Monday, March 16, 2026
#MicroblogMondays: Busy!
Friday, March 13, 2026
"Gimme a Crisis" by Howard Green
"Gimme a Crisis: In the Room With Global Banker Rick Waugh" by Howard Green, a prominent Canadian business journalist,.is not my usual kind of reading fare. But I had a special interest in the subject matter. Let's just say I am very familiar with Scotiabank, where Waugh spent his 40+-year career, as well as the events and many of the people mentioned in this book. ;) So when I heard about it last fall, I immediately added it to my reading list (and finally got around to downloading a copy and opening it).
If you're not interested in a book about risk management, Scotiabank, or Canadian banking generally (or even just banking, period), this might not be book for you. For me, though, it was a bit of a blast from the past!
The central theme of the book is that Rick Waugh, the personable CEO of Scotiabank from 2004 to late 2013, was a master crisis manager. (Author Green points out his father was a fireman -- perhaps a gift for putting out fires, literally and figuratively, ran in the family.) During Waugh's tenure as a top executive and, eventually, CEO, Scotiabank -- long known as Canada's most international bank, with broad global operations, particularly in the Caribbean -- experienced one crisis after another -- most notably in Argentina, the Dominican Republic, and the 2008 global financial meltdown (from which Canadian banks emerged relatively unscathed). The book also details other highlights of Waugh's career, including his role in bringing an NBA team (the Raptors) to Toronto, and advancing the careers of women at the bank.
Amusingly, there's a chapter (excerpted in the Toronto Star a few months ago (gift link) -- which is where I first heard about this book) about Waugh's encounter with Donald Trump (!), back in the 1980s when Trump was still just a real estate mogul, looking for financing for his next project, and Waugh ran Scotiabank's New York City office. (The bank did not take Trump on as a client.)
The book was maybe a bit long and a bit repetitive in spots. It occasionally lapses into financial jargon and dizzying explanations of complex financial instruments that made my eyes glaze over. ;) But overall, I thought it was very well-researched, well-written and entertaining, and that it rang true to my own personal experiences and observations about the bank and the man.
4.5 stars on StoryGraph, rounded (after some internal debate) down to 4 stars on Goodreads.
This was Book #6 read to date in 2026 (and Book #1 finished in March), bringing me to 15% of my 2026 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 40 books. I am (for the moment, anyway...!) 1 book behind schedule to meet my goal. :) You can find reviews of all my books read to date in 2026 tagged as "2026 books."
Thursday, March 12, 2026
A few odds & ends
- Tracey Cleantis Dwyer -- formerly at "La Belette Rouge" (a blog which no longer exists) -- has returned to blogging via Substack! Check out "The Next Happy Project."
- I highly recommend Tracey's 2015 book "The Next Happy," which is all about letting go of the life you had planned -- something Tracey, who is childless after infertility, knows a lot about.
- Disclosure: I'm in the book. :) I answered survey questions for Tracey as part of her research. I also reviewed the book on my blog not long after it was published, here.
- This Sunday, March 15th is "Mothering Sunday" in Britain, and The Full Stop community and podcast has published a post on Linked In with suggestions for "Navigating Mother's Day When You're Childless Not by Choice." (Also very applicable for Mother's Day in May, here in North America & elsewhere in the world.)
- It wasn't just our imaginations -- this winter really was as cold and snowy as it seemed, the Toronto Star confirms by looking at the historical weather data.
- The time changed last weekend -- and it struck me that my mother was no longer here to complain about it (as she always, always did!). Wherever she is now, I know it's a place where time is meaningless. Enjoy, Mom. :)
- This coming weekend (Sunday night) is the Oscars.
- I used to follow the Oscar races like a hawk (I even won the office Oscar pool once!), and tried to see as many of the nominated movies as I could (the ones that interested me, anyway). These days, I think I am only aware of "Hamnet" (with its ties to a well-known book and its grief/child loss theme -- not to mention Paul Mescal, lol), but not many of the other nominees.
- Mel recently posted about "The Last Movie I Saw;" I think the last one I saw in-theatre was "1917" (which was very good, and one of those movies that really deserves to be seen in a theatre). The pandemic began not long after that and, well, you know the rest. We used to go to the movies, perhaps not every Sunday, but usually at least one Sunday a month. Many things have returned to some form of normalcy since then, but we still haven't been back to the theatre. I am not sure how we got out of the habit, but we did. I do miss it sometimes.
