The Best Kept Secret Blog - The Ultimate Bond Girl

My friend U. tells me the Dutch have a word to describe a certain type of midlife woman I remember from my youth.

A flink woman is someone who's solid, substantial and dependable.

Good natured and hard working, she's the kind of woman you turned to when you had to plan a funeral, sew 25 shepherd costumes for the school Christmas pageant or needed someone to speak with Aunt Doris about her wee drinking problem.

Every culture and group has their own version of this woman.

Coming from solid Ukrainian immigrant stock, the the flink women in my life had muscled arms, short, tightly permed hair and smelled faintly of bleach, sweat and cheap perfume. They never ventured far from their kitchens lest an emergency arise that required them to make a ham or some head cheese in a hurry.

Even within groups whose ancestors have been in Canada for more generations than we can count, it's easy to spot the rigid postured, no-nonsense, "have a good cry then get over it" kind of woman who knows how to set things right when life goes off the rails.

These were the unsung heroes of our youth - the midlife women who did what they had to do.

Then, there are us.

We were raised as the "me generation" and in midlife we're still spending a disproportionate amount of time on "me" vs. "we".

There are endless examples.

Time that might have previously gone to caring for our family and community is now spent on our upkeep. From hair to nails to Botox and filler, we're slavish in our devotion to maintenance.

Yesterday's flink woman spent little time fussing over her appearance. Who cared about a fuzzy upper lip when grandma needed to get to her podiatrist appointment.

She had no time for cut, colour and highlights and instead made-do with a box of Lady Clairol that worked it's magic while she ironed some towels.

Few flink women worried obsessively about gaining a pound or two as a little cushioning was a tribute to her cooking prowess. The few "princesses" who even gave it a thought simply took up smoking to keep those extra pounds at bay.

For today's 40- and 50-something woman, it's all about starting over and midlife reinvention. We applaud the stories ("I was a stay-at-home mom but now I'm a circus performer. Juggling the kid's schedules really prepared me for this new role.") and dream of our own transformations.

There seems to be little glamour in being solid as a rock when one can be climbing one instead.

I suspect the flink woman felt the same restless desire for something new just as keenly as we do. But she kept it manageable, occasionally perplexing her family with a sudden interest in learning to drive, getting a job at the corner drugstore or wearing pantsuits.

As the flink women in our lives enter their sunset years, the torch will soon be passed on to us. I suspect we'll put our unique generational spin on this life stage just as we have on career choice, motherhood and all the other rites of passages we've been through to date.

Instead of making dainty sandwiches and squares for the PTA tea, we'll be hitting the Tim Horton's drive through for a large box of crullers.

When a sad passing requires us to plan a funeral, you won't find us picking out hymns and selecting the flowers. We'll be planning a touching farewell complete with words of comfort plucked from Internet blogs and a Facebook group for the dearly deceased.

And when our elderly mothers need us to get them to the podiatrist, we'll be there for them - hiring the best elder care service we can afford to ferry them to and fro.

I'm not sure what the flink women will have to say about how we handle things but there's one thing I'm pretty certain of. They'll be finding Aunt Doris and asking her to pass the bottle.

The Best Kept Secret Blog - The Month of Living Frugally - Day 6 - Shut Up and Eat Your Macaroni and Peanut Butter

Extend newly embraced frugality habit to food preparation and grocery shopping.

Step One - Take Inventory and USe What You Have
A quick glance of pantry contents reveals forgotten, yet yummy, items that surely can be fashioned into nutritious family meal.

Crack open a bottle of wine and set about dinner preparation. One hour and two and a half glasses of Merlot later, proudly announce dinner is served. Top up wine glass and take my place at the table, ready to bask in family's praise for being frugal and creative.

Family, however, appears to see things differently and is not buying into the notion that re-heated pork dumplings left over from previous year's Chinese New Year celebration are an appropriate accompaniment to bananas and feta cheese. Nor are they swayed when I point out how, since all the food groups are represented, they're about to enjoy a balanced meal.

Husband removes my wine glass on his way to phone for pizza.

Step Two - Shop At A Discount Grocers
Bypass high priced organic food market in favour of discount food store located in somewhat seedy part of town.

After spending two futile minutes trying to detach shopping cart, kindly immigrant man demonstrates how to insert a quarter in order to unchain a cart. Spend another futile two minutes searching for change. Eventually give an old lady a five dollar bill in exchange for the cart she's returning.

