Category Archives: Weather or not

Marital Mismatches and Superpowers; One Hundred and Two Weeks In

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It feels like I was JUST saying that February is tomorrow, and here we are, MARCH is tomorrow! February flew by; part of it was that it felt like Life Was Hectic, with wrestling tournaments and a new school semester and a five-day weekend thrown in for good measure, but part of it was that we have had absolutely gorgeous, mild weather in a I Can’t Believe It’s February kind of way. This, however, came to an abrupt end this past week; I had to put on my snowpants, again, to go for a walk.

It’s weather like this that makes automatic car starters so popular around here, for people who don’t have garages. I mean, obviously. I am no expert on this subject, but I can only assume that if a person were to use an automatic car starter while their car was in a garage, they might drop dead of carbon monoxide poisoning on entering the garage, unless the garage door was open, but if it was, why would you need the automatic car starter? Why would you go into the garage, open the door, and then use an automatic car starter? Why wouldn’t you just start your car?

Anyway, automatic car starters. I don’t have one – I have a garage, and I use it – but I’m sure they are great for weather like we had this past week. As I was walking the other day, attired as above, I started to pass a truck parked on the street, and then that truck started lightly honking its horn. I thought maybe it was a neighbour, trying to get my attention, but then I wasn’t sure how anyone would know I was me, dressed as I was, with sunglasses to boot. Startled, I looked up, but no one was in the truck. Then the truck started, and I thought, oh, automatic car starter and kept on my way. Shortly after that, the same thing happened with ANOTHER vehicle. And then another one! Three times this happened to me in a sixty minute walk, a light honk and then the car starting just as I was passing it, with no one in the vehicle.

I actually started to wonder if I had suddenly developed the world’s weirdest and most useless superpower, the ability to start cars merely by passing them on the street. Imagine! It would have been nicer to suddenly develop the ability to fly, or control the weather, or even swing from buildings using webs shooting out of my own wrists, but I will admit I will take anything I can get in the superpower front.

As I was walking, I was listening to a podcast that was recorded in the summer, in Los Angeles, and one of the hosts mentioned that she hates showering, and showers only when she has to, which turns out to be every three to four days. Now, before I get further, I am going to say that if you are a person who is of similar mindset, I am not judging you: I assume we all know our own bodies and needs best, and this is a safe space, we are in the Trust Tree here. You do you.

Personally, I am a Daily Shower person, and I realize this is a great privilege of the Modern Age, but my Daily Shower is an Anchor in my day, and without it I feel like I would drift off into the Sea of Life. Even though I do not wash my hair every time I shower – that I do only about every 2-3 days – I feel refreshed and happy and like I hit the Reset Button Of Life every time I step out of the shower. It’s an important ritual in my day, and also, if you’ve ever seen me post-daily-workout, you would probably think a daily shower should not only be encouraged, but vital.

I get sweaty, is what I’m saying. I haven’t weighed myself since August 2020, and I don’t plan on weighing myself ever again, but sometimes I wonder how much water weight I lose in a workout. I’m a person who sweats a lot and I shall not sweat-shame myself, but honestly. I could wring out a tank top post-workout.

Back to the podcast. After the host mentioned her distaste for showers, the other host asked if her husband was still showering twice a day and that brings me to my whole point. Twice a day showers feels like a lot, but I have definitely done that in the summer, after a day spent outside gardening or hiking, covered in sunscreen and bug spray. But what I have a hard time reconciling in my head is what is their marriage like? You never know, of course, what goes on in someone’s marriage, but if my husband – who also showers daily – started showering every 3-4 days, I think it would end in divorce. I just couldn’t handle it. I recognize, again, privilege and that our bodies adjust to what we do to them, but still.

It’s the mismatch that gets me. It’s not like I think my husband and I should be clones of each other, because that would be weird and disturbing, and also I would not want to be married to my own clone, god, there can’t be TWO of us. But I also don’t think that Opposites Attract, or if they do Attract, they don’t Stay Attracted, if you know what I mean.

I have been thinking about this because we are coming up to our twentieth anniversary – twenty years! – in a few weeks. I find it interesting, there are so many behaviours that would never bother me if anyone else in the world did them, but if it was my husband, NO. NO SIR. The following would put an actual strain on my marriage, an I don’t think this is WORKING kind of strain: smoking, leaving dirty clothes on the floor instead of in the hamper, drug use, neglecting his health, and, importantly, less frequent showering than me. Fortunately, none of those things have come to pass, so we shall happily celebrate our China Anniversary later this month, minus the china.

Look at that sweet young thing! She had no idea that in twenty years, she’d be writing about marital shower habits.

Pandemic Reading

Notes From A Small Island. When I posted this on Instagram, a friend introduced me to the Bill Bryson Theory: the first one you read is hilarious, and then each subsequent title is progressively less funny. YES. I have enjoyed Bryson so much in previous books but this, meh. It follows him on a seven-week tour of Britain, his adopted country, and yes, this was published in 1995 so it is obviously dated and yes, Britain in the 80s and 90s was a grim and depressing place to be, but ugh. This book was so dull and disappointing. There were a couple of amusing anecdotes and some interesting facts, but whoever reviewed this at The Globe and Mail – “Doubled over belly shakes and seltzer through the nose funny” – was maybe drunk.

Black Is The Body. This was excellent! I love a good essay collection and this one was insightful and thoughtful. The first essay, about the author being randomly stabbed at a coffee shop, was startling; the rest of the book deals with race, home, marriage, and motherhood, all tying back to her body and what it means to be black in America. 

