Rarely do I have this same we are one feeling with clean-cut white men in their sixties, but I did recently when I spotted such a person wearing a Che Guevara t-shirt at Superstore. Che Guevara! What a statement! I had one of those myself, circa 1990, although mine was red while this gentleman’s was green. I mentally saluted him.

Kelowna is a summer-tourist town, and so traffic is definitely heavier at this time of year. Since I lived most of my life in Calgary, I refer to Kelowna traffic as “traffic,” in that it might now take you 15-20 minutes to get basically anywhere, as opposed to 10-15. It means literally nothing to me, but it must mean a lot to some people, judging by the fellow who was behind me when I was on my way to Superstore to pick up groceries and send admiring thoughts to 60-year-old Che Guevara fans.

I was stopped at a red light, waiting to turn right. The person in front of me was also stopped, and although there was a small gap in traffic (“traffic”), she hesitated. Maybe she was waiting for a bigger gap. Maybe she was worried a pedestrian was going to cross. I don’t know, but her pause prior to turning was approximately three seconds long. At that point, the man behind me had had enough. He laid on his horn – for longer than the woman was stopped – and when I looked in my rearview mirror he was gesturing, his mouth moving violently. Unless my lip-reading skills fail me, he was cursing this woman and her cautious approach to driving.

Of course after the turn I found myself directly beside the man at the next red light, who was again gesturing and, apparently, swearing. I wondered how miserable life must be in order for someone to be that worked up by what could be, at most, a tiny blip of a delay. Maybe he’s getting a divorce, I thought to myself. Maybe his wife died. Maybe his child is in the ICU at the hospital and he just wants to go home and shower before returning to be by his side. Maybe he lost his job or his investments tanked or he discovered he has cancer. I related this to my husband later, who replied that maybe he was just an asshole.

Well, there’s always that. I did think of my husband’s words later in the week when I was walking Rex. One of our regular routes is on the greenway by a creek, and I cannot emphasize enough how wide this walkway is. It’s designed not only for walkers and runners, but also bikes and horses. Five people could walk abreast easily at any given time. In other words, it is very easy to pass people if need be.

I did pass a woman with a small dog; as always, I smiled and said Good morning, to which she said nothing. I didn’t really clock this at the time, since I was immersed in a podcast dissecting, of all things, Mrs Dalloway, and Rex was busy sniffing the ground. We stopped as he investigated the greenery from which the week before a garter snake had emerged; I supposed Rex was waiting to see if the wiggly moving twig was still there. The woman passed me, and I hurried Rex along, an image of him picking up the wiggly moving twig and accidentally crushing it to death floating, Hamlet-like, through my mind.

We walked along sedately, fifteen feet or so behind this woman, when she suddenly stopped. She turned to me furiously and said JUST GO, gesturing wildly in front of her. Rex and I silently walked forward, while the change in perspective from Mrs Dalloway and Clarissa is a significant one played in my ears. From the corner of my eye I could see this woman standing still and staring daggers at me. I kept my gaze forward, wondering what just happened, as I put some distance between us.

Five minutes later I ran into some regulars with their dogs, and as I chatted with them, I could see the woman approach. She stood at a distance, still glaring, her angry energy emanating off of her body, until our small party broke up and went our separate ways.

I don’t know her story. Maybe her dog was once attacked by a big dog, maybe she herself was once attacked by a big dog or by a middle-aged woman in an “I Love Canada” t-shirt, maybe she had a Covid hangover and took social distancing to an extreme, maybe she was just an asshole. But other people exist, and when we leave the confines of our own four walls, we have to figure out how to live in the world as it is.

It reminded me of when I was living in Calgary, only a few months into Life With Rex. We were in – this is an important detail – an off-leash dog park, when a man tore a strip off of me as Rex waggingly approached his dog. Call your goddamn dog! he screamed. What happened? There was no barking or growling or any other questionable behaviour. I quickly went over to him. My dog’s in heat! Get your dog under control! the man yelled, as Rex stood by obliviously, happily wagging.

This happened during a time in which I was under immense, non-dog-related stress. My nervous system was shot. I was completely unprepared to be verbally accosted by a stranger in the dog park, and so I apologized – I APOLOGIZED – as I leashed Rex and led him away. It did not occur to me until later that a) while Rex is male, he has no testicles, and would not be an impregnation threat, and b) WHO TAKES A DOG IN HEAT TO AN OFF-LEASH PARK?

An asshole, that’s who. This was three and a half years ago, and I still cannot come up with a compassionate, empathetic story about this man. My conclusion is he’s just an asshole, and a really stupid one at that.

Weekly Reading

I’m having a book flood right now! I had paused all my holds for our trip, and now they are all coming in. I finish one book and two more are waiting for me at the library. It’s a lovely problem to have, particularly since the guys went to Vancouver for some World Cup watch parties, so I’ve had a lot of uninterrupted reading time.

Lady Tremaine. This retelling of the Cinderella story through the stepmother’s point of view was very entertaining. It went in directions I did not see and had a very satisfying ending. A happy ever after, but different? I really enjoyed it.

