Category Archives: Yoga

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Self-Care During A Global Pandemic Edition

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Over the weekend, the situation changed hourly. By Sunday night, essentially everything was shut down: libraries, the gym, yoga studios, SCHOOL. School is – and I can’t think too much about this, I cannot think more than a day or two at a time right now – closed indefinitely. INDEFINITELY. Like I said, I can’t think too much about this. My kids are absolutely crushed; they are devastated about not seeing their friends, of course, but also worried about the academic implications. The high school is getting online learning going, and my high school student only has two core subjects this semester, both of which I personally excel at, math and English, so I will be able to help him as much as I can. He is currently reading To Kill a Mockingbird, which is one of my all-time favourites, so I am re-reading it now so we can have some good critical discussions. That, along with online math lessons, should be at least moderate to keep up with what will be needed in Grade 11, the important grade in terms of post-secondary early admissions.

The junior high, however, has stated that teachers CANNOT provide ANY school resources at this time, which, well. All of my son’s textbooks are online, so we can figure things out, and he is a very methodical worker so I’m hoping he will be able to self-learn. Of course I am here for his math and English as well – he is slated to study The Outsiders, which we have at home – but I’m unsure about the science and social studies curriculum. Well, we will get through. There will be a time after this, I keep telling myself. This isn’t forever.

The funny thing is that this week I had planned in my head to write a Favourite Things: Self Care Edition because of how busy this week always is, getting ready for spring break. It seems like an entirely different lifetime, doesn’t it? Like, normally I would be scrambling trying to fit in my bikini wax between classes, get the dog to the boarding kennel, and pack all the bags. I might even feel resentful that I am the key bag-packer in the house. OH TO HAVE THAT RESENTMENT.

Like I said, I can’t think too much about it. I can’t think about indefinite school closures, I can’t think about the escalation of cases and deaths, I can’t think about the massive economic fallout that this will have on everyone. We all have to take care of ourselves, and with that in mind…

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Self-Care During a Global Pandemic Edition

Daily Mantra

Every day I repeat to myself that there are many things out of my control, so I can only control what I can control. It’s like I’m basically repeating the Serenity Prayer to myself over and over. God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change things I can, and wisdom to know the difference. We can only control our own thoughts, our own movements, our own actions. I can’t control the schools closing indefinitely but I can help the kids with lessons every day.

Daily Yoga

Yes, the studios are all closed but I have a long and well-established practice that I can easily do at home. Even if you DON’T, now is the time to start. God, if there was any time to start a home yoga practice, it would be now. My studio is starting to offer classes online – I’ll be teaching one this week, stay tuned! – but of course there are also countless YouTube videos out there. My husband is benefiting from my I-Miss-Teaching state of mind, and I’m giving him mini at-your-desk sessions throughout the day. Roll out your mat, and breathe.

How do you like my home yoga studio? Squeezed in between the kitchen and the dining room table which is also doubling as my husband’s work-from-home station. Well, that’s the great thing about yoga, all you need is enough space to roll out your mat.

Keep Active

With the gym closed, and my treadmill running and spin classes obviously being non-existent, I am putting in extra efforts to keep active. I am lucky enough to have an elliptical trainer in my basement, and fortunately the weather is decent – so long daily walks are on the schedule. The sidewalks are still pretty icy so I’m not comfortable running outside, but I will revisit that later. In any case, daily activity is important. And so is fresh air! At least this didn’t happen in January, I think to myself. Right? Because the days are longer and the sun is stronger. Get outside, breathe the air, be active.

Nourish Your Body

Let me tell you, on Friday I was in Let’s Eat And Drink Whatever We Want My God This Is The Apocalypse mode, and that was fine for a couple days, but definitely not sustainable. For one thing, if I keep drinking a bottle of wine every night I would quickly run out of wine. For another, I don’t want to outgrow all my clothes because well, no shopping for a while. So I’m keeping up with my Eating A Rainbow meal plan, there seems to be absolutely no issue getting fresh produce right now so I’m making sure the boys are eating their usual mammoth amounts of fruits and vegetables, and, of course, I’m having my daily green smoothies.

