Category Archives: Weather or not

This Is Not An April Fool, I Really Am Cross As Two Sticks

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I have been Quite Cross this week; not Constantly Cross, but Intermittently So. Some of my You’re On My Last Nerve feeling could probably be attributed to hormones and upcoming ladies’ holidays, the looming “third-wave” of Covid cases, the super-slow vaccine rollout that is seeing people get their second shot FOUR MONTHS after their first, and the fact that it was spring break and the most excitement I had to look forward to was cracking open the extra-large bag of Mini-Eggs, but much of it was just General Ridiculousness and Can People Even Do Their Jobs.

On Monday morning I got a call from the orthodontist’s office; I assumed before picking up that it was simply a reminder call for our appointment for my son to pick up his retainer, for which the orthodontist took impressions of his teeth the week previous. Instead of an automated message, it was an actual person, who began explaining to me in great detail that the orthodontist took impressions of my son’s teeth in order to make the retainer that we were to pick up. Yes, yes, do go on. After a few minutes of this, the woman relayed the real reason for the call: the lab had somehow broken the impression and instead of picking up the retainer, my son would have to get impressions all over again. Then, we could pick the retainer up the day after that.

Accidents occur and these things happen, but honestly, can anything be easy and straightforward with this son’s orthodontia? Can it? The answer, of course, is no. From the initial criminal orthodontist to the one that put on brackets that had to be replaced, to finding a new orthodontist, who only happens to work in Calgary every other week, to my son actually breaking brackets, to a global pandemic that slowed his treatment by at least six months, to a twisted tooth from the bracket being on the wrong tooth that was attached to his elastics, to a process that took a solid eight months longer than anticipated. I mean, of course the lab broke his impressions. Of course we have to go to the orthodontic office three times in the space of one week, of course I am running out of ink in my printer printing off Covid consent forms because there is no online option. WHY is there no online option? Why am I printing things out like it’s 2010?

Anyway, we have the retainer, and I celebrated to myself prematurely about being free from the orthodontist office, as my son informed me that we needed another appointment in a month and then one every two months after that. “Every two months…for how long?” I asked, picturing me sitting in the parking lot until he’s an actual adult. He didn’t know. No one knows. Forever, I guess.

My second grumble was with the veterinary office. Barkley has a recurring medication that I refill about once every two months, and the vet has a really great system wherein I call and leave a message, asking for a text when it’s ready. I always get a text within a day or two, and then I wait in the parking lot for them to bring it out to my car (pre-Covid I would just pop in and pick it up). Anyway, eight days had passed since I called and I hadn’t heard a word, so I called the office to speak to someone directly, and after being put on hold, hung up on, and calling back, I finally spoke with a woman who told me that the medication had been sitting there FOR EIGHT DAYS. She told me a text had been sent, I said I hadn’t received it, and in my mind, a Deadlock Had Been Reached. I didn’t really care what happened, I was just going to come and pick up the medication, and I said as much to the woman in a pleasant voice. “No!” she said. “We NEED to find out what happened so it doesn’t happen again! Maybe we can call you!” I said, it’s fine, a text is fine, this has never happened before, it’s a glitch. Then, the woman suggested that the fault was MINE, that I must have deleted the text, because the text had been sent, therefore it must have been delivered to me.

Hold up there, lady. I am not a time-traveller from another era, unfamiliar with this little glowing machine in my hand that pings every once in a while to let me know that there is communication that went from another person to space and back. I don’t even receive that many texts, let alone texts that I would just randomly delete. Also, I could see the text chain from the vet office, with the last text being from January, exactly two months before. The text has not been deleted, I cannot say what happened but it is NOT THAT.

The final Source of My Crossness has to do with a company that has efficiently and reliably delivered floral arrangements and gift baskets for me on many, many occasions over the past decade, including – and this is important – to my parents. I have been always happy with this company, up until a couple of weeks ago, when I ordered flowers for the occasion of my parents’ wedding anniversary. I waited to hear from my mother, and waited, and waited. Finally I asked if she had received anything – no – and then checked my confirmation emails over and over to see if I had erred on the date or address. It would be unbelievably out of character for this to happen, but you never know. I had not erred.

Finally, my mother texted me to say that my parents had gone out to pick up the flowers from the Purolator depot, and thank you, they were lovely. Wait, what? My PARENTS, who are senior citizens, had to go out IN A GLOBAL PANDEMIC to pick up their own flowers for which I had PAID A DELIVERY FEE OF FIFTEEN DOLLARS, to be delivered TO THEIR HOME. Let me tell you, I was pretty unhappy with this turn of events. I sent a strongly-worded email to the company TWO WEEKS AGO, and not a word have I had in response.

What if my parents were infirm? What if they had no access to a car? What if they had Covid or any other illness for which people often send flowers? What did I pay a delivery fee for if the flowers were not to be delivered? I am LIVID about this, not just about their shoddy customer service and radio silence, but also, now I have to find a new floral/ gift basket delivery company. SUGGESTIONS WELCOME.