Cleo Dang Would Rather Be Dead. Canadian author alert! Also, dead baby alert. Halfway through this book about a woman whose baby dies at birth, I flipped to the acknowledgements, where my suspicion was confirmed: this author did write this sad story based on her own experience. What it lacks in tight plot and storyline it more than makes up for in emotion and a realistic portrayal of what it is like to live out every parent’s worst nightmare. She writes about the difficulties of watching her best friend having a baby – that lived – on the exact same day as hers died, of going to friend’s baby showers, and of navigating well-meaning but draining and awkward interactions with the public. It’s a story of grief but also of hope, and the author wanted to break the silence around the tragedy that is infant death. I’m glad I read it, and I will read more from this author.

Dog Person. It’s been a while since I’ve read a book by this author, and this, her latest, is a very charming and sweet story about a grieving man who is faced with losing the bookstore he ran with his late partner. The twist? It’s told from their dog’s point of view, who has been tasked with finding someone for the widower to love again. As a warning: the dog is old. We all know what happens in books in which the dog is old, so BE WARNED. But, like having a dog, the joy is worth the end. What a darling book, with such a great first line: “There are two kinds of people in this world: dog people, and people who still need to meet the right dog.”

With the guys away, Rex has been enjoying my undivided attention. My younger son thought that a book written from Rex’s point of view would be 300 pages of Mom Mom Mom I love Mom Mom Mom treat Mom Mom Mom walkies walkies with Mom I love Mom Mom Mom oh no she’s getting in the car without me when will she be back when will she be back when will she SHE’S BACK YAY Mom Mom Mom I love Mom. I mean, it might not be a bestseller, but it would be a bestseller to me. xo

Speaking of reading, I wanted to share my reading – and NOT reading – list from my recent trip to London and South Africa. Before my trip, I was chatting with my friend Nicole (HI NICOLE). She and I have had a monthly check-in since January 2018, and we’ve never missed a month, despite Covid, vacations, and a cross-province move. She is the person who best knows my reading taste, and she asked what I had loaded up my Kobo with. I cheerfully told her that it was mostly filled with random romances and other light-sounding books from the library and from the Kobo website; I had several very long flights and stopovers in my future, and I wanted the reading to be fluffy and fun.

And let me tell you, this was a mistake.

I’m the problem, hi, it’s me. Something I know about myself is that too many “light and fun” books in a row, and I start to become very unengaged with the tropey stories. I am also not a Spicy Romance girl; I find graphic sex scenes to be weirdly boring and, in the case of a few very descriptive anal ones, alarming. I have been known to inadvertently Kegel whilst reading them. I prefer a sexy, fade-to-black Closed Door Romance. I just don’t want to read about throbbing cocks penetrating wet pussies, I AM SORRY, BUT I DON’T.

Unrelated to spiciness, I plodded my way through The Friend Zone and Kitchen, and then I ran out of patience. I was in the midst of Ready or Not, which deals with a woman who gets accidentally pregnant from a one-night stand with a bartender, even though they used condoms, which, as we all know from sex ed and also from that stupid storyline of Ross and Rachel, are only 97% effective. Okay! But the pregnant woman is seemingly completely unaffected and unaware that her life is going to change, and starts a romance with her best friend’s brother, at which point I said ENOUGH. I started, and DNF’d, four more books IN A ROW: Book People, Strangers Tend To Tell Me Things, Exit Lane, And Then There Was You. I began to despair for myself as both a reader and as a writer.

Then something changed, and my reading life brightened up again. Thankfully! So here’s the low down on what I DID finish, the lows, the highs, and the in-betweens.

Vacation Reading: London and South Africa 2026

The Friend Zone. In my 20s, a friend told me she and her husband divorced because he wanted kids and she didn’t. “There’s no compromise,” she said. “It’s you have kids or you don’t.” That’s kind of the premise of this romance – a guy wants kids, a woman has extreme fibroids and maybe can’t, they never discuss it…you know what, this book is kind of dumb. But it was an easy read for travel and all’s well that ends well. Also, the author based it on her friend’s lived experience so…great for her, I guess? A meh read, kind of disappointing as I like this author generally.

Kitchen. This was a original little read about found family and the power of food to bring people together. I didn’t find it overly compelling or engaging, but it was short.

Why We Hate Cheap Things. Also titled, Why I Hate My Kobo Which Keeps Glitching So That I Read A Random Book In My London Hotel Room. But honestly, this WAS an interesting read about society’s devaluation of low-cost consumer goods, from pineapples, which once were extremely expensive and rare and are now frequently found on pizzas and in jello salads, to clothing. There was an entire series, with titles like Why We Will Marry The Wrong Person, but my Kobo started working again and we left London.

The Borrowed Life of Frederick Fife. Oh lordy did I need this refreshing little book after my string of DNF’s. This was very sweet, the definition of heart warming. After an elderly man dies, another is mistakenly taken for him – and as the dead man was a dementia patient, no one listens to his protests. Soon he assumes the nursing home life that the deceased had…and ends up with friends and family he never dreamed of. Just a fun, lovely little read.

Always Pack a Candle. This was fantastic. I very much enjoyed this memoir of a public health nurse who worked in the Williams Lake/ Cariboo region in BC in the 1960s. Thanks to Birchie (HI BIRCHIE) for the recommendation!