 

Cue the choir of angels: look at that avocado. My mom gave me that cutting board for Christmas after my son destroyed one of mine crushing candy canes.

Green Smoothies

This deserves its own heading. I have said countless times before that I swear by green smoothies for health and energy. I have one every day; my favourite is this one, but if you don’t want to click the link it is a cup of almond milk, two tablespoons almond butter, a frozen banana, a whole lot of cinnamon, and like 8 cups of spinach.

Hydrate

The green smoothie is hydrating, but so is water. Whenever I say I drink 4-5 litres of water daily, the question that always arises is “Don’t you pee a lot?” I mean, I guess? I don’t really monitor how much other people pee, but I would guess I probably do pee more than normal. I have a pretty water bottle that makes me happy every time I fill it, and if you think that sound frivolous, have you met me? I’m all about frivolous. On that note:

Make Yourself Feel Pretty

If there is nowhere to go and nobody to see, it’s pretty easy to slump into a series of Pajama Days. If that’s your jam, great! But for me, that is very bad for my mental health. So, every day I shower, put on a nice outfit. I put on makeup, do my hair, and wear my jewelry. I have been having a series of great hair days lately; isn’t that always the way? Great hair days and no one to share them with. Well, I’m sharing them with you now!

For God’s Sake, Step Away From The Internet

Yes, it’s important to be informed and yes, things change on the hour. However, constantly refreshing your feed is NOT the best idea if you want to stay sane. Or maybe it is, maybe that’s how you feel in control; for me, I have to step away. I mean, unless I want to see people fighting on my facebook page about whether or not the virus can survive in a warm climate, or the usual Internet Divided which happens for literally everything – EVERYTHING – but just feels gross now, the teams divided into We Are All Going To Die versus We Are All Overblowing Everything. As usual, there is no middle ground, and so it’s really better to Stay Off The Internet. Or just check in once or twice a day. The news is not going to be good no matter how you slice it, so just check in with what you need and get on with your day.

The exception? Cute photos. Look at this guy!

I’m also reading a lot – the library is closed but luckily I have tons of books that I love and am going to re-read. My mom gave me The Testaments for Christmas, which I haven’t read yet. I am not sure I can read something of a dystopian nature right now, but soon. In the meantime I will be sharing my reading list with you.

Please note that these are things that make ME feel better. Maybe they will resonate with you, maybe they won’t. Just stay safe, stay healthy, and remember that yes, there will be a time after this. It’s not forever. xoxo

It’s tiny cauliflower season

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The day after – literally, the VERY NEXT DAY – I posted about misreading Gental Fitness as Genital Fitness, the sign was changed. I was driving my son to school and exclaimed that the sign now read Gentle Fitness, to which he expressed relief that I would no longer be alluding to elderly men doing something mysterious to strengthen their genitals. Are the people at the fitness centre reading my blog? Or did someone show up at the fitness centre hoping to alleviate incontinence, only to be introduced to aquasize and low-impact aerobics? We may never know the answer.

Oh, you guys, it is SO COLD around here; dropping the kids off at school, my car reads minus 30, and that is without windchill. “It feels like minus 39!” the weather person on the radio said. This should never be a surprise in January, and it isn’t, not really, but it’s quite dreadful. I always think I should re-read The Long Winter at this point in our own winter journey because it SHOULD make me more grateful and thankful to be living in the modern age. I mean, what do I have to complain about, really? That it’s difficult to walk the dog? I have a beautiful, warm, cozy home, I have many warm items of clothing, I have a garage so my car doesn’t freeze. I’m not snowed into some isolated town waiting for the trains to come in with food and supplies and – spoiler alert – those trains never arrive. Sure, my hands hurt, but am I sitting in my dark lean-to in below-freezing temperatures trying to frantically twist hay into little sticks just so I don’t literally freeze to death? Am I grinding seed wheat in an old coffee grinder in the hopes that I will stave off starvation, literal starvation? Am I spiraling into madness because I have been stuck in a tiny dark house for months with nothing to listen to but the howling wind outside? No I am not. My biggest issue is that there was no cauliflower at Superstore.

