Working Girl

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Working as a yoga teacher can be a very gratifying and uplifting job; this past week I started two new sessions and for the first time in a long time, the number of students registered had increased significantly, with many brand-new students alongside my solid group of loyalists who have been with me for years. Without exception, each of the new students told me that this was their first group exercise since before Covid, and that they were both excited and nervous, as the pandemic had really taken a toll on their physical health. This confirms my unscientific belief that there is a bimodal distribution, or perhaps a U-shaped curve, with age on the x-axis, and The Toll The Pandemic Has Taken on the y-axis; it seems to me that isolation, closures, and other mitigation strategies have been the hardest on seniors and the youth, with many of said youth’s development phases being delayed or skipped over entirely.

Speaking of that, my younger son is in Exam Mode right now, and is Very Stressed about it. This is the first time ever – EVER – that he has had to take exams that are meaningful in any way; all throughout the pandemic final exams were “non-jeopardy,” meaning that they could potentially increase one’s grade, but they would simply be excluded if the exam mark was less than the overall class mark. He has never written a high school exam that “counted,” and his first one, last week, was the English Part A Written, which is kind of a bitch at the best of times, let alone for a kid whose strength is not in English, and also who has NEVER WRITTEN A MEANINGFUL EXAM. Baptism by fire, I suppose.

Circling back to my yoga classes, after a month break I was happy to be back. If someone had told me twenty-five years ago that I would not only be a yoga teacher, but one who specializes in yoga for older people, I would have looked like Shrek when he finishes watching Welcome to Duloc. I have enjoyed exercise all my adult life, and I have always connected well with older people, but never really thought I would be here. I have my master’s in economics and back then I briefly considered writing my thesis on how expenditures on movement and exercise could benefit seniors into their golden years, and how such expenditures could increase physical mobility and mental well-being, and thus help prevent premature entry into long-term care facilities. A cost-benefit analysis, if you will. I suppose you could say I’m living that thesis topic. My actual thesis was about alcohol use and its effects on earnings, causation and correlation, and it is also a bimodal distribution, if you’re interested. I will never forget my thesis supervisor and I talking about correlation, causation, and how sometimes statistics move together and thus all such studies are completely meaningless. There’s nothing like grad school to crush one’s spirit and will to live.

I did have a few Ask Me Anything questions about my wayward youth, or, more specifically, my pre-mom career. Sarah (HI SARAH) asked I’m curious about your past career and why you decided to leave. What did you do? Did you become a stay-at-home mom? while Lisa (HI LISA) asked What do you miss most from your previous career and what do you miss the least?

Back in my fiery youth I was fairly intense about my career; after grad school I went to work in natural gas trading, after a brief stint in the crude oil marketing industry. I worked on a trade floor and I loved it; I loved the energy and the work itself, which was being a quantitative analyst for the structured products and options desk. I also cried in the ladies’ room at least once a week. It was extremely stressful and the hours were long; I worked ten to twelve hour days most days, and at the end of each month I would frequently be in the office from 6:30 am to 9:00 pm. In addition to her question, Lisa asked about the trade floor culture, suggesting that Canadian traders were perhaps “nicer” than American ones, and I can tell you, after many visits to our Houston office, that this is not the case. They are the same, in that there was constant swearing and screaming, sometimes directed at me, sometimes not, but distressing all the same. If a pricing model wasn’t working, for whatever reason, I had to fix it immediately while our traders were losing their minds. If natural gas prices settled differently from what they thought they would, there would be much consternation and agitation, often directed at me, although I was not personally responsible for the North American natural gas industry and its pricing procedures.

I believe I have related this story before, but there was a marketer on our floor who, after a phone call that resulted in something he was unhappy with, repeatedly smashed his phone on his desk until it shattered. This was back in the day when receivers were attached via cord to the actual phone on each desk, and forever after when that marketer would walk through the trade floor, every single person would cover their phone protectively with their hands. Don’t touch my phone, man, I need it, someone would say Every Single Day. I think that fellow was required to go to an anger management course, but it generally became the hilarious joke on the floor that never got old. Here comes Tom! Hide your phones! Hilarity ensues.

For some reason – and who can say, really – I developed extremely high blood pressure while pregnant. These days at the doctor’s office, my blood pressure is so low that the nurse always looks at me, alarmed, and asks if I feel faint. But then, I was working a ton and also eating a ton, and so I ended up on bedrest with preeclampsia. Maternity leaves are a year long in Canada, and by the time I was due to go back to work I was already three months pregnant with my second baby, and so back to work I did not go. I could have, and I could have collected another year of benefits from six months of work, but honestly, I did not see how I could possibly swing the hours and the stress with a one-year-old and another pregnancy to boot.

So I don’t miss that part of my previous career, which is pretty much 180 degrees from my current “career,” in which, among other things, I guide people to “let go of their tension.” I will tell you, though, that when I was at home with a one-year-old and a colicky newborn, I thought of my stressful, crying-in-the-bathroom, possibly-going-to-have-a-stroke-while-pregnant job with longing. It seemed like the height of luxury to leave the house, eat lunch on an expense account – albeit at my desk amongst screaming, but it wouldn’t be infant-or-toddler screaming – all while wearing beautiful clothes. Wow, did I long for my clothes while at home in spit-up covered sweaters and jeans. High heels! Pantyhose! Chanel Number 5 perfume! This is one of those Grass Is Always Greener scenarios, and I do not at all miss such things today. I once again wear beautiful – although, not office-appropriate – clothes, and no one spits up on me or screams at me in any capacity. I can leave the house anytime I want; Rex does look at me with reproach when I do, but he is easily appeased with a treat. So even the fun things about the job, I don’t miss anymore, almost nineteen years after leaving. I do, however, miss the paycheque.

Weekly Reading

Happy Go Lucky. We all know how much I love David Sedaris, and I did love this book of essays. However, it has a very different tone than most of his books; there were some parts that I laughed out loud, but for the most part, this is very dark. If you have read anything by him, you could have probably gleaned that he did not have a great relationship with his father, particularly in his childhood and formative years. But this book, which deals primarily with his father’s demise and death at age 98, really delves into that relationship and it is quite shocking. It doesn’t take a clairvoyant to figure out that a man of a certain era might have had a problem with his son being gay, but this is something else again. Again: I really did love this book but it is very, very dark. There are also quite a few essays dealing with the pandemic, and the aftermath of lockdown, which I found interesting to read.