Hamnet. Late to the party but I loved, loved, loved this book! Maggie O’Farrell can WRITE, wow. This is such an incredibly loving and beautiful story about every mother’s worst imagining – the loss of her child. This is the kind of historical fiction that I love – often I dislike that genre, but this has beautiful writing, fascinating characters, and a rich story. I finished this on the plane and then thought I would watch the movie – and I lasted all of ten minutes before turning it off. Too soon? I don’t know.

Definitely a mixed bag of books, and my ongoing resolution to DNF more was definitely upheld. What are you reading these days, what have you DNF’d, tell me everything. xo

Two great, everyday pleasures in my life are eating and getting dressed. I recognise that the former can be fraught, especially for women; there is a lot of guilt and shame associated with pleasurable food, and I have devoted this, the second half of my life, to eliminating those feelings both in myself and others. What could be more boring and depressing than thinking constantly about optimising our diets, about macros and counting protein grams and shunning delicious things like dessert or wine? I refuse. This is not to say I’ve devolved into total hedonism with no thought to my physical health, on the contrary, I eat to nourish my body and my soul. I strongly believe that restriction leads to obsession, and that life needs to be worth living, and so indulging in joyful deliciousness is part of my life.

As for the latter, it’s no secret I love clothes. Sometimes I think of myself as one of my own childhood paper dolls, that I get to dress every single day, usually multiple times a day. I have curated my closet such that everything in it makes me happy and feel beautiful, and if it doesn’t, out it goes. I have no time left on this mortal coil to feel bad in my clothes.

And so this week I have combined my dear friend Suzanne’s Dinners This Week with Kae’s Daily Outfits (HI SUZANNE HI KAE), for Fashion and Food!

Every Day

On yet another podcast, author Elin Hildebrand described herself as “reliable and consistent,” and girl, same. Whatever I lack in other areas, I make up for in reliability and consistency; if I say I am going to do something, I will, and also, you could set a watch by my morning routine. I start, post-coffee, with my yoga practice, followed by my strength and cardio workout, and for that I wear one of my many, many Lululemon Tri-Y tops that I have amassed over the past nineteen years of daily yoga practice.

What can I say, they don’t wear out. I pair it with Lululemon cropped leggings. Every single day, for the past nineteen years.

I am a sweaty gal, so after that I need to change into a different outfit for my long Rex walk and my gardening session. At this time of year, that means a short-sleeved or sleeveless tee with a fresh pair of cropped leggings.

I wake up at 4:30, and I finish gardening around 10:30, so those two outfits get me through a large chunk of the day.

Sunday

It was Father’s Day, and my husband celebrated by grilling his own damn steak. He and the boys enjoyed that, along with roasted sweet potatoes and asparagus and fresh-from-the-garden kale Caesar that I made.

I always make a special dessert on Sunday, so I made my husband’s favourite: a frozen strawberry daiquiri pie with homemade magic shell.

I wore an outfit entirely from Mark’s, of “Work Wearhouse” fame. They are so much more than steel toed boots and hard hats, people! They also have my favourite Silver jeans and simple tees.

Also, I’m still wearing the ugly house sandals, which have been keeping my plantar fasciitis at bay.

Monday

Another outfit from Mark’s – they should sponsor me – and it’s perfect for a warm summer’s day.

My writing group meets on Mondays at 5:30, so we have a dinner that I prep earlier and can cook quickly, which almost always means stir-fry. This one includes tofu, cashews, and cilantro from the garden.

Tuesday

This is the hot weather uniform: a Lululemon skort and a tank top, this one from, again, Mark’s. Longtime readers will remember I had surgery on my varicose veins in 2011, and then, to the surprise of everyone, I started developing new ones several years ago. That’s very unusual, my doctor said. At one point in my life I would have been self-conscious about them, but now I’m all Get a good peek, city boy?

It was Big Fun Salad night, using Romaine and raspberries from the garden, plus homemade crusty bread.

Wednesday

I know for a fact I have had this outfit since at least 2015, if not earlier. Another Lulu skort – love them – and an Old Navy tank. I know we are all against fast fashion, and we should be wary of the environmental impacts of the textile industry, but I have no regrets about a tank that has lasted over 11 years.

Dinner was build-your-own pasta salad, in which I set out a variety of veggies and everyone can add what they like, including our first zucchini of the season. IT BEGINS.

Thursday

Another hot day, another Lulu skort, this one paired with a ruffly tank that I bought at Jacob, which went defunct in 2015, so I cannot even guess at its age. Also, oh happy day, Rex got groomed! He stayed clean for 35 minutes before going rolling and coming back covered in dust, with a tail full of dead grass and bits of spear grass in his face and ears.

Dinner was black bean soft tacos with garden lettuce and a vegan chipotle sauce I make.

Friday

Friday we had cooler weather and, thankfully, a bit of rain, so I wore another pair of Silver crops – Mark’s! – along with a Lulu tank under an Old Navy tee. The latter two I think of as “new” but I believe I bought them when I was teaching yoga in 2017.

Friday is my favourite day of the week, so I celebrate with my favourite dinner: Greek salad with pita and hummus. And wine! This Riesling from Tantalus has a 94 rating!

Saturday

This was a very unusual day because not only did I go out for lunch with my friend Sandi (HI SANDI), but I also went out for dinner with my husband! This never happens! But my son has a houseguest this weekend and they went out, so my husband and I went to the pub; I had a veggie burger and salad, with yam fries and happy hour wine.