Other, smaller grievances include our customary Spring Gusting Winds, which have been blowing all the needles off of my neighbour’s evergreen tree into our yard, which means that our mudroom is constantly covered with dead evergreen needles which seem to get everywhere: into my boots – discovered only when walking and one dislodges and stabs me in the toe – on Barkley’s fur, and into everyone’s feet any time we walk downstairs, for a painful reminder of Spring. Also, for mysterious reasons, frozen petit peas have been completely unavailable at Superstore, which everyone knows are far superior to those tough, bigger peas and there are rumblings again of a toilet paper shortage – although, apparently in Canada we have our OWN toilet paper manufacturers. We are, apparently, Toilet Paper Self-Sufficient, even if we don’t have enough vaccines, so I guess that’s something. At least we will not have to resort to wet washcloths, which is a plus.

My final grievance is that I painstakingly chopped up Mini-Eggs to stir into homemade vanilla ice cream as a Special Holiday Treat, and after I complained about how chopping Mini-Eggs is a bitch of a job, someone mentioned that I could have used a food processor. WHY WAS I NOT SMART ENOUGH TO THINK OF THAT? Oh, and also, I had a coupon for $6 off a $60 purchase at Co-Op, and when I got to the till I was at $57, and I panicked and bought caramel eggs that were 2 for $3, and later saw that same exact item at Superstore for $0.88, and this has bothered me ENORMOUSLY. Like, that extra $1.24 I spent to get $6 off feels disproportionately wasteful.

Well. That’s enough grievances to last a while. My Sith name today is, apparently, General Grievance. Time to move on with life, and maybe grab a handful of the leftover Mini-Eggs. xo

Trying New Things; Fifty-One Weeks In

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March is, to me, a Winter Month, and so any week like the one we have just had, with above-freezing temperatures and sunny days, is a gift. As god is my witness, one day I will live where March is a Spring Month and Spring means Actual Spring, not a wildly unpredictable mix of mild days, violent snowstorms, gale force winds, and hard frosts into June, but that day is not today. Bloom where you’re planted, etcetera.

I’ve been thinking a lot about something Allison (HI ALLISON) mentioned to me, that this past week was, one year ago, the last “normal” week before the pandemic hit. This time last year, I was one hundred percent certain we would be going on our spring break trip to Mexico; I was busily preparing for that and for my son going on his Westcoast sailing trip immediately on our return. We were joking with my son about the climate fluctuations he was going to be enduring as I tried to figure out how many warm clothes we could pack in one small duffle bag.

It’s so strange to think about it; the STRESS I was feeling about packing for not one but TWO trips. I was at the parent information night for the sailing trip around this time last year, and I saw my friend Cindy (HI CINDY). As always, I dove in for a big hug and then pulled away from her, saying “Wait, are we not supposed to hug these days?” She laughed and told me not to be silly and we hugged again.

Well. Things change, roll with the punches.

A few years ago, a little day spa opened up right up the street from me, about half a kilometer away; I like to support small neighbourhood businesses, especially ones that are within a five minute walk. The prices for waxing were great and the esthetician on staff was around my age and very bossy, which is a trait I genuinely admire in an esthetician. I want someone who is not afraid to make judgements about my bikini line and who will get right in there with tweezers and a frown, if need be.

One thing you may already know about me is that, as a consumer, I am extremely loyal. I will patronize the same shops and services for years; I will purchase the same brands and am devastated time and again when things get discontinued. If I like something I will stay with it until the bitter end.

When I was, back in March 2020, preparing for my Mexico trip, I had a bikini wax booked for the day before departure. That wax, of course, was cancelled when everything was shut down, and of course I had many more important concerns than a fuzzy bikini line. But as time went by that yeti-like feeling started to get to me and I, riding high on the success of colouring my own hair, decided to give myself a bikini wax, which led to the conclusion that some things really are best left to the professionals.

So, I trundled back to the little day spa just as soon as it reopened, and my lovely bossy older esthetician was gone, replaced by a very lovely young girl. To be clear, I have been waxing my bikini line for longer than she has been alive, but I am not a reverse ageist: I love the enthusiasm and energy of youth, and I strongly believe that we are all beginners at one time and experience helps us grow. However. Three substandard waxes later along with a story about how the young esthetician had once “accidentally ripped a woman’s butthole,” and I had to concede defeat. This little day spa was no longer for me. I just couldn’t pay good money anymore to have a patchy wax, extremely irritated skin, and a day in which my clothes would stick to the unremoved wax on my inner thighs and bikini line. The last straw was when I went to use the bathroom at home and the toilet seat stuck to the leftover wax. Sorry for the indelicate imagery, but I think we all can agree I left delicacy behind years ago.

Back in the fall my friend M, who shall remain M for privacy (HI M), recommended body sugaring to me. At the time I wasn’t open to the idea as I was still committed to SUPPORTING LOCAL AND WALKING TO THE DAY SPA, but after the Toilet Seat Incident and Ripped Butthole Story, as well as shelling out for waxes I was unhappy with, I decided to give it a try.

