It's a tough life, but someone's got to love a sommelier

I like wine. A lot. (Hiccup)

So you would think that I consider myself one lucky lady to be married to a trained sommelier. I never have to worry about what wine to serve with what I am cooking, because Hubby takes care of that. I rarely run out of wine because we have a cellar. And I go on all of these great vacations to wine destinations, like Bordeaux. What the heck is not to love!

But I gotta tell you... It's not always easy to be married to a sommelier. For instance, I can't enjoy a glass of wine without first being forced to stick my nose deep into the glass to determine its "nose". And I get in trouble when my answer is "grapes". "Come on Jay," Hubby will say with some measure of exasperation. "You must get [insert green peppers or caramel or tobacco or jam or any other appropriate wine smell here]. It's so obvious!" And heaven forbid I have a Malbec when I'm not eating barbecue meat, even if I really just feel like a Malbec. "It doesn't go with white fish, Jay. You can't have a Malbec with that. Here. Try [insert name of wine that goes well with white fish here] instead." Oh, and that wine cellar we have? I'm not allowed to take a bottle from it without first consulting the house sommelier. Seriously. I'm a grown woman, and. I. am. not. allowed. to. choose. wine. from. the. cellar. on. my. own. But don't worry. I am allowed to touch the "every day" upstairs supply whenever I want. "Every day" being code for "the stuff that the dumb girl who doesn't understand wine can have."

Perhaps the most difficult thing about being married to a sommelier is that Hubby is a member of a wine guild (sounds positively Middle Ages, wouldn't you say). I end up going to an awful lot of wine events, where I am surrounded by a whole lot of people who know a whole lot more than me. With their sophisticated palettes and their love of debating one another about the merits of a super Tuscan over a Côte de Rhone, I haven't got a chance of being the life of the party, a role I hold dear. Because you see, when you are not a wine connoisseur, going to a wine guild event is kind of like being an antelope stumbling right into the lion's den. Chances are pretty good that you will be the centre of attention, but for all the wrong reasons. You're likely to get eaten alive. Especially if the most insightful thing you can say about the glass of wine you are sipping is that it tastes like grapes.

Yes, as much as I love wine, wine events make me feel positively insignificant. And oh so very out of place.

But I am a supportive wife. So the same way that Hubby humours my blue collar passions like Springsteen and football, I cater to his love of trying to be the smartest wine professional in the room by going to guild events with him.

Some of them are really quite fun. Like the "speed dating" event where we worked our way around a room full of wineries, 8 minutes per winery table, sampling their award winning wines. Pretty effective way to get a Tuesday night buzz on in less than an hour, if you ask me.

And then there was the reception at the Argentinian embassy, where not only did I get to taste about 25 of my favourite varietal (Malbec), but I also met a talented Argentinian artist and purchased some of his beautiful art, which, one of these days, I will actually hang on a wall...

But by far, the best guild event is the yearly holiday dinner, refreshingly held after Christmas instead of before, and hosted by one of Ottawa's premier chefs. It is a five course food and wine pairing that makes foodies, sommeliers, and even regular folk like me, weep. And this year's dinner was just last night.

The first year that we went, I was seriously intimidated at the thought of being seated at a table full of wine experts and being forced into conversations about wine with them. So I adopted a strategy. Trophy wife. I was going to play the part of a trophy wife. Surely that would earn me some attention. Hubby could regale our table mates with stories about wine and I would charm the pants off of them by being the best dressed person and by making people laugh. So I went out and dropped an absurdly high amount of money on a sparkly holiday outfit, complete with new shoes and jewelry. Surely my lack of wine knowledge would go unnoticed!

It did go unnoticed. But not because of anything I did to divert attention away from my ignorance. But because wine lovers are really, really, really focused on their wine. And they don't really concern themselves with the fact that you can't contribute to the conversation, because they are happy to fill the void with the sound of their own wine-soaked voices. So I spent most of the meal in silence, a remarkably different scenario than most dinners I attend where I can't be shut up.

Still, dressing up is not something that a football-loving Springsteen fan gets to do very often. It's nice to get all dolled up for a fancy event once a year, even if it doesn't result in me being the centre of attention. So we keep going back. If for no other reason than I like to wear pretty dresses!

2013 dinner

2014 dinner - I don't know why I am squinting so much... This picture was taken before we started drinking all the wine...