I wore Lululemon City Sleek crops, a tee from the Gap, and a silk scarf from Cambodia.

It was a fun way to cap off a week of yumminess.

Weekly Reading

It’s Buzzy Book Week in the Boyhouse! Let’s see how the buzzy books of the summer stacked up.

Lake Effect. For very personal reasons, the last part of this book was extremely upsetting and triggering to me, such that I had to steel myself to finish the book. That is not the book’s fault, in fact, it is a testament to the story that I wanted to push through to finish, because up until that point I really loved it. It’s a story of two unhappy marriages that get blown apart by an affair, and that affair has ripple effects throughout the connected families and the community. It’s a really interesting examination of choices and their consequences, how secrets can be devastating, and, ultimately, the power of forgiveness. There is also a heavy “food is a love language” theme which really resonated with me. Like I said the end part was extremely hard for me but I hope it is not hard for you.

Yesteryear. Anyone who knows me knows how much I hate time travel as a literary device, and so I was a bit wary to pick up this, arguably the Book of the Summer, in which a tradwife influencer wakes up one morning to find herself living in the year 1855. Without spoiling anything, I will say that the “time travel” component was more original, creative, and, frankly, weird than anything I’ve read before. This debut author received an enormous book deal, and the film rights have already been snapped up for a huge financial number, and I can really see why: this story would be perfect as a film. As a statement and societal commentary, this is very sharp and smart, not surprising considering the author is an acclaimed and serious podcaster. As a literary experience, I found it a bit too on the nose and unbelievable to really become immersed. I also had a few quibbles with some editorial oversights – such as “her sewing needles clicked as she knitted,” a character is referred to as an “old maid” when she’s 30 and has five children – but these are small things. I found the story of the influencer’s journey to be the most interesting, and conceptually this book is a real allegory about social media, appearances, and extremist views about the evils of the world we live in. All in all I enjoyed the ride and I congratulate the author on her huge success.

It feels great to be back in the swing of things around here. I will be back with my vacation reading list later this week, and in the meantime, take care of yourselves, friends. xo

I’ve been home for twelve days now, and my trip to South Africa already feels like a dream. It was a dream! Every little thing was perfect. When we arrived at the Johannesburg airport, the gentleman who was escorting us to the tiny airport that housed all the little bush planes said to me hopefully it won’t be the last, when I said it was our first time to South Africa. From your lips, sir, to god’s ear.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The South African Safari Edition

Oh, I’m Driving My Life Away

We were in three different parts of South Africa, and each place was quite different in terms of landscape and animal populations, and we booked with a company called And Beyond. The woman who arranged all our transportation and accommodations is called Tonya Siebert, and she was fantastic. I highly, highly recommend them. Game drives happened twice daily, and each drive was between three and four hours long. A friend asked if I was ever bored, and the honest answer is no. I don’t think I COULD get bored, because there was always something new and different to look at. It was incredible to see animals up close, just living their lives and doing their thing, not caring one bit about the car full of people taking their photo.

On our very first game drive, right after we saw these lions, our guide stopped the car and suggested we get out to stretch our legs and have a drink. I assumed he was just reminding us to hydrate, so I opened the glass bottle of water they had given me, and started to chug. Then I saw what they were setting up.

It was a full bar with snacks. A FULL BAR WITH SNACKS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BUSH. This happened on each drive; in the morning they would serve coffee, tea, or an absolutely delectable beverage called Mochachocolottamarula, which is basically coffee with hot chocolate mix and a delicious liqueur called Amarula. I had one every single morning and I plan to make this a part of my Christmas holiday celebrations.

This brings me to my next point.

Food, Glorious Food

I had nothing but amazing food for the entire time that we were there. The travel company had sent us a lot of paperwork to fill out, and one part of it involved food preferences. For each meal, I was given a special menu that had my name on it and every single thing was incredibly delicious and was similar to the regular menu my husband was given, that did NOT have his name on it. For example, if he was offered steak, I was offered a cauliflower “steak,” if he was offered a pasta dish mine would not involve meat. The food was so fresh and flavourful, and I have to mention the avocados, which were the best avocados I have had in my life! Every day my menu was different, varied, and universally delicious.

I was also introduced to the South African Pinotage, a wonderful red wine, and enjoyed my favourite Aperol spritzes as well. Also, when they made a gin and tonic, they made a gin and tonic.

One thing I loved about the lodges is that they were equipped with a water filtration system, so drinking water is simply served in glass bottles. There was no plastic and no waste. Any food scraps were sent to local pig farms, and grey water was used for irrigation.

Is This The Real Life?

The accommodations were stunning as well at each of the lodges. Kirkman’s Kamp, in the Sabi Sands, was probably the most convivial; it was quite small, so we got to know all the other travellers, and there was a bar that everyone would go to post-game-drive-pre-dinner, which made for a very fun atmosphere.

Ngala Safari Lodge was gorgeous, and featured a swimming pool that elephants would come to drink out of every once in a while. This happened while we were there but we missed it; later that night we heard the elephants making a lot of noise, and hyenas screaming. I don’t know what happened, but this is why guests are not allowed to walk by themselves after dark.

The most interesting and luxurious accommodations of all were in Phinda Forest Lodge. Each room was a separate structure in the sand forest, and each structure was built around the trees, literally.