Our Missing Hearts. I love Celeste Ng’s writing and I was so excited that she had a new book, after many years of no new books. Her writing is gorgeous and compelling, as always, but this book is quite different from her others: it is what I would call dystopian-adjacent. I do not, as a rule, enjoy dystopian books BUT this is different; I call it “adjacent” because it kind of felt like the world that she created, one in which children are separated from their parents for the greater good and national security, one in which people look with suspicion at people who don’t look like them, one in which people toe the line and report on their neighbours, well, that world feels like it exists. All we have to do is remember residential schools, children separated at the US border, and the foster care system in general. In this book, in order to get to a place of “peace and stability,” the government created a common enemy, and that enemy is China. Again, this didn’t feel far from the mark; let’s remember Soviet-era fears of communism, the House Un-American Activities, etc., not to mention internment camps for Japanese people. In the author’s note, she mentioned the rise of anti-Asian sentiment at the beginning of the pandemic, and while that is not something I, a privileged suburban white woman, personally experienced, I believe it. After all, I remember very clearly the post-9/11 days and the massive anti-Muslim sentiment. I remember there being a backlash against such things as Afghan dogs or Afghan BLANKETS. I remember the anger at France for not jumping on the bandwagon. Remember “Freedom fries?” So while this world in Our Missing Hearts was a created one, it did not feel all that fictional. It was a great read and very thought-provoking as well.

We have been having the most gorgeous January around here! It looks like it’s shaping up to be another beautiful week. Have a wonderful week, friends! I hope you enjoyed my trip down memory lane to the trade floor! xo

Let’s Book It!

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Happy Monday everyone! I hope you all had a restful weekend. It’s back the grind this week – I am back to teaching today, my son is back at school for three whole days before exam break begins, my husband is in the office and my other son is back to work. Rex is looking at a busy week of destroying his “indestructible” monkey.

Let’s talk books!

In my Ask Me Anything, many questions centered around reading; I discussed my favourite books and authors last Friday, and today I will tackle all the other questions.

Chrisoula (HI CHRISOULA) asked: How do you read so much? Are you a fast reader? Do you set time aside every day for reading? I generally read two to three books a week; last year I read 155 books, as compared to 156 in 2021, so my numbers are pretty consistent. I have always been a pretty fast reader, although some books are made to really savor, with dense writing and descriptions. Truthfully, I don’t remember I time when I didn’t read; according to my mom, I was parroting the words to all my picture books at age two, and by three was reading new books from the library without help. So I guess all those years of practice have resulted in a fairly fast reading pace. I try to carve out specific reading time every single day, and feel quite unsettled if that doesn’t happen. There is a wonderful podcast I listen to, called Forever 35, and the first question that the hosts always ask their guests is tell us about your self-care practices. Every time I listen I think what if I was that guest, what would I say? There are really so many little rituals that I have in my day that I would characterize as Self-Care, and one of the most important ones is reading. I keep a book in my bag when I am going to appointments, and I usually read at little moments throughout the day as well – fifteen minutes here, ten minutes there. There is usually an hour or two in the evening when my husband is watching sports or a television show, that I will sit companionably with him and read.

Stephany (HI STEPHANY) asked: What’s one book that everyone loves but you hated? Wooooo, that is an interesting and divisive question! My immediate reaction was Educated. For a while there, everyone and their dog was recommending it; I read it when it first came out and I had such a visceral negative reaction to it, even worse than when I read The Glass Castle. Listen, I am happy the author made it through her absolutely horrible life, but I wish I didn’t know the details. I really hate memoirs that focus on what is essentially child abuse, especially when such abuse is described in excruciating detail, while at the same time being pleased that the memoirist came out the other side. Interestingly, my son recently read it for his English class, and he did not have the same reaction as me; he enjoyed it very much, inasmuch as you can enjoy a book about incredibly adverse childhood experiences. On a less-passionate note, there are many authors who are very popular and well-loved, and that just don’t resonate with me: Kristin Hannah and Jody Picoult come to mind, and I am sorry to say it because I know these books are beloved, but I also did not like The Alice Network or Where The Crawdads Sing. I very much dislike science fiction and dystopia, but I know this about myself and I never read those genres. In fact, I had talked to my friend Nicole (HI NICOLE) about Station Eleven, a book that she loved and that is generally much-admired and considered to be excellent. I asked her if I should read it and she emphatically said NO. Isn’t it great to have friends who know your taste?

Speaking of taste, Engie (HI ENGIE) had a number of questions about my reading preferences, TBR lists, and recommendations. She asked: What books do you frequently recommend? This is a really interesting question, because unless I know someone’s specific reading style, I do not recommend fiction to them. There are a couple of people, like my reading twin Anna (HI ANNA) who I know enjoy the same things that I do, and for those people I do recommend certain books. But across the board, I am careful to say that I loved a book, without a recommendation. It’s so personal, isn’t it, what resonates with a reader? The books I love often are fairly plot-less, and more character-driven, and sometimes literally nothing happens. People who love a thick plot are often disappointed with my favourite books. I mean, do not read Diary of a Provincial Lady if you are looking for heart-pounding action.

There is, however, one book that I do recommend across the board, and that is Your Body, Your Best Friend. I don’t think there is a woman alive who would not be uplifted by this book about healing your relationship with your body, your appearance, and society. I read this book in August of 2020, and it was honestly life-changing and healing for me. I also like to recommend Wake Up To The Joy Of You, a weekly meditation book about creating a life filled with peace, joy, and meaning.

As a follow-up to this, Engie asked: What book do you recommend to someone in a reading rut? If that rut means that someone is in a “nothing appeals” slump, then honestly, I would recommend a return to an old favourite, whatever that may be. If a person needs something joyful and fun, I would recommend the whole Rosie series by Graeme Simsion; it is the only series I can think of that gets better with subsequent books. Mostly, if someone is in a rut or a slump, I think a book of essays or something short is always a good idea, just to get momentum going; I really enjoyed These Precious Days and Bomb Shelter, for example. For something fresh and unique: The Housekeeper and the Professor is very original, as is all of Katherine Heiny’s writing.

