Category Archives: When I grow up

Fancy Festivities and Friends

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Here’s Your One Chance, Fancy, Don’t Let Me Down. Back in September 2020, when the kids first went back to in-person school after lockdown, my younger son told me that just walking through the halls and being around so many people made him really happy. I had that same feeling on Friday when my husband and I went to his company holiday party. I couldn’t stop smiling, just seeing other people all dressed up and looking universally beautiful. We are at a PARTY, I kept thinking, a HOLIDAY PARTY and everyone is DRESSED UP. I have no idea if this feeling of abject delight and wonder is going to continue throughout my life, but I hope it does.

It was so much fun, even if I am so unused to wearing heels that my feet were crying by the end of the night. What are you doing to me, where are our comfy shoes, what is happening right now.

We stayed at the party until TEN THIRTY PM and I wasn’t in bed until an hour later, and did you even know there was an 11:30 AT NIGHT? There is! I had prepared for this exciting and unheard of bout of wildness by doing two things I never do normally: I had a nap in the afternoon, and then I had a strong, caffeinated chai at 4:00 pm. WHEEEEEEE!

Last week I had invited all of you, my dear readers, to Ask Me Literally Anything, and I have had so many great questions that I will be answering in the coming weeks. My wild Friday night brings me to a question Pat (HI PAT) raised: I, like everyone else, am fascinated by you 4 a.m. wakeup. When you are on vacation, perhaps at your parents place, your lake house or a sunny destination, do you alter your schedule a bit? Maybe stay up till 9:30 and get up at 5? Well, Pat, on weekends I do sometimes sleep until 6 if I can! One thing about me is that my body seems to have a natural wakeup in the hour between 4 and 5, but on weekends or holidays I can usually lull myself back to sleep for another hour or two. I do try to stay up later when we are on vacation or visiting my parents, because it’s a bit ridiculous to go to bed at 8:30 when everyone is having fun and playing games. I thought maybe I could sleep in a bit this Saturday morning, but my son had a wrestling tournament and needed to be up by six, and although he drove himself to the school and is perfectly capable of getting through his own morning routine without his mother, I was still awake and drinking coffee by 6:05. You know how it goes, people.

And You May Ask Yourself, How Did I Get Here? I will be keeping the form open, mostly because I don’t know how to close it, so ask any questions you like. On the other hand, if you’re thinking really, I already know too much, that is cool too.

One question I did want to address came not from the form but from multiple comments about my Day in the Life post, with regards to teaching and practicing yoga. Some readers expressed surprise that I would practice yoga and then teach yoga in the same day, but those things are very separate to me. My personal yoga practice is a moving meditation, where I flow through postures – the Ashtanga primary series, with some additions and subtractions – doing breath work and ending with a nice savasana. I get on the mat every single day, even if it’s just a five minute seated meditation; I don’t feel like myself if I don’t practice. Teaching, on the other hand, is a different story: it’s work. I mean, it is fun work, and it is work that I enjoy, but it is work nonetheless. I am always “on,” and talking, and watching my students for cues that something is working or not working for them. I don’t focus on my own breathing, and it is not meditative in the least, because I am generally thinking of what posture we are going into next and how to include variations for students with a variety of old injuries and concerns.

I have been teaching many of my current students since 2017, so I have a good relationship with all of them, which I especially appreciated on Monday afternoon, when I was teaching my Strength and Tone ladies. We were in the middle of a downward dog when suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, my nose started bleeding, like that of a long-term cocaine addict. Such a thing has never happened to me before while teaching, and I hope it never happens again. When I say my nose started bleeding, I don’t mean a little trickle. I mean that I had to pause the class and it took TEN MINUTES to get things under control. Ten minutes is a very long time to be stanching a nose bleed, let me tell you. Fortunately my students are very kind and understanding, and were willing to independently use my tennis balls for some myofascial release at the wall while I went through every single tissue I had in my purse, and half the scratchy, recycled material paper towels that the community centre had next to the sink. I give my students homemade chocolates every year at Christmas, and I may have dropped a few extras in for these ladies, to thank them for their patience with my dramatically bleeding nose.

This Year, To Save Me From Tears, I’ll Give It To Someone Special. Last week I was having couple of down days; I felt mired in anxiety and worry about my children and their immediate and long-term futures, myself and my ability to handle Life’s Next Chapter, and also drooping sadness because it felt like everyone I was encountering was somehow yucking my yums. Normally I am a Que Sera, Sera Person, moving through life thinking we are doing our best, things will work out in the end, all will be well, and not being overly concerned if people don’t share my feelings about silly and fun things, but I just couldn’t shake my gloom. Part of this may have been due to the fact that I was short on sleep: one of the CO detectors’ battery died in the very early hours, waking me up with its incessant chirping even earlier than normal, and also that my Garmin was telling me that “it’s almost that time again!” which generally affects my sleep as well, in addition to my mood in general. I didn’t really need the reminder from my Garmin. My feelings of despair towards humanity were reminder enough, not to mention my giant swollen breasts that were spilling out of all of my yoga tanks.