You guys, it is life changing. Life Changing. I will never go back to waxing again. It is a little more intimate than waxing – there is no underwear involved, for example – but it is nearly painless and with almost no redness or irritation. By the end of the day, I had no redness at all, as opposed to waxing where I seem to need a full 24 hours to recover. The esthetician uses what appears to be a giant ball of slime to remove the hair, and the whole thing was over in about fifteen minutes. Plus, no traumatizing stories told while in an extremely compromising position! The sugaring location was also conveniently located down the street from one of my very dear friends, so while I wasn’t able to walk there, I got to have a ten-minute standing-on-the-front-step chat with my friend, who I haven’t seen in many many months. I call that a win all-round.

Outfit of the Week

This puffy coat is adorable, but it’s pretty much useless for the winter months here; it’s way too light for below-zero temperatures. I feel like Vancouver-based Lululemon has a very different idea about Cold Temperatures than I do. However! We have had a lovely week and so the coat came back into the rotation this week, for a nice long solo walk to the nearby nature park.

Yoga tights WITHOUT legwarmers AND hiking boots, not winter boots! Don’t get too excited, the winter boots are still very much in use, just not for a 7 kilometer walk.

I was feeling kind of lonely and then I was joined by this sweet little lady!

Pandemic Reading

Rainn Wilson has led this incredibly interesting life, and he has fascinating spiritual beliefs, and yet this book is so dull and boring. I don’t know how such an interesting life journey could result in such an uninteresting memoir, but here we are.

Another disappointment. This fell really flat for me. I found the characters to be one-dimensional and the storyline was just a bit too contrived and cliched for me.

Have a beautiful week, everyone, and as we come into the anniversary of the lockdown, take care of yourselves. Be kind. xo

Blue, Baby, Blue; Forty-Nine Weeks In

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Last week I had one of those days wherein you wake up and everything seems absolutely unbearable. I felt absolutely despondent; everything seemed terrible, from the dishes in the drying rack to the never-ending laundry to the every day drudgery that never ends until I die. I went through my regular happy-cheerful-healthy morning routine and I still felt blue; I realized the last time that I was this far in the depths of despair, my period arrived some hours later.

Well! I decided that this despondent mood was a SIGN from my body, and that I would walk the walk and embrace that magical time with some self-care. I took a solo walk and made myself a chocolate protein smoothie with a big bowl of sliced strawberries, I spent two hours just curled in a chair reading, I played the piano.

And then…nothing.

This is the thing about perimenopause, at least this is the thing for me: the Garmin period tracker on my phone is ready to uninstall itself from frustration. My cycle has never been super-regular, other than the many years I was on the Pill, but since hitting my forties it has gone from That Friend Who Is Sometimes On Time But Not Usually to That Wild Friend Who Does A Bunch Of Tequila Shots And Who Might End Up In Vegas Later Tonight, Who Really Knows What’s Up. Three weeks? Three months? We’ll see!

This kind of wild irregularity makes some things tricky, like booking a bikini wax or a Pap test, or blaming one’s cycle for one’s moods.

It’s silly though, why should I blame hormones for having a despondent day? I mean, really. It’s February, cold and snowy, I’m not running right now and I miss it terribly, I spend many hours every week just doing drudge-like household chores that literally never end, the laundry will never end, there will always be food to acquire and prepare and clean up after, people using the shower and bathroom mean that those things will need cleaning, and yes, yes, yes, I am not the only person in the house who does these things, I am not living with entitled Neanderthals BUT I do the lion’s share, there is no travel to look forward to nor dinner and drinks with friends, I cannot even host the girls for a coffee date and even if it was warm enough to be in my backyard, the lawn furniture is frozen and covered with snow, and also, due to the snow and cold, we have been unable to clean up after the dog since before Christmas.

It’s OKAY to feel sad, is what I’m saying.

The whole thing reminded me of a story told to me years ago by my friend Eryn (HI ERYN). Eryn’s friend mentioned that her Aunt Flo was coming for a visit, and Eryn responded with “Fuck that bitch,” but it turned out that her friend had an ACTUAL aunt named Flo who was actually coming for a visit. I laugh every time, EVERY TIME, I think of that story, which is every time I think I’m going to start my period and then nothing happens. FUCK THAT BITCH.

Ah well, the sun has come back out, both literally and figuratively. Eventually my period did start, with no fanfare, mood swings, or other warning. I no longer feel like a Donkey On The Edge, even though I have no more dark chocolate strawberry Lindt truffles. My new raised garden beds are slated to arrive soon, I’ve ordered a ton of plants from my very favourite plant fundraiser (HI ALANA), and the vaccinations are starting around here. It will be months before I can actually garden and many more months after that before I get a vaccine, but those things are going to happen and they are a glimmer of hope, a sunbeam in a blue sky.

Outfit of the Week

The polar vortex has ended! The polar vortex has ended! It’s still winter, it’s still cold, but it’s not The Air Hurts My Face cold! This week’s OOTW features not only a cozy sweater and a lighter long-sleeve tee, but also JEANS and and actual BRA, not just yoga pants and a tank. A bra, you guys! Jeans! It happens a couple of times a week around here, but still notable.

