OUTDOOR RHONDI REFLECTION

Beauty day at the cottage!
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 20th, 2017

Like the majority of Canadians, last weekend I celebrated the Family Day long weekend. Though I spoke with each of my children more than once electronically, it was my fur babies that received the bulk of my attention, as the 4 of us spent most the weekend outside. 

To compliment that, as I do quite often when I have some time to myself, over early morning coffee last weekend I reflected on what I had going on this time last year; the year before that and so on. 

If you don’t relate to the concept of keeping an electronic journal you may find my next point a tad odd to fathom. But I love the fact that I have a accumulated a snapshot in time of what I've had happening in the last few years of my life. A wee titch creepier is that I remember my general mindset with regards to 99.9% of the things I have written about, as well as whom/what I've addressed. Not because my OCD trumps my limited writing skills but simply because most of my posts have an extremely personal element attached.

Some appear as simple quirky stories, yet most have an underlying theme that either masks the pain I was feeling when solidifying my thoughts, or that typing out and posting my thoughts helped me release the stress associated with a specific situation; ultimately allowing me to let the angst go.

Believe it or not, the funniest ones, were the most emotional to write. As I sit back and look at where I'm at personally, today, at this point in time, I am shocked how I have evolved since I posted my first offering on November 20th, 2011.
(CLICK TO READ: Here We Go!)  

The first few years were essential to me finding out where I fit. Not in a 'square hole/round peg' type of scenario, rather a 'what was I meant to do when I grow up' sort of crossroad. All these years later, though I may have grown exponentially as a person, I still have questions... and some of them are absolutely ridiculous. 

At the end of the day, I guess I am sharing that I have finally come to terms with the fact that I march to the beat of a different drummer. Though I will admit I have discovered that no matter how hard I try to change things about my persona and I am unable, that drummer and I will always strive to understand why.

As I pack up the pups and head for a sleepover at the cottage my mind will wander with all the different dummers that have inspired me. Let's see: Phil Collins, Don Henley, Neil Peart and most definitely Levon Helm. Oh ya, mustn't forget that one armed dummer Rick Allen from Def Lepard.  His is the voice in my head that confirms I will never let others judge me for my choices.

Because, ultimately, they are MINE!

GUESS WHAT? I STAND CORRECTED!

Well, it’s hard to believe that exactly a week ago today, I was headed back up the 400 highways to Muskoka after they’d been hammered by snow; and I’d been experiencing a similar but different kinda action by the pool, by the ocean, and wonderful stage lights of the resort shows I attended.

Relaxin' & chillaxin' on the beautiful Cuban sand.
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 11th, 2017

Jokes aside, though we gals sipped and walked, sipped and swam, whilst ending our days sipping and singing, there were never any out of control (nor expressing any silly impaired judgement) moments. Just some serious relaxation and a lot of fun. The truth of the matter is that most of our entertainment came from watching others storm & perform.

Imagine a 300lb football player, impaired, in a banana hammock: doing the moves from Dirty Dancing (including the lift) with his very intoxicated man friend. Bat shit crazy, hilarious and by far my most entertaining afternoon spent by a pool, EVER.

So, here’s the deal. As you've read, I had some serious reservations about my trek. I was fine with the shortened timeline because I had no idea what I was signing up for and I had a contingency plan in place for their food.

Well, exactly seven days later, I will go on the record that I stand corrected. I was a complete bonehead. Everything about Cuba was amazing. So great in fact, that my focal point about the food being lackluster was moot.

Quick flight, only 15 minutes on the bus to the resort, and sand beaches like no other I have ever been blessed to walk. I met a lovely couple from Halifax, a great couple of ladies from Winnipeg, and even someone from my hometown that noticed us walk by our very first morning by the pool. Rooms were clean, staff extremely accommodating, and the weather was perfect. I think the even bigger shock to my system is that I would most definitely return. Once again, for a quick long weekend next February.

What can I say? When I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong. The other side of the coins is what Confucius say… Two wrongs not make right, but two rights make U-turn. Right the hell back to Cuba!

Who’s in for February 2018? All, are welcome... I’ll bring the peanut butter & ketchup!

CAYO COCO, CUBA
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 2017

MY CUBAN SURVIVAL KIT

Well, I am sad to report that it's with the least amount of enthusiasm EVER that I packed my carry on travel bag last weekend. Not because I'm long in the tooth about getting away, rather the simple fact that I've never had any type of wanderlust fantasies about jetting off to Cuba for the weekend; yet I am.

