A Midsummer Night’s Dream // Embracing the Solstice

In LIFESTYLE

Titania Sleeping in the Moonlight, Protected by her Fairies – John Simmons

The earth languishing in axial tilt, monuments glowing, heat and light and the bald face of the sun.

Summer, in all her loose and fragrant glory, arrives at the party.

These days, we eat strawberries in January and work long past dark, but there was a time when we didn’t think of ourselves as separate from nature, or above the influence of the seasons. Our internal lives are supposed to be consistent – we’re convinced we have to be the same person, with the same needs, throughout the cycle of the year. We tell ourselves we’re above the animals, as if indoor plumbing and a few trips to the moon could erase our base nature, the creature part of us that shifts with the seasons.

Midsummer’s eve remind us otherwise.

It’s almost impossible not to feel that symbolic weight, the mystical gravity of this long, long day. Our ancestors felt it, built pyramids and stone circles around it, wrote endless verses about it, threw bacchanals on it. The frenzy of solstice is undeniable, thick with life and magic.

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Shepherd’s Lunch // Fresh Ricotta

In EAT

The Wholesome Handbook - Fresh Ricotta

Ricotta is an optimistic cheese, a bucolic one, wet and springy and feminine. It’s a cheese you eat with olive oil or honeycomb on a hillside in the sun. It’s a poor man’s cheese, a country bumpkin cheese, a dish for shepherds and milkmaids and ploughmen.

The ancestors of ricotta date back to the bronze age, but the modern iteration is a lovechild born a thousand years ago in Sicily, when the island was under Arabic rule. Ricotta is gold wrung from wastewater – traditionally made from leftover sheep’s cheese whey, a literal peasant’s portion, an ingenuity born of necessity. The wealthy caught on eventually and claimed it for themselves, as they do, and ricotta’s current culinary rep is much more bijou than it perhaps deserves. Ricotta is, at the heart of it, wholesome countryside food, easy to make, easier to eat.

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Eat Your Heart Out // Steamed Artichokes

In EAT

Steamed Spring Artichokes - The Wholesome Handbook

The first artichoke was a woman.

A Greek beauty with fuzzy eyebrows and long black hair, heavy and slick with olive oil. The kind of woman who bathed naked in the ocean froth and loved to feel the grit of wet sand between her toes, the kind of woman who swam in thunderstorms and baked herself to a burnished copper on black rocks in the sun. The kind of woman with many lovers and many daughters. The kind of woman who loved, more than anything, to laugh.

Her name was Cynara.

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Travelogue // Abbotsford, British Columbia

In LIFESTYLE

Travelogue - Abbotsford - The Wholesome Handbook

Driving from Alberta to B.C. for a weekend visit with Andrew’s grandparents was like leaping forward in time. As we weaved around and over the Rockies on Highway 1 and the Coquihalla, the world shifted from a humble, budding brown to a raucous, lush eruption of green.

B.C. is a land of plenty. It’s crowded with dense hills and heavy clouds, and you can smell the ocean salt in the air. After 10 car-bound hours of podcasts, coffee, and rain, the eldest Reists welcomed us with their legendary Strawberry Birthday Cake, studded with saran-wrapped loonies, and we chatted long into the night.

Our first morning, we breakfasted on homemade raisin bread and blackberry preserves picked from the cemetery bushes across the street – does anyone feed us better than our grandparents? Afterwards, I managed to drag the boys out to the gloriously muddy Bloom Tulip Festival, and had to fight every one of my instincts to just lay down in the muck and roll around like a happy piglet. Spring makes me a little wild, but then again, I suppose it does that to all of us – Beltane has its reputation for a reason, after all.

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A Spring Mood

In LIFESTYLE

The Wholesome Handbook - A Spring Mood

I awoke this morning to rain.

Before coffee, before the sanctuary of the shower, even before the ghosts of last night’s dreams had slipped out of my mind, I had to feel it. I ran outside to the gray dawn in my robe and bare feet, and tilted my face up towards the sky, my husband laughing at me from the kitchen. God, it felt so good. I can’t even begin to tell you.

Rain. Not half-frozen sleet, not the tentative drizzling the sky’s been experimenting with lately – but real, relentless rain.