The Echo Chamber. This is a very clever satire and commentary about appearances, social media, and cancel culture. The Cleverley family is an absolutely ridiculous group of caricatures, but there’s a thoughtful and interesting pre-SM backstory. Also interesting to me is that it was published in 2021 and there are quite a few references to past mask-wearing, vaccinations, and how fun it is to go shopping again, now that the pandemic is over. Oh, sweetie. The epilogue I could have done without, but in general it was smart and amusing. As I say, it’s satire, so definitely not for everyone, as there are a few storylines that feel distasteful.

My Boyfriend Wrote A Book About Me. I am NOT the correct demographic for this book, that much is obvious. It is supposed to be a humorous book of essays about bad dates, relationships, and one-night stands, but I found it so terribly sad. The whole time, I kept thinking Oh, sweetie, no. No, don’t sleep with that guy. No. That’s not going to help your self-esteem. It’s been a long time since I was on the dating scene but hoo boy, this woman had literally the worst luck with men. As a preview, her ex wrote a book about her, referring to her as his “fat-assed girlfriend,” which should give you an idea about the general temperature of the book.

There has been a lot of terrible news this week, as we are all aware. I haven’t mentioned the incredible sadness and fear for the people living in Ukraine, for all my Ukrainian friends, but of course that has been on my mind this week. Lots of love to all of you, from my little corner of the world. xo

Fun In Your Forties; Ninety-Nine Weeks In

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Ninety-nine! I’ve got ninety-nine problems, but Covid isn’t one, yet. Doesn’t it feel like a ticking time bomb, though? In the first four waves, I knew only a handful of people who had gotten sick; now it feels like I know only a handful of people who haven’t gotten sick, all of whom, needless to say as they are my friends, have been careful and cautious and following all the protocols. Fortunately, all of those that have been infected in this wave have recovered quickly and with no ill effects, unlike the people I knew in previous waves, who suffered immensely. On that note, I am scheduled to get my booster this week!

I was preparing for my walk the other day and thought I would check the temperature to see if it was a Legwarmer Day or a Snow Pants Day.

Frigid! You know, maybe the weather is just not that into you, or maybe the weather just wants to take things slow. There’s no reason for…what’s the opposite of slut-shaming?

For what it’s worth, I don’t even think minus 19 is worthy of a “frigid.” It’s Cold, to be sure, but it’s not Extremely Cold, particularly in February.

I was pleasantly surprised to find a hand-delivered card in my mailbox, from my former neighbours, with a note saying that they enjoyed having such congenial neighbours for so many years and that they were sorry they missed us before they left. Okeley-dokely! It still doesn’t explain WHEN they left and how I didn’t notice, but it was nice.

Am I a super-nosy neighbour? Probably. But how does someone move furniture without the neighbours knowing?

Our new neighbour told me that he is a Car Guy, and is building a whole new garage, with a lift and everything. I can’t help but think that this would have been incredible had it happened fifteen years or so ago, when the boys were little. They would have been glued to the fence, watching the construction and cars. You can’t buy that kind of entertainment. Well, I guess I’ll have to enjoy it on my own.

On a completely different note: it is a source of small annoyance to me that every hair on my body – including long white hairs in my eyebrows, which cannot be plucked without resulting in bald spots in said eyebrows – has gone or is going grey, with the exception of my upper lip. The latter seems to be having some kind of youthful resurgence; perhaps I’m unknowingly embracing my inner Magnum PI? In any case, I spend time each morning with tweezers and my Daylight Magnifying Mirror, which is something I do not recommend for the faint of heart.

It recalls to my mind the paragraph in Bridget Jones’ Diary, where she compares her grooming process to farming – “so much harvesting and crop-spraying…The whole performance is so highly tuned you only need to neglect it for a few days for the whole thing to go to seed.” Word, Bridget.

I was complaining about this to my friend Hannah not long ago (HI HANNAH), as even my magical chin hair has gone perfectly white. Immediately after complaining that only my upper lip is sprouting dark hair, the rest of me is grey, I noticed several very dark CHIN HAIRS sprouting from my face. NEVER COMPLAIN. The universe is listening.

You’re not happy being Magnum PI? How about becoming a Bearded Hipster, how do you like me now.

If ever I am in a coma or am otherwise unable to access my tweezers and magnifying mirror, I will end up like one of the members from ZZ Top or, possibly, Santa. Santa with a dark moustache.

Perimenopause! It’s an interesting time, to be sure. Years ago – literally, years – I bought a box of tampons at Costco, and I JUST finished them in December. I was a little unsure as to what to do, going forward.

Here’s the thing: I am very fortunate in that my periods, such as they are, while irregular, are very light. I know so many women who suffer from heavy periods with lots of pain, but so far – and this can change, I’m sure, Hi to My Hormones – that’s not me. Other than my breasts suddenly spilling out of my bra or tank top like a 1980s swimsuit model, and the Feeling of Extreme Resentment and/ or Sadness that pervades the day or two before the start of Ladies’ Holidays, I don’t have much trouble with my periods.

Note: I related this to my sister-in-law over wine last summer, and she looked at me and said “I hate you right now.” I’m sorry! (HI JO).

Anyway, my periods are so light that my tampon usage is maybe 2-4 tampons per period, thus making a Costco box last for years. I have no idea how many years I have left of tampon usage at all, so I bought a regular sized box from Superstore, and it was fifty cents less than the giant Costco box. I mean. The Scottish side of me immediately regretted the smaller box – economies of scale! – and yet, will I use up the Costco box? No one can say. All I’m going to say is that I will be annoyed with myself if I do have to purchase another box. I could have been a contender.

I can sometimes feel maudlin when I realize that I have done something, mothering-wise, for the last time. The boys wake up with their own alarms, meaning I don’t waltz into their rooms singing Good morning, good MORNING, it’s time to start your day, good morning, I LOOVVVVEEEE you, time to start your day anymore. I don’t – obviously, the oldest is almost a legal adult – read them stories or sing them songs or walk them places unless we happen to be going in the same direction. I don’t remember the last time I did any of those things, but as god is my witness, I am going to remember the last box of tampons I buy.

