This year my winter has gone by a lot faster than the two previous ones here in Canada-land. I’ve done a hefty amount of winter sports – cross-country and downhill skiing, skating and snowshoeing. Could that be the reason?
The guy at the ice rink knows me by now. The other day they put on Metallica – as opposed to the Franco pop that they usually play – and I had a grand time swooshing away to “Nothing Else Matters”. I congratulated the ice-maker on his excellent musical choice.
The below sign just cracked me up. This is a store in Montreal.
I’m getting better at keeping my glamour even in freezing conditions. When I moved to Canada from Paris, that seemed to be the hardest thing. Gradually, you get more practice in decoding the weather, and also in choosing the good materials or the right combos.
It feels soothing to have found my place here a bit more. Canadians are good people. Very curious about other countries so that has always felt nice.
French Canada is an experience of its own. Well, on this continent I only know the US – so outside of my last year’s brief hop to Ottawa, I have had no experiences in the English-speaking Canada. I’d be interested to see what Toronto or Vancouver are about. And if they are similar to here.
My Thursday’s zumba continues to be a high point of the week. Although half of Friday goes into trying to get my groove back.
Lately all the sportive activities have taken a toll on my coffee shop hanging time, but that can be remedied soon. We did go to a delicious Japanese restaurant last Saturday. I had salmon sushi, smoked salmon sushi and salmon maki. Someone at the table made a comment “you must like salmon”. You’re Scandinavian-born or you’re not.
I’ve tried to be more mindful about what and how much I eat. Paying close attention to hunger cues. Somewhere along the line I developed a habit of eating if I got anxious about something. Then I’d regret it later when the feeling passed. Now I’ll aim at sitting down with the feeling, and then decide whether or not that is hunger or something totally different.
Anxiety continues to slather its unwanted colors on my otherwise happier days. How much of it should I just accept as “part of me”? And when can I decide that “that’s not me” and I have to fight it, or better yet chase it away?