Summer living is easy, working…not so much

Ahhhh, summer. Just when we’d given up and thought it would never come to Vancouver, it finally did. Waking up to warm, radiant sunshine reflecting off the glorious mountains and the endless sea, reminded every seasonally-affected one of us, why we choose to live in a rainforest the rest of the year.

So the kids are out of school and refuse to go to anything that smells like structure and/or has a teacher, ie. summer camp. And since we spending our first summer in Whistler, we are devoid of playdates and babysitters. So, in the meantime, I’ve become a Denny’s, open 24/7, peanut butter & jelly sandwiches at the ready, squeezing lemons upon lemons for their lemonade stand for which I’ve not yet seen a dime (I swear they are drinking their profits!), wiping counters and sweeping floors to keep the ants at bay. On a daily basis, I’m fending off the inevitable, “Mom, I’m bored,” or “MOM! He hit me!” or “MOOOOOMMMMMMM! He farted on my pillow and won’t say sorry!!!” with encouraging words to work it out for themselves and large glasses of pinot grigio.

There is no time to workout, no time to shop, no time for a much needed pedicure, no time to write, no time for me. As lovely as summer is, I’m counting the days till I get my beautiful life back.


See you in September!
Love Lucie


Love + Appreciation = Best Mothers Day Ever

Chinese water torture is a method of torture in which water is slowly dripped onto a person’s forehead, allegedly driving the victim insane (source: Wikipedia) The rain has been epic in Vancouver this spring. The love-child of Vancouver’s coastal mountains and La Nina has made for a particularly endless winter. April showers have brought May showers this year and according to the Old Farmers Almanac, there will be no reprieve until September. While I wait for Expedia’s engine’s to find me a good deal to somewhere warm, I will try to warm your heart with my lovely Mothers Day Off.

My Mothers Day began on Saturday. We drove up to Whistler with a truckload of bikes, kayaks, rugs, and art. And then instead of being relegated to cleaning and unpacking, my husband sent me straight to the Scandinave Spa, a Nordic (read: outdoor) spa retreat for a massage with instructions to steam, soak and sauna “for as long as I’d like.” One fabulous massage, two big chapters and three hours later, I came home to a clean house, hubby’s famous BBQ’d ribs and the Canucks playoff hockey!

Sunday morning I was woken gently by my smiling boys and a gluten-free, low carb (!) breakfast in bed. The breakfast tray was festooned with lovely handmade cards that I will cherish forever. My oldest gave me a jar of statements that all begin with “I love you when…” that he told me to read whenever I get upset with him. Precious!

Soon after we hopped on our bikes for our first bike ride of the year. We found ourselves at the lovely Nita Lake Lodge that was holding a brunch to end all brunches – have you ever had grilled sunchokes and fried kale? YUM! Apparently, Nita Lake Lodge has stolen the sous-chef and half the staff from the acclaimed Bearfoot Bistro and it really shows! Well done!

After filling our bellies with omelets and mimosas, we jumped back on our bikes for a big ride that ended too abruptly when my 7 year old took a corner too quickly and had his bike skid out from under him, knocking his front tooth on the handlebars on the way down. We searched for 30 minutes, looking for a little tooth amongst the pea gravel, in vain. Unable to convince him to get back on his two wheeled horse, we headed back home.

The sun shone and the younger children napped, while my husband and oldest son took the kayaks out for their maiden voyage. I had one hour of complete peace and quiet and did some reading. Bliss!

Family hottub. And still no fighting amongst the boys. I’m not sure if they planned it that way, but that was the best present ever!

And then when I thought things couldn’t get any better, they took me to dinner at the RimRock Cafe. My favourite! I had the Wild Mushroom Risotto with fresh Grilled Vegetables with tomato, basil beurre blanc and I’m still salivating at the mere thought of it.

I share this not to brag though I guess it can’t be denied that I am a little. I share this to give my family their props and to let them know that I am grateful for the love and the appreciation they showed me on my Mothers Day Off. I know I’m a lucky mom. Indeed, some women get a sinkful of dirty dishes for Mother’s Day.

When I ask men what their getting their wives for Mother’s Day, some have the audacity to say, “She’s not my mother!” Agreed, but you still need to show your wife that you appreciate her for being your kids’ mother. You’d want that kind of husband for your daughter.

I love the saying, “the best gift a man can give to his children is to love their mother.”

And don’t forget, a happy wife is a happy life.

I’m so happy!
Love Lucie

Whistler: home of the 2010 Winter Olympics and many happy cougars!

Born and raised on the West Coast, Whistler feels like my backyard. I had my first kiss on a chairlift and the good times on the mountain haven’t ever stopped. I’ve rung in countless new years up there and had my bachelorette party there too. Anniversaries, family vacations, friends weddings, ski trips – the reasons to go to Whistler are endless. And now with the 2010 Winter Olympics legacy highway, I can get up there in 75 minutes flat!

I’ve travelled to many fabulous cities all over the world – London, Paris, Seoul, Tokyo, New York, Miami – but there is nothing like partying in Whistler! People from all over the world travel to Whistler to ski hard and party harder. Everyone up there seems to be on vacation from life and the energy is intoxicating.