The landslide’ll bring you…down.

It’s been a busy week for Barkley; he had a vet appointment and a grooming appointment, on back-to-back days. The woman who grooms him, who is someone that I would describe as perfect for working with animals, with everything that entails, told me he seemed really tired, and that he just wanted to lie down while groomed. I mean, can you blame him. We humans get to be at least seated for grooming procedures, and in some cases – body sugaring! – supine. I have had three (THREE!) beauty appointments in the past month: haircut, pedicure, and body sugaring, and I can’t imagine having to stand up, on a table no less, to get said treatments.

Slight digression: before body sugaring, these items are set out for preparation of the honey pot, and it never fails to make me smile.

Self-love! It’s wonderful.

Anyway, the vet was perhaps a bit surprised to still see Barkley thriving, his cancers haven’t grown significantly in the past year, although he’s pretty deaf and quite blind and is arthritic, he’s still happy. When a dog gets to this age, every week we have with him is a gift to treasure, even while mopping up paw prints and picking up massive amounts of poop. Keep on keeping on, Barks!

I was walking him and an elderly lady crossed the street specifically to pet him, and somehow the conversation turned from how much we love dogs to the lady’s tale of getting Covid in early 2020. “I cured myself with the power of prayer and oil of oregano,” she said to me, followed by “I’ll keep your dog in my prayers.” Very sweet sentiments, although I couldn’t help but think that “curing yourself” could also be considered “recovering,” but I am not one to criticize methods of comfort for other people. Plus, I’ll take any and all extra prayers and positive thoughts for my old puppers.

Pandemic Reading

The Man Who Saw Everything. I have been reading and enjoying Deborah Levy’s memoirs, so when I saw this at the library I impulsively picked it up. Levy is a very talented and creative writer, and this book will really keep you on your toes. The narrator is the ultimate in Unreliable Narrator, to the point where I had to stop reading and go back, thinking wait, what, just a second here. This is the book equivalent of a fever dream and I honestly didn’t 100% know what was happening until the very last page.

Diary of a Provincial Lady. This is one of my all-time favourite books. I desperately needed a comfort read this week, so I picked this up. I have read it so many times, it is falling apart, and I never ever get tired of it. It is just so delightful on every level. Even though E.M. Delafield and I are living almost a century apart, I feel like she’s my soul sister. I FEEL this book so much. It’s so wonderful and witty and warm, and never fails to make me happy.

Calypso. Another day, another comfort read. This is my favourite of Sedaris’ collection; it is funny, but it is also quite introspective. It contains Stepping Out, which is my favourite of his essays, and which really resonates with me, what with my being under control of my smart watch.

Next week is going to be ONE HUNDRED weeks of pandemic life, I can hardly believe it. I mean, unless the pandemic suddenly ends, but that feels pretty unlikely. Take care and stay safe! xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Hygge-Chaka, Hygge-Hygge-Hygge-Chaka Edition

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I can’t stop this feeling, deep inside of me, January you just don’t realize what you do to me…when you are cold but it’s getting more light you let me know everything’s all right…

Ever since I read The Little Book of Hygge, I’ve been a bit obsessed with the concept: winter in Calgary is long, and being intentional about being cozy fits the bill. This January has been all over the map, weather-wise, from extreme cold to pretty mild, but windy days.

Some of the things featured in this month’s Favourite Things have been featured in previous Favourite Things; because of that, I had some doubts. Should I continue with Favourite Things if I’m repeating them? Should I press myself to continue with this monthly feature if I’m just going to write about the same things over and over? Do I have no new ideas for anything and is it all for nothing? Nothing, I say???

What can I say, we are in a global pandemic. Dark moments, even about silly blog features, happen. Originally I started Favourite Things with items that I had recently purchased, and now I just like to celebrate the things I like. Apparently, some of these things deserve celebration OVER AND OVER AGAIN. Celebrate the good things! Right? There are no RULES to Favourite Things other than being things that I love that month. There’s no LAW I can’t write about bum warmers over and over. THERE IS NO LAW.

Anyway. This month it is all the things that make me feel hygge. If you can’t feel hygge in January, when can you? Well, if you live in Calgary, there are plenty of opportunities, but I digress.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Hygge-Chaka Hygge-Hygge-Chaka Edition

All The Sweaters, All The Time

I follow a number of fashion blogs, several of which are in California, one in Texas, and one in Florida. The latter blogger once mentioned that she had two sweaters for cooler temperatures, and when I read that, I stared into the distance for a while. Two! I can’t even imagine a world in which I didn’t have a sweater on for nine months of the year. Nine months AT MINIMUM. I have an enormous collection of sweaters: some are light, for mildly cold days, and some could be considered a cold-weather jacket for warmer climates.

Bonus: fuzzy slippers and fuzzy dog, both hygge.

I wear a lot of long cardigans, especially on teaching days when I need to strip down to only two layers (yoga tank and long sleeve tee) for class, without ruining my hair. If I’m not teaching, I wear pullover sweaters with layers underneath. Always, always layers. I can’t think of a single instance wherein I would have a sweater on without at least a tee or tank underneath.

Warm Up That Booty

I have mentioned bum warmers so many times, but they deserve a mention for their place in the hygge lifestyle. A local woman makes these out of thrifted sweaters, and they are just so cute and snuggly.

I have three that I alternate between, but this one is my current favourite as it’s a little bit longer. The other two have matching mittens, but this one goes nicely with my battery-powered heated mittens.