It’s tiny crappy expensive cauliflower season, which isn’t my favourite but which illuminates something about myself and that is that I cannot – or will not – go without cauliflower for a week. There’s a limit to how much I will pay, because there is always a limit, it is not infinite, but I am willing to pay some pretty high prices for pretty tiny cauliflowers. My demand curve is, shall we say, price inelastic. Am I an addict? Do I have a problem? Probably. There are worse things to spend money on, in my humble opinion.

It is exam time at the high school, and so after one full week back at school my older son now has three weeks off. Well, he has a couple of exams to write in that time period, but really. Three weeks! He doesn’t go back to class until February 3, making my younger son insane with envy. He will get to experience this excessive time off next year, as Thursday is his high school orientation day. Two kids in high school! The children, they get older. I’m getting older too. 

Speaking of getting older, ladies, lean in. The perimenopause thing? A couple of years ago I asked my mom when she stopped getting periods, as that is the number one indicator as to when it would stop for me. When she replied I couldn’t believe my ears – it indicated another full decade of these ridiculous symptoms. Well, what can you do. The symptom I am finding the most difficult to deal with is breast swelling and tenderness. 

“Tenderness.” That seems like a bit of an understatement. It used to be a day before my period my breasts would be slightly sore. Now it’s a week to ten days of my entire chest hurting and my breasts swelling to my pre-kid glory. Even if I do manage to fulfill my New Year’s Resolution of buying a new bra, I’m going to have to hang on to these old ones just for premenstrual comfort. It’s silly, really, my cleavage goes from “bra is gaping around my deflated breasts” to “spilling out of my bra like an old-timey centrefold.” The other day my husband’s eyes bugged out when he walked in on me getting dressed; it probably gave him flashbacks to when we first met.

I for one do not want to relive my Glory Days, the sheer relief I feel when I actually get my period and my yoga tanks go back to fitting properly and I don’t feel like my sports bras are actively trying to kill me softly with their song is immense.

This too shall pass; there will be a time after this.

I had my hair appointment on Friday so once again I feel relatively youthful, at least for another few weeks until the roots start coming in. Life is a roller coaster, I swear. I had a roller coaster emotion as I gazed into my Daylight 10x Magnifying Mirror, and noticed that one of those black chin hairs has turned…white. You know those chin hairs, the ones that are nonexistent in the morning but somehow are an inch long by evening. I’m mixed on this development because a white chin hair is infinitely less noticeable than a black one, and yet. I have also noticed white hairs in my eyebrows, which, I do not know what to do about it. If I start plucking them out will I eventually be bald above my eyes? Do I start using an eyebrow pencil? I just don’t know.

Anyway. It is going to be an odd few weeks; my schedule is exactly the same, or a bit busier as I’ve scheduled some appointments for my older son in during this time. One child at school, one child at home save for the three exams…as I write this I am listening to some amped-up electric guitar as someone is taking a study break. Everything feels a bit unsettled. This week has been too cold to even walk the dog; poor puppers hasn’t had any exercise since Saturday. Since I’m having my ladies’ holidays, AND it’s insanely cold, I’m doing restorative yoga in the early mornings instead of going into the studio. This would be lovely except that I keep forgetting to leave the dog in his crate until after I’m done, which means that he thinks I’m dead or injured, and need to be roused.