My very dear friend Hannah who I love very much (HI HANNAH) somehow knew how I was feeling and sent me this, while I was standing in line at the post office, which in itself contributes to angst and despair:

It immediately turned my mood around; it made me so happy, and feel so seen. On days that I don’t get enough Last Christmas, I have been pulling out my sheet music and playing it on the piano. I am enjoying the fuck out of it.

Then, I came home to open a package sent to me by my dear friend Elise (HI ELISE), and I think I may have blacked out with excitement for a moment when I opened it.

Longtime readers will remember my obsession with the Sears Wish Book, and you just cannot even begin to imagine how exciting this was to receive in the mail. How did I get so lucky, to have such incredible friends? What an incredible gift! Thanks Elise!

This One’s For Becky. Back to the subject of music, I was driving home from the grocery store, listening to 70s on 7 – HI SUZ, the only other person I know who listens to that station – and Coward of the County came on. Let me just say that a) my parents were big Kenny Rogers fans, and b) I know the lyrics to almost every song I was exposed to more than once from my very young childhood to today, which means that probably 90% of my brain is song lyrics. If I could free up my brain power from remembering all these lyrics, I could probably cure cancer or something. Anyway, I hadn’t heard Coward of the County for many years but I still cheerfully sang along. Wow, that is one upbeat tune, given the grim nature of the song. Gang rape! Murder leading to lifetime incarceration! Generational trauma! I remember singing this song as a small child, which is unsettling to think of. Small Nicole, with her little bowl cut and her 70s clothing, singing Folks just called him Yellow! Son, you don’t have to fight to be a man.

I was likely singing and/ or talking in this photo, but it’s unlikely it was Coward of the County. Probably it was a Christmas song, or maybe just a stream of consciousness about the ornaments. Who can say.

Weekly Reading

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes. This seems like a bit of a morbid topic – the death/ mortuary/ funeral industry – but it is actually quite beautiful in a weird way, about honouring dead bodies and death rituals. I have always wondered about things like expensive caskets and the like, in a WHY kind of way. This was fascinating but not for the squeamish! One of my nephews is interested in pursuing a career in this industry, and reading it helped me understand the motivation.

Thanks For Waiting. This was an interesting concept for a memoir, from the cohost of Forever 35, one of my favourite podcasts. Shafrir talks about being a “late-bloomer,” achieving all those life milestones much later than all her peers, from tweenhood on. It goes from life as a writer in mice-infested NYC apartments, to living and dating in LA, to marriage and the incredible heartache of infertility treatments. It’s incredibly honest and brave, and I could hear her voice as I read this.

The Holiday Breakdown. You know I love a holiday romance, and this was just so delightful and fun. I smiled the whole time I was reading this sweet story; the main character was so fun and charming. The author cohosts Were You Raised By Wolves (two podcast-host books in a row!) and I could feel her warm and delightful personality shining though.

I hope you have a lovely week ahead of you. Maybe some festivities, as well? If you have some Heel Worthy Events, may I suggest some prophylactical Advil? That is, if you can get it. xo

Very Random November Observations

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Everybody Dance Now

The other day Gonna Make You Sweat came on while I was working out, and I realized that I cannot hear that song without immediately picturing the dance scene in Old School. That movie is stupid and problematic, and neither the story nor the timeline make any sense, and yet I will never not find it funny. Back in the day when I worked on a trade floor, my work group were all guys, and one of them lent me his Old School DVD, which led to us all quoting from it all the live-long day. Not an hour went by without someone saying “It has three speeds,” or “What my friend is trying to say is that love is blind,” or “HE’S GONNA DO ONE!” or “Once it hits your lips it’s so good,” “Denver. The Sunshine State,” or my personal favourite, “EARMUFFS!” I realize that none of these statements would make any sense to anyone who hadn’t watched the movie ten times, but imagine, if you will, that each of these statements were considered by us to be a satisfactory answer to almost any request or comment. Nicole, are the prices in yet? Bring your green hat, let’s go. (Translation: yes, the prices are in, and I’m running the numbers right now.)

There is a scene in the movie where Frank goes streaking, by himself, and that made me think of my late father-in-law, whose greatest regret in life was that he didn’t go streaking in the 70s, when it was semi-popular to do so. Remember the song The Streak? The 70s were a magical time. Regrets, we all have them. I have one in particular.

Flash Flash Flash

Remember when flash mobs were a thing? I wish I had been part of one. I regret never being in one because I don’t think flash mobs exist anymore, and even if they did, how would I get myself involved? In any case, my enthusiasm for dancing far exceeds my talent for dancing. I am like one of the twins in the Charlie Brown Christmas, bad hair and all.