She’s Got Legs, She Knows How To Warm Them

Bums aren’t the only thing that need warming! I wear legging-style yoga pants most days, and those thin pants are just not enough for warmth. On teaching days I wear fitted, stirrup-style legwarmers to keep me warm in that cold, cold community centre; the floor is linoleum over concrete, and it is VERY cold, even in the spring and fall.

Years ago my mother-in-law knitted me several pairs of legwarmers, and they are incredibly thick and cozy. I wear them for walks on days that are cold, but not cold enough for snow pants.

They are too heavy to wear indoors or while teaching but perfect for walking. Options! It’s good to have them.

Sock It To Me

On non-teaching-but-still-wearing-yoga-pants days, I like to wear super-long socks as an extra layer. I have a number of pairs, mostly in black or charcoal.

It takes me a significant amount of time to get dressed in the morning.

It’s Tea Time, Bitches.

One of the interesting things, reading about hygge culture, is that Denmark is a huge consumer of coffee. Me too, Denmark, me too.

The very first thing I do every morning, before I drink two glasses of water, before I wash my face and brush my teeth, before ANYTHING at all, is start the coffee pot. I drink essentially a pot of black coffee every morning and I am not ashamed to admit it. The coffee is not strong, I just like a lot of it. Don’t worry: I drink a ton of water every day too, about 4 litres a day, so I am pretty hydrated and also, yes, I do have to use the bathroom a lot. Sometimes I’ll meet someone who doesn’t drink coffee and never has, and I will be in awe, wondering what that’s like.

Anyway, I have developed a Tea Ritual in the afternoon. When you drink an entire pot of coffee before 8:30 in the morning, you probably don’t need more caffeine in your life. I mean, you do you, but I don’t need more caffeine in my life. However, I like a nice warm drink in the afternoon as sort of a break in my (not-so-busy) schedule. It’s a little treat to look forward to, choosing an herbal tea from my massive stockpile and sipping.

Remember this mug? Leanne sent it to me (HI LEANNE) in the Secret Santa Mug Swap, and it is absolutely perfect for an afternoon cuppa. It’s the perfect size and shape, and it makes me feel cozy and hygge just looking at it, let alone drinking from it.

Girl Put Your Apron On, Tell Me Your Favourite Song

You know what is super hygge? Baking delicious things!

I kind of combined two recipes, and made some changes to end up with this pumpkin swirl loaf, which turned out to be super delicious. The boys asked me if I EVER follow a recipe exactly and I had to really think about it. Pie crust! I never deviate from a pie crust recipe because, let’s face it, pie crust is a bitch to make.

Here’s a Happy Homemaker Hint for you: when rolling out pie crust, roll it between two pieces of wax paper. Take off the top one, and just flip it over onto the pie pan, and peel off the bottom layer. It’s so much easier, although it can still stick and make you swear.

Anyone who knows me knows I despise pie, particularly apple – it’s a grievous waste of good apples! – but I lovingly make them for my family. Well, lovingly and swearingly; as you can see, I had to do some crust patching. Ah well, the whole thing lasted less than 24 hours, so I guess no one cares about esthetics.

Those are my favourite things for this chilly month of January; things that make me feel all the hygge. What are your favourite things? xo

No News Is Good News; Ninety-Five Weeks In

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It occurred to me this week that a lot of parallels can be drawn between pandemic mitigation strategies and sex ed. Just as the only Absolutely Certain 100% way to avoid pregnancy and STI is Complete Abstinence, so the only Absolutely Certain 100% way to avoid Covid infection is to remain Completely Isolated. However, here we are, ninety-five weeks in, and I think we can all agree that, being social creatures Complete Isolation is not ideal, just like Complete Abstinence is not something that is a practical or viable option for our young people. Or ourselves, really, but being nearly 47 and in a monogamous relationship for twenty-four years is a whole different kettle of fish, from an STI and pregnancy standpoint.

So, just like condoms and the pill prevent pregnancy and STI, not all the time but most, we look to masks and vaccines, which, together, work not all the time but most. I am not going to even get into the men who go condom-less or the people who have completely unprotected sex with several people in the course of a weekend, and I’m certainly not going to get into the people who are anti-mask-and-vaccine and who want life to be the way it was in 2019, crowds and all. The analogy starts to fall apart here, because ideally we choose our sexual partners, and we cannot always choose the people who surround us in every day life.

As an example to what things are like here, I was grocery shopping and a woman was there, in the frozen food aisle, with no mask on, not even on her chin, not below her nose, just no mask at all. We have had, for many months, an indoor mask mandate which is followed by basically everyone, and so it was Very Notable and Kind of Shocking. I had to remind myself not to judge, maybe there was some mitigating circumstance, literally the only thing I knew about this woman is that she did not have a mask on, but it was so very strange and unusual. Everyone in the frozen food aisle was giving this woman large berth, swooping their giant carts around her and, if they were like me, holding their breath. I am, therefore, grateful that such a thing is strange enough to be remarkable, and also, I am sure I will look back at these days when we think Everyone Is A Potential Disease Vector with sadness.

Also remarkable and momentous: today the kids are going back to school in person. I cannot even begin to describe the deep sense of relief I felt when I got the notification from the school board informing me of this. The schools have had a mask mandate since fall of 2020, but now every student will be given an eight-week supply of medical grade masks. Each student will be given rapid test kits as well, and will be expected to use them regularly until this wave has subsided. This is great news because rapid test kits are currently completely unavailable, and all testing centres are so overwhelmed that no one can get a PCR test unless they are involved in a current recorded outbreak or are in a high-risk category or line of work.

There is still risk to having in-person school – there are no ideal options here, people – but I feel the risk mitigation strategies are sufficient and the risks are outweighed massively by the benefits to having kids being around their peers. Online school was difficult in so many different ways and while I am grateful the kids had SOMETHING during that time, I think the vast amounts of screen time and isolation from other kids was detrimental to their mental and physical health.