- Nevertheless, I will be watching on Sunday. :)
- This will be my first Oscar night without my Mom. :( She always watched, and when I was growing up, she would let me stay up late -- on a school night! -- to watch with her. I more recent years, I would always call her before the show started (even though she hadn't been to a movie theatre in years either).
- I'm sure she will be watching from wherever she is now. And I hope there's a bottomless bucket of popcorn, and that it doesn't bother her stomach, as it did in her later years (to the point that she had to stop eating it).
Monday, March 9, 2026
#MicroblogMondays: Dark shadows
While we were chatting, Older Nephew's Wife mentioned to SIL that she was going to her cousin's baby shower the next day (Sunday/yesterday). Then I caught the ominous words: "...high-risk pregnancy... the baby is small... issues..."
SIL rushed to assure her that the doctors had told her Older Nephew was going to be a small baby -- and he was born at more than 8 pounds (and is now 37 years old and more than 6 feet tall).
Older Nephew's Wife wasn't sure exactly what the problem is, but she knew that it's a high-risk pregnancy, there are problems, and not simply a matter of the baby measuring small for dates.
I've met this cousin a couple of times -- a friendly, vivacious young woman, who bonded with dh over their shared love of the Pittsburgh Steelers. I asked what hospital she was going to have the baby at (ONW wasn't sure).
After that, I kept my mouth shut, and the conversation moved on to other topics.
I don't want to be the dark shadow, the voice of doom. And so often, these things DO turn out all right. Most people do get their ultimate happy ending.
But I'm living proof that sometimes (more often than most people think or want to imagine) they don't. And it's not an experience I would wish upon my worst enemy.
She will be in my thoughts until I know the baby is here and both are fine.
You can find more of this week's #MicroblogMondays posts here.
Tuesday, March 3, 2026
Accumulated odds & ends
- Have any of you seen the movie "Hamnet" yet, or read the book it's based on, by Maggie O'Farrell? I have done neither -- yet -- although I would like to partake of both. (For one thing, I think Paul Mescal is an amazing young actor.)
- An online group of loss mothers that I belong to were debating whether to see it or not -- drawn to the themes of grief and loss of a child, and yet wondering whether it would hit a little too close to home?
- I really appreciated the perspective offered in this post from Jennie Agg, who writes a Substack about pregnancy loss and grief called Life, Almost, about "Hamnet" the movie, and whether it's "grief porn" (as some are apparently describing it).
- **NOTE: there are spoilers about the movie, including specific scenes and how they unfold. Also, Agg has a living child.**
- Excerpt:
...for me, the film’s presentation of loss and grief is nuanced, considered, grounded in something true....What do we mean when we dismiss something as ‘grief porn’? I guess it’s implying something gratuitous, debasing, bordering on shameful.Which is interesting when you consider the way many bereaved parents today often describe being made to feel, shamed into silence: it’s too much, we don’t need to hear it.
- Anne Helen Petersen (childfree by choice) -- whose Culture Study community has moved over from Substack to Patreon -- has been giving a lot of coverage to infertility and childless/free topics recently. A couple of highlights (I'm not sure whether some of these may be paywalled?):
- A series of occasional posts titled "Big No-Kids Energy," about the joys of not having kids.
- Here's the kickoff post where Anne explains what the series is about.
- Anne has interviewed several childfree & childless people/couples for the series about their no-kids life. The most recent subject was Cathy, who is 60-something and childless not by choice, but making the most of things. She was a delight to read about. :)
- A Culture Study podcast episode featuring a standup comedienne, about being a "childless freak" (!) that will have you nodding! The comment section is worth a read too. :)
- An earlier podcast episode (from back in early February) about "The Heartbreaking (and Largely Unregulated) Business of IVF." A lot of what's discussed would not be surprising to many of us, but it might be an eye-opener for people not intimately acquainted with the fertility industry.
- I made a comment that's received the most "likes." In part, I said:
One point I will take exception to: the comment that "IVF works! -- it's very effective." IVF is still (almost 50 years after the first IVF baby was born) very much a crapshoot. Your odds of success might be better if you're in your 20s or early 30s -- and/or if you have the money and stamina to endure multiple cycles -- but once you hit 40, they drop like a stone. There are many of us out here who went through infertility treatments and did not wind up with a child. You just don't hear about us. Clinics certainly don't want to acknowledge our existence, and patients currently in treatment don't want to hear about us either.I would also add that most clinics are abysmal at providing emotional support & counselling to their patients going through treatment -- and even less is available for those of of us who aren't successful. Even a referral to an outside counsellor, or a pamphlet listing resources we might consult would be helpful. Any support I got was entirely the result of my own research.