This sweater is like being wrapped up in a giant hug. Remember hugs? No? Well, this sweater is like that.

It’s certainly long enough to wear with yoga leggings, or anything at all. When I bought it the reviews said to “size down” but DO NOT SIZE DOWN. It’s so cozy this way.

Pandemic Reading

It is well documented how I love Nora Ephron, so I really expected to like this book more than I did. It was…okay. I liked reading about the making of the greatest movie of all time – When Harry Met Sally – but otherwise, meh.

This is the companion book to Life After Life, although it does stand up very well by itself. It’s really excellent, about a RAF bomber in WW2 who vows to lead a life of kindness if he makes it out. It’s about his time in the war but also his life before and after that time. There are some absolutely vile and loathsome characters in the book, but the great thing about Kate Atkinson is that she can make you think about how they became so vile and loathsome, and treats the characters with compassion. I liked Life After Life a bit better, but both are really good.

After Suzanne (HI SUZANNE) mentioned reading Judy Blume to her daughter, I had an enormous craving to revisit my old favourites. I put many of them on hold at the library and these two were the first to come in. They really stand up, and it’s interesting to think they were written in the early 70s, when there was a movement from NYC to the suburbs. As a kid I really thought of Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret as being a book about getting your period, which it is, in a way, but it’s more about religion and finding belonging. Her father is Jewish and her mother is Christian, and so they don’t practice either religion, which is a curiosity in the suburbs of New Jersey in 1970. There is a whole storyline about how her mother’s parents disowned her after the marriage, which reminded me of how far we have come in this world. My religious, strongly Lutheran grandma, for example, was absolutely shocked to discover that my husband was brought up Catholic. Catholic! She had some reservations. Back in HER day in rural Saskatchewan, that was considered a mixed marriage.

I remember reading Then Again Maybe I Won’t when I was a kid, and it was the first time I had even HEARD of wet dreams. Or of guys getting boners in math class. Talk about disturbing! I had no idea! But, as in Margaret, the underlying theme is so much more than puberty and changing bodies. How do people change when there is money involved? Tony’s family strikes it rich and EVERYTHING changes, and Tony suffers massive stomach pains due to anxiety, and ends up in hospital.

God, Judy Blume was a master at writing books that really covered the bases. I will update you on the next few that come in from the library!

Meanwhile, I hope you have a wonderful week – this last week of February, my goodness – and may you have sunshine and blue skies. xo

Baby, It’s Cold Outside; Forty-Eight Weeks In

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I don’t know if it was the polar vortex that settled itself on us, or the two days off of school because of Teacher’s Convention, or the fact that all four of us had dental appointments, but last week felt like it was six weeks long. I thought it was Thursday on Tuesday, and then Wednesday I was just completely confused all day.

Today is also a holiday; it’s Family Day, the designated day in the midst of winter to spend quality time with one’s family, which is great, because I have HARDLY SPENT ANY TIME with mine in the past eleven months. Clearly this holiday was not created with a pandemic in mind, but still, it’s kind of nice to have an extended long weekend, even with nowhere to go and nothing in particular to do. You know, except for Family Togetherness.

I am happy to say that, even with the polar vortex and temperatures dipping into the MINUS FORTIES with windchill, my step streak is still unbroken. My “looking nice while obtaining said steps” streak has been destroyed, however.

Who am I kidding, that was destroyed weeks ago. There’s nothing quite like iced-over eyelashes, which my friend Barret (HI BARRET) calls Manitoba Mascara.

Well, some places have brutally long, cold winters, some places have oppressively hot summers, some have both (I’m looking at you, Southern Ontario), some places rain a lot, some places have hurricanes and tornadoes and ice storms. Unless we all move to Maui, there is bound to be some weather-related unpleasantness. I have even heard that people who do live in places like Maui “miss the seasonal changes” which, well, I can’t really picture thinking ANYTHING at all would be less than perfect in Maui but who knows. Maybe I too would miss the seasonal changes. I don’t THINK I would miss the Reynaud’s and the aching hands and the never-getting-warm-again feeling of minus 30 but I will reserve judgement.

Back to reality, there is nothing to be done except wait it out and look for my invincible inner summer while reading, working on a Golden Girls puzzle, and drinking a lot of coffee. (Oh, I see you’re a coffee drinker the dental hygienist said conversationally.) I actually watched TWO episodes of the Crown over the weekend, which I count as binge-watching, and is more than I’ve watched over the past four weeks. At this rate I might actually finish Season Four before Season Five comes out. (IS there a Season Five coming out? I have no idea. I am the worst binge-watcher that ever there was.) Happily, things are looking up this week weather-wise, and also, heart-shaped chocolates are now cut-price at the grocery store, so we all win.

Outfit of the Week

So here’s the thing: twice a week I teach zoom yoga from my basement, but on Mondays I actually leave the house – an outing! I’m going somewhere! – to teach zoom yoga from a community centre. As bizarre as it is to be all by myself (cue music) in a giant room, it’s also really nice to, as I said, leave the house.

The only time it’s not great is when there is a polar vortex and the community centre is even colder than normal. Hence this week’s outfit, the warmest one I have!