People Who Like People

Each safari vehicle was equipped for six guests, and I did wonder what the others would be like. It’s always a bit of an unknown when you join a group, and I always hope for the best. I am happy to report that all of our safari-mates at each of the three lodges – eleven other people in all, from all over the world – were all incredible and I am so happy we met them and spent so much time together.

Every second night each lodge would host a boma dinner, which takes place in an enclosed, open air area, and involves a family-style buffet dinner. Each safari group, along with the guide, would be seated at one table, and there was often traditional singing and dancing around the firepit. Of course I loved that, but as a people person, I also loved eating dinner with a big group and learning everyone’s stories. I am a person who wants to know the story of your life, even if it doesn’t get us out of Chicago.

Fuck The Patriarchy

I love all the animals, and I especially loved learning about their habits and lives. But there was something VERY UPSETTING about the fact that all the female lions hunt and the male lions have first dibs on all the food; the females eat only after the males are done. Female rhinos are always trying to dissuade the males from mating with them if they already have babies, because if they get pregnant too soon the babies will die. It just feels like the world over, males are dominating females and making them weaker, see also the excess of valium prescriptions during the women’s revolution and the emphasis on thinness from the time women got the vote.

YES I AM PROJECTING MY FEELINGS ONTO THE ANIMAL KINGDOM.

My favourite animal is, as I have mentioned before, the elephant. Elephants are matriarchies, but that’s not the only reason I love them. They are such intelligent, incredible animals. The female-led group all help each other raise babies, they support each other, and they rally around each other and their offspring in case of danger. Let us all be elephants!

Plus, baby elephants are the cutest thing I have ever seen. They practice threatening behaviour by flapping their ears out wide, which made us all go awwwww, he’s threatening us. They have to learn to use their trunks, so we watched them dip them wildly in the water.

We also learned that hyenas are a matriarchy. We watched them at their den, and the little cubs were so cute and fun to watch. I used binoculars to get a really close look at them and was absolutely alarmed to see the junk on the baby male. I actually thought it was a fifth leg. It turns out that hyenas have a very high concentration of testosterone, so that even female genitals are, shall we say, elongated. Listen, I’m not drawing any parallels or jumping to conclusions, all I am saying is that it’s a sight to be seen. Or not, depending on your interest in animal genitalia.

Outfit of the Month

Imagine my minor distress on finding out that black clothing is discouraged on safari; I have been diligently shopping my closet for the past several months, but I had to face facts. I needed some new clothes. I have become a big fan of Solbari sun protective clothing, a company out of Australia. If anyone knows about sun protection, it’s the Australians. I purchased a couple of long-sleeved tops in creamy beige and moss green, as well as a long-sleeve light beige button-up top from Lululemon. I wore the long-sleeve tops with my beige Lululemon Dance Studio Crops or my newly-purchased dark green Daydrift pants. Light, loose, comfortable clothing – with elastic waists! – was the order of the day, when you are spending six to eight hours a day in a safari vehicle.

I also wore cute Skechers walking shoes, which have now seen me through Morocco, London, and South Africa. May they travel to more destinations in the future!

I can hardly believe June is almost done, friends. How was your month? Tell me everything. Even if it won’t get us out of Chicago. xo

Not That Kind of Weed

I am happy to report that, after seven solid mornings of work, I have finally got the weed situation under control. In the berry patch and veggie garden, it looked as though someone had planted a thick groundcover throughout. After my first hour of weeding that area, I looked up and felt a sinking despair, with a mere three square feet cleared and so much left to go. However, as my former boss used to say when we had a financial position he wanted to reverse, I just chipped away at it and here we are.

Who’s Eating Off The Floors Anyway

The hardest thing about travelling is leaving Rex behind, it’s true, but it’s also true that Rex is JUST FINE. He’s better than fine, actually, because he boards at a kennel that is known as the Country Club for Pets at which he a) has his own “suite” for sleeping and eating, b) has playtime with other dogs, and c) is known and loved. There are young people whose entire job it is to play with and cuddle the dogs, and one of them runs the Instagram account, so I was able to check in daily to see the big galoompa bounding around, wagging and barking. He always jumps into the car enthusiastically when I ask him if he wants to see his friends, and then he jumps into the car enthusiastically when I pick him up. He’s basically enthusiastic about everything.

Everything, except water. Unfortunately, due to a plethora of dogs and Sunday staffing, the kennel was unable to bathe him before I picked him up. No problem, I thought. He needs a cut anyway. I called the groomer only to find out that his girlfriend was on vacation, and will not be able to take him until this coming Thursday. Let’s just say that Rex is very, very dirty, and leave it at that. Things are not improved by his love of rolling in dead dry grass, and because his fur is just generally filthy, brushing out the grass only lodges it in further. Basically, he spends the day shedding things all over the house. I can feel little…somethings in his fur, said a gentleman I speak to daily on the walking path, as he petted Rex. Clouds of dust rose from Rex’s off-black body, like that of Pigpen’s from Peanuts. Those are grass seeds, I replied grimly.

My sister-in-law, unaware of Rex’s absolute fear and loathing of water, suggested I put him in one of our walk-in showers, just to get some grime off. I immediately pictured a terrified and traumatized Rex bursting, Kool-Aid Man-style through the shower door, leaving a Rex-shaped hole and shattered glass in his wake.