Maybe one day! Maybe one day I will have the opportunity to dance in a flash mob, and if the universe is listening, I will dance to anything but Everybody Dance Now would be amazing.

Those Are The Fax, Ma’am

I don’t know what made me think of it, but I realized that, like flash mobs, fax machines are a thing of the past. Isn’t it strange and kind of sad to think of all these completely obsolete items, probably residing in landfills? I mean, who would use a fax machine these days? I asked my husband about it and he said he thought his office still had them, but no one uses them. RIP fax machines.

Speaking of things made obsolete by the internet, remember Adult Video Stores? Or the Adult Video Section in regular video stores, that was cordoned off by a curtain? I mean, since video stores no longer exist, I assume that neither of those things exist as well, but did something else take their place? I have, it should be admitted, never set foot inside an Adult Video Store but now I’m wondering if they just became Adult Stores, the kind of places that sell – I assume – different lubes or costumes or what have you. But then again, all those things are available on the internet and one wouldn’t have to risk running into That Guy From Church while perusing the Naughty Nurse costumes or flavoured lubricant or something really awesome that I don’t even know about*.

Lettuce Pray

I’m going to address the elephant in the room: the lettuce shortage! My friend Hannah (HI HANNAH) mentioned it to me early last week, and I was completely surprised. The week before, I hadn’t noticed anything amiss in the produce section. WELL. Things change, roll with the punches; I went to Superstore on Wednesday and while they did indeed have lettuce, it was insanely priced. Iceberg was $5/ head, which, as Hannah said, is a lot to pay for crunchy water. Romaine was $8 for a three-pack of hearts. I ended up buying two bunches of kale for our Sunday night dinner; I always make a salad to go with that particular meal, and kale Caesar is a very popular choice in our house. I mentioned the shortage to my Thursday morning yoga class, and one of the ladies said that when she was young, they never had salad in the winter, only potatoes, turnips, and canned vegetables. I mentioned frozen vegetables and how great they are to reduce food waste, and she said that frozen vegetables were brand new when she was a child and they never had them. This probably indicates to you the demographic of my students.

Although I don’t tend to notice the price on produce that much, a few weeks ago cauliflower was something like $7/ head. This past week, Superstore had them on limited special:

Whatever you do, don’t go over the limit!!! That’s my two cents, anyway.

Girls, Girls, Girls

I am very sad to say that Pippa the ornamental pepper plant has died. I was weirdly devastated by this. Apparently ornamental peppers are very easy to grow, as long as you live in a warm, humid climate, which is the opposite of the climate in which I reside. I kept looking sadly at her rapidly dropping leaves and wrinkly fruits, and then took matters into my own hands. Pippa ended up in the compost, and I ended up in the garden centre, and how I didn’t come home with a van full of gnomes, I will never know. Wow, the garden centre has a lot of Christmas gnomes. Anyway, what I did end up bringing home were two lovely plants that will hopefully not die in my chilly, dry house. Meet Eva and Stella!

Is my life goal of becoming a Crazy Plant Lady hampered by the Death of Pippa? I hope not. Actually, given the probably outsized nature of my sadness about Pippa, it probably escalates me firmly into Crazy Plant Lady Territory. Particularly since I refer to the plants, including Noelle the Christmas Cactus, as The Girls.

Weekly Reading

We All Want Impossible Things. Oh. You guys. I have been reading Catherine Newman since 2004, back in her Babycenter days, and, as I have surely mentioned, her writing was one of the inspirations to starting this blog. Her writing speaks to me so much, and I almost feel like I have one of those parasocial relationships with her. Anyway, this is her first novel, and I absolutely devoured it and didn’t want it to end. It is a novel based on her actual experience, of her best friend dying in hospice of cancer. The way she writes about hospice is beautiful and heartbreaking and also weirdly hilarious. It’s Signature Catherine Newman, that mix of wrenching and hilarity.

I listened to an interview of her on a podcast – I am not going to say which one because I DEEPLY dislike the podcast, but I made an exception for her – and she said that because this was her first novel, she read a book about how to write a novel, and I found that incredibly reassuring and inspirational. I mean. There is hope for all aspiring writers! And this book is about hope, and grief, and finding beauty in the most painful situation possible. There is also a scene in which she is plucking chin hair for her incapacitated friend, and I would like to tell my dear friends who in the terrible event that they are similarly incapacitated, I will offer my chin-hair-plucking-services. May that day never come, but I found that to be The Testament in Ultimate Friendship.

