REMEMBERING 2019

Most Significant Moment: 

The unexpected and very tragic passing of my sister in law Pamela Peacock.

She passed October 28th, 2019 and was only 39 years old. 

Pictured here in the middle, may this beautiful face, forever rest in peace.

My year in the rear view!
TAKEN: Throughout 2019

January:  My renovation project 'Popcorn Ceiling Begone' got underway. It lasted three months and the next floor gets underway again in January 2020. 

February: Spent an amazing week walking the miles of beach in Cayo Coco, Cuba.

March: My Spotti Dotti and her best friend by the bonfire. (Her very favourite thing to do!)

April: My birthday trip to New York City. It was amazing having my son as my tour guide and seeing Billy Joel at Madison Square Garden.

May: Took a Mommy/Daughter weekend trip to New Orleans, Louisiana. Here she is on Bourbon Street!!

June: My beloved Toronto Raptors won the 2019 NBA title.

July: The very difficult decision was made to allow Dot to finally sleep easy and rest in peace.

August: Spent the majority of this month and next living with the pups at the cottage. The solitude was exactly what I needed.

September: Played hostess for our company's bi-annual team building fishing trip on the west end of Lake Nippissing.

October: Was sickened by the entire federal election campaign bullshit that took place.

November: During my week long vacation I hiked to the top to the El Faro Lighthouse in Mexico

December: A whirlwind month that finally slowed down on Christmas Eve. Marking, what will hopefully be, a couple of new traditions.

Bullet points aside, this past year had me dealing with serious illness, the loss of several cherished loved ones, as well as a fur baby. 

I think a combination of all of the events is why now, more than ever, I am going to try not to focus my energy on others that aren't going to enhance my personal life and my loved ones around me for the better. 

As I have written here before, I believe sometimes all people need is a hand to hold, an ear to listen, and a heart to understand them. I think that is going to be my motto for the next year and surround myself accordingly.

Welcome 2020. 

Let's make it one of the best ones yet!

BOOK-A-BOO

As a child I remember my mother being a collector of books. She had hundreds of them which now reside with my brother. My sister’s a bookworm as well. She went as far as to begin writing one. I don’t fit into either of those categories.

Though I love to read a good novel I rarely find the time. I will admit one of my favourite pastimes is to spend hours upon hours trolling the aisles of a local two story used book store called The Owl Pen. I've never read the last page the way Hollywood hypes it as an option, rather find myself fixated in a section reading the backs forever searching for a specific fit.

As a busy working mom, spare time was never plentiful. So, since the children were small, I’d always make time to read when we’d travel. Because there was five of us, we usually drove to South Carolina for Easter week. 

The twins were about two when I started reading a grand total of four books a year. Two in the mini-van on the way there, and two on the way home.

With the kids grown and gone, nowadays I tend to only make it into The Owl Pen the Saturday before I get on a plane; and a few times each summer to stock up my bookshelf at the cottage.

Just like my favourite pair of fuzzy socks, I know what I like and I want what I know. Therefore, I and never venture very far away from good non-fiction and a handful of writers of fiction I like.

So you can imagine my shock (when on vaycay in Mexico last month) a passive aggressive electronic friend backhandedly 'book shamed' me via text message.

Check out my sexy bookmark & killer tan in process on the bottom left!
TAKEN: NOVEMBER 26th - DECEMBER 3rd 2019

When I shared that I was excited to read the new Nicolas Sparks book, they countered with ‘my girls use to like to read him when they were in high school’. Inferring that I was stuck at a school girl level of reading?

Though there were several jabs before this one and several other reasons why, suffice it to say I haven’t sent a text message since. Yet, as I curl up next to the fire I can't help but reflect. You know, I truly feel Hemingway said it best with... ‘there’s no friend as loyal as a book!’

I wonder if Jane Austen or F. Scott would concur? 