Well, it’s a small price to pay for his happiness, and in the meantime I am vacuuming a lot. Pristine floors are overrated anyway.

The Royal We

Weeding backlogs and a filthy dog are worth it to be able to travel to places I’ve always dreamed about. One of my clearest early memories is from the summer that I was six, and was staying with my grandparents: Grandma Fern woke me up at 2:30 am so we could watch the Royal Wedding together. I remember watching Diana getting out of the car absolutely ensconced in silk, and that gigantic dress and train seemed to me the absolute height of beauty. Nothing could have been more gorgeous. Nothing could have been more special than being awake while everyone else slept, just me and Grandma Fern. Thirty years later, I got up at 2:30 in the morning for another Royal Wedding watch with my Anglophile friend Julie (HI JULIE), who provided tea and scones with clotted cream. The moment I got home I phoned Grandma Fern, and we spent a lot of time dissecting the details, including whether the aforementioned Camilla Parker-Bowles should have been INVITED to her stepson’s wedding. She is NOT his stepmother, do not say that, do not ever say that! She’s nothing but a home-wrecker, Grandma said sternly. Grandma Fern was not interested in the expectations of the era and time healing wounds and the heart wanting what the heart wants. I changed the subject to Kate’s sleeves.

Ever since that day in July 1981, I have been interested in the British Royal Family in general, and Diana in particular. My interest may have bordered on obsession; I still have all my scrapbooks, special edition People magazines, and the myriad coffee table books featuring Diana, the Radiant Princess that I would receive as Christmas gifts. I have not one but two paper doll books of Diana and her clothing, one to cut out and one to keep, and let me tell you, that wedding dress was a bitch to cut out. I am rarely, if ever, affected by celebrity deaths but I was devastated by Diana’s. I avidly watched The Crown up until Season Four, and then shut it off, never to return, because I could not handle reliving the crash, fictionalized or not.

It felt surreal to be in places I had watched and read about. I teared up when I saw Buckingham Palace, thinking how much Grandma Fern would have loved seeing it.

I share a birthday with the late Queen Elizabeth, and to see Westminster Abbey, where she and all the other British monarchs were coronated, was incredible. It is impossible to thoroughly tour everything in London in only five days, but this was on my must-visit list. My husband booked us tickets, and we spent a few hours audio-touring and being amazed.

I did not realize how many burial vaults are in Westminster Abbey, not only of monarchs but also notable scientists, politicians, and writers. There are over 3300 people buried there! Jane Austen is not one of them, but she has a memorial stone in Poet’s Corner.

Another place I wanted an in-depth tour was the Tower of London. I love these kinds of historical buildings and as we went through the rooms, I imagined what it would be like to live or be imprisoned there.

The Tower also is the home of the Crown Jewels, and we were able to see them as well as the changing of the guard in front of the building. It felt incredible to be there, like I was a tiny part of history.

My husband had planned a secret afternoon post-Tower touring, and that included a rooftop flower garden and a walk to a tiny church, St Dunstan, a medieval structure in the middle of city streets. I love a medieval structure!

One of the biggest highlights was seeing Hamilton at the Victoria Theatre, which was a three-minute walk from our hotel. Hamilton is my favourite musical, followed only by Evita and The Phantom of the Opera, so I was VERY excited. It did not disappoint! For those of you who remember my 2020 obsession with the soundtrack, you will know how moved I was for the entire time, and how I sobbed when it was quiet uptown.

London! What a fabulous city, I cannot believe I was THERE. I looked at the Rosetta Stone! With my own eyes! And you can bet that I said Look kids, Big Ben! Parliament, approximately one million times over our five-day visit. Mostly in my head, to the benefit of my marriage.

Weekly Reading

I will share my vacation reads in a separate post (spoiler alert: I had a LOT of DNF’s), but let me tell you about this incredible week of reading: two of my favourite must-own authors had new books out, David Sedaris and Ann Patchett. Since the Sedaris came out a month after my birthday, and months before Christmas, I pre-ordered it. I didn’t even know that Patchett had a new book coming out until it was already released, and when I discovered this fact I jumped up from the table where I was having pre-game drive coffee and scurried over to where our safari-mates, a delightful couple from NYC, were seated. The night before, the woman and I had bonded over our shared love for Patchett, Elizabeth Strout, and my Fuck the Patriarchy lipstick case. I think I had jazz-hands as I told her that there was a NEW ANN PATCHETT OMG and of course I bought it when I went to pick up my preordered Sedaris after arriving home.

All of which is to say that it has been a five-star reading week!

The Land and Its People. I will say I had a tiny bit of trepidation because Happy-Go-Lucky, Sedaris’ last collection, left me upset and depressed. If you know, you know. However, The Land and Its People affected me in the same way Calypso did – I found myself laughing until I cried. A few of the essays about his parents are heartbreaking, but mostly I was literally guffawing the whole way through. GUFFAWING. I also – as with Calypso – found myself feeling seen, as he talked about DuoLingo, getting his steps in, and going on safari in Africa. This was absolutely wonderful and hilarious and felt like a breath of wry fresh air.