Engie also asked: What book has been on your TBR the longest? What book do you think you “should” read, but probably never will? I just went to look at my “For Later” shelves and was very surprised to see that the very last book on there was added on 2018, and was The End Of Your Life Book Club. I don’t remember adding it. I actually thought it would be something from Christiane Northrup, as I had added a bunch of her books after reading, and loving, Women’s Bodies, Women’s Wisdom back in 2018. Before you all start messaging me: I know. I know! She has been extremely problematic during the pandemic, and frequently touts pseudo-science. However, I do have The Wisdom of Menopause on my shelf and I will read it (yes, I have read The Menopause Manifesto, it’s excellent and my go-to resource) because I am confident I can separate the wheat from the chaff, so to speak. As for what book I “should” read but won’t: there are a lot on the list but what comes to mind immediately is War and Peace. I am DONE with male writers of that era, DONE. I have no interest, and also, I am sick to death of supporting male writers who were allowed to live their truth while the women around them slaved to maintain those men’s physical and logistical needs, with no credit whatsoever. I am looking RIGHT at you, Thoreau.

On that note, Engie asked: If a librarian had to describe your library habits in three words, what would those words be? I was going to say Women Writers Only, but that’s not totally true, there are a handful of male-written books on my TBR and favourites lists. I greatly prefer books that centre around women and their lives, as well. Women Writers Mostly?

The final question for today, and it’s a very sweet one, comes from Michelle (HI MICHELLE). She asked: Have you written a book? Are you writing a book? I love books with funny main characters, and I think you’d do a brilliant job! Well, I am blushing. Thank you Michelle! I have not nor am I currently writing a book, but it is something that I do want to do. I have a number of ideas floating in my mind, but have not yet set pen to paper, nor fingers to keyboard. I will give you one of my favourite quotes from Diary of a Provincial Lady: Overhear one lady in stalls ask another: Why don’t you write a play, dear? Wel, says the friend, it’s so difficult, with one thing and another, to find time. Am staggered. (Query: Could I write a play myself? Could we all write plays, if only we had the time?) I feel this, so much.

Weekly Reading

Let’s move on to what I read this week! As a quick update for those of you who are interested, Gretchen Rubin happened to be on a podcast I follow (How To Be A Better Human) and I think that, based on that pod and The Happiness Project, she is just not for me. I tried!

Tale of the Dreamer’s Son. This was such an original and beautifully written book about a child growing up in a cult in Malaysia, a country I know very little about, but which has a disturbing and fascinating political climate, past and present. The story centres around the children growing up in the cult and their relationships to each other; the timeline jumps from the 70s and 80s to present day, which is a literary device that I very much enjoy. There was just so much to this plot and character, I had to keep flipping back to see the foreshadowing that I didn’t realize was foreshadowing. The story is very compelling and I look forward to reading more by this talented author. Many thanks to Maya (HI MAYA) for the recommendation!

Eat To Love. Hey, I got a Kobo for Christmas! As I tried to figure out how to borrow library books, I downloaded this one. Did someone recommend it? Did the library algorithm recommend it? I have no idea. I actually wasn’t going to read it, only to use it as a test. I mean, how cliche to read a book about food and eating in January. No thanks! But I looked at a page and was hooked. It’s primarily a book about Buddhist principles and meditation, using them to accept your body and yourself, exactly the way you are right now. I don’t know a woman alive for whom this book wouldn’t resonate with. It’s also a feminist look at the societal pressures we face so much that sometimes, we don’t realize it. So much is ingrained, it’s a journey to untangle. I think this book would be of value to any woman; it put me in mind of (circle back) Your Body, Your Best Friend.

I mean!

Woof, that hits home.

Strangers To Ourselves: Unsettled Minds and the Stories That Make Us. My son gave me this book for Christmas, which was a bit of a bold move, considering I read a lot of books and it’s a bit of a flex to find a book I am interested in but have neither read nor mentioned. It was a good choice; it was an absolutely fascinating look at mental illness and the affect that diagnosis and treatments can have. From 1970s-era mental institutions, to incarceration, to the “prescription cascade,” in which side effects from medications end up being medicated by more medications, this look at how we deal with mental illness is interesting and filled with insight. There are many racial, class, and socioeconomic factors that go into treatments and diagnoses, and it’s quite wrenching. The author speaks from her own experience as the youngest person ever diagnosed with anorexia; she was hospitalized at age six when she suddenly stopped eating. As an adult, she doesn’t think she had anorexia, but learned behaviours from the other girls on the ward, that carried over. It’s fascinating: what is mental illness, what is baseline personality, what role do doctors and pharmacologists play? It explores a lot of grey areas.

It has been a beautifully mild start to January, lots of sunny days and blue skies to start 2023! I hope your week ahead is just as beautiful. xo

Five For Friday: The “Author, Author” Edition

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If there is one thing I love talking about, it’s books. Well, to be honest, I love talking about a lot of things, but the topic of books is Up There, Steve. I was thrilled, and not surprised, to see so many Book-Related Questions in my recent Ask Me Anything; I received so many questions about books and reading that I decided to divide them into two posts. Today, I’m going to talk about My Favourites, because I had many questions related to them. Elisabeth (HI ELISABETH) asked about my top three books of all time, Suzanne (HI SUZANNE) asked about my favourites in general, and Engie and San (HI ENGIE HI SAN) asked about my number one favourite book.

I had a very hard time whittling down the list, so I decided to tell you about my favourite authors, because with only a few exceptions I absolutely love everything they all have written, along with my actual favourite books of theirs. It feels a tiny bit like choosing a favourite child, to be honest, because I love these five authors so very much. As you will see, I have read and re-read all of these books many times, as evidenced by the well-worn covers. I could probably curate my bookshelf to replace these tattered copies with beautiful fresh editions, but these are so loved, I would never.

