREEN, HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE? WHAT KIND OF BANANAS ARE THESE? The others ripened with the notable exception of the one that was in a paper bag, which made me wonder if I was in some kind of banana bizzaro world.

This morning the greens are still green but the yellows are deteriorating at an alarming rate:

I am becoming really invested in the fate of these bananas; like it’s my own personal science experiment. Will the greens ever ripen? Or will it be like a McDonald’s hamburger that – allegedly, I’ve never tried this – will never mould even if left on the counter for months.

Meanwhile, I am digging up all the containers I can find to freeze the bananas as they devolve into brown-spotted mush. For those of you interested, I freeze super-over-ripe bananas in groups of three, and when they thaw they are disgustingly perfect for baking. And if you’re looking for the easiest banana bread recipe ever, here it is! It’s from my friend Maureen’s mom, and I always think of it that way.

Maureen’s Mom’s Banana Bread

3 ripe bananas, mashed (or if using frozen, thawed)

6 tablespoons vegetable oil (I always use grapeseed)

1 tablespoon vanilla (this is a deviation from Maureen’s mom’s recipe, I just like a lot of vanilla. Original quantity is 1 teaspoon, if you’re not into a tablespoon)

1/2 cup brown sugar

1 egg, lightly beaten (or use a flax egg)

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 1/2 cups flour

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Spray or grease a loaf pan. Mix together mushy bananas, oil, vanilla, and sugar. Add egg, mix well. Stir in the dry ingredients. Pour into pan. Bake for 45 minutes. Voila! I usually use my stand mixer and the whole thing comes together in under ten minutes. Super easy, and delicious!

It’s December; what’s your Tree Decorating Personality?

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The other day my husband said that the month of November dragged and dragged and seemed to go on forever, and honestly, I felt like I couldn’t relate at all. November FLEW by for me, in that I keep thinking that it was just Halloween the other day, and now it’s December. I mean, I’ve been feeling festive for the past couple of weeks, as is my wont at this time of year, but I keep feeling like my life is a speeded-up cartoon of pages flying off a daily calendar.

On Wednesday I went to the post office to mail the Christmas parcel to my mother-and-sister-in-law, and as I walked through the parking lot I saw a man standing outside of the Tim Horton’s, having a cigarette. This would not be notable in the least, except that the man in question looked exactly like Santa Claus: he had a long, well-kept white beard, rosy cheeks, a generally round shape, and – this might be speculation on my part – a jolly demeanor. I wondered if he WAS the mall Santa Claus; although he wasn’t wearing a red suit, he was wearing a red t-shirt, and anyway it would be more than likely that he would change for his smoke break, so as to not disturb the young children who had just sat on his lap in the pretend North Pole in the mall. Nevertheless, I did wonder if he WAS the mall Santa, would children recognize him even without the suit, and if so, how would their parents explain this? Even Santa deserves a break, maybe, or Santa has a stressful job at this time of year. I thought about this all through the lineup at the post office, imagining this stranger, who had done nothing whatever to deserve this thought process, other than having a Santa-like appearance, was actually the real Santa, picturing his smoke breaks during toy-making supervision, and the elves smoking with him with their tiny elf-sized mugs of super-strong coffee, talking with a “HEY! I’m WALKING here!” New York accent. I thought about this until I got back to my car and then realized that I was letting my imagination run away with me, and speculation is just that, speculation, and most likely the fellow in question was not Santa in any shape or form, only a kind-looking, if hirsute, older gentleman.

Not that I’d begrudge Santa his smoke break – it would be tiring sitting there with screaming infants and parents trying to coax a smile out of their terrified toddlers, who intuitively know not to sit on a stranger’s lap and tell that stranger secrets for any amount of candy canes. Have you been a good girl this year? But a smoking Santa might be a little stinky for the kids.

Long story short, now is the time to visit the post office. The lineup was negligible and the clerks are not as downtrodden and exhausted as they will be three weeks from now.

What’s the gift-and-card-for-the-in-laws situation in your house? For what it’s worth, I take this task on myself. I know many people have a “your family, you do the gift” policy, but a) I find I’m probably more suited to shop for a seventy-five-year-old woman than my husband is, b) I have a much more flexible schedule, and c) broadly speaking, once two people are joined in holy matrimony those two people should – IDEALLY – consider the spouse’s family to be their own. Ideally. In any case, it’s all done and mailed now.