And of course, there is the food. It is incredible. Where else would I ever try veal tongue pastrami. Yes, you read that right. And yes, it was delicious. This isn't a food blog, so I didn't take pictures of all of the courses so that I could describe them back to you in vivid detail. Just believe me when I say that no calorie was left behind last night. Even if I have to be in a bathing suit on the beaches of Jamaica in a mere ten-days time.

And you know what? Over the years, these events have actually become a little less intimidating. Partly because some of Hubby's knowledge is starting to rub off on me (but don't you dare tell him I said that). But mostly because those who know and love wine are simply very passionate people who love nothing more than to share their passion with you. They're not showing off. They're sharing their knowledge in the hopes that you will be as excited as they are and that you will find beauty in the sediment left behind in your wine glass just as they do. And when you finally accept that you don't have to be the centre of attention at each and every event that you attend, you can sit back, relax, meet some pretty fantastic people, laugh a little, and see a whole new and wonderful world unfold in front of you.

Oh yeah. And you can drink some damn good wine. Wine that tastes and smells like grapes. Damn good grapes.

Resolutions? They're not really my style...

Last weekend, my normally two-thirds-empty hip-opening-flow torture yoga class was packed. I couldn't salute the sun without hitting at least three people.

Hubby came home from the gym last Sunday morning, a generally quiet time, commenting on all the duos of brand new training buddies helping each other muddle through a workout using one strange machine after another.

Earlier this week, one of my colleagues left the office kitchen carrying a big ole' plate of lettuce for her lunch. With no dressing. And washing all those leaves down with water.

Yep. It's January. The month of self-improvement and resolutions. From spending less money to drinking less coffee to losing 5 pounds once and for all this year to vowing not to lose patience with the kids/husband/colleagues, everyone is making a resolution to be a better person.

I hate this time of year.

Okay. That might be a bit of an overstatement. I don't actually hate New Year's. The day itself is always quite lovely. One of my favourite traditions is hosting our annual Levée (a fancy word for open house), when all of our friends and neighbours stop by for some hair-of-the-dog and some made-with-love-by-me appies.

There is always too much food...

And cure your NYE hangover with another drink... or two...

And I don't actually hate being surrounded by all new people in my gym and in my yoga studio. Even though I almost got kicked in the head three times during last Saturday's yoga class. And even though I can't find an empty locker in the overly full gym change room. It's a great thing that people are joining gyms and yoga studios and getting more active. And besides, by February, most of them will be gone and I'll have room for full sun salutations again.

And I don't actually hate vegetables or eating healthy. See? This is an example of last week's lunch. Broccoli, celery, and even spinach hiding in my sandwich. Disgustingly healthy, isn't it?

No, it's not the day itself or the idea of new beginnings or the idea of being more healthy that I hate. It's the arbitrariness of January 1st as the day to decide to change your life. As though April 12th or July 27th or October 3rd weren't perfectly good days to decide to do something to improve yourself.

And so, I don't really make any big, meaningful resolutions at this time of year. 

It's not that I don't believe that I could be a better person. God knows that there are a million things that I could stand to improve about myself. For instance, I could stop nagging Hubby. I could stop eating so fast that I forget to breathe during ingestion. I could cut back on my wine consumption, even if Hubby is a sommelier. I could stop eating as much sugar as I do, even though I exercise regularly. I could be better with my money, and pause to consider whether I really need a 14th winter jacket before I drop a couple hundred bucks. I could clean my house more than once every couple of months (or at least hire someone to do it for me). I could stop procrastinating and use my time more wisely. I could be more patient, especially with my father-in-law. I could volunteer more. I could try to focus more on the positives in my day rather than the negatives. I could stop complaining. I could find ways to better manage my stress. I could...

...well, you catch my drift.

But ultimately, I won't resolve to do any of these things. At least not right now. Because, well, I don't like to fail. And of all the New Year's Resolutions that I have ever made - whether it be to stop smoking (something I eventually did in June, by the way) or to lose 5 pounds or to stop drinking wine on week nights or to be kinder to people - I've not succeeded in sticking them out much past January 23rd or so... And it feels awful when I cave. And I don't like feeling awful.