  • Margaret Atwood. Okay, if I had to pick ONE book, only one, to call my favourite it would be The Blind Assassin. How I love that sweeping epic that spans decades, and that features a fairly unreliable narrator, an affair between a wealthy socialite and a socialist agitator/ pulp fiction novelist in the Depression era, and the themes of jealousy, sisterhood, and trauma. The side story told through the pulp fiction writing is incredible, the juxtaposition of the glittering, but secretly stifling marriage and the seedy backdrop of the affair is jaw-dropping, and don’t even get me started on the description of the clothes. You know I love a good clothing description. The idea that marriage has been traditionally an important economic decision for women is something that has always interested me, and this book really delves into it. Honorarable Mentions: Cat’s Eye for its stark honesty about the frenemy nature of young girls, and the aftermath of emotional bullying, and Moral Disorder for its autobiographical elements. How I love a book that shows an author’s life through storytelling, particularly Atwood’s, which is quite fascinating to me. I’m going to also mention Alias Grace, the book about a real-life woman who was jailed as a Murderess (I love the addition of the -ess) after immigrating to Canada from Ireland and working as a servant, and The Edible Woman for its nuanced story about a woman who gets engaged and instead of feeling consumed with love, just feels consumed. If you enjoy symbolism and English class, that one is for you. All the symbolism, all the time.
  • Alice Munro. I was introduced to Munro in university with Lives of Girls and Women, and it remains my favourite of all her collections. To be honest, I am hard-pressed to think of any of her stories that I don’t like; I think the short story is such a powerful literary vehicle, and very few writers do them well. Munro is unparalleled in this department. Unlike her other collections, the stories in Lives of Girls and Women all follow the same main character as she comes of age in rural Ontario, post-World War II. Honorable Mentions: Too Much Happiness for all of its stories but especially the title one about Sophia Kovalevsky, a Russian mathematician in the nineteenth century; Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Loveship, Marriage for one of the best stories ever written about a one-night stand; Open Secrets, because The Albanian Virgin is one of the most fascinating stories about Stockholm Syndrome I have ever read. I want to list off every collection Munro has ever written, because they are all so great. One note about a specific story: “Before The Change” in The Love of a Good Woman is about a mid-century rural backroom abortion doctor, which seems disturbingly relevant today.
  • Jane Austen. Circling back to the theme of marriage as an economic decision, Austen’s books are rife with this. My favourite of her books is the very dark Sense and Sensibility, because it really illustrates what happened to women of a certain class when they did not have a husband or father to provide for them. Spoiler alert: they lose their home and everything in it, and have to live within very restrictive means. Throw that in with an absolute scoundrel of a man who toys with a young girl in a very inappropriate way, a secret engagement, and near-death from heartbreak, and you have yourself a really excellent, if somewhat depressing, book. Plus, it has one of my favourite Austen lines ever: “If the impertinent remarks of Mrs. Jennings are to be the proof of impropriety in conduct, we are all offending every moment of all our lives.” ALL OFFENDING EVERY MOMENT OF ALL OUR LIVES! I love it. Honorable Mentions: Pride and Prejudice, same theme, when it comes to marriage and economics, but very different outcomes, complete with scandal and a mother who is generally considered to be shrill and tiresome, but who just wants her daughters not to be homeless, is that too much to ask, while her husband sits idly by without a care in the world. I have said it before, and I’ll say it again: everyone wants to be Elizabeth, but I am far too practical for that. I would have been Charlotte Lucas, no question. Also, I would be remiss if I did not mention Emma, the tale of the misguided matchmaker, who I kind of identify with in a number of ways. Very little does vex me! Austen’s writing is so witty and delightful, and I’ve read all her books many times over, never tiring of them.
  • David Sedaris. The only man to make my list of favourites! As we all know, I don’t care for male writers in general; Sedaris is very much the exception. I have to note, though, that I only like Sedaris’ personal essays, as I find his fiction to be quite mean-spirited and over-the-top. That said, his personal essay writing is goal-worthy, for me. If only I could write like that! When I am in my reading chair, laughing until I cry, my husband asks if I’m reading David Sedaris. Of all his collections – and I just got Happy Go Lucky for Christmas, and have yet to read it, so stay tuned for changes – I love Calypso the best. It contains Stepping Out, which is about his relationship to his Fitbit and I AM HERE FOR IT. The whole book makes me laugh until my stomach hurts. Honorable Mentions: Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim, because he makes such ordinary things so extraordinarily funny, and Carnival of Snackery, his diaries from 2003-2020. Although Holidays on Ice isn’t my favourite – too many fiction stories – I cry-laugh reading the Santaland Diaries and Dinah, the Christmas Whore. Sedaris isn’t for everyone but he sure is for me.
  • E.M. Delafield. There is one book I can read over and over, never tiring of it, and that book is Diary of a Provincial Lady. It is such a comfort read for me; I often feel that I could have been the unnamed diarist, had I lived in post-World War I Britain. Her life strangely parallels my own, and Delafield’s ability to make very ordinary situations exquisitely extraordinary is incredible. I have read this book so many times that it is literally falling apart; I could just buy another copy, but I’m also emotionally attached to this one as I bought it at a used bookstore, back in 1999, when I lived with my now-husband-then-boyfriend in a tiny apartment on the 30th floor of downtown Calgary. Feelings! I have them.

Next week I shall tackle all other book-related questions – and some will get a little feisty and divisive, maybe – but for now I will wish you all a wonderful Friday. I have some treats in store for me tonight, including wine and popcorn, favourites to go with thoughts of my favourite books. Have a wonderful weekend, friends. xo

Someone Is Staring At You In “Personal Growth”

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Happy New Year! I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season. Mine was very restful and restorative, which was apparently just what I needed. I like to think of my life as a series of seasons, both Life Seasons – can I sail through the changing ocean tides, can I handle the seasons of my life –and Actual Calendar Seasons. For me, December is the Season of Indulgence and Light, and I enjoy it very much as such. I don’t think twice about the third glass of wine or the lovely dessert or the eight thousand cups of my mom’s delicious snack mix. It is, as Clark says when Audrey is frozen from the waist down, all part of the experience.

I also strongly believe in the concept of Balancing Yin and Yang, specifically that if one does not get enough Yin, or rest, Yin will be forced upon one, usually in the form of illness or injury. To that end, I noticed around December 22 of this year that my body and mind just felt tired. I do not think I have a particularly stressful or busy life, but I believe very strongly in listening to myself, and what I was trying to tell me was that I needed rest. I scaled way back on exercise, only walking Rex each day and nothing more, my yoga practice turned restorative, I slept a little more each day, and I watched movies and read books and worked on a jigsaw puzzle. It took about five days of that for me to start feeling more like myself.

On that note, January is, for me, the Season of Energy. I feel reenergized and ready to take on the New Year, with all its many changes that I am just not ready to talk about – time makes you bolder, children get older, I’m getting older too – and yesterday, I took on the task of taking down the decorations and tree, and deep cleaning the house. This is a highly satisfying job to me. I love having All Things Christmas in the house, but I also love the serene feeling of a perfectly clean – except for the paw prints that are constantly on the floor – house. The house feels so much bigger now, and Rex is no longer wagging cards or decorations across the room, while I scramble to pick them up.

Do you remember, years ago, a social media game where people would post three fictional characters, a mix of which represented their personalities? It’s a very interesting window into the psyche, seeing what people chose. For me, I think my personality can best be described as two parts Sally Allbright, and one part each Monica Geller and Buddy the Elf.