A friend of mine said that I sounded fatalist the other day, because I said that I wasn’t going to spend my time and energy worrying about whether or not we contract Covid; we are doing as much as we can – vaccines, masks, distancing, limiting contact with people – and that will have to be good enough. I know so many people right now who have contracted Covid, even with Doing All The Right Things, and if I also Do All The Right Things and one still slips past the goalie, well. I have reached the point where I cannot spend any more time being anxious about it. We have to live our lives, not in a crazy reckless way but with caution, with mitigation strategies, and with hope, I guess. I am doing my best, my family is doing their best, and I cannot control what anyone else is doing. My best has to be good enough.

All of which brings me to one of my Quantifiable Goals; I mentioned last week that I do not exactly have New Year’s Goals or Resolutions, instead I add goals or concepts to my life as I go throughout the year. One of those goals – which I count as quantifiable – is Don’t Read The News. Do I need to be constantly updated with Pandemic News? No, I do not. Does constantly scrolling through the news ramp up my anxiety and feelings of hopelessness? Yes, it does. It’s an easy fix. The news will happen with or without me; I don’t need to read it. I get email updates from the CBE and the government concerning changes in policies that affect me and that affect the schools, and honestly, that’s enough. I don’t need a constant barrage of information. If something really important happens, someone will tell me, I’m sure. Following the daily case counts and death counts and positivity rates and R-values does nothing for me; it’s not going to change my low-risk behaviour, it is only going to make me despair.

My daily gratitude meditation is, of course, that the kids are back at school, as safely as possible. I am so grateful. I know many of you are living in jurisdictions in which the prevailing attitude is that either the pandemic doesn’t exist or that individual rights to not wear masks or distance or vaccinate far outweigh public health and the well-being of the community at large. For those of you living with that reality and experience, I am so sorry. I wish I could bring you here and keep you safe and healthy.

Although, if I did bring you here, you might need to pack some layers. Last week the daily high temperatures were in the minus twenties, with the windchill factors in the high minus thirties. Today, the extreme cold snap is supposed to break and that, along with the kids going back to school, makes me feel hopeful.

Pandemic Reading

Humankind. This was a very interesting and hopeful read! Covering the London Blitz and other war strategies, as well as psychological experiments from the Stanford Prison Experiment to the one with people electrically shocking other people, to the real-life Lord of the Flies and the Christmas truce of 1914, this book is full of information and compassion. I like the message that we are what we feed ourselves, in terms of information. The experiments that supposedly show the dark side of humankind are exposed in a different way, which did make me feel hopeful. It should be noted that this book was published in 2019, so pre-pandemic but mid-Trump-regime.

Things I Don’t Want To Know: On Writing. I really liked this quick little memoir of Deborah Levy’s South African childhood and her writing life. This is the first of three memoirs, and I will definitely read the next two.

This Will Only Hurt A Little. Have you ever read a celebrity memoir without having any idea who the celebrity is? I picked this up on my friend Terry’s (HI TERRY) recommendation, not knowing who Busy Phillips is (she’s in TV shows I’ve never watched and movies I’ve never heard of, plus she’s an Instagram star!). It’s very brave of her to write so candidly. Her life is kind of a hot mess, honestly, but this was worth the read/ enraging due to the stories about men in Hollywood and their entitlement and bad behaviour. Also, when she was pregnant she was constantly asked if she was having twins which, me too, Busy. Me too.

Want. This is a short and exquisitely written book that perfectly describes so many experiences: wealth, bankruptcy, consumption, motherhood, friendship, health insurance, and, most of all, all-encompassing privilege. It’s really well done BUT I found it depressing and frustrating to read. It’s dark, and enraging. I wanted to shake the main character so much and tell her to make better choices.

I am starting this week feeling hopeful; what is the situation like where you are? xo

Hippy-Dippy Goals; Ninety-Four Weeks In

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Happy New Year!

As I mentioned in my 2021 roundup, the year ended – and the New Year started – on kind of a low point. The boys were supposed to be going back to school tomorrow, but on December 30 it was announced that winter break would be extended to the 10th, and January diploma exams, of which my older son was due to write three, would be cancelled.

For the past several months, I have been saying to myself that as long as the kids are in school, I can take anything. I could go back to patchy grocery store shelves, I could line up at Costco, my husband could continue to work out of our basement, I could wear a mask anywhere and everywhere and see friends outdoors, I could forgo parties and travel and everything else, just let the kids be in school. They have been so happy in these past four months, and, well. Here we are.

The announcement made me feel like folding in on myself like an accordion, and to just go to bed. I did, however, get up on New Year’s Eve, rolled out my yoga mat, and picked up my poetry books. I read the final Rumi poem of the year, I did it, you guys, and then, because it was completely uninspiring to me, I opened up Mary Oliver’s Devotions and came across this:

This whole pandemic, all ninety-four weeks of it, I have been thinking to myself Just Keep Swimming. But it occurred to me, after reading this, that the past ninety-four weeks have had a lot of long lonely falls and frenzied risings. Perhaps all these swings will mean that our children will be the most resilient generation, learning to pivot and adapt and thrive in any circumstances.

My younger son scoffs at the idea of New Year’s resolutions or goal setting; he sets goals throughout the year, not just in January. I am the same way; throughout the year I add goals or concepts or mantras that I want to live by, and then I start right away. However, it’s nice to lay them out in January, feeling like it’s a fresh start; at the least, January is a good time to reflect on past goals and future ones. There’s nothing quite like a brand-new calendar to make you feel fresh and rejuvenated.

OKAY, CALENDAR, I’LL TRY.