So instead, I like to focus this time of year on the things that I am looking forward to in 2014. Like:
- our family trip to Jamaica at the end of the month;
- our trip to Croatia later this fall;
- a new Springsteen tour likely to be announced any week now;
- my fifth wedding anniversary, which we plan to spend at the same winery where we spent our honeymoon;
- some key renovations we want to do to our house;
- more runs through the Arboretum with Fergus;
- more laughs with friends and family; and
- more yoga and gym-going and healthy-eating to continue to keep me strong and healthy and fit, even though I don't sleep nearly enough, carry far too much stress, and binge on too much sugar every now and then.

As for when I'll decide to stop nagging Hubby... Well, I guess that depends when he resolves to stop driving me crazy.

Swiss wine does not suck... And other neat things about Geneva

When I say "old world wine", what comes to mind? France? Italy? Spain? Perhaps even Germany, if you're into Riesling?

I am most certain that Switzerland does not come to mind. I mean, have you ever seen a bottle of Swiss wine at the LCBO (or "dep", if you're on the Quebec side)? Certainly, I haven't. And I spend a LOT of time in the LCBO. Hiccup!

No, the Swiss are not known for their wine. Neutrality, yes. Watchmaking, certainly. International financing, absolutely. Chocolate, without a doubt. And of course, yodelling. 

So when I learned that I was being sent to Geneva for a business trip, my first wine-related thought was "Woohoo!! I will have access to French wine at reasonable prices!" 

But then, during the long plane ride over, seated next to a man who could not stop snoring and who could not stop creeping over into my seat space (eeewwwww), I could not sleep at all. To fill the time, I read up on Geneva. And I discovered that the city is surrounded by picturesque countryside, some of which is occupied by vineyards. 

Admittedly, I was skeptical. Because, as noted above, I have never in my whole life seen one bottle of Swiss wine. It can't be that good if they don't even bother exporting it, can it? But then one of my travel guides assured me that the reason you could not get Swiss wine outside of Swiss borders is because it is so good that the Swiss keep it for themselves. Sarcasm, I wondered? I guess I would just have to find out. 

And so, I found myself drinking a glass (or four - hiccup) of Swiss wine each night during my stay. And it was delicious!

A glass of Swiss wine in my hotel bar. This was taken at 6:30 pm. I guess the concept of the "5 à 7" has not caught on in Geneva...

One of the few bars open on a Sunday, near City Hall in Old Town, where I took a moment to study my map and plan my touristy activities.

Now I do not have my husband's sophisticated sommelier palette. But I found every glass that I had to be wonderfully balanced, with a lot of fruit. My kind of wine! I liked it so much that I searched high and low for a wine store so that I could bring back two fantastic bottles to Hubby. (All I could find in the grocery store was a Swiss Gamay, and wine-snobby Hubby is not fond of Gamay. I assure you, though, that the Gamay was perfectly lovely, and paired quite nicely with the Pringles I took from the mini-bar... hiccup...). So now, we have two bottles of Stéphane Dupraz, a Gamaret (red grape exclusive to Switzerland) and a Scheurebe (white grape found in parts of Germany but that I've never seen before), purchased from a lovely shop in downtown Geneva called le Boulevard du vin. Which also doubles as a wine bar. Where I sat down and had a glass of Swiss Sauvignon Blanc. Hiccup.

Some other interesting facts about Geneva for the non-winos among you:

- Geneva is French-speaking, probably because it is a stone's-throw away from France. Literally. Depending on which side of the Geneva airport your plane comes in on, you are either going through French customs or Swiss customs. The Swiss side of this border is called "la Suisse romande." I learned this from the bartender at the Boulevard du vin (hiccup). When I asked why this and not "la Suisse française," he didn't know. But he did tell me that the nicest people in Switzerland come from the French-speaking region. "Sans doute!" I answered! 

- Also taught to me by this kind bartender, there are four national languages in Switzerland: French, German, Italian and Romansh. Never heard of that last one? Neither had I. It appears to be an old language, dating back to Roman times. It is spoken by very few Swiss today (less than 1% according to Wikipedia), but still considered a national language.  

Courtesy of www.wikepedia.org

- Geneva is an expensive city. Outrageously expensive. Someone told me today that it is four times more expensive to shop here than in neighbouring France. I can only assume that it is because Geneva is an international hub of bureaucracy. Although United Nations headquarters are now in New York, most UN agencies have retained a large presence here: the International Labour Office, the High Commission on Human Rights, UNAIDS, the World Health Organization. Geneva is therefore seething with foreign dignitaries. Who bring with them foreign money. And they have to stay somewhere. And eat too. So why not jack up the prices for everything?