I am a person who, like a toddler or a dog, absolutely thrives on routine and ritual. I have mad organizational skills. I love scheduling my days and being in control of them, and figuring out how to fit in the activities and tasks that any particular day requires. In university and grad school, I would schedule my day down to the minute and I would not deviate from it. These days I’m not quite so particular, but if there is something that needs to be done, I am going to do it.

The flip side of this, of course, is that I can be mentally inflexible and I find sudden changes or schedule alterations or additions to be quite distressing. “I’m too structured! I’m completely closed off!” “But in a good way.” Spontaneity is not my strong point, to say the least, but I’m working on it.

This brings me to an Ask Me Anything question from my lovely, darling friend Suzanne (HI SUZANNE): You seem like you are really good at doing things regularly, if not daily: walking, yoga, reading poems, etc. HOW do you do this? Teach me your ways! Well, I am nothing if not structured! I have always been an early-morning person, and I started getting up early when the boys were very small; at that time I generally slept until one of them woke up, around 6:30 or so, and then the mornings felt very chaotic. Someone was always crying or needed breakfast or a diaper change, and the start of the day had me feeling frazzled. It was then that I started waking up really early to go to the yoga studio and practice for an hour. I needed that time to myself; when I got home the boys were just getting up and I felt much more able to cope with the constant demands that is life with little ones. Nowadays of course I don’t have those same demands, but I find that I feel completely unmoored without my daily practice; like I said, I thrive on routine and ritual, and although I don’t go to a studio anymore, my quiet, dark house is perfect for early morning yoga. Since the pandemic started, I have added reading a poem or reading just before my practice; it’s just ONE, so it doesn’t feel overwhelming, and then I can think about it, or not, if it doesn’t resonate, as I practice.

What I am saying is that all of the things that I do on a daily basis are things that I love and make me feel good, and I know that if I omit them from my day I will regret it later. I love being outside and walking, I love getting active and sweaty, I love yoga. Part of the Never Miss A Day is due to my Sally Allbright/ Monica Geller Overly Structured Personality, but some of it is my Buddy The Elf Do Things That Bring Joy personality.

This brings me to New Year’s Goals and Resolutions: I have none. Or, to be more accurate, I have no NEW goals or resolutions; all of mine are evergreen and ongoing. They are either highly specific daily/ weekly tasks, or incredibly unquantifiable states of being. Although, now that I think about it, I might vow to bake more cakes in 2023. I love cake.

Ooooh, maybe I’ll start a Julie and Julia-style blog series, but name it Julie and Nicole, and just bake every cake in this delightful little book. Stay tuned!

Reading: The Year-Long Books

The Daily Stoic. This is one of those daily readings I spoke about; in addition to a poem a day I read one page of this every day in 2022 and honestly, I cannot recommend it. It was absolutely perfect for me back in January, when things were so bleak and grim, because it’s all about controlling your own mind when the world is spiraling out of control. The world was indeed spiraling out of control and these daily readings reminded me that I could change only the things within my own control. It was perfect for that month, and then things went downhill. I found it to be incredibly repetitive and, when I got to December and the monthly theme was Facing Your Own Death, depressing. The entire month was well, we are all going to die, and honestly, who needs that reminder.

Speaking With Spirit. I absolutely loved Agapi’s Wake Up To The Joy In You, and this follow-up book about prayer was good, but not AS good. It was well worth reading – it’s a weekly read – and there was a lot of focus on gratitude and transformation, which I like. It’s important to note that to whom one prays is up to the reader; this is not a specifically-religious book, rather a spiritual one, which I also really like. One can offer a prayer to the universe, if one so chooses.

Should I take this as a sign that I need to deviate from routine?

Weekly Reading

Slouching Towards Bethlehem. This is such an interesting book of essays, mainly based on 1960s California. What a fascinating time and place! More interesting to me, though, was thinking about the nature of these essays, all of which were published in magazines and necessitated many months of on-the-ground research. Long-form journalism is still around but it’s just so dwarfed by our instant 24-hour news cycle. It was fascinating to read these of-the-moment essays and to think of the time put in. Feels a bit dinosaur-like now. The title essay deals with runaway youth in Haight-Ashbury in 1967 and it’s kind of horrifying, to be honest. These kids were so young, living in filth and completely high all the time; some of the older teens had small children, which was incredibly sad. I love Didion’s personal essays and the final one, Goodbye To All That, about her experience as a young woman moving to New York and then returning to California, was my favourite.

Weightless. I heard this woman speaking on a podcast – I think it was Forever 35 – and she was so interesting. This book is comprised of essays, and they are jaw-dropping in their content. Essentially, this woman has heart disease, which was not caused by her weight, but the medical community did not catch it because of her weight. She had weight struggles that started when she was a child; her treatment for severe asthma led to rapid weight gain which led to struggles within the medical community to see past her weight gain. It was the absolute definition of vicious circle. The book itself is tragic and hopeful and also really eye opening. 

The Happiness Project. My friend Elise (HI ELISE) asked if I’d read this, and I had to look at my spreadsheet to ascertain that I hadn’t! I thought I had but no. I have heard so much about Gretchen Rubin, but I haven’t actually read anything by her OR listened to her very popular podcast, so I was going into this completely fresh. So, a few things are all true at the same time: I enjoyed reading this year of monthly resolutions to increase happiness, late December is a great time to read about energizing oneself and vowing to be a better person, and also, about 2/3 of the way through I started to dislike the author. I will tread lightly here, because I know she is beloved by many, and please do remember that this book was written in 2009, and people change a lot in 14 years. I appreciate her honesty about her shortcomings that she wanted to work on, but I have a visceral reaction to people who describe themselves as naturally belligerent and argumentative. And negative. And sarcastic. To be fair, those the things she was working on, but you know what, once I got that visceral feeling I couldn’t un-feel it. Also, I found her tone to be a touch judgy and a bit repetitive. Even still, the book had a good message. None of it felt new or original but I think that’s because it was published so long ago and has influenced dozens of books, pieces, and blogs – which is indicative of its success. Overall, a good read. I am tempted to look into some of her more recent work to see what, if anything, has changed.