Later, wrapped in a shawl at the window, bitter coffee steaming up from the mug warming my hands, the rain turned to snow again. Spring is messy like that, especially in this place, this unpredictable land between the mountains and the prairies. But the white on the ground can’t erase the fact that for a moment, I had rain. Spring is here, and life is changing again.
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Travelogue // Banff, Alberta

In LIFESTYLE

Travelogue - Banff, Alberta - The Wholesome Handbook

Banff is a tourist town. There’s no way around it. The streets are sardined with over-bundled crowds toting cameras and rented skis, several different languages echo haphazardly off the pavement, and most of the shops will cheerfully command 10 bucks for a fridge magnet. Still, though, I can’t really be bitter about it. Every time we round that familiar curve on the Trans-Canada and the road opens up into the first blue valley of the Rockies, I think to myself – oh, of course. Of course people flock from all corners of the planet to see this place. Of course.

I never tire of the mountains. When I was younger, I’d imagine the white-capped ridges were the spines of great sleeping dragons, or visualize the thousands of wolves and bears and moose hidden in their dense, forested skirts. As I got older, mountains taught me of my own smallness. They taught me reverence. To this day, every time I visit them, I feel like I’m coming home. The dramatic slope of Mount Rundle, the rippled bulk of Cascade Mountain, the almost comical peaks of the Three Sisters – these are the faces of old friends. Heading to the mountains felt like a good way to start 2017.

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What I Read // 2016

In LIFESTYLE

What I Read in 2016 - The Wholesome Handbook

When I think back to my girlhood, I think of books. I think of words illuminated by the thin beam of yellow hallway light under the door, long after I was supposed to have been asleep. I think of laying under the shade of the giant poplar tree in my front yard, my arms pleasantly sore from hoisting the newest Harry Potter over my head for hours. I think of the looming, mysterious slopes of the glass-walled pyramid library near the shopping mall, and how my heart would flutter in my ribcage when I entered those doors. I think of the agonizing punishment I would receive for misbehaving – my books locked away until bedtime, and nothing to do but (o, horrors,) interact with the other neighborhood children.

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The WH Guide to 2017

In LIFESTYLE

The WH Guide to 2017

After years of maintaining thirteen small, tidy heart-shaped leaves, the old philodendron in the corner of my apartment has exploded into life. Her stalks divide and she unfurls a profusion of waxy new leaves every week, reaching her long arms into the room. She’s outgrowing her pot. She’s restless, I think, and so am I.

These days, I can feel a rumbling under my surface, like great tectonic plates crushing into one another at the beginning of the world, rearranging my lithosphere into something unrecognizable. But it feels good, this cracking and crumbling, this molten rock bubbling to the surface. To be honest, sometimes I just get so tired of softness.

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Things I Loved in 2016

In LOVE

Things I Loved in 2016 - The Wholesome Handbook

2016, by all accounts, was a bit of a dumpster fire. We lost Leonard Cohen, Alan Rickman, and Carrie Fisher. The United States voted in a terrifying fascist cheeto. The economy in my city is floundering, and everywhere, social and political tensions are high. But I need to be honest with you, dear reader – 2016 has been one of the best years of my life. It was the year I took control of my destiny, the year I learned to trust myself, the year of risks and rewards and rebirth. This year, I stopped engaging in things I didn’t believe in, and started to work towards telling my own truth. The year I decided to not allow anything but the best for, and from, myself.

I feel like a completely different person than that lost, world-weary girl from last December. She is almost unrecognizable. I’m still a bit of a mess, don’t get me wrong – but for the first time in my life, I feel a little like a grown-up mess. Like someone who knows what she wants, and has the stones to go out and get it. And it feels good.

So here are a few things that defined this transformative year – the things that inspired me, the things I was drawn to, the most important moments, my highlight reel – the things I loved.

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The WH Gift Guide // 2016

In LIFESTYLE

The Wholesome Handbook - 2016 Gift Guide

This year’s gift list is for the gal in your life with poetry in her soul. You know the one. The dreamer. The one with her head in the clouds and her feet (which are usually bare) only skimming the ground. The one with stars in her eyes. She’s always off in her own world, probably riding a celestial unicorn or something, but sometimes she touches back down to earth just long enough to make it onto your Christmas list.

This collection was curated to inspire her, spark her imagination, and to make her feel as pretty as Cassiopeia herself. There’s a bit of sparkle, some artisan charm, and I can’t believe it, but I’m disclosing my favourite under-the-radar antique place. Continue reading