Startup. Speaking of parasocial relationships, I kind of feel like I have one with Doree Shafrir, who cohosts my current favourite podcast, Forever 35 (“a podcast about the things we do to take care of ourselves” – ladies, you are speaking my language). This is a novel about three women, whose lives become intertwined in the tech startup world. It’s a statement on toxic masculinity in tech culture, and I am here for it. It’s so smart and readable! The characters and their issues are so real; I dove into this book and did not want to come up for air.

So many random things to talk about! I have many more topics to touch on but that will have to wait for another day. Have a beautiful week, friends. Happy Thanksgiving week to all my American beauties! xo

*if you understand that reference, you have watched a lot of Old School. Not to worry, you’re in the Trust Tree with me.

A Week of Spring Outfits; 114 Weeks In

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The other morning after class I complimented one of my ladies on her cherry-red top. She always looks good in one of her several red, pink, and purple tops, but that morning she looked particularly glowing and lovely, and I told her so. She thanked me and then said, “Well, Nicole, you know, I’m a Spring.” I smiled at that, and she followed it up with her theory that even if you don’t get your Colours done officially, you can tell what season you are by what clothing you gravitate towards. Her theory said that we naturally choose the clothes and colours that suit us best, and you know, I think she’s right.

I know for myself, I gravitate towards what I recently heard referred to as the New York Rainbow – black, grey, and white – and simple cuts and lines. I read The Curated Closet this week, which is all about discovering and cultivating your personal style and esthetic, one that works with your lifestyle, without succumbing to trends that are unsuitable or fast fashion, so it’s fitting that this week’s post is all about clothing.

As a note, I recognize that fashion trends are not aimed at me or my demographic. I know! I know. The trendsetters are not putting together lookbooks with the 47-year-old Calgary woman in mind, but wow, this season’s fashion trends are not at all suited to me or the esthetic I aim for. Let’s just forget about the bright colours and patterns that I don’t feel comfortable in, let’s just forget about how SHORT all the tops are this season, which are not flattering for my perimenopausal figure, let’s just talk about about cut: everything is ruched and ruffled and the puffy sleeves are enough to satisfy Anne Shirley’s deepest desires. Everything is ruffled! Everything has ruching! Sleeves are all puffed and shoulders are expanded upon! Needless to say, this isn’t an esthetic that works for me, which, on the upside, means that it’s pretty easy to refrain from mindlessly shopping.

One of the topics in The Curated Closet is the Uniform; not an actual uniform, but the type of clothes a person wears daily. Do you have a Spring Uniform? My Spring Uniform is not too dissimilar from my Rest Of The Year Uniform, which is to say fitted pants – yoga leggings or skinny jeans – and longer, often flowing tops, with lots of layers. Layers are key when you live in a climate like Calgary’s – spring is incredibly and wildly volatile, and temperatures, precipitation, and wind speeds can and do change hourly. Also, we had windchills below zero this week with icy cold rain and, yes, snowflakes in the air, which, well, I’ll just be over in the corner crying softly, thinking about my garden.

My dad told me that he read that this spring is the coldest Western Canada has had in…I forget what he said, actually, but whatever it was I found it weirdly comforting. I had started to lose all perspective and just accept that we lived in a frozen hellscape where summer will never come, never. Ah! This isn’t normal! Sometimes it IS warm! It gave me a weird sense of hope.

Anyway, back to clothes. While I’d like to showcase seven days of light springwear, this is not my reality. Instead I give you seven days of clothes while dealing with crazy weather fluctuations! Please note that while two of the pants are new within the last year, most of these pieces are several years old, some more than a decade old. When I buy a piece, I want it to last a long time and I want it to incorporate into my wardrobe smoothly. Not to anthropomorphize my clothing or anything, but I want all my pieces to get along and play nicely together. I love getting dressed in the morning; putting together the Day’s Costume based on my activities and the weather is always fun for me. One of the reasons I love Marie Kondo is her Sparking Joy concept; my clothes spark joy and they all have a role to play in my life. Okay, maybe I anthropomorphize my clothing. But what of it? It’s not like I think they have a secret life and are enacting little dramas and romances when I go to bed at night. (But what if they do? That would be fun.)

One Week of Spring Outfits

Thursday

The week starts on a Thursday! Thursday is a teaching day, and this is a pretty typical teaching outfit for me: yoga tank and leggings with a tee. The fitted tank is essential, because tees tend to ride up during things like downward dog, and I prefer to keep my midriff covered at all times. It’s hard to tell from the photo but the tank is a black and charcoal camo print, and the tee matches the charcoal. It’s all about the little things.

This is a little thing but I left the house with just a sweater and scarf! No coat! No boots! No gloves! As mentioned above, with our weather this is NOTABLE. Most people associate scarves with fall, but I associate them with spring and jauntily strolling around with only a light sweater as protection against the elements.