So here we are in a fresh new week, month, and year. I have decided to do the Apartment Therapy January Cure, so there will be lots of organizing and decluttering this month; I have a number of posts to write thanks to your Ask Me Anything contributions (and it’s still open, feel free to, indeed, Ask Me Anything!), and, most importantly, I have a big stack of books to get through this week! I hope you all have a fabulous week, this first week of January, and I hope you have resolved to be kind to yourselves first and foremost. xo

Boyhouse Year In Review 2022

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Happy Almost New Year! I hope you have all been having a restful and restorative week! I have been enjoying myself immensely; lots of sleep, puzzles, books, food, and wine. We spent a few days at my parents, which is always fun, and involves games and food and more wine.

As is usual at this time of year, I’ve been reflecting a lot on the year that’s passed and the year that is to come. One of the biggest benefits to having a blog is the ability to look back, and wow, have we come a long way since this time last year. Late December/ early January were an absolute low point; things were dismal. Happily, on our Roller Coaster of Life, things have been more up than down; so let’s take a look at what happened in the Boyhouse in 2022.

January

The New Year started off pretty bleak and grim, with winter break extended and all diploma exams cancelled, and to distract myself from complete despair I talked about my concepts and mantras I try to live by every day, the kids did go back to school and I decided to stop reading the news, I talked about actual quantifiable goals that I work towards every day, I talked about how much I hate filtered photos, how I actually thought about Botox, and how I was unfriended by a high school acquaintance not once but twice, and I had a roller-coaster of a week that included new neighbours, a cancelled trip, a mouse in the house, and a possible hoarding issue with macadamia nut milk. This month’s Favourite Things were of the Hygge variety, appropriately enough.

February

I talked about all the fun physical changes that come in one’s forties, including but not limited to moustaches and chin hair, I had massive gratitude for all the Galentines in my life, I showed you a Week of Winter Outfits (spoiler: lots of sweaters and legwarmers), and I talked about automatic car starters and marital mismatches. I also told you all about the daily choices I make to show myself some love.

March

All Covid restrictions were dropped, and I went to Costco and lost my mind, it was exactly two years since the pandemic started, and we celebrated my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary, two years and one week in, we got Covid, and we eventually recovered enough to celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary with a Banff getaway, and my son turned 18. While we were isolated, I talked about the things that made my recovery happier.

April

I talked about the juxtaposition of my desire to wave at every neighbour and my reluctance to talk to them and hear insensitive comments about Barkley (god, that was hard for me to read), there were many signs of spring in my life, Salvadore came into my life and brought so much gnome-related happiness, we had a massive snowstorm and I scheduled appointments like a boss. It was my birthday and I talked about 47 things I love.

May

I was absolutely exhausted from the neighbour’s construction, our internet went out for seven hours and somehow we all survived, we had a lot of snow and I went to the garden centre, I shared my Week of Spring Outfits, and my son had his high school graduation ceremony, dance, and banquet, none of which I thought would happen, and I am eternally grateful. At that point I stopped my Weekly Covid Count. I also shared with you my makeup routine, and included my 4:00 am bare face.

June

I lived on the edge and planted my tomatoes slightly early while the construction guys listened to Dick in a Box, I had a weird medical mystery, my midlife crisis manifested in me giving Salvadore an actual bubble bath, and I confessed to having Low Level Shame about ghosting my long-time hair stylist. I also joined my husband in Banff for a Fancy Conference. Well, I was there for the Fancy part, he was there for the Conference part.

July

On June 30, we said goodbye to Barkley, and we were all brokenhearted. We started off the summer with some visiting relatives from California – including my teenage pen pal – and our usual trip to the lake for Canada Day, I found solace in hiking, my garden, and cooking, and I also snapped at door-to-door solicitors, I talked about Cart Karma, I started a Big Project and Curated my Closet, and in the face of a Calgary Heat Wave, I shared my Week of Summer Outfits. It was also the Ten Year Anniversary of Nicole’s Favourite Things!

August

We went on vacation, I read a lot, I vowed to have Just One Backup of everything in the house and kind of failed, I got all nostalgic, my husband and I went to Mexico where I spoke broken Spanish and sang karaoke, and I read a lot more. Notably and for the first time ever, I travelled with ONLY carryon, and I can never go back, proving that YOU SHOULD NEVER JUDGE.

September

Life has its ups and downs, and to that end there were mice in the house and the boys drank our expensive Patron mixed with Dr Pepper, on the same day I cleaned my kitchen with a toothbrush, the Queen died, my son turned 17 and when I went grocery shopping I realized I had some kind of Psychological Long Covid, and I thought about house staging and photo filtering, and showed photos of my unstaged, unfiltered home. My son went backcountry camping and to distract myself from thoughts of giardiasis I talked about a variety of Favourite September-Related Things.

October

My son did not get giardiasis, but we had a number of run-ins with local wildlife, one of my students introduced me to the concept that Gratitude Is The First Step To Joy, and I listed off some of the things I am grateful for, Rex came into our lives and has brought us so much happiness, I shared my Week of Fall Outfits, I talked about body changes and the concept of “flattering” when it comes to clothes, and I prepared for Halloween like a crazy person. I also celebrated all things fall-related!

November

I rapidly shifted into Winter and Tiny Secret Festive Season, we celebrated our one-month Rex-aversary, I finished my Christmas shopping, I joined all the cool kids in doing a Day in the Life post, I revealed my longtime desire to join a flash mob, and my son decided to join the throngs of men who observe Movember. I talked about Christmassy favourites and just regular favourites.

December

We all started Advent calendars, and mine was a puzzle one, I went to an actual holiday party with actual people and actual fancy clothes, I answered your questions about the holidays, I took the car in for servicing and it was a huge ordeal, I revealed my favourite childhood gifts, and I celebrated my girlfriends. On Festivus I talked about my favourite holiday things and also how I jerry-rigged the furnace.

It has been quite a year! 2023 will be a year of change for me; I’m not great with change, and I love my life as it is, but change is part of life, so here we go! Time to jump in. Happy New Year to all of you. Thanks for being here on this journey with me. xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The “It’s Festivus For The Rest Of Us” Edition

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Happy Festivus, everyone!

As is tradition on this day, I will air some grievances.

To be honest, I don’t really have many grievances, but I do have a grievance-adjacent issue. It is a truth universally acknowledged that a house in possession of a furnace will have an issue with that furnace that only surfaces on the coldest day of the year. And so it was on Monday morning, when the windchill was minus 40, I noticed that the temperature in the house was below that at which the thermostat was set at, and the furnace was not running. The temperature started to drop fairly rapidly, which brings us to the Feats of Strength portion of Festivus. For me, it was less of a feat of physical strength, than mental.