Whistler. Ann Patchett can do no wrong in my view, and this glorious new release is no exception. Oh! I loved it so much. It’s the story of a woman who encounters the man who was briefly her stepfather, after over four decades of absence. It’s about secrets and family, friendship and love, trauma and healing. All the characters are so rich, and the story is just so beautiful, made even more poignant as the stepfather was based on her late, dear friend Jim Fox, and that there are three fathers featured in the book, which Patchett famously has written about having. The main character and her sister are around my age, and there was so much that resonated so deeply, from aging parents and cleaning out houses to the claim that “old men love me.” Girl, same. It’s just a breathtakingly beautiful book and the ending left me staring into space for many minutes. It’s just so hopeful and gorgeous, with a message that people are good and decent, despite how things sometimes feel.

The thing about going away when we did is that when we left, it was spring, and now it is full-on summer! I have to keep reminding myself of the day and month. It’s the last full week of June already! It looks to be a beautiful one here in the Okanagan valley, and I hope it’s beautiful where you are. xo

Clothing-wise, including what I wore on the plane, I took three pairs of pants (moss green, beige, black), three black tanks, three black tees, and three long-sleeved UV protectant shirts in cream and moss green. I also packed two long floaty skirts, a bathing suit and cover up, a hat, shortie pajamas, two light scarves, socks, and underwear. I took one nice top to pair with the black pants for the theatre, where we saw a performance of Hamilton. For footwear, I wore cute Skechers walking shoes and I packed a pair of sandals. Also, because I’m the hottest bitch in this place, bringing sexy back, etcetera, I wore my beige, full-length, medical grade compression hose on the plane and packed two pairs of compression calf sleeves. We used the complimentary laundry service that each of the lodges offered, and I also did some sink laundry while we were in London.

What I Overpacked. As always, I packed way, way, way more underwear and socks than I could possibly use. I am okay with that, though, and I will not change my ways. What if for some reason I COULDN’T do laundry? THEN WHAT? I’m not going to wear unwashed panties or socks, thank you very much. I also took far too much sunscreen: two sunscreen sticks, face serum sunscreen, and two 60 mL tubes of Neutrogena sheer. As it turned out, I could have made do with only my face serum sunscreen, as I wore my long-sleeve tops on all the safaris, and I found that the bottle was more than enough for the few times I needed to lube up my shoulders and arms in London.

A few people spoke to me fearfully about malaria, but June is a very low risk season in South Africa. Still, I packed two small bottles of some kind of hippie insect repellant, and didn’t use any because a) it was too cold at night for mosquitoes to live, and b) even if it was mosquito season, each lodge provided an enormous bottle of bug spray in each room which would probably have worked much better than the plant-based essential oil woowoo I brought. In retrospect, I would have brought none at all and saved the space in my little liquids bag.

What I Didn’t Use. It has to be pretty hot before I will submerge myself in an unheated swimming pool, and the temperatures never got above 26 C, so my bathing suit and cover up went unused. I also rarely wore my hat, not because it wasn’t sunny – it was! – but because the safari vehicles can move pretty fast and even with the chin strap the hat wasn’t comfortable to wear, what with the broad brim flapping around. I don’t regret taking them though; I like the option for both swimming and hat-wearing.

I also didn’t use my light scarves; it was too hot in London, and it was too casual on safari to wear them. Neither scarf takes up much room so it isn’t much of a regret on this front either.

What I Should Have Packed. For years I had a 35-40 day menstrual cycle, followed by years of a 21-25 day cycle. In the last six months, it has stretched out again, and my last period before our trip was a 52 day cycle, which started only two weeks before we left. I’m in the clear! I thought happily, but then, wary of my own cheerful prediction, I added a few pantyliners to my toiletries case.

I was right to be wary. The very first day in London, I got my period – surprise! – which was lucky, since there are Boots pharmacies everywhere you turn. If that had happened in the middle of the bush, I would have been fucked. I mean, not literally, since I had my period, and I’m old-fashioned that way. But I did think of the scenario in which I would be free-bleeding in the wild, attracting predators and the hatred of my fellow safari-goers.

The moral of the story? If you have a uterus, even if you think that uterus is closing up shop, PACK PERIOD SUPPLIES.

The Unexpected Star of the Show. The importance of wearing neutral safari colours – dark or moss greens, shades of beige and khaki – were drilled into us before we left Canada. No bright colours! Avoid black! For the love of god, no animal prints! In one of the lodges I did see a woman in leopard print pants who also had a small baby in a front-carrier with a pink and blue blanket, and again, I am not generally an anxious person BUT COME ON. Anyway. I unearthed a rarely worn dark green fleece jacket, which features a windproof vest and hood, from my closet. This was a pandemic purchase and one I have frequently regretted. The jacket was impractical for cold, windy Calgary walks, and it is too warm for Kelowna walks. I hate wearing layers that have hoods, and I kind of hated the colour as well. Why I didn’t donate it years ago, I have no idea.

I’m glad I didn’t, because it was absolutely perfect for safari! It was a nice layer to have on cold morning and evening drives, and the colour was more than acceptable. I shall NEVER donate it, in case I ever get the opportunity to go on safari again.