It must be said that the majority of my goals are completely unquantifiable. Not all of them – I’ve had “buy a new bra” on my annual list for YEARS and finally, last year, I bought not only one, but THREE, STRIKE IT FROM THE TO-DO LIST – but most. How do you measure “mindfulness,” for example? I like having unquantifiable goals, though, because they are things that you can always keep in mind and work on throughout the year, and easily add to. Over the next couple of weeks, I am going to lay out some actually quantifiable goals that I work on daily. I mean, what else is there to write about in January? The never-ending feelings of despair that come from nearly two years of pandemic life? The fact that my teenagers will never experience normal high school life? The worry that my sons’ activities that they love will be cancelled? The concern about their education and preparation for adult life? NO. I’ve written enough about that. I’ve thought enough about that. We have all had enough.

Anyway, for today, I want to talk about the concepts and mantras that I use for everyday living.

Embrace The Season

Back in *checks blog* June 2021, I was inspired to Embrace the Season, by an incredible woman who has since passed. Rest in peace, Melanie. I think that Embracing the Season that you are in is probably the best way to go through life; you are here, this is now.

There are wonderful, joyful, inspiring things happening in every season of our lives, yes, even this one, yes, even though it’s actually minus 28 right now. It’s Winter, both literally and figuratively, let’s treat ourselves like favoured children, like our most loved ones. Right? Right.

Bloom Where You Are Planted

This goes with Embracing the Season. I’m planted here, in this city, and this is where I’ll bloom. I can make things better one tiny step at a time; I can do this with my yoga classes and my interactions with people, friends and strangers alike, I can make my yard and home into something beautiful, I can write things that will hopefully reach people in the way that I intend. I’m going to bloom, damn it.

Does anyone remember the old poem called You Learn? It was sort of about breakups and relationships, and I read it as a teenager. Back then, it was deeply meaningful to me; I’m pretty sure I read it after a breakup. Oh, the fires of youth. Anyway, there is a line in there that I have remembered lo these many years, and it was Plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. Let’s plant our own gardens, and we can bloom in them.

Friluftsliv

It feels very appropriate to talk about Friluftsliv when it’s MINUS 28. I first discovered this concept in the fall of 2020, and I have adopted it in my life. It’s a Norwegian word that means, roughly, outdoor living, and goes with the idea that there is no bad weather, just bad clothes. I like to tie Friluftsliv in with Embracing the Season and Blooming Where You Are Planted because this is where I live, and where I live is more often cold and unpleasant than not. I go for a walk every day, no matter the weather, and I can tell you that dressing appropriately is the key. With proper clothing, even minus 30 is doable, with the bonus that I feel like a hardy Norwegian superstar afterwards. This segues nicely into…

Hygge

I absolutely love the concept of hygge – am I spiritually Danish? Maybe. – because what could be better than coziness and warmth in the winter? I see lots of books and warm drinks and baking in my future; not that this is a change for me, but still. Hygge.

Gratitude and Awe

Sometimes it’s easy to have feelings of gratitude and awe; maybe the sky is brilliantly blue and the trees are covered with snow, and it’s a perfect scene. Maybe my family picks up some of the household chores without being asked, gratitude, gratitude. Maybe we will get an email from the school that says the kids are going back – too much to ask? Maybe.

Several months ago I was listening to an interview with Giselle Bunchen, of all people, and she said that she practices gratitude daily; when she has a plate of fruit she thinks of the farmers, of the sun and the rain that helped the fruit to grow, the people who pick the fruit, the person who drove the truck to the supermarket, and the people who work at the supermarket. When you think about it that way, an apple can seem like a miracle. Then I was reading Wake Up To The Joy In You, and there was a paragraph about the miracle that is a book: the process to make paper, the years of perfecting the printed word, the writer who wrote the book, and the miles the book has travelled to be in your hands. When you start thinking about life that way, everything is miraculous. It takes practice, but I’m trying.

Pandemic Reading – The Year Long Books

A Year With Rumi. I did it! I finished this! I did consider, very briefly, not finishing, but then the day after I posted about it, the poem of the day was The Guest House, which is probably my favourite Rumi poem (the bar is kind of low), and I took that as a sign to keep going. 365 poems and just a handful resonated with me; apparently I’m not a Rumi person. “Is it because he’s a man?” my son asked me. Maybe?

Wake Up To The Joy In You. I loved this book of meditations so much that I think I will re-read it in 2022. I read one chapter a week and then kept the meditation in mind throughout the week. I cannot say enough about this book; it’s an incredible journey of self-care and self-acceptance and self-love, and what could be a better thing to start the year with? I mean, look at this last chapter. EXACTLY WHAT I NEEDED TO READ.

Pandemic Reading – The Regular Week

How To Be A Victorian. Good lord I am glad to live in the modern age, even with a global pandemic and the polarization of our population on literally every topic. AT LEAST WE HAVE WASHING MACHINES. And food. And toilets. And central heating. And pretty much everything else. This book is an incredibly well-researched book about daily life in the Victorian age – the author has lived and worked on a “Victorian farm” and I admire her commitment to detail. Corsets, skirts, brushing her teeth with soot. Going without water-based washing for four months. Eating suet, SUET PEOPLE. Anyway, some chapters dragged for me and others were fascinating, particularly the home remedies and medical chapter. Oh! And the air quality in Victorian London was so gross – pea soup fog, no proper sewage…yay for the modern age! There is a passage about the pea soup fogs of London; at the worst of times you could wave your hand in front of your face and not see it. IMAGINE. Anyway, thanks to my friend Jeni (HI JENI) for the recommendation. Talk about gratitude. I AM GRATEFUL FOR MY LIFE, I SWEAR.