I went down to the furnace room and shone a flashlight on the furnace, the heating equivalent of kicking tires. I noticed a sticker on the furnace with troubleshooting steps, starting with changing the furnace filter and ending with resetting the furnace by flipping the emergency switch. I did each of the steps, ending with the reset button. How many things in this world are fixed by just turning them off, and then turning them back on again? It worked for this girl! The furnace whooshed into action, and the house warmed up to its typical 20 degrees. I congratulated myself, put on several layers, and took Rex for a walk.

When we returned an hour later, the furnace had stopped and the house had cooled down a couple of degrees. I restarted the furnace again, considered my new full-time job of the modern day equivalent of stoking the fire, and called to leave a message with Tony the Hot Plumber, who has been my plumbing-related eye-candy for over a decade. It’s not a chore by any means to call Tony, but I figured that given the weather, it could be a day or maybe even a few days before he could get back to me. “This is like your Superbowl!” I said cheerfully in the message, suggesting that maybe there was a problem with the sensor since the actual furnace seemed to work.

Only a couple of hours later, I got a call from Tony. He had just finished a job, and could be at my house in half an hour!

I quickly zoomed around the house, gathering cash – it’s his preferred method of payment – and then I put together a cute little box of Christmas treats and applied lipstick. Don’t judge! You would do the same.

It WAS a problem with the sensor – am I about to embark on a new career as a heating and plumbing clairvoyant? – and it was easily fixed. “I see you changed the furnace filter,” Tony said, “And you even put it in the right way!” Written down, it sounds patronizing, but really it was said in a congratulatory and encouraging tone, albeit one that was perhaps pleasantly surprised. I am now eternally grateful for a reliable furnace, as well as having a reliable (and attractive) plumber. I was especially happy as the weather got worse over the next couple of days.

All right, grievances – such as they are – have been aired, feats of strength shown, it’s time to move on! This is a very long, roundabout introduction to the last Favourite Things of 2022. I wanted to show you some of my favourite holiday-related items to round off the year.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The “It’s Festivus For The Rest Of Us” Edition

Gnome Sweet Gnome

I love gnomes at all times of the year, but I think they are especially fun during the holidays. Salvadore is enjoying hanging out in what I am calling Gnome Corner, with his friends Knightley, Elton, and Bingley, just in case you weren’t yet sure about one of my favourite authors.

Not to worry, Gaston is festively hanging out in the ball pit.

God, remember ball pits? There was one at the Beaners where my kids got their hair cut when they were small, and I recall one of my sons saying “Hey, my sock is all wet!” I looked over to see a small child in the ball pit with him look suddenly sheepish. Shudder. I am glad those days are in my rearview mirror.

My new tree gnomes are hanging out happily.

Pining For Christmas

Many years ago – at least twenty, but it might be more – I was visiting my in-laws and, while walking on their property, saw many beautiful, huge pine cones on the ground. I gathered a large number of them, intending to make a Christmas craft, temporarily forgetting that I have absolutely no craft-making qualities. Fortunately I remembered this aspect of myself before the pine cones became a pile of hot glue and shards. Instead of doing something that would only end in tears, every year I arrange the pine cones in a bowl and on various flat surfaces around the house – see Gaston’s photo, above.

Run, Run, As Fast As You Can

Speaking of my lack of craftiness, last Friday the boys and I engaged in our annual tradition of decorating gingerbread people. As always, I stuck with my assembly line of mini M&Ms and frosting tubes to make plates full of smiling, tri-buttoned people while the boys got creative.

My younger son concentrated on making the gingerbread equivalent of AEW wrestlers, complete with bladed foreheads – maybe don’t look that up – and a Walter White.

My older son created a Joe Biden and a Barry Bee, among others.

One of those “others” was the mom from Mean Girls, complete with Juicy tracksuit, for his own Cool Mom.

I laughingly suggested that I should get myself a Juicy tracksuit, and my younger son’s response was Not if you want to remain the Cool Mom. As if I would wear a pink tracksuit. I guess my Cool Mom status still stands.

Mint Squares

Mint chocolate is the festive season’s pumpkin spice: people either love it and anticipate it with excitement, or they don’t. I am a Love It person; it’s probably my favourite sweet flavour combination. To that end, years ago I created these vegan mint squares and they have been a Christmas staple ever since.

I also love reading my old recipes for the commentary; this one has a reference to Richard Scarry and Aunty Ant.

Feliz Navidad

Back in 1997, I was on a girls’ trip to Mexico, and I happened on a little shop that had all sorts of little knick-knacks, and I fell in love with these little creche figurines. The boys used to play with them when we would set up the creche every year, and Rex has wagged a few cows and sheep out of the barn, which is a testament to their fortitude (maybe they are celebrating Festivus, with feats of strength?).

Christmas Vacation

I love the movie Christmas Vacation with all my heart; we watch it every year and this year we were joined my my husband’s cousin and her husband, who also love it. My husband prepared for it by wearing this:

In a massive fail, I had worn mine to exercise in that morning, so it was in the wash:

The fact that we have these shirts represents my husband’s great love; he doesn’t even really like that movie, but he puts up with my obsession. He helped put together this puzzle:

Maybe he feels that the exterior lighting hits a bit too close to home.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, my friends. I know this year is fraught with weather concerns and storms, and I hope you are all safe and warm and surrounded by love. xo

Sisters From Other Misters

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It’s Fun Mail Season! It’s so nice to open the mailbox to see something other than flyers – which I still get because the fellow who delivers them is developmentally disabled and I will NOT put him out of a job, I just recycle them upon receipt – and the occasional request for funding. Fun Mail Season reminds me of when I was a Sweet Young Thing and used to get letters from all my pen pals, and sometimes even LOVE LETTERS from far-away would-be suitors, which makes me sound like I’m in a Jane Austen novel, but the letters often contained descriptions about parties attended and how their friends drank themselves senseless, which I am pretty sure Marianne Dashwood never had to hear about.

I have long thought of the blogging community and social media as being today’s pen pal equivalent. Some say that such friendships are Not Real, but I beg to differ. Social media has allowed me to stay in the lives of people who I would have lost touch with over time, in a different era, and that is a real gift. It is said that friends come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime, and I used to think in this Friendship Venn Diagram, none of the circles would be overlapping. Now, though, I think they can and often do. Perhaps I am not in a Going For Coffee relationship with my best friend from first grade, but I am on Facebook with her, and that’s nice too. In this way I am in touch with my far-away cousins, people I used to work with, and almost my entire high school graduating class; it might be “connection-lite,” but it’s still connection, and it’s still valid.