Happy Friday, friends! xo

On Saturday night at about 8:30, my husband and I arrived home from South Africa after a solid forty-five hours in transit, which included five flights, a jeep ride to an airstrip in Phinda forest, an epic seven hour stopover in London Heathrow, and, less dramatic but very nice, a half-hour drive from the airport in my older son’s Toyota. All that travel sounds more onerous than it really was, as we had lie-flat seats for the long-haul flights – eleven hours from Johannesburg to London, and nine and a half from London to Vancouver – and also fancy lounge access at all airports, which included, thankfully, showers.

Still, that is a lot of travel and when we got home I hugged my sons, unpacked my suitcase, showered, and fell into bed. I woke up Sunday feeling…fine? I feel like it’s a jinx to say I’m totally back to normal life, un-jetlagged, but I think I’m back to normal life. It feels strange to think that a week ago I was on safari, and now I’m back to thinking about the garden, thinking about the weekly meals, thinking about catching up with friends, thinking about exercise and dog walks and everything that makes up my daily world.

London Calling

The journey to South Africa was much less exhausting than the journey home, because we stopped off in London for five nights. London! What an incredible city. It was a wonderful experience to actually be in places that I have only read about for my entire life. I felt quite emotional, just being there. We were there for a heat wave, which was fantastic. We didn’t have a drop of rain, which meant that the city was alive with people, walking through the parks and spilling out of pubs, enjoying the sunshine and heat.

In addition to all the Big Sights of London, my husband created an itinerary in which I would be constantly surprised and delighted. I am, if you recall, the vacation GOER, while my husband is the vacation PLANNER. So while I knew the big-ticket sights we would be seeing, there were plenty of surprises he had planned for me. Like this:

The mothership is calling me home! I didn’t go to any classes, because they are all in the evening and the wait lists are a mile long, but it was a thrill just to be there.

After Peloton, we went to the Devonshire for the “best Guinness in London,” and then to Waterstones.

I have much, much more to say about London, but that will have to wait for another day. I did have a Very Exciting Encounter, though:

Elisabeth! She and I had a one-day overlap in London, so I was lucky enough to meet up with her and her husband at a pub. YOU GUYS. Her beautiful soul just beams out of her beautiful face. I could have talked to her for three days straight, but alas, we both had places to be and things to do. (HI ELISABETH)

This Time For Africa

Something I did not expect for our trip was the type of plane we would be flying on once we were in South Africa. We flew on a double-decker AirBus from London to Johannesburg, and I knew that we would be taking smaller, regional flights once we landed. When I heard “smaller, regional flights” I assumed that the aircraft would be a regular prop plane or something similar, with actual airports. I did not expect to be boarding an eight-passenger bush plane and to be landing on a tiny airstrip in the middle of the bush, an area patrolled by safari jeeps to ensure no large animals would be in the way when the planes flew in. It was quite the experience! We took six such flights, and it was so much fun. The roads, I gather, are not great and the routes to different safari lodges are long and indirect, so flying in was fabulous.

I also assumed we would be seeing animals from afar, using binoculars and just hoping for glances. What I did not realize was that we would be off-roading through the bush, and that we would be so close to wild animals. Honestly, those animals could not care less about safari vehicles, and of course the guides were knowledgeable about giving the animals the space that they require.

I got a feel for things on our first game drive, when a group of four male lions just casually walked by our vehicle and then calmly laid down in the road. If I reached out my arm, I could have touched them, that is how close they were. That first night we also saw African wild dogs, which is a rare sighting, hyenas, and giraffes.

Every lodge had rules that guests could not walk around by themselves after dark, because animals saunter in and out at their leisure. I didn’t feel overly concerned about this until our last lodge, in Phinda, where there are baboons and monkeys everywhere. Baboons are the most terrifying animal and I was petrified whenever I saw one.

It was also unnerving to be charged by a male rhino in the Sabi Sands. Fortunately we were on a straightaway road, and our guide just floored the gas to zoom away. All other rhinos we saw were pretty relaxed, although we did come across a group of mamas with babies, and it was incredible to see how they circled around the young ones protectively.

In each safari group, there is a tracker and a guide. When it comes to the big cats, the tracker – as the name would suggest – looks for tracks and other signs in order to find them. We saw several every day; lions, including cubs, leopards, and cheetahs. Different reserves have different concentrations of animals, depending on the landscape, and in Phinda forest, our final park, leopards are difficult to see. Although we had seen several in Ngala and Sabi Sands, we did not see any at Phinda until our last night, when the rest of the group had already left, and it was just me and my husband on our final game drive. The guide asked what we wanted to see and I said casually, Let’s just drive around and not bother trying to find any of the big cats. I don’t care if we see any, unless one walks in front of our vehicle. Guess what happened!

The elusive leopard walked right in front of our vehicle. It felt like a great sendoff from an absolutely perfect trip.

I love travelling, I love experiencing new things and places. We met so many wonderful people and we saw so many incredible things. I am so, so lucky. And although I love travelling, I also love my home. I was telling my older son – who is home now! – that when I am travelling I am so thrilled to be travelling, and then when I’m home I am thrilled to be home. So here I am! I have a three-week backlog of weeding to tackle, as well as catching up with all my friends. Currently, I have 206 unread blog posts in my reader, so it will take me a bit of time to get through them. Also, did I mention the weeds? In the meantime, tell me! How are you, friends? How have you been, what’s been happening, what are we doing these days? Tell me everything. xo