I am also the person in charge of holiday cards, for the very good reason that I am the only person who cares about holiday cards. I am the person who chooses the photo, the layout, and the inside message. I make sure to include “from Barkley too, woof!” as I do every year, and I write out and address each one. I do not let anyone near them – which, as I said, no one is really clamouring to help – because to say I’m particular about them is an understatement.

I mention this so you know that I am not judging the people involved in my next topic. I know we all have our things. Lately I have seen a lot of posts about women, exclusively women, who either a) redecorate their Christmas tree after their children decorate it, or b) do not let their children decorate the tree at all. No judgement here, but I cannot relate in the least. Decorating the tree is a full-on family affair in the Boyhouse and hoo boy, can you tell. I love it. I love our extremely eclectic collection of ornaments and I love to see the perfect arrangement of ornaments through my kids’ eyes. Every year I add one or two ornaments to our collection, something to remind me of the year that has passed, and so we have a lot of interesting trinkets; a tractor from when the boys were obsessed with John Deere, a beautiful ball with an Inukshut on it from 2010, a fat moose from the year I was pregnant with the oldest and was enormous.

Did you know that there is much spirited debate in the world about white versus coloured lights? I did not but never fear: our tree has a setting for both, and the lights oscillate between the two. See?

I love when the kids jam several ornaments on one branch; they do that because they think the ornaments want to be together, which melts my heart.

Clue – a gift from my parents – plus two homemade candy canes and, surprisingly, Superman.

A stormtrooper with Ben 10 and a few assorted Cars movie ornaments.

I bought this admittedly tacky Disney castle with Mickey Mouse last year, at Disney World. It reminds me of watching the fireworks show, and how wonderful and special that was. A dream is a wish your heart makes, when you’re fast asleep.

This came from Disneyland, back in 2011. The kids LOVED the Buzz Lightyear ride.

My mom had given the boys these ornaments when they were – as you may guess – four and five, and I love that they are together. Also: Scooby Doo and my marshmallow “Kiss the Cook.”

My mother-in-law gave me this bowl years ago. I keep it filled with driftwood, shells, and smooth rocks from trips my husband and I made to the West Coast, before kids. The vintage ornaments get added at Christmas, and they were also a gift from her. I love the 1960s feel of them.

My husband, bless his heart, spends at least eight hours putting up outdoor Christmas decorations. Not only do we have lights – white icicles and red bulbs – along with lighted deer, trees, gift boxes, a hippo, penguins, snowmen, a moose, and an entire candy cane lane – which he bought for me because I always wanted one – he also decorates our large Mayday tree with glittery ornaments.

Sadly, two of them detached from their hooks. I went to Walmart to buy Gorilla Glue, feeling like an I am Woman Hear Me Roar type. I went to the DIY section, giggling because DIY always reminds me of that line in The 40-Year-Old Virgin, “Do you like to Do It Yourself?” Anyway, there were many different kinds of Gorilla Glue but I chose wisely, I think. When I told my husband, expecting praise for doing what I would strongly consider a Blue Job, he nervously texted me to ask me to please wait until he got home before fixing the ornaments. I think he thought I would glue myself to the table, or perhaps glue my hands together or one hand to my face or something. Given my track record for fixing things, this was probably warranted.

My husband also strung lights on the garage so when I’m making dinner, I don’t have to stare out the window into the pitch-black abyss. It really brightens my mood. He also set the timer so that the lights come on just as I’m driving home from yoga in the wee hours of the morning, and it always makes me happy.

Happy December, my friends. I wish you a month of joy and festivity, and no fingers glued together. xo

Why do we have two Agent P? I don’t know, but I’m glad they’re together.

Nicole’s Mom’s Sugar Cookies, a.k.a., the best sugar cookies known to humankind

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Yesterday we had another big snowfall; I don’t even know how many that makes so far this year – four? five? I have already lost count – but I watched the thick, fluffy flakes fall from the sky and it was like a switch turned on in my brain.

As I had mentioned in my last post, I have finished my shopping, but I will tell you this: the super-festive-Nicole-the-Elf feeling did not kick in until yesterday. And hoo boy, has it kicked in. Keep my husband in your thoughts, for I think I may be already driving him crazy. This morning, as I sipped on my seventh – yes, seventh – cup of coffee, I talked in a rapid-fire voice about how I had picked up extra coconut milk and I was thinking maybe this year I’d make peppermint truffles in addition to my usual dark chocolate, and I wonder if dipping some in white chocolate would be good, or too much, and should I roll them in crushed candy canes? He just looked at me in the way you might look at someone who is in danger of spinning off the earth, at 7:00 am, and then left for work.