With the cold, I wondered how I was going to get my steps in, on non-exercise days. Yes I am a slave to my Garmin watch, what of it? Monday I had to run an errand – at the mall – and noted all the elderly and also moms with strollers, desperate to get out of the house. Hmmm…they are on to something. Yes, I lapped the mall a couple of times before making my purchase, which feels like it goes nicely with the white chin hair. Hey, it was an extra 5000 steps, that was worth it.

He just doesn’t know his own strength

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The past few days have seen me unusually irritated and agitated about things that would not normally irritate or agitate me. I’ve been having feelings of being completely overwhelmed, and no amount of list-making has assuaged those feelings. Is it this time of year? Have I over-extended myself? Am I having a breakdown? All of those questions and more were answered when my phone buzzed with a notification that it is Almost That Time Of The Month Again! Oh! Well. I’m glad my phone knows what’s what.

Honestly, I feel like everything would be at a normal level of busyness, but for all the little things that keep popping up. Call vet to refill Barkley’s eye drops. Figure out when I can get the boys in for their dental checkups at the new, non-pediatric-but-still-convenient dentist. Take Barkley to the groomer. Reschedule last week’s wax appointment. Make an appointment with our (very hot, I’m serious, this guy is a looker) plumber to come and look at our thermostat, since the furnace is coming on but not always to the right temperature.

This last one almost broke me. Who wants to find a free afternoon to wait at home for someone to come and look at the thermostat? Well, as I said, at least he’s nice to look at, and besides, I can get a start on my gingerbread men.

My email just popped up with an article entitled Why You’re Eating The Wrong Cinnamon and I am NOT clicking on that.

Even without the furnace/ dog/ dental scheduling, the last week has been a whirlwind of activity and treat-making and teaching and just generally scurrying around. I’ve been packaging up treats for my students and playing tetris with my downstairs fridge:

Me: it will be fine once I roast the cauliflower, there will be room in the fridge.

Oops.

I spent much of Sunday making gingersnaps:

More decorative tins!

I had left the candy canes for my younger son to crush, in order for me to make peppermint bark. I wanted to have the candy cane crushing completed by Monday, so I could package them up in little bags for a different group of students. My son got out the rubber mallet and the cutting board, and asked me just how crushed I wanted them to be. Chunks? Little pieces? Decimate them! I said to him in my Fun Mom voice.

One thing you should know about my younger son is that he Follows Directions. Remember in Game of Thrones when Sam cures Jorah of greyscale, and when asked about it he said that he read the instructions in some ancient manuscript and then followed those instructions? If only more people could be like that. It is my regret that Sam was not Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, because with that attitude, he should have been. Anyway, that is my son to a tee. He is the king of step-by-step directions, and you never have to tell him something twice. I probably should have kept this in mind when I told him I wanted the candy canes decimated.

He presented me with three bags of candy cane POWDER. Quite honestly that works really well in bark, as there are fewer tooth-chipping hunks of peppermint candy. There are a few small chunks in there too, as I had also said “a few small pieces would be nice.” As you can see:

But mostly, it’s powder.

In addition to decimating the candy canes, he also decimated my cutting board. It cracked into thirds. I can’t be mad about it, though, because he was just following directions. He is much less remorseful about the loss of my cutting board than he is impressed with his own sheer brute strength. Well, he does work out a lot, and YET I feel that perhaps a little less vigor would have yielded similar, but non-cutting-board-destroying results. I agreed with him that, Hulk-like, he just doesn’t know his own strength, while duct-taping together the cutting board for use next year. No sense breaking another cutting board next Christmas.

I went to Canadian Tire to buy a new one, and for those of you who are not Canadian, CT is one of our big national brands. Not only does it sell tires and other automobile-related things, but it also has a garden centre, household items, paint, kitchenware, and sporting goods, as well as all things Christmas-related. It is one of those stores that I love – because it frequently has incredibly good sales – and also hate, because the store itself is often a disorganized jumble. I ended up with a cutting board that was on sale for half-price, which I didn’t know until I went to pay, and if I HAD known, I probably would have bought two. Not that I’m complaining.