- Carrie Hauskins, who is childless after pregnancy loss and infertility, writes at Blooming With Care about the matter of "Heirlooms for No One" -- dealing with things from a childless aunt, as well as wondering about her own stuff after she's gone (something I think about a lot, especially as my childfree sister & I go through the painful process of emptying out our parents' house...). Excerpt:
I told her we weren’t having kids, and when she said I could pass down her things to my children, I didn’t correct her. She knew the truth. And she still gave me her things. If she didn’t want to believe that her lineage of items will end with me, that’s her problem to work through, not mine. She was aware that I’m a dead end in our family's genealogy....Legacy used to mean what I would pass down to my children. Today, it means deciding what to do with the ring once I melt it down. It might not mean the same thing five years from now. But for today, I think of my kooky aunt and her curmudgeonly way of life. I might not inherit her moods, but I do love the quirky jewelry. I do plan on having an eccentric estate sale. One that people line up for early in the morning and wraps around the block. Would my aunt love that? Who knows? It’s my legacy.
- Katie Dunn at Afterglow (childless after infertility) ponders a question that doesn't get enough attention --"IVF doesn't work for everyone. So when do you stop?" -- and explains her own process for making that difficult decision.
- Katie Hawkins-Gaar at My Sweet Dumb Brain writes movingly about grief, nine years after her first husband's death: "The Grief Math Changed This Year."
- "Anyone Can Be an Auntie. It’s a State of Mind," proclaims a New York Times Magazine article by Maya L. Kapoor.
Monday, March 2, 2026
#MicroblogMondays: Childless & motherless
It's been two months now since my mom died suddenly on New Year's Day -- and I'm still trying to absorb the fact that she's no longer here and I'll never see or speak to her again. :( (I think I'll still be trying at the end of MY life...)
A comment from Carmel in Australia on this recent post got me thinking... and I've been mulling it over ever since then...
We all know on some level, that we're going to lose our parents someday. It's something that most of us will (sadly) experience in our lifetimes. And when your parents start getting up there in age, you know that that day is coming sooner versus later.
But there's still nothing that quite prepares you for the reality and the suddenness of when it happens.
(Even when you're there WHEN it happens, as I was. One minute, I was conferring with my mom about dinner... less than five minutes later, she was on the floor. Gone. As I've said to many people since then, I fully expected to get a phone call about a fall down the stairs -- fatal or otherwise. I did NOT expect things to unfold the way they did, and I certainly did NOT expect to be there -- after all, I'm usually not! It totally sucked to be present and to see her like that -- but I am also so very glad that I was, for my dad's sake...)
And I've been wondering whether the loss of a parent/parents resonates just a little differently for those of us who are childless?
I consider myself pretty well-versed in the basics of grief and loss and how to cope with it while keeping your sanity reasonably well intact. I've been leaning heavily on the lessons I learned 27 years ago after the loss of our daughter (as well as my grandparents shortly after that, and other loved ones in the years since then), as well as mourning my childlessness, and the loss of any other children I had hoped to have. .
It's one thing to come to terms (on at least some level) with the knowledge that there will be no children or grandchildren, no descendants to pass along possessions and memories and stories and values to. No one to provide support to us in the same way that we've supported our aging parents.
It's one thing to realize there will be no further branches on my particular limb of the family tree to document and chronicle.
But it's quite another thing when the older generation directly above us -- the ones we've always looked to for support and guidance -- begins vanishing from "above" us, too -- and suddenly, WE become the "older generation."
In many ways (to the casual observer, anyway), my life went on the way it always had after the loss of our daughter, and the eventual realization that there would be no other children to follow. But the loss of my mom -- who has always been there my entire life -- changes things in some pretty big ways (as will the eventual loss of my dad).
Even though I've been living 1000 miles away from my parents for the past 40 years, I always knew they were THERE.I may not have seen them more than a couple of times during the year, but all I had to do to talk to them was pick up the phone.