That sweater is literally like a bathrobe. It is so cozy and warm, and it actually weighs a ton. Underneath is yoga pants, tank, and fairly thick tee for teaching. My friend Amy (HI AMY) made that mala, and it is so meaningful to me. I love it so much.

Quick! Put the sweater back on! Barkley is voicing his concern for my well-being.

Legwarmers, of course! My warmest “teaching” ones, on the cold, cold community centre floor.

All by myselllllfffff, don’t wanna be all by myself, anymore.

Pandemic Reading

Thanks to Allison for recommending this! This biography was the actual inspiration for the musical, and I like to think of Lin-Manuel reading this and thinking, hey, that would make a great song. I mean. How incredible is that. This is full of interesting details – there are SOME dry spots, like the writing of the Federalist papers – and really paints a picture of what life was like in the Caribbean and in America at that time. I was pretty fascinated by the description of the Caribbean and the sugar industry in the late 1700s; it was pretty wild and disturbing. The politics of the time really foreshadow the American Civil War, and it’s really interesting to see it all laid out.

I really wish there was more information available about Eliza Hamilton, and Lin-Manuel probably took some poetic license there about her burning all her letters after the Reynolds pamphlet, but it could be true. I mean, her husband described in detail his extramarital affair; I would probably burn everything too. Maybe even the house. Maybe even my husband IN the house.

Did you know that Hamilton was instrumental in starting up the textile manufacturing industry in America? I did not! It is also another piece of the set-up to the Civil War, seeing the North industrializing while the South stayed more agricultural, and, of course, relying on slavery to do so. Lots of information to digest in this one, and it’s a long book, so take it from me: pause all your other library holds if you take this on.

I am not normally a ghost story/ murder mystery kind of girl, but this was a really fun diversion after reading Alexander Hamilton. It’s the type of book that has plucky Nancy Drew-like characters and two different time periods, that are connected. The description of the 80s outfits and pop culture were PRETTY fun.

This poor puppers hasn’t been for a walk in ten days! Good thing he’s super lazy. The cold is a bit much for his arthritic old hips, so I think he’ll be happy about a milder forecast. You know, if he knew what a forecast was.

Have a beautiful, hopefully half-priced chocolate-filled week! xo

Changing Mindsets; Forty-Seven Weeks In

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I was at Costco a couple of weeks ago and something happened that hasn’t happened since February 2020. As I tried to decide if I needed two or three bags of a particular staple, I went with two, thinking I will be back here in a few weeks, I can get more next time. Did you hear me? I said I can get more next time! Rather than frantically fill up my cart with every staple I could possibly need, I went with a still-substantial, but not crazy amount.

A similar thing happened with olive oil and coffee, COFFEE, as I live and breathe. I went to pick up one of each and thought, no. No. I have two in backup at home and if, for some reason I go through all of that in the three weeks between Costco trips, I can pick it up at the local Co-Op. There is no shortage of coffee nor of olive oil. It will be okay.

I hope I didn’t just jinx things. If there happens to be a shortage of coffee now that I’ve said that, my god, I am sorry. Coffee is not merely a staple item in this house, it’s more like a if-we-run-out-someone-is-going-to-get-stabbed item.

It’s really hard, Really Hard, to change the Pandemic Shopping Mindset. There aren’t – and haven’t been – any shortages of things lately, not that I have noticed, and so there is really NO NEED to have triples and quadruples of staple items in backup. I am trying Very Hard to get to the point where I was, pre-pandemic, comfortable with just one backup of each staple item. Do I need 25 cans of chickpeas in my pantry? No, I do not.

I only need 24.

Well, I SAY there has been no shortage of things but for the last two weeks whole-wheat linguine has been mysteriously absent from Superstore shelves. Every other kind of whole-wheat pasta has been there, filling the shelves and on sale, even, but not linguine. Why? Is there an actual linguine shortage, are people desperately making linguine dishes while eschewing fusilli and penne? I was able, while peeking behind the massive spaghettini display, where the linguine was supposed to be, find one box. It felt like a Real Accomplishment. I mean, I certainly could have done with a different pasta – pasta is pasta – but the moment I discovered I couldn’t have linguine was the exact moment that I NEEDED linguine, so the effects of the pandemic shopping experience are still in my brain.

Speaking of changing mindsets and accomplishing things, when I was reading The Heroine’s Journey, I came across a passage about the way a traditional Native American tribe views menstruation. Very similar to that detailed in The Red Tent, the idea is that menstruation is a time of cleansing, intuition, creativity, and rest. When a woman is pregnant, that energy goes into creating life, and when a woman achieves menopause, it goes into creating wisdom.

Contrast that with our western ideas of The Curse.