Before my CT trip, I put gas in the car and, due to my inability to see out the back window, washed it. There was no snow in the forecast, I swear, I checked my weather app twice, but not 30 minutes after washing the car, the snow started to fall and continued for the entire day. Did I curse the city? Possibly. The entire day, I kept looking at my weather app, which said “cloudy” but at no time did it call for snow, even when the snow was coming down. My Monday afternoon students, after I related this story, thought that perhaps the rest of the city was completely dry and that a snow cloud was just following me around, like a character in Winnie the Pooh. The long and short of it is that I had a clean car for about 30 minutes, and now I can’t see out the back window again.

Well, it’s only two weeks until Christmas, but my dear, dear, dear friend and neighbour (HI TARYN) surprised me with this beautiful gift:

Isn’t it gorgeous? I love it so much.

I hope you are all having a wonderful week; it can be stressful this time of year (THE FURNACE) but hopefully you are experiencing some joys and beauty of the season. xo

Paparazzi

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Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be a celebrity, photographed by the paparazzi at the most inopportune times? I imagine it would feel like running into an ex for the first time in decades when you have dirty hair and no makeup and you just needed to get one ingredient from the grocery store, but times a thousand. I’m not pitying the famous, not really, because I’m sure the piles of money would help the pain go away, but still it would be very weird to be photographed constantly, with people speculating pregnancies when really you just had a big lunch. Imagine going out for groceries, and then later seeing a photo of yourself with a headline about how you’ve let yourself go, or speculation that you have a terminal illness or drug problem, when really, you were just tired.

As is the usual order of business in September, a cold virus has visited our house. It’s just an irritant, certainly not debilitating, but yesterday I came down with it and felt plagued by general malaise and total exhaustion. Luckily for me I had no classes to teach; I did, however, have to get groceries and that in itself felt like I had accidentally entered myself into the Ironman competition. It didn’t help that Superstore is currently rearranging things in the cosmetics and skin care section; I stood staring at the four aisles filled entirely with tissue boxes and – oddly – cotton balls, wondering what happened to the liquid soap. I was probably frozen in space for a good three minutes before a woman wheeled her cart up next to me and stared around her. It’s good to have a companion in this kind of thing. Where do you think the deodorant is? she asked me, snapping me out of my Where am I what happened reverie. Eventually we both came to our senses and started to slowly mill around, finding deodorant in with the shampoo and liquid soap with the toothpaste.

If I had to teach yesterday, I think it would have been entirely one long savasana. I briefly wondered if it wasn’t so much LUCKY to be sick on a day with no classes, but rather my body letting down its guard. I’m a big believer in yin and yang, and when you’ve had a lot of yang, your body craves yin. In other words, adrenaline can keep you going when you need to, but then your body revolts and makes sure you get the rest that you need, after a busy period. It’s why, I think, I always would get sick right after final exams in university, or after any kind of period when I burned the candle at both ends.

Fortunately today I am almost back to my Energizer Bunny self; two nights of ten hour sleeps and a totally unexpected afternoon nap will do that. I say totally unexpected because I sat down to rest after bringing in all the groceries and woke up an hour later. I am not totally back to normal, but neither do I feel like crying at the prospect of folding a basket of laundry.

Circling back to my original point: yesterday I found myself too tired to get dressed before taking the boys to school, so I left the house in my pajamas. I know many people will be like what is the big deal, I do that every day, to which I say I do not. As much as I love my pajamas, leaving the house in soft grey pants that have pictures of mice on them is not something I want to do. I mean, I rarely leave the house without lipstick on, let alone unshowered and undressed. As a slight digression, I posted a photo of myself and my younger son, a few months ago, when he surpassed me in height. One of my friends immediately commented “You’re not wearing lipstick!” which shows that, other than the 5:00 am yoga crew, no one really sees me without My Face On. For someone who put makeup on before going to the hospital to give birth, leaving the house in pajamas is a non-starter. Honestly, how hard is it to put on pants? Well, yesterday that felt like a bridge too far, and I briefly thanked the powers that be that I have never achieved celebrity and so there were no paparazzi hiding out behind the garage to photograph me with circles under my eyes, unwashed hair, and pajama pants. Drug problems? Sources close to Nicole say yes. 