One of the books I read this week spoke very disparagingly of such connections, but I think there is a real place for them in our lives. After all, not everyone can bring you a casserole in times of hardship, but words can lift you up just the same. Sometimes I think of elephants and big horned sheep, and how when one of their herd is injured or in need, the rest of them form a circle to keep them safe. That is what social media and blogging friendships feel like to me; it seems to me that when friends are experiencing real losses and hardships, particularly in the last few years, our online community gathers and forms that strong circle until the person on the inside can get back on her feet.

I have two brothers and growing up, I never wanted for a sister; in fact, I relished the role of Only Girl, and all the special treatment that came with it. As I got older and pursued education and a career in a male-dominated area, and then had sons, I started to long for a sister. I have many wonderful girlfriends and have been blessed to be a part of many beautiful circles, and I have cultivated a few friendships that I consider Chosen Sisters. These Sisters fill up my cup and visits with them are always beneficial to me; we can be completely real and open with each other, and we never judge. Two of them live far away but we touch base nearly every day (HI HANNAH, HI ALLISON), and one of them is my motivator and cheerleader on every level who I see as often as our schedules permit (HI JANET). One Sister is someone I see a few times a year with her family, and we all used to travel together pre-Covid (HI JEN). Her family feels like my family, and as our kids start to prepare to leave us with an empty nest, I hope that we can continue to travel. Another Sister is also my neighbour, and she has been a surrogate-aunt-next-door to my kids (HI TARYN).

I’ve been thinking a lot about friendships and the role that certain women play in my life lately. In my recent Ask Me Anything, Suz (HI SUZ) asked Who is your oldest friend (how many years?) and do you have one best friend/ soul sister? I just saw my oldest close friend this weekend (HI TARA)! On the very first day of grade nine, back in 1989, I noticed a new girl in homeroom, with the thickest, curliest, most beautiful red hair you have ever seen. I bounced over to her and said “Hi! I’m Nicole! I love your hair!” and we have been close friends ever since. These days we only see each other twice annually, on our birthdays, but we are able to pick up exactly where we left off. Tara gave me a baby shower when my oldest was born, and when she introduced herself to the guests, she said Nicole and I have been through our life stages together, and those words really stayed with me. It’s really special to think of friends going through the same stages at the same time over the years. We are now in the thick of Young Adult Parenting, and Almost Empty Nest Life, and perhaps at some point in the future we will be lucky enough to be Living La Vida Mother-In-Law and perhaps even Grandma World.

This brings me to my second question of the day, from Colleen (HI COLLEEN), which is a two-parter. How do you feel about your boys dating? What kind of mother-in-law and/ or grandma do you want to be? I feel just fine about my boys dating. I think they are smart and respectful and that they will make good boyfriends and, possibly, husbands. We have had only a few girlfriends and dates around here, and I think they were really great in terms of growth and learning. Many years ago a friend of mine had said conversationally in terms of her son dating that no one is ever really good enough for your kid, and I vehemently disagree with that. I think that, right there, is the reason mothers-in-law have the kind of reputation they have. I would like to be a very Here For You mother-in-law, and one who is open-minded to different ways of living and doing things. If I am lucky enough to be a grandma, I hope to be a hands-on one who is helpful. My mother was so helpful to me when the kids were small; I want to be just as helpful to my sons and their future spouses. I hope to be a good listener, and someone who meets spouses and grandchildren exactly where they are, without judgement or thoughts of how to change them.

I recently read something that said unsolicited advice is the same as judgement and that is something that I have been rolling around in my mind this week. It’s something to keep in mind for everything, I think, from navigating friendships to changing family dynamics. The key to all relationships, for me, is to stay open and to remember that there is room for everyone. From besties to random Instagram follows, the world is richer when we open up to allow people in.

Weekly Reading

Mean Baby. I had heard this was a good memoir, and then when I picked it up, I realized I had no idea who this woman is. I haven’t seen anything she’s done, but no matter. This is an extremely compelling and terribly sad book about her lifelong demons, her toxic relationships – particularly with her mother, multiple sexual assaults, alcoholism, and, finally, a diagnosis of MS. So, trigger warning? I tore through it but it is dreadfully sad. It is advertised as being “bitingly funny,” which makes me wonder about the reviewer. I found nothing in this book to be funny.

The Hotel Nantucket. Mid-December might not be the most typical time for a beach read but hey, library holds come in when library holds come in/ the heart wants what it wants. This was a very fun read about the employees and guests at a hotel in Nantucket…a haunted hotel! A friendly ghost floats around, watching the affairs and scandals that abound. It was entertaining and satisfying, with engaging characters and back stories. I’m not typically one for ghost stories, but I found this just so charming and fun. I am going to seek out more from this author, for more mood-lifting reads.

This Wild And Precious Life. I picked up this book because I heard a review about it that was positive, and also the title is taken from one of my very favourite poet’s most famous poem. And I will say that this book does contain many very good points. But. It is not often I regret the time I spend reading a book but wow, I regret reading this. The very good points – the climate crisis, building connections with people, the beauty of hiking in nature – were, for me, completely offset by the extremely off-putting and incredibly judgmental writing style of this very privileged author. As an example, the author relates MANY anecdotes in the book in which she confronts, shames, and berates strangers for not having a reusable cup in a coffee shop or consuming anything that utilizes single-use plastics. Then she talks about her post-hike ritual of buying a bag of potato chips. Presumably, the potato chips are in a single-use bag. She flies around the world to hike but rants about horrors of car ownership, then in the next chapter mentions a road trip. In a car. While I do agree with consuming less and that we should all be doing our part to combat the climate crisis, I found myself bristling constantly while reading this, which is the opposite of what this book should be doing. If the thesis is to motivate people to climate activism, then the message should not be “no matter what you do, it will never be enough, and you are a scourge to our collective environmental well-being.” I kept wanting to stop reading but I also wanted to be open-minded; in the end I do not feel that I was enlightened in the least, but instead felt that I wasted several hours that I will never get back.

It is shaping up to be a very cold week here, this week before Christmas. As I write this, it’s minus 40 with windchill, and I am wondering how long Rex is going to want to walk for. Well, I have my heated mittens and my snowpants for just such occasions. I hope wherever you are, you are staying warm, and able to seek out moments of calm in what is typically a very busy week. xo