Now Mom's not there (and never will be again). And some day (sooner than later), there will just be my (childfree by choice) sister and me, from my family of origin. And possibly someday, just me. The house that I thought of as "home" for the past 42 years (even though I only actually lived there with my parents for one year, before I was married) -- full of old, familiar things that have been part of my life for decades -- will likely be sold later this year, and the things divided up among my sister, my cousins and me, or sold or given away. My dad is planning to find somewhere else to live (something my mom fiercely resisted while she was alive) -- still locally, but something much smaller, in a more communal, seniors-friendly setting. There may not be room for us to stay there when we go to visit, which means we'll either have to stay in one of the local motels, or we'll have to gather at my sister's house in the city.
"Home" has been a recurring theme in my life -- the question of "where is home?" In a lifetime of moving around, "home" was where my parents were. I have a home with my husband now, of course, but I still say "I'm going home" when I'm heading west to visit my family. My mom had a similar strong attachment to "home." Even though the house she grew up in was torn down almost 30 years ago, and even though my grandparents have been gone for more than 25 years, and even though she hadn't lived in the town where she was born and raised since 1960, and even though the number of friends & relatives left there has dwindled in recent years, she still thought of her hometown as "home," and loved to go there. Her passport expired earlier this year, but at Christmastime, she was still talking about wanting to go "home" for a visit, and wondered whether her U.S. birth certificate would be enough to get her across the border (and back again using her Canadian citizenship card).
Mom's funeral reminded me of just how precious it is to be surrounded by people who share your memories and experiences... not just parents and children and siblings, but extended family members and friends too. And also of how many of those people aren't here any more either (or won't be much longer). After my grandfather died, whenever we'd have trouble coming up with a name or relationship or some other detail from the past, one of us would say sadly, "Grandpa would know...!" And of course, Grandpa was no longer around to consult. :( Likewise, I was trying to remember an incident from my childhood the other day, something I knew my mother would remember -- but I can't call her up and ask her any more.
When I did call home, I would talk briefly to my dad -- and then he'd hand the phone over to Mom, who would regale me with the latest news from her wide circle of friends and relatives. I miss that -- and I find myself feeling curiously cut off from those people I used to hear about through her (although of course there's nothing preventing me from calling them myself... I've just never been in the habit). I spoke with several of my cousins at the funeral -- some of whom I haven't seen in 20 years (and not all of them are on social media, either) -- and I've texted a few others since then, and we've been commenting that we all really need to keep in better touch. We've never really HAD to before, because we'd hear about each other through our parents.
Because I'm not the only one who's lost a parent in recent years, of course. In recent years, Mom lost one cousin after another, many friends, at least half of her school classmates (a tightly knit group who keep in close touch) and, two years ago, her younger brother and only sibling. After she died, various people offered to spread the word among the surviving cousins on both sides of her family -- and when I thought about who needed to be notified, I was struck by just how few of them were left. Of the 12 first cousins on Mom's mom's side (including Mom and her brother), only 5 remain, and most of them are in their 80s now. On Mom's dad's side, there were once 27 first cousins; now, there are just 7 remaining. The youngest is 75. (There were still a lot of phone calls to make, though...!)
(My dad has lost just one of his six siblings -- my oldest uncle, who was in his early 90s when he died a few years ago. Dad, at 86, is the "baby brother" of the family and has one younger sister in her late 70s. The other three siblings are all in their 90s now. My own first cousins range in age from mid-40s to late 60s.)
I mentioned that Mom's childhood best friend (and the matron of honour at her wedding) came all the way from South Dakota for the funeral. As we were chatting afterwards, she made a casual remark about "Grandma N" (Mom's maternal grandmother) -- and it hit me: of course this woman would have known my great-grandmother (who lived with my mom's family -- or rather, they lived with her, in her house! -- and died in 1951, when my mom was 10). And there are so few people left who do, and who could tell me about her, first-hand.
Later that evening, one of my own closest childhood friends (also one of my bridesmaids) stopped by to see us (en route home from ANOTHER funeral for one of her own extended family members!). Although it was 10 years since we last saw each other, and we aren't often in contact in other ways, we always just pick right up where we left off -- and we did. We know each other so very well, and there are so few other people who have known me for so long and so intimately that I'm still in touch with.