I often feel like walking with Barkley is like walking with a celebrity because it is rare that I go unnoticed. Or, rather, it’s rare that HE goes unnoticed. This is what it’s come down to: if I only have twenty to thirty minutes for a walk, like I have to quickly zip one in between classes, I try to take quiet sidewalks in the neighbourhood that have little foot traffic. I am a person who at the very least nods and smiles when passing people on the sidewalk, and frequently that means I get into extensive conversations with strangers about what breed he is, how old he is, and how he is a very, very good dog. Sometimes these conversations turn to the heartbreaking, like the many lonely seniors I encounter who pet Barkley and talk about how very much they miss their old canine companions, and then I can never break off the conversation because it’s just too wrenching to pull away. Often, though, I will run into a group of kids and then things get wild. The other day I walked by a school group apparently walking back after swimming lessons at the local pool, and of maybe sixty kids, at least fifty-five of them squealed and waved at me. “Hi! Hi! Hi! Your dog is so cute! Hi! Hi! I like your dog!” ad infinitum. My very favourite are teenage girls, as they often unintentionally turn into the little girls from Despicable Me, “Oh my godddddd your dog look at your dog he’s so flufffffffyyyyyy! Oh my goddddddddd!”

Not that I am one to talk. Today Barkley and I were out walking, and he tried to chase and capture a leaf blowing on the sidewalk. “Oh Barkley!” I squealed, “You’re such a Silly Billy! That’s just a leaf! Yes it is! You’re a good doggy! It’s a leaf!” At that moment, I looked up and saw a man standing in his driveway, holding a rake and a compost bag, with the kind of look on his face you might imagine someone to have after witnessing a mid-forties woman talking in a high-pitched baby voice to her dog about chasing a leaf.

Speaking of leaves, I am enjoying the fall colours very much right now. I think that if I lived in a place that had three months of sunny, crisp days with warm-coloured leaves and – while I’m fantasizing – actual non-crab-apple trees, I would be one of those women who embrace fall with open arms. As it is, it’s supposed to snow tomorrow, so we can bid these colours adieu for now, and look out the snow shovels and toques. Happy Fall, everyone! xo

 

Festively Limping To The Finish Line

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

Deep thoughts from teen movies of the Eighties.

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

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

WHAT.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1998 was twenty years ago

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Yesterday I heard Total Eclipse of the Heart twice: once on the way home from yoga, and once during dinnertime. It reminded me of one of the greatest movie scenes ever; the wedding dance from Old School. I cannot hear that song without mentally substituting the lyrics. I also heard 1999 twice yesterday, but that did not fill me with the same level of joy. Here’s my controversial confession: I do not really enjoy the music of Prince. I don’t NOT enjoy it; I certainly would sing along if When Doves Cry came on the radio, but I do not seek it out.

Another controversial confession: I really, really dislike the music of Tom Petty. And for my money, Beast of Burden is not only the best Rolling Stones song ever written, but I don’t even think there is a close second.

Well, I did not set out today to write about the music of late performers and defunct bands; moving on.

The main music – and I use that word very loosely – I have been treated to lately is that of screaming magpies. Magpies have, evidently, made a nest nearby and every single time I leave my house they are swooping around me, screaming loudly. Barkley seems to be equally targeted, never mind that in a million years he could not reach a nest that is ostensibly thirty feet off the ground. A part of me thinks aw, they are just trying to protect their babies, but after several days of low-flying aggressive magpie action, my thoughts turn to goddammit, no one WANTS your horrible babies, go away. I saw a pair of magpies aggressively chasing away squirrels, though, so there is an upside to this. At least the magpies, as irritating as they may be, are not in the market to eat my bulbs or dig up my flowers.