Friday

This was hands-down my favourite outfit of the week. The jeans are new and a perfect fit, which is miraculous because I bought them online during Black Friday sales, which is risky! The risk paid off! Sweater, tank, and scarf are all many years old, and the shoes are the cutest and comfiest little Skechers. Well, not little. My feet are pretty big. But I’m wearing SHOES without SOCKS and not BOOTS. Spring!

Saturday

We have been trying to go bowling at our fitness club as a family as often as possible, and the last time we went, there was a young girl’s birthday party going on and it was glow-in-the-dark bowling with a dance competition on the big screen! So much fun. I have moves like Jagger, people. Anyway, these jeans were also part of my online Black Friday purchase, and this top, well, I love it. I bought it while shopping with my mom in her small town, probably seven years ago now. It doesn’t get much wear because it’s so lightweight, the weather has to be warm, but not too warm, to wear it.

Saucy bowling shoes courtesy of the club.

Sunday

Gardening day! It was warm enough to be in the garden, and so I was out there for a long time, edging and weeding and basically spinning around with happiness.

The jeans date from 2008 and have, clearly, worn right through the knees. The tee was a $5USD purchase from Maui in 2015 or 2016, and it always gives me happy tropical memories. Those shoes are my gardening shoes; they are Skechers with a flower motif.

Monday

Monday is a teaching day, so my uniform of tank, tee, and tights is the order of the day. This was the warmest day of the week, and so my tights are capri-length, and again, shoes with no socks!

Tuesday

Well, nothing can last forever, and this was the day the weather changed for the worse. No more shoes without socks, no leaving the house without a coat.

I have to tell you about this coat: I bought it when the boys were in preschool. PRESCHOOL! And this week my son graduates high school. I love it just as much as when I bought it; it’s a little “off-brand” for me colour-wise but I love it. It’s lined, it’s waterproof, it has a hood and is long enough to keep me warm on these chilly spring days.

Underneath: a sweater, but a light sweater, paired with a tank and the most comfortable pants you can imagine. These pants are from lululemon, and they are actual pants with a button and zipper, but they feel like yoga pants. It’s magic.

Did you know Sorel makes non-winter boots? They do! These are cute and comfortable AND water-proof, so good for snowy/ rainy spring days that are not below freezing. Did I just type that sentence? Yes, I did.

Wednesday

Wednesday is grocery day, and so I need something akin to workout wear. I mean, this was my haul from Superstore and Costco last Wednesday:

It took 52 minutes to put everything away. Forget carry-out service, I need a service to help me actually put the groceries away in my house.

Anyway, this Extreme Workout requires comfortable clothes that I can move around in, and that means yoga tank and pants, and this cute light sweater that cannot be worn without something underneath because it’s roomy and moves around a lot, if you know what I’m saying.

That’s it for the outfits, now for the books!

Pandemic Reading

These Precious Days. OH. I don’t think I can adequately express how much I loved this. I have read many essay collections and none have affected me like this. Everything resonated. Everything moved me. I feel a kinship and connection to the author that is incredibly strong. I loved every single word. I’m a fast reader but I slowed down because I didn’t want this to be over. It was such an incredible read for me and I cannot say enough about it.

The Curated Closet. As I mentioned above, this was a perfect book for my Week of Spring Outfits! This was so much fun to read! It’s all about discovering and establishing your own personal style and aesthetic, with helpful hints on how to shop mindfully, look for quality and fit, and detox your closet. Very fun and really well laid out and photographed. It has inspired me to go ahead with a Big Project that I have been turning around in my mind for the last few months.

Honor. I pride myself on being honest in my reviews, and this is painful for me to say. I have been looking forward to reading this for months; I was so excited when it came in at the library. I love this author and I was so interested in the very important story and theme. I want you to know that, to know just how much I hate to say what I’m going to say: I am disappointed. I found the characters to be one-dimensional and it was difficult to care about them, the dialogue is stilted, and the narration seemed contrived and heavy handed. It pains me to say it. Based on the author’s other works, I expected to be transported and amazed, but I wasn’t. It lacked the nuance and subtlety I love about her other books. It’s a decent book, it’s worth a read, but it’s not incredible or transformative and that is what I expected. It might be just me, and having high expectations, but this was a let down. 

I have a hugely busy and exciting week ahead, the sun is supposed to shine (mostly), and so I am feeling great and optimistic! I hope you have a wonderful spring-y week! xo

Celebrate Good Times, Come On!; 106 Weeks In

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Let’s celebrate! It’s all right! Baby!

I would like to tell you that I have that song in my head, but no, no. I have had 24K Magic in my head for four days now, but not the whole song. Just ONE line, over and over. Every so often I will burst forth with it: Put your! Pinky! Fingers! To the! MOON!, which elicits one of two reactions: my older son will dutifully put up his pinky fingers, my younger son will close his eyes briefly, with the silent agony that comes with having Not A Regular Mom, A Cool Mom.