FORTY FOUR

Well, it’s December 28th and I only managed to post here forty four times this year. Sadly, twenty six of those ditties were pretty much a cheat effort by yours truly to complete my annual April A-Z Blogging Challenge.

You’d think after all these years I might finally evolve past writing about my neurotic quirkiness, but the truth of the matter is I just renewed my web domains for another couple of years, so that’s a definite NO! 

I do love this creative process, but suppose the bigger share is that 2019 wasn’t a banner year for me. Spare time and whimsy wasn’t something I had a plethora of, which I suspect is all a part of the aging process happening around me.

What 44 actually looked like!
TAKEN: DECEMBER 2009

Who am I kidding, I’m not getting older. I’m simply entering a classic era. That said, I will admit I was  a tad surprised last month, when the 'were not getting any younger' age card got played to me at work. 

I realize the time ticking away is a constant reminder that I’m getting older. But the other side of that truth telling tarot card is that I don’t look, nor feel old. 

For years I’ve joked about ‘Freedom 55’ but have never really given it much thought to what that might look like; guess it’s time to start.

Let’s face it, I don’t think I’ll ever retire. Just like I’ll never sell my house or cottage property with lots of stairs, simply because I’ll always want something to work toward.

I know I’ll always be active and outgoing unless I do in fact fall and break a hip – in which case, I know I'll be grateful for the digital revenue entity I’d built. Allowing me to comfortably lay in bed and heal, whilst continuing to finance my obsession with travel .

I’m not joking. The consummate planner and goal oriented entrepreneur I am, will always have me working toward something new on my horizon. It’s like I can’t help seeking out a challenge and reaping my well planned rewards.

As I begin to search for photos for my year in review post for the eve of a new year,  I find my mind reflecting with wonder what 2020 will offer. The one thing I know to be true?

No risk. No reward. With a solid caveat that I hope to lose at least 20 pounds!

Thanks again for reading.

MY MARTIAN!

My martian and I at the top of El Faro with the Port of Mazatlan in the background.

TAKEN: NOVEMBER 30th, 2019

Apparently, what happens in Mazatlan, doesn’t stay in Mazatlan. It returns to Canada as a gastro-intestinal bug that lingers and gurgles for the better part of two weeks!

Aside from that, I managed to make it home unscathed. Thankfully the weather cleared and a half decent suntan was achieved.  A couple of books were read and our flight home was both comfortable and uneventful; just like the rest of the week away.

I’m sorry. I didn’t intend for that to read ungrateful. I’m very grateful. But this destination was different than any other we’ve ever visited. This trip’s the very first time that I felt uneasy in my resort surroundings. So much so that I didn’t like to walk anywhere alone; and I am VERY independent.

For example, even though it was one of the nicest beaches we’ve stayed on, and I absolutely loved swimming in the Pacific, we returned to our room immediately after dinner in the evening and only ventured off resort once.

Where we took the Colectivo (public transit) in Mayan Riviera, we decided to hire a Pulmonia driver to tour with us for the day when we ventured into the city. The little more than one hundred dollars Canadian was money very well spent.

The driver was a result of us being warned, after we arrived, that the people in this area of Mexico have a preconceived notion that all Canadians are extremely wealthy; and therefore you are always a possible target. 

You can imagine in a resort as large as where we stayed (almost 800 rooms) and only a handful of occupants being Canadian, just how small a presence we had. It was intimidating and frankly quite scary.

Anyway, home and settled with yet another passport stamp, I have to admit that the core of the city that caters to tourism was absolutely stunning. I have scads of amazing photos that I will be able to reminisce over for years to come.

That said, once we were home and settled, my husband began searching the cost of month long rentals on the beach where we stayed. Which made me stop and wonder.

What did he misunderstand about my verbalizing my fears and witnessing how sick I got? And how will we manage to stay married spending our early retirement winter months apart?

Once again unequivocally proving that my man is definitely from Mars.

Because this here cat?

Ain’t NEVER goin' back!