The Relatives. I was really interested to read this as I have been mixed on Gibb’s books. I loved Sweetness in the Belly, but did not love This Is Happy – sorry to all of you who adore that book. I really liked The Relatives, a lot. In fact, I devoured it. Such an interesting cast of characters, all interrelated but unknowingly. I am going to give some trigger warnings here for…a lot of things? Infertility, child neglect, abuse, and a lot of kind of gross imagery. But for all that, I really enjoyed this.

Love and Other Words. This was so disappointing for me. I really like this author and I really do like a nice, light romance, but this just didn’t do it for me. It dragged so much and I had a hard time caring about the characters and the story line. Blah blah blah. Anyway, not for me but on to the next book!

I feel like this post has been a bit of a journey for me, since I started writing it. I am still low-level worried and anxious and sad about school, but we are here, we are together, we’ve come this far and we can keep going. Right? I mean, let’s think about the Victorians. We have running CLEAN water, we might be facing Covid but we have vaccines and medical care and, presumably, we are not going to all die of cholera, because of the running water. My kids are at school, not in a sweatshop doing child labour, and today I’m going to bake muffins and do laundry and neither of those things will require massive amounts of physical exertion. Life is good, even when it feels a bit disheartening. How are you feeling, this New Year? Tell me everything. xo

Boyhouse Year In Review 2021

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Is it just me or was this year actually a decade?

Well! I think at this time last year we thought the Pandemic At The Disco would be in the rearview mirror, and yet it is not. Currently we are going through our FIFTH wave, which is extremely disheartening and, at this point, makes me feel like this is forever. Intellectually I know that’s not the case; everything passes with time and this will too. (WHEN?)

We are ending the year on a low; yesterday it was announced that the winter break would be “extended” and the January diploma exams, of which my older son was due to write three, have been cancelled. It is very discouraging. Going through this post I realized that there were many low moments, but I do feel like there was a lot of joy and laughter this year as well. I think living through a global pandemic has forced me to re-examine my life and to make new kinds of choices about it. There have been ups and downs and in-betweens, and, on that note, let’s examine the year in the Boyhouse.

Boyhouse Year In Review 2021

January

I set some goals and expressed my gratitude, I cleaned my oven and reused canning lids, after six weeks of at-home learning the kids went back to school and my son immediately broke his glasses in gym class, and I talked about being judgmental and how I don’t want to be that way, but we are only human. I also shared my hot tip on how to grow your hair out – just stop cutting it.

I kind of forgot how grim things were last January, with everything closed down for the second wave. Wait, was it the second? Yes, second. Still, look at that photo! Lots of beauty still to be found.

February

I continued to embrace the concept of friluftsliv with my fabulous wardrobe choices, I decided to change my mindset towards overstocking the pantry and also my period, it was really, really cold and it was also Family Day, which was great since I hadn’t spent every SINGLE waking hour with my family for eleven months, and I was really sad and couldn’t figure out if it was hormones or, you know, life in a pandemic. I also expressed my love for hearts and chocolate.

I must have cleaned my fridge right before that photo – it’s so shiny!

March

My son was almost done with his braces and to celebrate, I made him be my pack horse at the liquor store, in the spirit of Trying New Things I had body sugaring done and it was life-changing, I reflected on one year of Pandemic Living, I compared Costco 2021 to Costco 2020, and we had A Very Eventful Week which started with me thinking I had a blood clot to my son threatening to burn his orthodontic elastics, and, failing that, his masks. To add to the excitement, I talked about my favourite cleaning items, please don’t everyone click on that at once, you might break the internet.

April

Wow, a lot of things went wrong and so I was as cross as two sticks, my tenacious chin hair turned white and I had lots of awkward interactions at the library, we were in another mini-lockdown and so I talked about my Coping Mechanisms, I talked about being Pro-Aging, as opposed to Anti-Aging, which is a ridiculous concept, and I got vaccinated the day after my birthday! I also talked about my favourite skin-care products FOR PRO-AGING.

Gosh, remember how hopeful we all felt back then? Like the Pandemic was no longer going to be At The Disco. Good times.

May

After talking about Pro-Aging, I was asked if I wanted the senior’s discount at Shoppers, and then the lady didn’t even give me the discount, I had a really big downward spiral and then started to climb back up, then I had lots of ups and downs, including lineups at Costco (down) and flower purchases (up), it snowed and the kids were slated to go back to in-person school, Barkley turned 13, and I discussed all my favourite little helpers!

June

I was inspired to Embrace the Season – inspired by a woman who, sadly, has just recently passed after a long and difficult illness. Her words will remain with me forever, and she will be much missed. Rest in peace, Melanie.

Less sadly, I talked about clothing trends and how depressing the mall is these days, after a couple of weeks being in school the boys were on exam break, our provincial government continued to be stupid and dropped every single Covid protocol which, spoiler alert, was not a good idea, and I did a lot of gardening.

July

We visited my parents and I swam in the lake, the province may have dropped their mask mandate, but I kept my own, I talked about aging and my aging face, and I bought new bras and shared my favourite life-changing items.

August

We went on vacation and unsurprisingly given the complete lack of Covid restrictions, there were tons of outbreaks, I read a lot, I was grateful to Spotify, my aunt sent me Royal Family memorabilia, I almost lost my mind not being able to find my clothes, I did an “Ask Me Anything” post, I recycled all the old boxes my husband had hoarded out of the storage room, I got very Landslide-y, and recalled all the stupid things I used to worry about, and I loved my garden.

September

Thank you, Universe, the kids went back to school, we got our ducts cleaned and found a sheep, and my husband and I went to Lake Louise, I recapped eighteen months of Pandemic Life, my son turned 16 and I did a deep dive into Jane Eyre, I talked about clothing trends and bought new jeans, and I shared all my handbags with you.