Shopping experience is positive and even I can see what that prices are much lower than at high-priced chains. Decide to stock up on sale items to save even more money. Begin throwing dented cans of tomato soup, bok choy and cases of yogurt into my cart with reckless abandon.

Feeling virtuous, I arrive at the check out. Cashier asks me how many bags I'll need. Bagging own groceries saves store workers time, cuts costs and allows store to pass savings along to customer. Very good.

Hmmm. . . .but how many? Scanning purchases laid out on the conveyor belt, I recall that spatial problems are not my strong suit. Request five bags and hope for the best.

Begin packing items and almost immediately run out of bags. Try to get cashier's attention in attempt to buy more bags but she's starting her break and is heading outside for a smoke. Receive angry glances from next customer who is waiting for me to finish. Pile items loosely in cart and head for the car.

Step Three - Plan Meals
Determined not to let new stock of yummy ingredients go unused, prepare nutritious family dinner with items purchased earlier that day. Family sits down to first course of soup, followed by steamed bok choy and yogurt.

Lesson Learned: Planning and shopping wisely go a long way.

The Best Kept Secret Blog - The Lazy Woman's Guide To Midlife Reinvention

With all due respect to Oprah, the life coach industry, and my overly-enthusiastic friend Y. who keeps insisting I live an "authentic" life, I'm beginning to think this midlife reinvention stuff is strictly for the birds.

It sounds simple enough in theory. Relying on the wisdom and experience that comes to us at midlife, we take a leap of faith and pursue our deepest passions. Armed with little more than faith in ourselves and a copy of The Secret in our hands, we go forth expecting good things to certainly come our way.

And let's be honest - after decades spent raising kids, climbing the corporate ladder, and living with the same, predictable man, who among us isn't ready to shake things up a bit?

Aiding and abetting us is an entire industry that has sprung up to support our ventures. From books to videos to weekend retreats, there is no shortage of charlatans - oops, I mean professionals - lining up to tell us how to get to the next big thing in our lives.

At 47, I've ploughed through my fair share of reinvention attempts. From the would-be crafting business ($700 in supplies yielded three scarves, one sleeve and zero sales) to the "youthful and playful" hairstyle my new stylist talked me into (he goes by the name of Jean Paul but I prefer to think of him as Edward Scissorhands on Speed), I've tried diligently to reinvent myself but sadly, never quite made the grade.

Reflecting on my failures to launch, I believe I've learned a thing or two about the awakening that comes at this stage of life. As a gesture of support and solidarity for the midlife women who might be reading this, I'd like to pass on some thoughtful advice to make your own midlife reinventions go just that much more smoothly.

The Lazy Woman's Guide To Midlife Reinvention

1. It's more fun talking about reinvention than actually reinventing.
The planning stage is by far the most rewarding part of the process. What can beat long, contemplative walks, detailed list making of our strengths and interests and endless discussions with friends over dinner about hopes, plans and dreams?

Play your cards right and you can remain in this stage indefinitely.

2. Don't write a book - read a book.
For those of you who dream of penning the great Canadian novel, try reading a book instead.

Most of us are so busy that we barely have time to read a book. Wouldn't it be a challenge just to start one and finish it in a reasonable amount of time?

And I'm not talking about the dry and slightly depressing Canadian literature your book club insists on reading because it makes them feel intellectual. I'm talking about a good, juicy, Chick Lit read that you can't put down, even if it makes you feel slightly dirty when you're done.

3. Forget being a Cougar, chasing sexy, younger men. Go after the old guys instead.
Not only is the competition less stiff, older men are much easier to catch. I mean come on - which 40-something woman among us can't outrun an octogenarian in a wheel chair?

4. If you're itching to start a business, keep things on a small scale.
Sure we hear about the success stories but if the truth be told, most businesses fail within a year or two of start-up.

If you really must scratch your entrepreneurial itch, might I suggest taking a cue from all the mompreneurs of Generation X. Create a simple product and market it from the comfort of your own home.

I, for one, am waiting for some enterprising midlife woman to invent much needed products like Flash Memory Cards to combat those embarrassing short-term memory blips that come with middle age.

5. Skip the makeover - just get rid of your mirrors.
Like the proverbial tree falling in the forest, if we're not able to see the effects of aging, are they really happening?

Why spend thousands on Botox, fillers, a new hairstyle and wardrobe? You're still the same, wonderful person inside that you've always been.