- Despite the relocation of UN headquarters to New York City, UN history is deeply entrenched in this city. The above-mentioned agencies remain in Geneva. There is a hotel on the lakefront named after President Wilson, the tireless post-WWI defender of the UN's forerunner, the League of Nations (and yes, I am showing off my history degree). He could not muster support for the league back home in the US, but its legacy is alive and well in Geneva. There are monuments to peace-keeping and other human atrocities, such as land mines, throughout the city. The United Nations inspires pride in this city, and its role is highlighted on every tour of the city. If you are not a believer in the validity of this international organization, do yourself a favour and stay away.

A UN building waving the UN flag

A monument to the Bosnian conflict, and to the massacre of more that 8,000 Bosnian Muslim boys and men at Srebrenica

The Broken Chair, a memorial to the victims of land mines. Note that the chair is missing a leg

The President Wilson Hotel, named after the architect of the United Nations

A view from the University of Geneva campus of three flags: Geneva on the left, Switzerland on the right, and the United Nations in the middle. Just because.

- Being infamous for their neutrality, I would not have considered any Swiss city a hotbed of political or social activism. Yet some of the most controversial (for their time) thinkers are from Geneva, or have spent a considerable amount of time in Geneva. John Calvin, key player in the Protestant Reformation and architect of predestination - the doctrine that all events have been willed by God (yes, I am showing off again) - is from here. The greatest Enlightenment thinkers - Rousseau and Voltaire - called Geneva home. Even the trouble-making wife of Napoleon Bonaparte himself, the one and only Josephine, lived in Geneva for a time. I had no idea. But for a history buff like me, and one who has long admired Rousseau's Social Contract, discovering the intellectual prowess of this city has been fascinating indeed.

Monsieur Rousseau - the most famous Genevan thinker

The International Monument to the Reformation, or Reformation Wall, featuring the leaders of the Protestant Reformation. Figures adorn the entire wall. These four are: Theodore Beza, John Calvin, William Farel, and John Knox

The University of Geneva, founded by John Calvin

- I arrived in Geneva on a Sunday, and although I had been warned, I was still struck by how few businesses were open. No grocery stores, no shopping, and very few restaurants. The concierge at the hotel told me that it is because the city is "très catholique". Which means, I suppose, that Mr. Calvin's reforms, while historical, were not as widespread throughout the city as he would have hoped. Nonetheless, he did succeed in converting Saint-Pierre Cathedral to the Protestant cause. I know this because a plaque says so.  But I also know this because the pews have no kneelers, and no Catholic church would be without kneelers. Saint-Pierre is no Saint Stephen's of Vienna, that is for sure. It is a rather unadorned cathedral, making it (and I apologize to Genevans and to all the Protestants I know, including my husband), my least favourite European cathedral thus far. What can I say. The Catholic in me cries out for some adornment. 

Saint-Pierre Cathedral

The plaque commemorating the adoption of the Reformist doctrine by the people of Geneva

The front of Saint-Pierre Cathedral

A sure sign of Protestantism - no kneelers!

The pulpit at Saint-Pierre

The altar at Saint-Pierre

The stunning pipe organ at Saint-Pierre

- If you are interested in the history of the Protestant Reformation, there is a rather interesting museum, the International Museum of the Reformation, that is well worth the visit. 

- All the above said about the lack of wow factor in Saint-Pierre cathedral, Notre Dame Basilica, the heart of Catholic Geneva, is not all that much more stunning either. Maybe the Swiss just don't like grandeur? Still, the presence of kneelers, holy water, and a crucifix above the altar did make me feel more at home inside this cathedral than inside of Saint-Pierre. 

Notre Dame Basilica, right next door to the central train station. Hence all the cables.

Inside Notre Dame, with the pulpit on the right

Stained glass inside of Notre Dame

Kneelers. Even more Catholic is the fact that they are very uncomfortable

A close up of the pulpit in Notre Dame

The altar at Notre Dame

The pipe organ at Notre Dame. Not as imposing as that at Saint Pierre.