There are very few people here, where I live now, who know me and my family the same way these friends and relatives do. Dh's family will listen politely if/when I talk about my family, and my experiences and memories of growing up -- but I know these stories don't really interest them and don't resonate with them in the same way they would if those people and those memories were part of their story too (just as the stories and memories I share with them don't resonate in the same way when I talk to my parents and sister about them).
And of course, I have no children to bore with my stories! (But most parents still tell them anyway, right?)
And yet -- as I've mused in the past -- you never know just who will remember you, or how.
There were lots of lovely tributes to my mother on the funeral home website -- but I was surprised to find one on Mom's obituary on the city newspaper website, from the daughter of my cousin who passed away before Christmas. She wrote:
Aunty D. was an integral part of family events. Always there, busy with cleaning or putting more food out or getting in the thick of conversations happening around her. She always took the time to ask those deep questions and really wanted to understand what was going on in your life. I have fond memories of spending close time with her when I would babysit my cousin and she made me believe I can do great things with my life. I’ve also always wanted to learn how to play piano because of her. She will be remembered and cherished.
I've only ever met this young woman a handful of times, when she was a child, and I had NO IDEA she had interacted with my mother to that extent, or that Mom had had such an impact on her. (Mom could not play piano -- but she appreciated it when other people did!)
I can only hope that someday, some younger person will remember me in the same way.
You can find more of this week's #MicroblogMondays posts here.
Sunday, March 1, 2026
Right now
Right now...*
*(A (mostly) monthly series/meme. Explanation of how this started & my inspirations in my first "Right now" post, here. Also my first (similar) "The Current" post, here.)
For a short month, February was a LONG month! (It has long been my least-favourite month!) It included 23 consecutive days of sub-zero temperatures (which began in January) and lots of snow, (more than we've had in quite a few recent winters) -- although it did warm up briefly, mid-month (with temperatures hovering just above zero -- which triggered snow mixed with rain, sometimes freezing rain...!).
On the personal front, I am still struggling somewhat to get back to "normal," after my mother's death on New Year's Day and an unexpected full month away from home. (Perhaps related to or adding to this feeling of abnormality/being out of routine, I binged on the Olympics for two solid weeks. ;) )
And the month ended in disappointment when Little Great-Niece's birthday party was cancelled at the last minute, because she was running a slight fever the day before. :( (To be rescheduled, possibly for next weekend.) Better safe than sorry, I guess (remembering Little Great-Nephew #1's birthday party in November, which became a super-spreader event...!). But we've hardly seen anyone all month long, and we were SO looking forward to it (dh especially). :( (At this rate, the great-niblings will get their Valentine's Day goodies for Easter...!)
Spring can't come soon enough...!
Some of the things I/we did this month include:
- Bought groceries and takeout pizza slices or soup for lunch at the supermarket (Feb. 2nd, 9th, 16th & 23rd).
- Walked and shopped at the local mall (Feb. 3rd, 10th, 17th & 24th).
- Went for brunch at a new restaurant, using a gift card a friend sent me for my birthday (Friday, Feb. 6th). (See "Eating," below.)
- Browsed and picked up cards & other things for the great-niblings at the bookstore (Feb. 6th, 11th & 25th).
- Had lunch at BIL & SIL's with Younger Nephew, his wife and Little Great-Niece (Feb. 7th). Between sickness and the holidays, we hadn't seen Younger Nephew & family since Little Great-Nephew #1's birthday party in mid-November (i.e., almost three months!). That's the last time to date that we've seen anyone from the family, including BIL & SIL. :(
- Stopped at the drugstore to pick up prescriptions, en route home from doing other shopping (Feb. 11th, 23rd & 25th).
- Went to the bank (Feb. 25th).
- Crooked Adam by D.E. Stevenson, together with my DES fan group. (3 stars; my review.)
- "You Are Here" by David Nicholls (the April selection for my Childless Collective Nomo Book Club; previously read in 2024 and reviewed here). (4.5-5 stars; my review)
- "The Four Graces" by D.E. Stevenson, prior to the upcoming readalong/discussion with my D.E. Stevenson group (original 2015 review here). (4 stars; my review.)
- "The Queen Who Came in From the Cold" by S.J. Bennett (Book #5 in the "Her Majesty the Queen Investigates" series). (4-4.5 stars; my review.)
- "Gimme a Crisis" by Howard Green. Currently 13% completed.