I started to wonder if, maybe, we changed our mindset about our periods, would things be different? If, instead of thinking about our periods as a painful and emotional curse, we thought about it as a celebration of womanhood and a time to reflect and care for ourselves? Maybe, just maybe, when we feel exhausted or starving or like we could push our own grandmas out of the way to eat something salty, maybe we could honour that? Maybe instead of pushing through like a machine and crossing things off the to-do list left and right, maybe we could say, hey, I’m really tired, I am going to REST and then I will eat this jar of pickled asparagus because that is what my body wants. Maybe when we feel like stabbing our loved ones for breathing too loud or making chewing noises, we could take that as a sign that it is our magical, special time and we could focus inwards. Maybe instead of constantly doing things for other people while on the emotional pre-menstrual roller coaster, we should take that time to do things for ourselves, self-care and rest.

It’s worth a try, anyway.

I feel like I will be able to report back shortly, as I burst into tears in the car while singing along to Carly Simon’s Anticipation – These are the good old days – and also when I saw a photo of my husband’s cousin’s brand new granddaughter being held by her two-year-old sister. May they grow up to be the best of friends I typed and then cried.

So it might indeed be time for me to practice self-care and rest, and also maybe sample some of the Limited Edition Dark Chocolate Strawberry Lindors that I picked up in anticipation of Galentine’s Day.

Outfit of the Week

It was just a matter of time! A massive cold front hit and, as I write this it is minus 28. That’s WITHOUT windchill! Brr. But before the cold front hit we had a beautiful, mild-for-us winter day, and I spent as much time as I could outside.

I know I’ve talked a lot about bum warmers, but damn, they work a charm. Plus, upcycled, buy local, etc. I’m wearing my OG set with mittens, plus long lulu savasana socks and sweater, yoga tights, a few layers underneath, cozy faux-fur boots and my long Eddie Bauer coat that feels new but I think I bought it at least six years ago. Funny how that happens.

Also, update from the quinzhee, pictured behind me! It will probably be there until next winter, who knows. We got some fresh snow, which gave it a nice new layer and also covered up the dog-mess and scattered spruce needles in our backyard.

Pandemic Reading

Suzanne (HI SUZANNE) recommended this book, and I’m glad she did because I likely would never have picked it up otherwise. I knew next to nothing about Jessica Simpson; I vaguely remembered that she was in that Dukes of Hazzard reboot, but that was pretty much it. Not only is she an accomplished musical artist, with several movies under her belt, she was on one of the first reality TV shows ever, and she has a billion-dollar clothing line, that is affordable and accessible for all women. She has a really great story, and reading this book made me like and admire her a lot, for overcoming many obstacles and being true to herself.

Stay warm, everyone! Have a great week – perhaps with some extra chocolates involved! xo

Friluftsliv Fashion; Forty-Six Weeks In

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Last Monday was Robbie Burns’ Day, and the entire day passed unnoticed by me. It wasn’t until Tuesday that I realized I had missed the day entirely; I usually take a few minutes to watch this video and listen to some Rod Stewart, but this year, alas. Nothing. What kind of partial Scotswoman am I? What’s next, am I going to stop saving tiny useless pieces of soap by attempting to mold them onto the larger bar of soap where they will fall off constantly until my husband, frustrated, throws them out, much to my consternation? Am I going to stop banging the shampoo bottle to get out that last ounce, probably wasting water in the process? Will I stop squeezing out every last millilitre of toothpaste and face primer? Am I going to stop cursing the designers of nail polish for their useless little brushes that preclude using the last quarter of a bottle?

Never.

Some of this could be pandemic-, “what day is it-” related, some could be exam break related, but I am putting some of the blame on my father – not for the nail polish, as far as I know he had nothing to do with that – but for my blowing past Robbie Burns Day. He usually sends me a text, sometimes even with a cryptic “some hae meat and cannae eat” line, but he did not this year. What the heck, Dad? In a pandemic I need all the reminders as to what day it is that I can get.

Saving tiny pieces of soap and other fairly useless frugalities aside, I have been focusing lately not so much on my Scottish heritage, but on the Norwegian part. Specifically, as I have mentioned before, Friluftsliv. As of today I’m on a 302-day movement streak, and I am spending, on average, 90 minutes a day outside. It has not been hard, really, because this January has been, by Calgary standards, mild. We usually have at least a few days, if not weeks, of temperatures in the minus 20s and below, and here we are in FEBRUARY ALREADY and that has not happened. Most days have been around the freezing mark, plus or minus five degrees, but the last week has seen a small blast of winter, and by “small,” I mean in the minus teens. Minus 16 isn’t “my face has actually frozen with exposure to the air” temperatures, but it’s pretty cold nonetheless.

I channeled my Norwegian side, not with a sudden craving for lefse or lutefisck, god, no, never, but with Friluftsliv.

Yes, those are snow pants. Yes, my coat requires its own postal code. Yes, I have a toque underneath my hood, and this entire outfit is meant to obliviate any idea of outdoor fashion. Dress for the weather you have, not the weather you want, people. I am happy to tell you that ninety minutes in this very saucy outfit, and I was as snug and as warm as can be. It made me think of all those hours I spent freezing at the playground, when I could have been wearing snow pants. No wonder kids can spend hours outside in the cold while adults freeze, it is because they are dressed for the weather. Why did I dress my children so well and me…not? Well, no time to spend on regrets, let’s look forward, not back, and meanwhile I will be wearing my snow pants until this cold front has passed.