Speaking of music, thanks to my dad we have discovered a music channel on TV that is called Greatest Hits, and it’s true, every song that plays was a hit at one point. The screen shows the song that’s playing, and the one that will follow, and it is bananas. We have been watching this to guess what could possibly come next, but no one could actually guess what does come next. It’s like someone took all the Top Ten every year for the last sixty years, put them in a giant hat, and randomly drew them out. Whitney Houston will be followed by Bo Diddley, and after that, it’s The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. Justin Timberlake is followed by Tie A Yellow Ribbon Round The Old Oak Tree, and then it’s Heat of the Moment. Hit Me Baby One More Time will be followed by a Shania Twain song, and just when you think you’re in the 90s, the station plays Super Freak.

A small digression about Shania Twain: she is the one and only celebrity I have ever been compared to in my life. This was in the mid-nineties, and I was wearing a denim vest with a tank top underneath, and I would be flattered by the comparison, but the gentleman in question who was comparing me to the lovely songstress was near-passing-out-drunk.

Last night during dinner I asked my husband if he’d put on some kind of Disney music channel: it was Beauty and the Beast, followed by The Rainbow Connection, and he answered with a look only. Immediately after Kermit and Miss Piggy’s duet was Frank Sinatra followed, strangely, by Faith Hill. What is happening at the Greatest Hits station. Who is in charge of the playlist?

But back to Celebrating! We have had a lot to celebrate this week – it was our 20th anniversary, and my son’s 18th birthday, both on the same day. It was also spring break, we were able to come out of isolation, and the snow has all melted!

It’s still March, though, so we have snow ahead of us, but it’s nice to get the base layer off the ground. In fact, I was walking to the little salon in our neighbourhood to get a pedicure, and suddenly I thought “what just blew into my face?” I literally thought small particles of a building material just blew off a roof or something; it’s hard to describe, but it was like being hit in the face with confetti in a wind machine. It was a sudden, out-of-nowhere snowstorm – there were no warning flakes, nothing except sudden total snow and wind. It’s melted now but it was bizarre, even for a lifelong Calgary girl.

To celebrate our 20th anniversary, my husband and I went back to the scene of the crime – Banff. We spent a night at the lovely Banff Springs, and it was wonderful.

So, that was perfectly lovely, and I was grateful that we were out of isolation in time to go.

We celebrated my son’s birthday with cake and a nice dinner, and an afternoon of bowling – he also celebrated with his friends, once THEY were all out of isolation. Covid has made its way through almost all of my sons’ friends, after two years of nothing.

Pandemic Reading

Apples Never Fall. WOW!!! I loved this book! I have enjoyed all of Moriarty’s books, and this one is EXCELLENT! A woman goes missing; her husband is the main suspect. Did he do it? Full of twists and turns, secrets and astonishing, unexpected wisdom, this book was fantastic. Surprise: there is a small pandemic-related storyline. I cannot tell you anything else – you know how Moriarty is, just when you think you’ve figured it out, there’s another twist.

The Mother-in-Law. This was a pretty decent – mystery? Maybe? I’m not sure what to call it. – about a woman who appears to have ended her life, due to terminal cancer. The problem is, after death no cancer is found, nor the poison she apparently took to end her life. So what happened? It wasn’t hard to guess, but a decent read nonetheless. It had me thinking a lot about the mother-in-law/ daughter-in-law relationship. Is there any relationship with such potential to be fraught? This is an interesting “from-both-sides” perspective.

Once when the boys were babies, someone at playgroup said that you never really appreciate your own mother until you become one, and that really resonated for me. Certainly I appreciated my own mother more, once I was in the Mother Shoes myself. But I realized something, and that was that with two boys – two heterosexual, cis boys, as I have – I will be, if I am very lucky, a mother-in-law, and that is a very different relationship, as we all know. It’s something that seems far away right now, but it is something I think about. It’s something I will want to get right, but it is so delicate, and it so much depends on personality and patience, it seems.

Anyway, that was NOT the point of the book, but something I have been thinking about nonetheless.

Enjoy these last few days of March, my friends! I hope it’s going out like a lamb for you. 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

Festivities Shift; Eighty-Five Weeks In

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Hello November!!

It was a brisk, wintry start to the weekend, so I wasn’t sure if we would even get any Trick-or-Treaters, but we ended up with an all-time high of 43, smashing our earlier record of 25. Maybe it was the decorations!

We do have some candy left over, which some of us are happier about than others.

Speaking of sugar, all occasions must be marked by sugar cookies, it is a law, while you’re living under my roof, you will obey my rules!