If I were to be completely honest, I think I'm pouting. The original plan was to head to a condo in Grand Cayman for the weekend. When timing on that unexpectedly changed, Cuba seemed like a good way for my daughter (to get her first) and I to get a new passport stamp without breaking the piggy bank. Was I wrong. Last minute at a 4.5* resort in Cuba was bat shit crazy pricey. I didn't care. As this mini vaycay was always going to be a very personal one.

Personal or not, I suspected I was cooked when my Travel Counsellor refused to candy coat exactly what I was paying for. "The beaches are beautiful, the service amazing, and the people are some of the nicest you'll ever meet..." Then she added... "When it comes to the food? It is, what it is. You will probably be disappointed." 

Always one to look for a solution rather than dwell on the problem, I figured there must be an easy way to make it through my 3 day weekend in Cuba. So, I decided to create a Cuban Survival Kit. It doesn't contain a Spanish/English dictionary, water purification tablets, an epipen, nor a signaling mirror should I lose my way.

After a careful assessment of our personal party planning needs, my survival kit officially includes three very critical things: Heinz ketchup, French's mustard and just enough Kraft smooth peanut butter to make a girl smile. (I also have some salt, pepper, and herb flavours stashed in my makeup bag.)

Once again, I am leaving on a jet plane. This time packing a survival kit.
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 5th, 2017

Though I know many other items are needed, two of my three survival items are extremely important. The first two will make my poolside/beachfront BBQ dining experiences a gastronomical delight. The third, the Kraft peanut butter, combined with any type of bread, at any time of the day, shall produce a rub-a-tummy-yummy feast in the 'I am hungry' department. Here's my plan...

When in Cuba: Soak up the sun. Embrace the culture. Hydrate, yet lose weight.

Wow, you'd almost think that was a Jenny Craig endorsement!

Nope, just 3 amigos on a very personal mission... with me seeking a new passport stamp. 

PLEASE CHECK YOUR MILK CARTON...

 Cheers to my newest Brit friend June...
Cozumel was amazing.
So was my very first margarita!
TAKEN: DECEMBER 3rd, 2016

Has your life ever gotten so busy that you've lost track of who you really are? Well, I am sad to report that I honestly feel that scenario has officially happened to me. Gobsmacked to admit it, all I can manage to type is... What the freakin' hell is going on!

Here's the skinny. Unbeknownst to yours truly, in the last year and a half, I've somehow evolved into an ultra conservative schoolmarm. I may have always been lacking on the adventurous side when it came to risk taking, but schoolmarmishness (my new word of the week) has never remotely been an option. To make matters worse, I've always envisioned myself being the one in the old age home embracing sarcasm and telling jokes filled with sexual innuendo; or so I'd thought.

What I do know is that my very new to me condition became polarized about six months ago. I remember it well because there was a very specific moment in which I realized that I had evolved into a completely different person than the one I'd worked the last five years to discover. Then, my heavyhearted worry came full circle with the sharp realization that I was suspiciously comfortable in authentic knee length pantaloons whilst sporting little makeup and bad hair in public.

Yup, it was in that very moment of downtown comfort that I realized what I'd transformed into & that there needed to be some serious changes made quickly. Comfortable albeit still in a state of disbelief, I frantically went from store to store around town checking milk cartons and the missing person photos on side. Sadly, though there have been a couple of reported sightings of the good ole me, they have been few and far between.

The good news is that my analysis tells me that there were glimpses of me on my last trip to Mexico. It also tells me that returning to the harsh December Muskoka tundra, had me immediately revert back to searching for those comfy pantaloons quicker than Donald Trump lies. It's true, my reversion was  instantaneous. As a result, I decided to take another kick at the 'rediscover my identity' can.

Next weekend I am leaving on a jet plane for a girlz getaway. It's only for 3 nights but it is the first time in my entire life that I am hopping a plane and I am not completely burnt out. There will be no overthinking and most definitely no schoolmarmishness happening. Just a conscious effort to regain a personal starting point whilst basking in the Caribbean sun.

As you can imagine, last minute this time of year can be expensive. Here's hoping when on my rediscovery mission I find myself on a local milk container and haul my pantaloonless ass home. I have to say, it would be great for their carton stats to have rescued another one.

...To which I would always be grateful.