By the way, my tulips never did bloom, not a single one. They all just lay there in their weirdly flattened foliage, sadly sinking back into the earth from whence they came.

This morning I learned that Sex and the City debuted twenty years ago this year, TWENTY YEARS, PEOPLE. Remember when women would identify with the main characters, as in “You’re such a Charlotte.” Well. Time passages and and all that. A Sex and the City episode was the catalyst for the worst fight my husband and I ever had in our entire relationship, to this day I cannot think about “Your girl is lovely, Hubble,” without thinking of my fury in our tiny apartment on the 30th floor, without being able to even slam a door. At the time it was intense, but now, nearly twenty years later, it seems very lame, that we had a fight about Carrie and Mr. Big.

Nowadays, the only source of marital tension is my One Year Shopping Challenge, which my husband hates with a passion. Just go buy yourself some damn clothes! he has said on numerous occasions. A few weeks ago I was having coffee with a friend (HI TWYLA) and she complimented me on my raincoat, a plaid Lululemon that I bought when the kids were in preschool. Thanks, it’s really old, I said and she shook her head. Are we still doing that, then? The no-buying thing? she asked with sympathy. Yes we are. Less than eight weeks to go and my god, I simultaneously cannot believe I have done it and also I cannot wait for it to be done.

One thing about this challenge is that I have been able to identify some true needs in my wardrobe. Well, “needs” might be a strong word; as my mom always says, I’m not sure the word NEED comes into play here. Wants, then. For starters, on my trip to Mexico I noted that several of my trusty old bikinis no longer fit properly, as in, if I dive too quickly into the water there is going to be an accidental skinny dipping situation. I do still have a couple that can get me through until August 1, so things aren’t really desperate. Still. A new bikini or two would be nice.

I’m also noting that a few of my yoga clothes, while still in good shape, are beginning to look pretty faded and worn, which isn’t too surprising since most of my pieces are over five years old and have withstood a lot of wear and laundering. Some of my tanks and pants are a decade old, some even older. So really, I think I can probably treat myself to a few new pieces. I do find myself in yoga clothes daily, often two different outfits a day, one for practicing in and one for teaching.

Other than that, I’m not too tempted to shop these days, since I do not enjoy the current styles. I already wore them, back in the 90s. Overalls, high waisted pants, crop tops, bodysuits, and ONE PIECE JUMPSUITS. Think about using a public washroom while wearing a jumpsuit, just think about it for a moment. I’ve done all of those styles, and I’m not interested in doing them again, particularly the jumpsuits. Well, and the rest of them. I shall leave the youth styles to the youth and continue to live in my yoga clothes topped with flowy sweaters, like the future Golden Girl that I am. All I need are brightly coloured necklace-and-earring sets and some florals and I’ll be ready to go.

Speaking of colours, I seem to be so desperate to end this shopping challenge that when my husband pointed out some bright orange Lululemon crops to me, I actually thought those look nice. I have never worn such a colour in my entire life and I most likely never will, due to my fear that it would match my hair too closely, but it is illustrative of my desperation.

Also? Speaking of Golden Girls…remember slips? Do women still wear slips? I remember being made to wear slips, particularly to church, back in my childhood. Slips, as I remember, were a guard against a) clinging dresses, b) anything even marginally transparent, and c) immodesty in general. It seems to me that they would be very outmoded now, but I’m curious – does anyone still wear them, or did they go the way of the housedress? When I think of slips, I think of my beloved late grandma, who would also encourage wearing a pin or brooch at one’s neckline to ensure that one was not showing too much of the chest region. I wonder what she would think of my work wear.

Well, it’s January

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brrrr!

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

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

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

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

Where is this song from?

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

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

I wonder if anyone here watches Game of Thrones. 

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