The first of November is, as you know, the beginning of Tiny Secret Festive Season! Today I’ll wear my Christmas bracelet, which will be with me until the New Year, and I will swap out the hand soaps for festive-themed ones. Tonight will be the night for red-plaid festive pajamas, my nightly foot cream will be swapped out for the Vanilla Candy Cane scent, I’ll start using my Christmas bookmarks, and my grocery lists will all be written on gingerbread-themed notepads. In a couple of weeks, I’ll start using the Christmas tea towels and Buddy the Elf mugs, and by then it will be soon time to decorate totally, so that by the end of the month we will be fully into the festive swing of things.

And on that note, I am ALMOST done my Christmas shopping, you guys! I know! Even for me, it’s early. Last week I carved out an afternoon just for going to the mall. I remembered what shopping felt like last year, and what it felt like was not fun. I recalled just trying to get every gift necessary in my one trip to the mall, and ending up completely exhausted and sour. You know what, I don’t want to live my life like that anymore. I don’t want to think of shopping for gifts for my loved ones, for my favourite holiday, as a huge dreaded chore. BE THE CHANGE, I thought, and so I changed my attitude about it.

One thing about me is that Gift Giving is not really my predominant Love Language (it’s Acts of Service). I have a tendency to get stressed and nervous when buying gifts – what if they don’t like it, what if it’s the wrong thing – and I think that is not the right way to think about Christmas gifts. Gifts are GIFTS. I don’t really remember being super-specific with wish lists when I was a kid. I remember being excited and happy opening gifts, and even when they weren’t things I would have specifically chosen, I would be delighted. I am still that way now. So why, I wondered, was I becoming stressed about getting the exact right thing for the exact right person? It’s a GIFT.

So that was the mindset I was trying to cultivate, and anyone with teen boys or other people who are difficult to buy for, people who have everything and want for nothing, will know what I mean.

The second part of my mindset was that I don’t need to get every single thing in one fell swoop. Last year, I kind of did; everything was new in terms of masks and customer limits in the store and sanitization stations everywhere. We still have our indoor mask mandate here, and almost no one walks around with a mask under their noses anymore. There are still limits to customers and hand sanitizers when one enters a store, but it feels pretty normal and much less dystopian now.

Old habits die hard, and I was tempted to buy the first thing I saw and to speed walk through the mall, but I told myself to slow down. It’s October 26, I said to myself, You can come back next week. Or later! I really tried to just enjoy the shopping experience, and as they say, fake it until you make it. And it worked! I really enjoyed myself. I browsed through a few stores, making mental notes about some items I thought would suit some of my giftees, I spent a LOT of time in Indigo choosing a paper agenda for 2022 for MYSELF, while looking at their displays of silly and delightful little things suitable for stockings, and, after lapping the mall once, I went back to the stores and bought the items that had initially caught my eye. I had a few ideas for my husband but at that point I was pretty laden down with bags. I think I’ll go back tomorrow and buy them, and maybe spend another enjoyable afternoon browsing around.

Pandemic Reading

Seven Days In June. This was an interesting mix of light, fun, sexy romance, and a commentary on the devastating personal toll of social issues. The plot follows two writers who had a (kind of) romantic week together fifteen years prior, and who have been writing the character of the other person into their books ever since. Sounds lovely and light, but that romantic week included massive drug use, self-mutilation, and eventual overdose. So…not as light as one might think.

What We Don’t Talk About When We Talk About Fat. I listen to and enjoy Aubrey Gordon’s podcast Maintenance Phase, which is about the toxicity of the “wellness” industry. The theme of this book is that anti-fat bias is the last “socially acceptable” mode of discrimination; it details the kind of discrimination faced, interspersed with truly horrifying stories about the way people treat other people. It also discusses the value we as a society place on certain body types, and how we assign morality to bodies and foods. It is something I had been thinking about for a while: a few summers ago, a friend was sharing with me her struggle to lose weight, and several times she used the words “good” and “bad” to describe herself and the food that she ate. I haven’t been bad at all! It bothered me then and it bothers me now, and I am still having a hard time articulating why. Anyway, this book is well-written, well-researched, informative and thought-provoking.

Happy November to you all! Have a great week! Is anyone else starting to gear up for the holiday season, or is it just me? xo

The Case of the Missing Gourds; Eighty-Four Weeks In

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I don’t want to alarm anybody, but something is eating my decorative gourds.

I started out with eight white mini-pumpkins, and I am down to two. My husband suggested someone was STEALING them, but I think that is unnecessarily suspicious of people in my neighbourhood, and also, if our home is going to be the the victim of theft, I don’t think it is the mini-pumpkins that are going to be targeted.

No, something is eating them, and the proof was staring us into the face when we noticed two large bites taken out of the decorative red gourd. At first I was willing to believe that a murder of crows was carrying off the mini-pumpkins, but the nature of the bite marks on the red gourd do not suggest a bird. Perhaps it is one of the many wild rabbits in the neighbourhood. I was prepared to cast the blame on my usual nemeses, the squirrels, but people, this is no squirrel.

