N IS FOR NOTABLE

 

A reminder of an important notable...
As my travel buddy hubby takes in
the views from the top of El Faro, Mazatlán
TAKEN: DECEMBER 2nd, 2019

WE BOUGHT ANOTHER BOAT

Well, we unexpectedly bought another boat. 

It will be our fourth motorized vessel in the twenty plus years we have owned Orillia Lake. It wasn’t a planned purchase but one we both agreed on. It is a twenty-foot Doral bowrider; in absolute mint condition with less than 100 hours of total motor use time.

Feel free to help us name her!
TAKEN: SPRING 2023

Greatful that Cousin Jim (rear seen here, with his grandson on the rod) decided to upgrade!
TAKEN: SUMMER 2023

The first few years after our cottage purchase, we got by with a five-seater paddle boat, a row boat, and parasailing board the kids could dive off of. Ultimately, the first motorized boat we bought was an older SeaRay waterski boat. 

We bought it to encourage our kids to want to stay at the cottage more often. It turned out, we would float with the pups in the middle of the lake so that I could read a book in the sun and never used it for much more than that. 

Wrought with mechanical issues, we ended up giving her away to a friend of a friend as we were tired paying to have her repaired.

Our first...
TAKEN: JUNE 2010

Next, was our beloved Bessie Bowrider that we paid a whopping $300 for... and the trailer was included in the price.

Her saving grace was that her previous owner was a mechanic. Sure, she would take in a wee bit of water through the week but nothing a ShopVac couldn’t remedy. The pups loved her.

Spottie & Puddin' rocking Bessie bow rider!
TAKEN: AUGUST 2014

A neighbour kept the road open a couple of winters ago, and she was stolen from the end of our driveway. Not wanting to invest in another, we replaced her with Stella the floating picnic table - which is propelled by an electric trolling motor.

Always a conversation piece on the lake, our bubble as well as the pups were grateful for Stella during Covid. 

Spending the afternoon on Stella
(l-r: Miya, Goob, Mac, Annie, Cappy-T, Puddin')
TAKEN: AUGSUT 2022

Now, we know better than most, that this (new to us) bow rider is far larger than we need, but our final decision to buy took multiple things into consideration.

Though older, it has been babied and has only had one owner. We know for a fact that they could have sold her online for far more than we are paying, but a good home was one of their personal criteria. That, combined that it is a familial sale made the price so good, we couldn't refuse.

Lastly, our decision came from the fact that we know that we will eventually be selling the cottage (not sure when but it will be sold) and this boat will keep us and the pups touring the amazing lakes in Muskoka for years to come.

To be honest, it isn't the $3,500 price tag that concerns us, it's the price of fuel to get her off the dock. 

So grateful we already own a killer trolling motor!!

#yagottalaughaboutit

F IS FOR FRIENDSHIPS

There are a lot of people that have opinions about social media. Some embrace it too freely, while others wear a tin foil hat to ward of the evil of it. I guess you could say that I fall somewhere in between.

Anyway, back in July 2007 I connected via Facebook with one of my oldest brothers' best friends. 

Though growing up I was nothing other than the annoying little sister, as adults, I was happy to find someone that effectively wrote for a purpose and shared their thoughts with the masses just as I do.

It didn't stop there, I loved experiencing the travelling he and his wife did together, and each year I looked forward to his annual Christmas countdown of song offerings on his saxophone. 

Once his countdown started, I found myself logging on from my desk at work to see if he'd posted yet. Such great fun.

Then, via Facebook, I saw he and his bride were heading to his old stomping ground (where I still live) for the weekend for our Fire and Ice Festival this past January. Trouble was my hubby and I were headed into the city for the concert in Toronto that Saturday night. 

After a quick exchange, I was excited to discover that they would be in town the night before and wanted to get together for drinks. I hadn't seen him face to face since my fathers funeral in 2005 (and only knew what his wife looked like via Facebook).

Anyway, that Friday, he kept me posted on their timing. They'd eat dinner with friends in the centre of town and we'd plan to meet at a local pub later in the evening. Goob lives just down the street, so I invited him to come meet his uncle J's childhood friend.  

My husband (in red) really didn't know what to think of this group of extroverts!
TAKEN: JANUARY 27th, 2023

Well, suffice it to say, we closed the place. Walked them to their hotel, then walked ourselves home.

In this instance, though social media reunited electronic friends and turned them into new friends. Our evening confirmed that face to face friendships are the best ones to appreciate. 

#MyTwoCents

ELEVEN YEARS YOUNG

Happy Eleventh Anniversary to US!
TAKEN: 1976

 

Allow me to share a photo my mother took of me outside our home in Muskoka when I was eleven years old. Oh to be able to celebrate being eleven years old again. 

