Crazy, healthy.

Last weekend, I had the privelige/honour/joy of seeing Home Ec superstar and cookbook author (and tv personality and comedian...), Mairlyn Smith, give a talk at the Manitoba Association of Home Economists conference. (I even blogged about it.)

I have met Mairlyn on several occasions, but this was the first time that I had the opportunity to get her to sign one of her books for me.

I love what she wrote.

Bloody Nails!

This year, thanks to some horribly-timed dental work, I won't be dressing up for Halloween. Instead, I have decided to let my nails have all the fun with some spooktacular (and super-easy) nail art.

To create this slightly-gross, but work-appropriate, look, you'll need: black and blood-red polish, nail polish remover and q-tips, and your favourite base coat and top coat.

Step 1: after your base coat has dried, apply two solid coats of black polish and allow to dry. (My fave is Essie's "Licorice". It's jet, jet black and covers completely in two coats.)

Step 2: choose which nail (or nails) you want to "bleed" and remove some of the polish with remover on a q-tip. I chose to remove all along the nail tip and down in a random, drippy shape.

Step 3: add your red polish by dabbing a well-loaded brush into the bare area of your nail(s). You want to fill in the space with a thick, even coat. (It should look like blood dripping, not a weird french manicure.)

Step 4: let the red polish dry before adding a nice glossy topcoat to all nails.

Step 5: admire your horrifying handiwork.

Smile.

 

"If we wish away our laugh lines we wish away the memories that made them."

 

Corny? Possibly... but to be completely honest, I wouldn't wish a single one of my laugh lines away. They are 41 years in the making, you know. 

 

No botox, wrinkle cream, surgery or voodoo for this girl. If the crinkles around my eyes tell the world that I smile and laugh A LOT, then bring 'em!

Thankful

Yesterday I joked that I was mostly thankful for the movie Pitch Perfect and chocolate almonds.

While there are shreds of truth in there (Acascuse me?), I am really most-thankful for my son, the ever-mentioned and ofetn hollered at Mascot, the rediculously cute guy that I have been calling my fella for the past 5 years, 3 months, and 28 days (or so), my dad, who now parents me from beyond (and sometimes in the form of a blue jay - long story), and my mom (aka Mumji), who's voice is what keeps me here*.

With those four out of the way, I can get on to the business of listing some of the random things that I am thankful for:

- My wonderful, carefully-curated collection of friends. I love them all to bits. Even the weird ones.

- My Group Power and Spin classes and all the energy that I get from them. The more I expend, the more I find is returned. Funny, that.

- On a related note, I am thankful for good health and a thick, shiny coat. And the ability to lift heavy things with enthusiasm.

- My job. As crazy as it can get, it is like an education and an experience wrapped in a blueberry pancake and served in a commemorative tote bag of chili.

- My sense of humour. Oh, lord... without it I think I would've gone bonkers by now.

- Irony. See humour.

- Aveda "be curly" curl enhancer. In a perfect world, highly effective, nice smelling hair products would flow from special taps in our bathrooms. Until we can make that happen (we should maybe get rid of world hunger first), there is this stuff.

- Clean air, clean water, farmers who grow good, clean food. And coffee. Cups and cups of coffee.

*Ok, wait...that's a Jann Arden lyric.

Say cheese!

There used to be a time that I could get the kid to pose for all sorts of photos. Even when he was at the age when he never stood still, I could get him to at least pause and smile for the camera.

Now that he's 16, this is the best that I can expect to get. Without bribery.

You have to look close. The lanky thing in a camp shirt. Right behind me, darting out of the shot. Yeah. That.

Don't get me wrong, it is a very nice picture of part of his torso and I am glad to have it. It's just that he's growing up so freaking fast - taller and bolder and stronger and more confidant. I'm not all that sentimental, but lately I have been feeling that if I don't capture the moment, I won't have anything to compare it to. Will I remember that sweet face when he returns from two months at camp next summer with a weird, patchy beard and hair hanging in his eyes*?

I guess that I should've known this would happen. There are approximately four photographs of me that were taken between age 13 and 18. Or, I should say, there are four photos in existence. I went through a weird time with my hair** in the 80s.

Scrolling through the photos on my phone just now, I guess I shouldn't really complain. I do have more than 4 current pics of the boy. And he's even smiling in a few of them. My days of cramming him into a big mixing bowl a la Anne Geddes are long gone, but I'll take what I can get.



*Ok, that one probably won't happen. The boy's hair grows out, not down. Like mine, it gets bigger instead of longer. At least there's no question of where he came from...

**Yeah, this is a recurring theme. Jacob can blame me for his curls, but I have never been able to figure out where mine came from.

Forget 50 Shades

 

I think I have found my perfect shade of grey - CoverGirl Outlast in Non-stop Stone. It's perfectly trendy, without looking trendy...and it's not quite the same colour as my car, so I don't look like I am trying too hard.

 

And I have also discovered that it is impossible to take a flattering hand picture. I tried gripping an object, but it reminded me too much of the old Consumers Distributing catalogue. (The ladies know what I'm talking about. Bow chicka bow bow.)

Good things come in big and small packages.

Friday: I have this thing about entering raffles...especially when they are for a good cause. Since I wasn't planning to participate in the Run for the Cure, I bought a few tickets for a raffle at the CIBC in Winnipeg Square. (That's practically the same thing, right?)

Anyway, I was just minding my own on Friday afternoon and, out of the blue (pink?), I got a call from a very nice lady telling me that they had made the draw and I had won! I went down right after work and picked up my prize - a very lovely pearl and silver bracelet (value:$110). How awesome is that?

Saturday: Christmas came a little early for us this year. Hot on the heels of her own kitchen reno, my mom sent us a brand new fridge! It's a GE bottom-mount and it is COOL. Both literally and figuritively.

The only thing "wrong" with it, according to the Mascot, is it's lack of giant cardboard box. Apparently, when he heard that we were getting a new fridge, he started fantasizing about making a box-fort. (I am assuming that, for boys, box-forts are fun at any age.)

Sunday: Two of my favourite things are pie and pizza. One of my favourite people is my friend Heather. On Sunday, my friend Heather had me over and fed me pie and pizza. In that order. She is the best.

In the words of the Mascot, "That Heather is quite a dame." That she is, kiddo. That she is.

Making a Splash

Thirty minutes before the start of my Aqua Zumba class, I was sitting in my car in the rec centre parking lot, trying to think up a plausable reason NOT to go. After 15 minutes, I decided to put all of my fears* aside and go inside. Gulp.

Once I was out on the pool deck, though, I realized that I was just being silly. The nine other gals who were assembled were having a conversation about bounce-testing their bathing suits. They were all in groups of twos and threes, but I managed to slip myself into the group and joined in on the giggles. This would be fun....right?

Right. But it wasn't just fun, it was FUN. Like, laugh-out-loud, splashy, silly, OMG fun.

The instructor did all of the moves on dry land (sometimes with the help of a chair), and all that we had to do was follow along. Or, at least, make our very best attempt. (It was our first class, after all.)

After many, many laughs, and a darn good workout, our 45 minutes were over. And, had there been a hot-tub in close proximity, we would've kept the party going.

*was I going to fall out of my bathing suit top and/or drown.