- Being from Manitoba, a province known for its abundance of lakes, I have a soft spot for a large body of fresh water. And Geneva is built along the tip of a rather large lake, Lac Lėmac. I thoroughly enjoyed running along the boardwalk to start out my every day - despite the quantity of rain that fell on me during said runs. These runs also offered a perfect view of "la Rade," a 140 meter jet stream of water that has become the unofficial symbol of Geneva, and to which tourists flock. If you enjoyed running through the sprinkler when you were a kid, you may consider taking a boat cruise of the lake and sitting on the top deck, where you are sure to be sprayed. A little advance warning would have been nice, boat captain. I'm just sayin'...

La Rade - taken from the boardwalk, with Old Town in the background 

La Rade from the upper deck of the boat, right before I get sprayed

My chariot for a cruise around Lac Lémac

A view of the shore form the upper deck of the boat

Homes on the shore of Lac Lémac. Not a shabby view from the living room...

Lac Lémac at sunrise. Gorgeous. 

Just a couple of other fun facts, I promise.

- There are doggie-poop bag dispensers every 3rd block or so. Despite this, there is dog poop on every sidewalk.  It is disgusting. And it made my runs more obstacle-course-like...

- Switzerland may be in the very centre of Europe, but it is not a part of the European Union. Why does this matter, you ask? Because they have maintained their own currency. The Swiss franc. You will thank me for this piece of news. You will not find yourself in the embarrassing situation in which I found myself, trying to pay my cab driver in Euros. Luckily for me, this particular cab driver lived in France, where cost-of-living is much cheaper, and therefore was only too happy to accept Euros. I, nonetheless, felt like an ignorant North American...

- There is some pretty good local beer brewed in Geneva. I highly recommend the pub called "Les Brasseurs", down near the train station. The burgers aren't bad either. 

Nice patio to grab a burger...

...ainsi qu'une bière blonde

- There is such a thing as a cycling race called the Tour of Britain. This has nothing to do with Geneva, I know. But I now know that such a cycling race exists because it was playing on the television when I went to the best pizza place in Geneva, Club Espresso. Where I had a pizza. And more wine... (Hiccup).

Now I know what you are thinking. "Jay, weren't you in Geneva for work? Seems to us like you had an awful lot of fun for someone travelling on business..." And yes, I promise that I was there for work. I spent two and a half very. long. days. in this building:

The World Health Organization (WHO)

With jet lag. I know. I'm a martyr.

But the nice thing about Geneva is that it is small enough, that two afternoons and a couple of evenings was more than enough time to discover the treasures that the town has to offer. So my advice to worldwide travellers everywhere - Geneva is more of a bureaucrat town than a tourist destination, but it is still worth dropping in. Probably a good one-day-one-night kind of a stop. The lake is splendid, and whether one is Catholic or Protestant, the rich religious history of the city makes it worthy of a visit. 

And then, of course, there is the wine...

Santé! (hiccup)

A guide to staycationing

I am currently on somewhat of an impromptu vacation. Because I am starting a new job in September, I decided to take some time off in between the old gig and the new gig.

The in-between-jobs vacation is the absolute best. No reason to stress about work that is piling up in your absence. No real idea of what you are walking into on the other side. There is truly nothing to worry about until you get to the new gig and find out just what it really is. Which makes for the best opportunity to truly clear your mind and relax.

Since I love to travel so much, I thought about taking a solo trip (Hubby did not have any more time off this summer). With Springsteen on a tour hiatus until September, I can't stalk him don't have any concerts to go and see right now. So I looked at other stuff. I've always wanted to go to San Francisco, and Hubby has no interest (weird, right?), so that crossed my mind. I toyed with the idea of throwing Fergus in the back of Rosie (the car) and taking a road trip down to the East Coast. And I contemplated travelling to D.C. to visit a friend or back to Manitoba to visit family. But everyone is complaining that it's been too cold and windy in San Fran this summer, I hate being in a car much more than an hour, D.C. is hotter than Hades in August, and I was already home this year to visit the family (love you, Mom!). So in the end, I decided that the absolute best way to unwind was to do as little as possible, as close to home as I could. A staycation!

After a week of staycationing, I now fancy myself an expert. And I want to share that expertise with all of you. So here you have it, my top ten tips for successful staycationing.

1 - Put that "to-do" list away!