October

I was feeling very low, I talked about gourds and Gords, I was – as always – grateful for modern technology as I have zero sense of direction, my cute little mini-gourds were being eaten by something in the neighbourhood, and I shared my favourite things about Spooky Season and discovered a gruesome scene.

November

I shifted my festivities focus from Spooky Season to Tiny Secret Festive Season, I was living la vida hygge, I had one-on-one time with my younger son and WE ATE TAKEOUT FOOD, I learned about thirst traps, I got full-on festive, and I talked about the reasons I love November.

Usually by this time in the annual recap, I think well, this just happened! but it feels like November was a year ago already. Time has no meaning.

December

I received the most thoughtful Secret Santa gift and my son came down with a cold, I completely lost track of the days, I had not one, but two Christmas miracles, I went to Banff with my husband, and I shared my favourite things about December.

As we wrap up the (very strange and weirdly long) year, I wish you all the best in 2022. WHO KNOWS WHAT 2022 WILL BRING. I think we can all agree that no one can predict anything anymore, but I hope you are all safe and healthy, and am wishing you much joy, peace, and happiness. Thank you, always, for reading my little blog. xo

Post-Christmas Haze; Ninety-Three Weeks In

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Hello there! I’m currently in that lovely post-Christmas, pre-New Year’s haze, still sipping coffee from my Christmas mugs, still surrounded by Christmas decorations and cards but with added Christmas CHOCOLATES everywhere, but without the busyness that comes pre-Christmas. It’s nice. There’s not much on my to-do list this week, other than the regular and never-ending household things, like the two giant loads of laundry I did yesterday after returning home from two nights at my parents’, not that I’m complaining, I will never complain again about the laundry, I have learned my lesson.

As a side note, I am currently reading an incredibly well-researched book about day-to-day life in the Victorian age, and there is a note about how the invention of the washing machine is considered to be up there with contraception and the vote in improvement of the lives of women. Reading about what was entailed in Washing Day certainly shows that. He worked really hard, Grandpa. So do washing machines.

Anyway! The big news around here, apart from the constant, never-ending, increasingly grim and worrisome Pandemic Updates, is the Weather. This was the ambient temperature at my parents’ house yesterday morning:

FEELS LIKE MINUS 42 YOU GUYS. There is cold, there is Cold, and then there is COLD.

One of my Christmas gifts from my husband – and this was a really lovely surprise – was a pair of battery-operated heated mittens. I feel this will be a life-changing item for this Reynaud-y girl.

Friluftsliv! Could I BE wearing any more clothes? There’s no bad weather, only bad clothes, I’m half Norwegian, etc.

I have never posted a photo of my husband on the blog before, and I probably never will again, but get ready because here he is:

If you recognize him on the street, be sure to say hi.

Despite our frosted heads, I was actually really warm, which goes to show that layers do work, and heated mittens are an incredible invention; maybe not quite as incredible as the automatic washing machine, but they are up there, Steve.

We spent Christmas Eve at home, watching Elf and wearing our WWE Christmas sweaters; the guys did their annual gingerbread house and you know what, there are no obscene markings with frosting or dead Santas, things have really changed in the Boyhouse:

We opened our gifts and stockings at home, and then drove up to my parents’ place to eat, drink, and be merry. I think I am now actually about fifty percent snack mix, and the other fifty percent is wine and Christmas sweets. We also played some heated rounds of Rummoli and rediscovered the sadistic joys of Sorry. Remember that game? It was really fun.

Oh! I almost forgot to tell you, because it happened six days ago and, you know what that’s like in Pandemic World, it feels like six months. My husband booked a night away for the two of us in Banff, and it was just so wonderful. Two things of note: this was the first time that we have left the boys alone for a night, and this was the first night away for the two of us since 2017. Per the first part, the boys are very responsible and all was just fine, of course, and per the second: 2017! I am going to go out on a limb and say that five years between having a night away is probably too many years. We hadn’t been to the Banff Springs since the boys were very small; I think perhaps my oldest was in kindergarten the last time, and the experience was even more magical than I remembered.

We walked downtown for dinner, and on the way back we walked through the town’s special light show, The Spirit of Christmas, which was gorgeous.

Our timing could not have been better; we were there the one day that temperatures were relatively mild – just below freezing – and when we got home the snow and wind started, and the temperatures plummeted, and I focused on hygge feelings and friluftsliv, as per my Northern European heritage.

So that was a wonderful way to kick off the holidays! The next day was Festivus and I did not even feel like I had any grievances to air, so floaty and relaxed was I. We did, however, play this game with the boys:

If you see this in the store and feel tempted to buy it, I am going to warn you that it’s actually not very fun. It was surprisingly dull and I think that Sorry would have been much better.

Pandemic Reading

Between Two Kingdoms. I’ll be thinking about this book for a long time to come; what an incredible memoir. Imagine being 22 and diagnosed with an aggressive form of leukaemia. The author goes through years of debilitating treatment, and comes through to wonder what’s next. She realized her whole life was centred on survival, but not living, and went on a road trip across the States. This book got me really thinking about the nature of illness, but also the role of the caregiver in such a relationship. The author’s boyfriend of only a few months essentially took on this role, and honestly, I don’t think I could have done a tenth of what he did. Anyway, it’s an incredible story, the author is a brilliant writer, and what she survived is actually breathtakingly horrific.

Where The Grass Is Green And The Girls Are Pretty. This was a good read about college admission scandals, which is something I don’t actually know much about. It’s just so different in Canada, I guess. The thing about this book is the characters are very complex – all at once sympathetic and also unlikeable. I have read a few books by this author and I think her writing has really gotten better with time, although the title? It’s not great. But, it’s just a title.

I hope you are all getting some well-deserved rest and relaxation! How have your holidays been so far? Tell me everything. xo