I ventured out into the Winter Wonderland yesterday to pick up a few items from my local Co-Op, and when I walked in became immediately immobilized when confronted by the giant festive display inside the store. When I say “immobilized,” I mean I stood there staring at all the items for sale for at least five minutes before strolling over to pick up bread, avocados, and peppermint extract, and then circled back to choose three different kinds of candy canes.

Speaking of peppermint extract, has anyone else found it difficult to obtain lately? Is there a shortage? When I find it, the price seems to be the same, but it has been hard to find lately.

So the house is now stocked appropriately with coconut milk, chocolate, peppermint extract, molasses, and candy canes; all things I need for my usual holiday baking sweatshop. There’s just one little issue: I don’t have a whole lot of people to bake FOR.

See, here’s the thing: when the kids were in elementary school, there was always a bake sale or a classroom party or a potluck for the teachers to bake for. This year: nothing. And while the kids are in the human-garburator stage of life where they eat so much it makes one’s head spin, they really cannot eat eight dozen cookies prior to those cookies going stale. They really can’t. And yet, I have already made double batches of both sugar cookie and gingerbread dough, both sitting in my freezer, waiting for the day they come alive to be eaten. And that doesn’t even account for my giant batch of gingersnaps I make come December. When I told my older son that we would have at least eighty gingerbread men to decorate and I wasn’t sure why I had made so many, he said “It’s okay, Mom, we can give them away to people!”

Bless the child. YES WE WILL. So prepare yourself, people in my circles, because you will be the recipient of baked goods this year. I’m already planning my random acts of cookies so watch out, you might have something sweet forced on you, and if I’ve had as much coffee as I’ve had this morning, you may be alarmed at my beaming face.

But this recipe! Recently a friend asked me for it and I was appalled to see that I did not have it anywhere online. Let me tell you, it is my number one most popular cookie recipe. My kids’ friends are always asking me to send it to their moms, teachers used to email me for it, and I have sent it out myriad times. Yet, I have never blogged it*. This is my mom’s sugar cookie recipe and I am just going to humbly tell you that it is no-fail, amazing every time. Well, once it failed since I forgot the baking powder. But if you actually follow the recipe, it’s no-fail. My friends used to love these cookies when my mom made them, back in my childhood days, and now my kids’ friends do, and it feels like this beautiful cookie-circle-of-life.

Nicole’s Mom’s Sugar Cookie Recipe

1 cup butter, softened

1 1/2 cups granulated sugar

1 tablespoon vanilla

2 eggs

3 cups flour

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon salt

Cream together butter, sugar, and vanilla until fluffy. Beat in eggs. Mix in flour, baking powder, and salt.

THIS IS THE IMPORTANT STEP: EITHER CHILL THIS FOR TWO HOURS UNTIL EASY TO HANDLE, OR FORM INTO 2-3 BALLS, WRAP, AND FREEZE UNTIL YOU FEEL LIKE CUTTING OUT 7 DOZEN COOKIES. I usually make the dough, freeze it, and then a few weeks later, actually bake the cookies. Pro-tip! You don’t have to do everything at once.

On baking day, obviously you will have thawed the dough, but kept it refrigerated. Preheat oven to 350 degrees, or 325 for convection oven. Line baking sheets with parchment paper and do not think for a moment that you can skip this step! Use the parchment paper, trust me.

Roll out dough on floured surface, about 1/4 inch thick. Cut into festive shapes (for birthdays I make stars, for Valentine’s, hearts, and for Halloween, there are cats, pumpkins, and ghosts). Bake for 10 minutes, until edges are browned. I like very soft cookies, if you like crunchier ones, then add a couple of minutes to bake time. Allow to cool before frosting.

Now, some of you (HI LIV, MELODY, AND AMANDA) are die-hard pipe-and-flood types, but I, alas, am not. I am more a “whimsical smear of buttercream with a few random sprinkles” kind of a cookie decorator. There is room for all of us in this world. If you, like me, are limited in your decorating abilities, then I recommend the following delicious frosting to spread on the cookies:

Nicole’s Easy Buttercream

1/2 cup very soft butter

4 cups icing sugar

1 tablespoon vanilla

2-3 tablespoons milk

Cream together the butter, icing sugar, and vanilla (add the icing sugar slowly or you’ll have a hot mess of a countertop). Add the milk to thin to the correct consistency. This might yield slightly more frosting than you need, but YOU CAN FREEZE IT TOO. Amazing. Add food colouring if you wish. Get ready for compliments, people!

*edited to add: apparently I have already blogged about these cookies! But, the recipe is so nice, we can have it twice.