Too many people waste precious staycation time by doing things around the house that need to get done. Like painting the spare bedroom. Or restoring that antique dresser you found at a garage sale three years ago. I say, put the paint brush and sand paper down! That's work, dummies! And you are supposed to be taking a break from work. Take a lesson from me. Here is the list of things that I have to get done at some point in time:

- pressure wash the deck;
- pick up the new lights that we ordered;
- return my cancelled EcoPass to OC Transpo;
- pick out a paint colour for our master bedroom;
- paint the master bedroom;
- bring Rosie in for a tune-up and a proper car-wash;
- price out contractors for replacing the carpet on the second floor with hardwood;
- make an appointment with the orthotics clinic.

And here is a list of items above that I have actually done this week:






That's right. It's a blank space. Because I haven't done any of that stuff! And you know what? I don't plan to either. And that's okay. Because I'm on staycation! Which is what I tell Hubby every day when he comes home from work and nags me about getting nothing done around the house.

That is one unused pressure washer...

2 - Read all the magazines

You know that pile you have that keeps stacking up and you never, ever, ever have time to read? And you look at it every single day and think to yourself, "Man, I have got to start reading these or else cancel that subscription!" Well don't cancel anything! Just tackle the magazines methodically during a staycation. I mean, what else are you going to be doing if you aren't crossing things off your "to-do" list? That's right, you are going to read-read-read. Whether your thing is celebrity gossip or hard-hitting news from around the world, pick up a magazine and thumb through those glossy pages. (Or slide your thumb across the iPad touchscreen - that's how I read them.) Get your magazine fix while you have time to do it!

And in case you are wondering, my pile consists of 4 back-issues of Vanity Fair and 2 of Modern Dog. Plus that big pile of Maison & Demeure that Hubby keeps insisting he wants me to flip through so that we can figure out how to decorate our dining room, but that feels too much like work for me when on staycation...

Tearing through some Vanity Fair

3 - Eat all the ice cream

I don't know what to say. I just really, really, really, really love ice cream. And so I have made it my personal mission during this staycation to eat as much of it as possible. Whether I make it myself or go out and get a big, honking ice cream cone or send Hubby to the grocery store to buy it for me, I have eaten an AWFUL. LOT. OF. ICE. CREAM. This will probably be a hard habit to break once the staycation is over. I may need ice cream rehab. Do they have that?

The ice cream maker getting a work out

4 - Exercise. But not too much...

I believe in giving your body a break just as much as I believe in giving your mind a break. So admittedly, I toyed with the idea of completely taking time off of all forms of exercise, save walking the dog.

Who am I kidding. That's my massage therapist talking. She thinks - and is probably right - that I have been overdoing it lately and that I should take some time off, or else she will continue to jab her pointy elbows into my glutes until I say "uncle". She's probably right. But since I am eating all of the ice cream, I need to do something. Or else I will grow out of all of my clothing.

So I've tried my best to taper. I've cut out lifting weights for a couple of weeks. And I've done a lot of yoga. A. LOT. Which is odd for me because I sortofkindofhateit. Luckily for me, I found a studio that I actually really like, just up the street in my 'hood - Yogatown. So I've gone almost every day. And now, when I fold foward, I can actually touch my toes without wanting to throw up. Yay flexibility!

I have also kept running. But I've committed to doing shorter and flatter distances. The operative words here are committed to....

There was that 8k run to Sandbanks Beach and back. But it wasn't my fault that it was 4k to get to the end of the beach. I had to run back, didn't I?

2k in + 2k of beach + getting back home = 3k more than I was supposed to run. Oops...

And it's not my fault that the cottage I was staying at is in the Gatineau hills, turning my mere 5k runs into glute-busting hill training sessions, is it?

Believe me when I say that this picture does not do justice to the steepness of this hill. And there were about six of them.

At least I could jump in the lake when I was done all that sweating!

Straight into the water with my running clothes on! That's gotta be therapeutic!

Okay, so how about this. Exercise as much, or as little, as strenuously or as moderately, as you want to. After all, it is your staycation. Just know that my massage therapist can rip into whatever ails you and fix you right up when you get back. She's awesome that way!

5 - Enjoy beautiful scenery

I took two mini-trips. One with Hubby and some other friends on the first weekend of my vacation to Prince Edward County, and one on my own into the Gatineau hills for a couple of days of vegging at a friend's cottage. Both involved:

- very little in the way of organized activities;
- extended periods of sitting (or laying) down and doing nothing;
- drinking too much wine; and
- eating too much food (including delicious ice cream).

In other words, they were perfect little getaways.