Hilariously, I’ve been following some new blogs by women who are in their fifties, and they write about fashion and beauty for women of a certain age. For a while I found it aspirational. Now, though, I think I’ve passed right out of “aspirational” and into “we are on different planets.” As I was donning my giant outfit, I thought of their latest “California girl” post wherein they were dressed for the weather in a long sweater, scarf, and cropped pants. What must that be like. At the moment I can’t remember what grass looks like.

Outfit of the Week

Ooh, I love this week’s outfit! It’s a teaching outfit with added layers for the hours I’m NOT teaching. It’s a Monday outfit; Mondays I teach zoom yoga at the community centre – by myself – and that community centre is COLD.

Black tank with grey polka dots, grey long sleeved tee, and, best of all, LEGWARMERS. The legwarmers are essential for that freezing cold space.

Cute, soft black sweater for warmth when not teaching.

Pandemic Reading

The title is a bit misleading but this is a very interesting read on how our society vilifies certain foods and how “professionals” make tons of money on “studies” about our diet. The key takeaway is “There’s a colossal problem with focusing on one macronutrient, and with ‘everything you’ve heard up to now is wrong’ message.” Interesting if you’re into that sort of thing.

The author does talk about how celiac disease was first discovered, and the treatment for it was a diet of bananas and milk. Celiac children immediately thrived from this diet – because it obviously contains no gluten – which sparked a whole movement for bananas. The first of the “superfoods” I suppose. The author believes that people who cut out gluten, without having a medical diagnosis to do so, delegitimize the enormous health issue for people who are actually celiac. I don’t know what I think about that. It’s a very valid point but I think there is also a benefit to more widespread information. I remember when a friend’s mom was diagnosed – she’d suffered her whole life – back in the nineties, when essentially no one had ever really heard of celiac disease. For her, eating out was extremely difficult at that time because no one understood the severity of celiac or how to manage it. Now, we are so much more aware and there are so many different products, so I’m not sure if the gluten-free craze was all bad, as it would ultimately give celiac people options. When I first went plant-based, many years ago, eating out wasn’t always easy. I’ll have a club sandwich but without the cheese and meat, hold the mayo. I’ll have the chicken pasta without the chicken. But now there are vegetarian and vegan options everywhere, thanks to a brief period when such diets were in vogue. The takeaway from the book is to eat how you like, and not to buy into “studies” as the “studies” are not science.

In my lifetime I can remember the following: low-calorie, low-cholesterol, low-fat, high-protein, low-carb, no-carb, gluten-free, low-sugar, no-sugar, high fat. What’s next? I agree with the author, eat for joy and pleasure and personal health, whatever diet brings you those things.

This was the most creative and original book I’ve read! I loved it! If you had infinite chances to live your life, would you get it all perfect? How can decisions change your destiny? It’s like a choose your own adventure book on steroids. A must-read, especially if you have interest in World War Two.

This empowering and enlightening book resonated so strongly with me; at times I literally gasped and had to stare off into the distance for a while. I wish I’d read this when I was a younger woman. I think this is an important read, for all women but especially those of my generation who were brought up to have it all, but without thoughts to the cost.

Barkley and I wish you a wonderful first week of February, friends! xo

Goals and Gratitude; Forty-Two Weeks In

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Happy New Year! New Year’s is a funny thing; yes, we said goodbye to 2020, but the world did not change because the calendar did. I mean, we are still in a global pandemic and will be for a while yet. Nothing really changes on January 1, no matter how glad we are to kick the old year to the curb.

And yet. I love New Year’s; I love the feeling of everything fresh and new even if it isn’t actually fresh and new. January 1 I took down the tree and decorations, and I deep-cleaned the house, and I actually feel like my HOUSE is fresh and new. This happens every year; the house feels so much more spacious. It’s like I have a brand-new house, I think, every year at this time, and if history is any indication, this feeling will last until about the end of this week. Possibly less since Everyone Is Home All The Time.

I asked the family if they were setting any resolutions for New Year’s, and my younger son scoffed at me and said “I set my goals throughout the year, not just in JANUARY, MOM.” Well, I guess I do this too; if I want to make a change I implement it immediately, it is silly to wait until an arbitrary date. All the same, I do like to set intentions and goals for the year to come at this time of the year. I looked back on last year’s goals and I think I did a good job fulfilling them, with the notable exception of mindful shopping – hello panic buying, but I’m trying to do better – and buying a new bra. I need to make up my mind to the fact that my ill-fitting bra and I are going to be together for a while. I cannot imagine going to a lingerie store and trying on a whole bunch of bras, let alone have someone get up in my grill and measure me. Maybe in 2022.

2021 Goals

Mindfulness

This has been on my list for years and it’s something to keep working towards. It’s a journey, what can I say. Being present in the moment is not always easy, but I’m working on it: paying attention, being astonished, and telling everyone about it, as per Mary Oliver. I’m also STILL working on listening more, rather than Zoning Out, but honestly, that has been a bit tough in a year where, as I say, Everyone Is Home All The Time. Well, these goals are for looking forward, not back, Fresh Start, etc.