I sprinkled cayenne on the gourds to deter predators, but on the upside, if this carnage continues, I will not have to worry about composting anything come November 1.

It has been an interesting week, and not just because of the disappearing gourds. We had a municipal election, which I voted for in the advance polls and as such kept forgetting that the election was not over. Why are there still signs around? Oh yeah. I knew the platforms of the frontrunners – enough to make an informed choice – but I have not been paying attention to the news at all as a self-care measure, and so I was very surprised to see 27 mayoral candidates. TWENTY-SEVEN. Who are these people and where did they all come from?

I was driving to the Superstore, which is ten minutes from my house, and noticed a big sign for one of the mayoral candidates that I never had heard of before. This gentleman’s tagline was “Calgary’s Cheapest Mayor” which, what. Who is doing your PR, sir?

Actually, whoever is doing the PR must have known that someone like me would immediately look up this gentleman’s platform because CHEAPEST MAYOR WHAT. I spent far too much time thinking that maybe he’s a guy who gives holiday cards saying that in lieu of gifts, a donation has been made to the Human Fund, or when splitting the cheque at dinner he pays exactly the amount for his entree, without tax or tip, or doesn’t offer to pay for part of the appetizer even though he ate half of it. Maybe all of those things are true, but they were not on his platform. It should be obvious but he was running on a platform of low expenditures and taxes, but what I did not know was that this person refused to door knock or go to any in-person interviews or meetings at all due to the pandemic. Maybe he didn’t want to spend money on gas? He did not win, nor did he even come into the top 20, but I shall give a little nod to his determination.

Speaking of Superstore, this week I earned an unprecedented 40,400 PC Points, and for those of you who are not in Canada or who do not shop at Superstore (who hurt you?) there is an app that tracks all your purchases, Big Brother-like, and then offers you points for things you regularly buy, which can be exchanged for store credit. For example, this week my offers include 200 points for every $1 spent on grapes and 1000 points for every $5 spent on the brand of yogurt I buy, among others. You get the idea. Anyone who spends a few months examining the patterns of the offers can figure out the basic algorithm, which is what I have done, and I shop accordingly to maximize my points and why are you looking at me like that. Anyway, I have been holding out on buying a few cosmetic items – Neutrogena products, mostly, but also hair colour – because I knew the points offers would be soon and THIS WAS THE WEEK.

My husband is of the belief that if I ever won the lottery, I would be more excited to receive the funds in PC Points than in actual cash, which is untrue, but also not totally untrue, if you know what I mean.

Speaking of my husband, it was his birthday this week, and you know what that means! Cake!

Since the rule in this house is that birthdays are celebrated for at least a week in some way, I also baked a pie on the weekend, and that, along with cooking some giant meals, meant a lot of time in the kitchen. Yesterday alone I washed dishes SEVEN TIMES. I am thinking that next weekend, I might heat up some frozen pizzas, set out some pre-made salads and Halloween candy, and call it a day.

Pandemic Reading

In The Country of Others. I have always been interested in Morocco, and this book gives incredible depth and detail to that country post-World War II, leading up to the revolt against French colonialism. It follows a war bride Frenchwoman who marries a Moroccan man and goes to live in a desolate farm in that country. It was well done and contained many layers, but I found the writing to be somewhat…disjointed, maybe? I can’t think of the right description. It almost felt like a series of vignettes linked together, and it did feel like it was a translation and that English is not the first language of the author, which it is not. The themes are very dark and disturbing – triggers include domestic abuse – and it is very nuanced as well. So much symbolism, for those of you who like that. I liked it, but did not love it, and I’ll be thinking about it for a while.

What Fresh Hell Is This? Oh, you guys. This book is really incredible: so empowering and liberating. From managing perimenopause in a patriarchal society that diminishes aging women to examining your own life and lighting a match to what doesn’t serve you, to realizing that menopause is not a disease or a defect, but a normal part of life – albeit one with effects that can be mildly bothersome to downright dreadful – this book is enlightening. It also is inclusive of people who experience menopause and do not identify as women or were not female at birth, which I am sorry to say, is a point of view I had not considered. It gives great advice about managing effects of menopause in a way that is in no way patronizing, and includes topics that can be very sensitive, like the feeling of becoming invisible or losing our looks or femininity. I especially liked how the author talked about the importance of social support and referenced the Golden Girls episode when Blanche realized she was going through The Change. There were a few things that did not feel relevant for my life, like the idea of opening up my monogamous relationship to explore my sexuality, for example, but the entire attitude shift that is celebrated in this book was really great. Thanks to my friend Cherie (HI CHERIE) for the recommendation!

On that note, I hope you have an empowered and liberated week, this last week of October! May the Halloween candy last until Sunday. xo