They were also in idyllic settings, offering beautiful vistas. At the risk of sounding all new-age-ey here, these sights were good for the soul. (Did I mention I was doing more yoga during this staycation? That's what happens... I get all zen on your assess...).

Prince Edward County

Sunrise in Prince Edward County. That's not Instagram, people. That's the real deal.

Cottaging in the Gatineau Hills. 

6 - Drink. Why not?

No trip to Prince Edward County would be complete without visiting a winery or two. After all, Hubby and I did purchase Huff Estates wine for our wedding celebration, and did mini-honeymoon at their beautiful Inn. So of course, we found ourselves back at Huff, where we could not help ourselves but to purchase their delightful rosé and their French style Cuvée. As next year will be our fifth wedding anniversary, and since we both agree that we don't want anymore bear-chasing adventures to celebrate, we also took the opportunity to book ourselves into the same room that we had on our mini-honeymoon. So next July 11th, there will not be a bear in site, but vineyards as far as the eye can see!

While touring around the County, we also discovered a craft distillery, Sixty-six Gilead Distillery (and if anyone knows how the heck to pronounce that, I would be grateful to learn. I was too shy to ask the owners, lest I show my ignorance...). I can't resist a good gin and tonic, so of course, I bought a bottle.

Vanna White-ing it up for the camera, and showing off my Loyalist Gin

And might I just say that it is delicious! Best damn gin I have tasted in a long time! So good that I am not whipping it out when I have friends over. I am keeping it all to myself! Same with the Rosé and Cuvée from Huff Estates. Sorry peeps. You get the "not-so-good" stuff when you come over to my place!

7 - Nap

Face it. We are a sleep deprived people. We have obligations: husbands, wives, dogs, kids, jobs, to-do lists, back-episodes of Modern Family eating up room on your PVR. We don't sleep nearly enough. So sleep, dammit! You've earned it. So what if it is only 2pm and there is ice cream to eat or wine to drink. Just close your eyes for a few moments, and let it take you where it takes you. Maybe you'll cat nap. Or maybe you'll do like me and spend two hours on a chaise lounge drooling all over your swimsuit. Who cares! Just nap. You'll feel so much better, I promise!

It's hard to snap a photo of yourself napping. But I did get one of the dogs napping. Right before I had my own little snooze.

8 - Go to the spa. A lot.

Faithful readers know that I dub myself a bit of a spa slut. At no point is this more true than when I am on a proper stay-cation. I mean, what else am I going to do if I refuse to touch my to-do list? Well, besides reading magazines and eating ice cream and doing yoga and drinking gin or wine and napping and running longer distances than I am supposed to.  Okay, so I'm a little busy doing all of these other fabulous things, but the point is that there is always room for self-improvement in our lives, and so we should always make time to go to the spa.

When I'm home, my fave place to go is the fabulous Forbes Beauty Co., a boutique spa that just opened in my neighbourhood and where I have decided to spend all of my money. So far on my staycation, I have had my nails done, my eyebrows done, a facial, and some waxing.

Perfectly sculpted eyebrows!

Why not blue nails - I'm staycationing!

(I'm not going to share pictures of waxing because this is a PG blog.)

And today, I am going back for a mani-pedi. Because I should look good for my first day on a new job, right?

(My god, I have a problem...).

9 - Spend quality time with (insert name here)

In my case, it's with Fergus. We've been inseparable this past week. Morning runs, casual bike rides along the river, leisurely afternoon strolls, fetch in the dog park. I even took him cottaging for the first time, where he hung out with me and a doggy pal. Unsurprisingly, Fergus loves the cottage. Although I couldn't get him to dock dive, and just barely convinced him to hop into the canoe with me (he is, after all, not a water dog), he did love zooming around the property, barking at boats out on the water, swimming in the lake, and sun-bathing during his afternoon siesta. I'm pretty sure that he wants us to get a cottage now. And who can blame him. It's a good life, as you can see by these photos!

Waiting at a construction stop to get to the cottage. (Notice the re-corked bottle of wine that I am bringing with me to the cottage. Waste not, want not.)

Puppies swimming

  

Looking out over the deck and contemplating life

My boys - Hubby visited for one day to read about wine and to nap

Surveying the lake from his perch upon the dock

10 - Write a blog post about your staycation

Why not? How else will you guys be able to plan a fabulous staycation of your very own?

You're welcome.