The Best Kept Secret Blog - The Month of Living Frugally - Day 3 - It's Like Sending A Recovering Alcoholic To The Bar

Popped into mall to pick up Thank-You notes at card shop.

Eschew convenient parking spot close to card shop entrance in favour of parking at opposite end of mall. Sadly [What's the emoticon for sarcastic, eye rolling smirk?], am forced to run the gauntlet of women's clothing stores en route to card shop. Steel myself and make silent promise not to enter any store but the card shop.

Half way there am stopped in tracks by the most beautiful pair of boots I'VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE displayed in shoe store window. Feeling slightly fevered and with trickle of drool now running down my chin, I enter shoe store in dreamlike state and ask friendly clerk to bring me a pair in size 8.

As I wait for her to return with the most beautiful pair of boots I'VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE, I push away the creeping sensation of guilt and begin rationalizing why these boots are not an impulse buy but a necessity. Fortunately, just when I'm getting stuck at the part about why I need more boots when I already own six pairs, the sales clerk returns empty handed.

They don't have my size but she can phone another store and have them sent in. I know a reprieve when I see one. I tell her no thanks and flee the shoe store before I can change my mind.

Clearly, I've dodged a bullet.

Lesson Learned: Cut out idle browsing.

The Best Kept Secret Blog - The Month Of Living Frugally Day 1 - Good Mothers Spend Money

Eldest daughter, an avid reader, is out of books, library is closed and unless I buy her a new novel immediately she will read vampire series Twilight for the seventh time.

Mentally debate which is the lesser of two evils: A) Being a bad, "not-exposing-child-to-enough-culture" kind of mother and risk creating undead-worshipping pre-teen goth girl; or B) Falling off the NO IMPULSE BUYING wagon on Day One and rushing to Chapters in search of uplifting reading material - hopefully Heidi or The Bobbsey Twins.

Decide allowing her to read the vampire series the six previous times alrady qualifies me as a bad mother. Cull closet for black clothes I can pass on to her and add "garlic" to my grocery list.

Lesson Learned: Kids don't have to have the latest and greatest.

The Best Kept Secret Blog - Engine Shampoo, $352.00 - Sipping A Latte At The Honda Dealership, Priceless

It's hard to say what the tipping point was - the final seduction that drew me in and caused me to abandon all reason.

Perhaps it was the chocolate sprinkles for my latte. Or maybe it was the knowing looked that played across the car jockey's face when he took my keys. But whatever it is, I'm hooked and there will never be another. I'm taking my car to Honda for servicing for the rest of my life.

To understand my devotion you must first know my history.

When I was young and foolish my cars were serviced by fast talking, two-bit mechanics with names like Gus and Nick. Their auto yards were always on the wrong side of town and I only went there out of need, I tell you.

In their dingy grey overalls, cigarettes dangling from their mouths, they'd force me to back my own car into the service bay, knowing full well I sucked at backing up, that I might accidentally fall into the oil pit at any moment.

Then I'd wait in a cramped office decorated with pictures to Miss September until they came to tell me that sure, the oil was changed but if I didn't get the engine shampooed immediately, there would be hell to pay - that there was no guarantee whether I'd live or die if I drove on the highway with a dirty engine.

What did I know? I was a young, innocent girl and their words dazzled me. "Manifold" they'd whisper. "Carburetor" they'd purr. Before I could stop myself I was forking over cash so they could add anti-freeze in July.

But it all changed the day the new mini-van drove into my life.

It was different from all the rest - new and shiny and it came with a warranty.

It was a classy kind of car - not the kind of vehicle you take to the local repair shop. Nahh, nothing but the dealership would do for an auto like this.

My first oil change with the van was like nothing I had ever experienced before. I think the earth moved.

Cute young men in khaki pants and matching windbreakers met me at the doors to the service bay. While one took my keys another guided me to the reception desk. When I confirmed I had an appointment and recited my license plate number they beamed at me like I had just solved the cold fusion puzzle.

After they slipped me a buzzer to tell me when my van would be ready, they guided me to the waiting area. Once there they showered me with free coffee, Internet access and all the piped in music I could handle. I was in love.

I know they're always looking out for my best interest. Why just last week when I went to have my oil changed they suggested that maybe I should have the engine shampooed and I said, "Yes, yes, yes". I trust them - they know what I need.

Engine Shampoo, $352.00 - Sipping A Latte At The Honda Dealership, Priceless.