With the weather hovering around the minus 18 degrees mark last weekend, my girlfriends and I decided to take our daily exercise indoors this year. Eschewing our skis and the necessarily unattractive balaclavas, we headed to Buffalo Bills. Bills is a long standing Whistler institution and our favourite place to dance the night away. We danced for more than 9 hours straight over our 2 day girls weekend (I think some of us secretly aspire to audition for Dancing with the Stars). We danced with a veritable United Nations of people – Scots, Swedes, Welsh, Aussies, Kiwis, Americans, Quebecois, liftees, locals, Vancouverites, hockey players, entire bachelor parties, and even women! My cheese and cracker dinner did not provide enough fuel for this dance-athon and by about 11PM, I needed a pick me up. Thanks to our friendly bartender, we discovered Jager Bombs, an absolutely delicious concoction of Red Bull and Jagermeister. 3 Jager Bombs later, I was still buzzing at 4AM and had to force myself to lie down, only to be woken abruptly by the morning train humming through Whistler Valley at 7AM. Red Bull really does give you wings, but so much for catching up on my beauty sleep!

As we were dancing with hordes (I’m not kidding) of appreciative younger men, we were struck by the fact that we were having way more fun than we’d had when we were single, footloose and fancy free. Now that we’re all happily married, it seemed a bit unfair that all these cute, six-packed opportunities would avail themselves to us. At one point, I was talking with a handsome, I-couldn’t-help-but-notice beefy young man, who told me he was giving up his hockey dreams despite being drafted by the Chicago Black Hawks to go to law school. My friends started laughing, thinking it a cheesy pick-up line (just as we had been telling people that we part of the Canadian bordercross team). But when I googled him yesterday, there his bio was. And I choked on my coffee, when I read that he was born in 1992!! At 42, I know my days at Buffalo Bills are numbered, but I’m going to savour every last delicious one of them.

I feel a bit like Benjamin Button, living my life in reverse. In my 20’s, I was a focused Working Girl, a la Melanie Griffith, working my way up the corporate ladder. I partied, but it was more about looking good and meeting qualified prospects to date. In my 30’s, I was a procreation/lactation machine and fun nights out dancing were few and far between. And if I did manage to get out and quaff a few drinks, I usually regretted them dearly the next morning. Now that I’m in my 40’s, dancing is so much fun because we don’t care who’s watching, we just give’r! And at Buffalo Bills, with at least 10 mountain men for every woman (Alaska eat your heart out!) it is a guaranteed good time!

Ironically, the best part about dancing with strange men all weekend is that you get all primed to see your hubby when you get home. Really, the hubby is the big winner in all of our girls weekends away. I become a happy wife again (which equals happy life, my hubby always says) with a boatload of memories that will keep me smiling through the next hundred loads of laundry. And I’m grateful that I get to sleep with my fabulous hubby, and no longer weeding through all those sweaty boys from around the world.

But still, it’s so much fun, I can’t hardly wait for the next one! And don’t even get me started on how much I love summer in Whistler!

Love Lucie


With friends like him, who needs more friends?


You gotta know when to fold ’em

I am a cougar. And a milf, or so I’ve been told. When the occasion dictates, I enjoy getting dressed up in clothes that enhance my ass(ets). I flirt with those 20-something dudes with a gusto that I never could have managed when I was in my 20’s. A happy marriage, kids, and alcohol all contribute to this gusto and I am proud of the attention (no matter how inebriated those boys are). However, as Kenny Rogers so aptly put it, “you got to know when to hold ’em, and know when to fold ’em…”

I was in Whistler this weekend with my love celebrating our 12th wedding anniversary. After a lovely 4 course dinner at the Rimrock Cafe complete with Moet, followed by a lot of Joie’s unoaked chardonnay and a Patron shooter, when we cabbed over to Buffalo Bill’s to dance off a little bit of that delish toffee bread pudding. The place was packed as per usual on a summer Saturday night, but we got in without too much of a wait. One of the things Bills is known for is the cage by the dance floor. There, 2 or 3 exhibitionists gyrate to the beat, ride up and down the bars and indulge in various pleasures much to the delight of the crowd. And while they’re not paid performers, they’ve got it and they want to flaunt it! Well this Saturday night was no exception, as the cage held 2 women on the backside of 40, attacking a man that bore strong resemblance to a very happy Lou Ferrigno. As I danced my way over to get a closer look at Lou, one of the women, pulled on the neck of her top and flashed her saggy boobs at me. Cougars gone wild!!

Similarly, readers of Hello! Canada were recently treated to a picture of Sophia Loren’s 74 year old guns, floating atop her black evening gown not unlike poached eggs swimming in hollandaise sauce and lots of cracked black pepper. Don’t get me wrong, I love the talented Ms. Loren and know that I don’t have a chance of looking one-half as good as her when I’m 74, but you can bet that I will have walked away from the decollete-baring evening gowns by then.

Love Lucie