- "The Four Graces" by D.E. Stevenson -- re-read/readalong/discussion with my D.E. Stevenson group, which began Feb. 23 and will conclude in late April/early May. Original 2015 review here; most recent review here. (Currently 12% completed.)
- "Childless: A Woman and a Girl in a Man's World" by Fabiana Formica. This one is beautifully written, but slow going, and I was reading it (or trying to...!) at Mom & Dad's last summer, where there were a lot of distractions. I've put it aside for the moment to focus on other reading priorities, but I've completed 33% to date.
- "L.M. Montgomery and Gender," an essay collection edited by E. Holly Pike & Laura Robinson. Slowly working my way through, in between the other books...!
- For my Childless Collective Nomo Book Club:
- "The Safekeep" by Yael Van der Wouden (March). (I read this one fairly recently, last fall, and will likely not revisit it, particularly since I'm not leading the discussion.)
- (Books for May & onwards to be determined...)
- For my D.E. Stevenson group:
- (Next books still to be determined...)
- Footnotes and Tangents slow readalongs for 2026 include:
- "Midnight’s Children" by Salman Rushdie (January–March). (I'm not taking part in this one.)
- "Regeneration" by Pat Barker (April–May)
- "The Inheritors" by William Golding (June)
- "Treacle Walker" by Alan Garner (July)
- "The Children’s Book" by A.S. Byatt (September–December)
- "The Bishop's Pawn" by Steve Berry
- "Barren" by Byddi Lee
- "Murderland" by Caroline Fraser
- "The Other Side of Now" by Paige Harbison
- "Finding Your Roots" (season 12) on PBS, Tuesday nights, which began in January.
- The Winter Olympics! (Constantly! lol -- for two full weeks!! -- figure skating in particular, although I found myself watching all kinds of sports.)
- Heardle Decades: (as of Feb. 28th)
- Heardle 60s: 73.9% (874/1182, 350 on first guess), down 0.1% from Jan. 31st. Max streak: 20.
- Heardle 70s: 75.2% (696/925, 388 on first guess), down 0.7% from Jan. 31st. Max streak: 18.
- Heardle 80s: 41.6% (325/782, 114 on first guess), unchanged from Jan. 31st. Max. streak: 5.
- Heardle 90s: 33.5% (296/883, 78 on first guess), down 0.5% from Jan. 31st. Max. streak: 9.
- NYT Connections:
- As of Jan. 31st, I had 535 completed games, won 89% of them, including 283 "perfect puzzles," including 16 where I got the most difficult/purple category first (unchanged from Dec. 31st). Maximum winning streak: 45 (unchanged). Current streak: 12.
- By Feb. 28th I'd played 563 games and won 89% of them, including 300 "perfect puzzles" with zero errors, including 18 where I got the most difficult/purple category first (an increase of 2 since Dec. 31st). Maximum winning streak: 45 (unchanged). Current streak: 12.
- We've been trying to eat healthier and lower our cholesterol -- and avoid having to take (more) medication -- since some less-than-stellar bloodwork results for both of us in fall 2024 and then again (for me) last November (2025, as mentioned in November's Right Now post). I'm supposed to repeat my bloodwork in the spring.
- I ended February 0.2 pounds heavier than when I started -- could be worse! Overall, I'm down 14 pounds since late October 2024 -- close to my lowest weight in quite some time -- and down 26 pounds from my heaviest-ever weight (in August 2021). (Dh has gained a few pounds since Christmas, and is currently down not quite 18 pounds overall since fall 2024.)
- We went for brunch at a new restaurant (Feb. 6th), thanks to an old friend who sent me a gift card for my recent 65th birthday and as a pick-me-up after my mom's death. Dh had an omelette and I had scrambled eggs with bacon (served crisp, as I like it!). The ambience was lovely, the service was friendly and relatively prompt, and the food was hot and tasty, with generous portions. (The potatos, in particular, were excellent!) We will be back!
- We also indulged in takeout pizza slices or soup from the supermarket, once or twice a week, for lunch and/or dinner. Saturday night takeout dinners included teriyaki rice bowls from the supermarket, rotisserie chicken (baked potato on the side for me; fries for dh) from Swiss Chalet, and California Sandwiches (which are NOT exactly healthy, but delicious! lol).
(A few regular categories dropped this time around, because I couldn't think of anything to write for them, and I wanted to get this posted!)