I’m trying to incorporate mindfulness into all aspects of my life, including – as I mentioned above – shopping, god help me I do not need to buy any more flour for a while. I am also – and this is a carryover from last year – reading more and scrolling less. I read 147 books last year; part of that was being locked down with the pandemic, but a bigger part of it was deleting certain apps from my phone and stopping myself from wasting time mindlessly scrolling.

On that note, the constant news cycle and the barrage of terrible things does not do me any favours; I’m finding that limiting myself to the bare minimum is much better for my mental and emotional state. Going forward, I’m going to continue to do that. If there is Really Important Information, I’m sure I will find out eventually; there is no need read everything about it and end up in a Doom Spiral.

Embracing Aging

This probably deserves a post on its own, but I’m not ready for that right now. Just to summarize, last August, I decided to stop weighing myself, and the impact that decision had on me and my mental state cannot be overstated.

Here I am, 45 years old, and my body is changing. My face is changing. I am not getting younger, people. If 2020 taught us anything it is that life is short and uncertain and unpredictable but I am, as one of my seniors puts it, on the right side of the grass. And as such I don’t want to waste time being dissatisfied with the way I look. I’ve wasted enough time. Going forward, I am not going to do that anymore.

As we go through life our looks change, that is a fact. Imagine how bizarre it would be to see a ninety-year-old woman with the face of a twenty-year-old. Just as we don’t go instantly to 90 from 20, so things change and evolve over the years.

In any case, I am embracing myself. I smile a lot and I wrinkle my forehead a lot and I raise my eyebrows a lot and you can tell by looking at my face. I am fit and strong, true, but my stomach is softening and my waistline is widening. My hairline is completely grey and my neck is deserving of a Nora Ephron essay. All of this is part of Life’s Journey. I refuse to waste time mired in unhappiness because of some arbitrary idea of conventional beauty and because we live in a culture where youth is held up as the gold standard.

We are all beautiful just as we are. Every one of us is a goddess, and I will not hear anything otherwise.

Practicing Gratitude

I have so much to be grateful for, particularly my health and that of my family. I am grateful for that every day, and every day I will reflect on and practice gratitude.

There is much I am grateful for, that came out of 2020. My husband is still gainfully employed and able to financially support our family, I am still working as a yoga teacher, albeit mostly remotely, my kids have adapted to this new, pandemic way of life with grace and acceptance.

Other things I am grateful for:

The little space between the table and the kitchen wall that serves as my home practice studio in the early hours. I never thought I would have a home yoga practice, but it has been surprisingly wonderful.

My home gym, especially the Peloton. I am so thankful that I have had the ability to exercise throughout this past year. I never thought I would be a person riding away in a spin class by myself, but then again, I never thought I would be in a global pandemic that shut down all spin classes and yoga studios and that devastated whole industries, including travel and airline. Never say never, is something I’ve learned, and also never say things like we’ve hit rock bottom or it can’t possibly get worse.

The availability of, and my ability to purchase and prepare healthy, nourishing, delicious food. I am so grateful produce is still available to me, along with all my other favourite foods.

Warm clothes and the concept of Friluftsliv! I have gone on a long walk every single day of this pandemic; January is typically our coldest month, although it’s starting off pretty mild, and so I am gathering my warmest layers.

Wine! I’m really glad there wasn’t a wine shortage. God bless all you Dry January people, but I do love my weekend tipples.

Pandemic Reading

Another thing I am grateful for is the library. Of the 147 books I read last year, the majority were from the library; if I tried to buy all of them I would be broke or, at the least, swimming in books. On that note:

This wasn’t mind-blowing, but it was an enjoyable book about a marriage in trouble, friendships, and the dangers of assuming that someone else is living a perfect life. It’s interesting, in our Instagram-Facebook-highlight-reel world, that we often assume that Everything Is Perfect for someone else, but lo, that is a dangerous assumption.

I LOVED THIS SO MUCH. This was an absolutely perfect holiday read, all about an Old Hollywood actress. I have loved everything that I’ve read by Emma Straub so far, but this is my favourite.

This was the last book I read in 2020 – I finished it New Year’s Eve – and it was very strange and unsettling, apt for a strange and unsettling year. The dialogue was witty. The premise was upsetting. I didn’t love it. I didn’t hate it.

Now THIS. This I loved. This book was incredible. Absolutely incredible. On the surface it’s about a woman and her part-time nanny, but really it’s so much more: class structure and wealth, secrets, lies, friendship, marriage, bad choices, power, and the proliferation of chain and online shopping at the expense of the little guy. After I finished I put every one of her books on my to-read list. So well done, excellent story and characters. Not sure, though, why on the front cover it is touted as “laugh out loud funny” – maybe they were talking about a different book? It is, indeed, wise and captivating but I don’t think I laughed at all, let alone out loud. Oh, but it is so good – I highly recommend it.

Now I’m off to start the week – the boys are back to online school this week and my husband is back to work, I have a couple of classes to teach and the goal to clean the oven. We shall see if this goal is achieved. Have a great week, friends, may unicorn sightings be in your future.