Wait... We can. Because today is the eleventh anniversary of my wee electronic journal Ya Gotta Laugh About It. 

If you are reading this, I am both pleased and grateful to report that you are helping me celebrate my nine hundredth and seventy fourth effort since I began this ride on this day back in 2011.

Can you believe it? Eleven. Freakin'. Years!

All these years later, I am honest when I admit that the offerings I have posted are truly a part of me. Yet, I'm not quite sure what made me realize my anniversary was looming. Very in tune with my seasonal affective disorder, I'd probably put gobs of cash on the time change. 

As you know, the darkness of the month of November and into December have always had me crawling into the closet, throwing a blanket over my head, with a bowl of warm gravy and a spoon; specifically, so the dogs would join me. 

Some of the funniest items written had tears steaming down my face. Not of joy, but because in most cases I was processing a deep hurt and moving forward. For those that know me personally  (rather than just words from a keyboard that you're reading) you know that humour has always been my go to attitude in deflecting hurt.

That said, these eleven years have produced so much great dialogue, not to mention life changing friendships. 

I am grateful for all of you that have inboxed me with your comments, opinions, as well as your unconditional support and feedback over the years. It's truly been a cathartic experience arriving at today

To each and every one of you peeps... A very heartfelt THANKS!

Happy 11th anniversary to us!!

S IS FOR SMARTIE

One of my best friends passed away on Easter Sunday. Though we were separated by thousands of miles, we spoke on the phone at least once a week. He was mere fifty six years of age.

My avid readers will recognize his name as well as his photo, as he has appeared in several journal posts over the years (even has his own label). All very raw and still in shock, I am struggling to deal with the loss. 

As a result, I have decided to share what his oldest and dearest childhood friend "Howie" posted for him on the exact day my letter S was due. 

I think it paints a perfect picture of this wonderful man. The words brought me to both tears of laughter as well as deep sadness. Words can not describe how much I will miss him.

Rest in peace Smartie. Keep my seat next to you warm and your wit razor sharp....Until we meet again.

Love you always xoxo ~ Rhondi

I miss my buddy

He’s gone.  That’s what his ex-wife said to me when I answered the phone the evening of Easter Sunday.

All who knew Brian entered a new world in that moment.

So far, that world is one of shock, disbelief, boundless sadness and equally boundless gratitude; feelings all common in the wake of the loss of loved one. The shock, disbelief and sadness will settle.  The gratitude for all he brought to my world, will remain forever.

His laughter was matched only by his ability to make others laugh.

At the end of grade 7, we went on a class camping trip to Bass Lake Provincial Park.  As far as we could tell, our teacher, modeled his classroom management style after Joseph Stalin. From the perspective of a bunch of dumb, gangly 12-year-old boys, he was mean.

The camping area was a large, rectangular field. Perfect to ensure boys tents lined the perimeter of one side, girls on the other.

In line with our teacher’s overall approach, there was a seemingly endless list of rules. Among them, very precise direction as to when all were required to be in tents and very ominous threats of consequences if not.

As 12-year-olds we had yet to develop much in the way of foresight and probably worse, we had yet to develop any awareness of our limits in that regard.  Despite the dire warnings we came up with, what we believed at the time, was an airtight plan. Immediately after sunset and tent check, we’d leave our tents, bolt across the field under the cover of darkness and visit our classmates with the utmost confidence that none of this would stir even a hint of suspicion. 

Once darkness set in, tent checks complete, the zippers of 16 tents rang out and the charge was on. 

Almost instantly the flaw in our planning was exposed.  Who would think that teachers would patrol the tents after dark? Clearly 12-year-old boys didn’t.

Thankfully almost every one of us detected the flaw immediately, dove back in our tents, with adrenaline surging but safe from suffering the wrath of our teacher supervisors.

Everyone, that is, but Brian.

Peeking through our tent doors, there he was. His silhouette like a gazelle, bounding on an open plane, all on his own, in the dark, cool, damp, spring air completely oblivious to his solitude.

It turns out that teachers must develop an extraordinary capacity to identify 12-year-old running boys in the dark of night.

But as Brian’s luck would have it, that wasn’t his biggest problem.

In a highly predictable twist of fate, the world’s most fearsome teacher spotted him immediately. We cringed as we heard him yell: “Smart, where are you going?”

At that moment, the magnitude of Brian’s initial mistake compounded significantly.  For instead of responding with something like, “I’m just running to the bathroom”, he chose instead to announce, with a completely misplaced sense of sarcasm, at the top of his lungs, “I’m going to an orgy”.

And to make matters much worse, as he was sometimes known to do, he added, “where the fuck do you think I’m going, you asshole?”  

It was too much for 12-year-old boys. We spent years laughing about it.

And that’s what he did more than anyone I know. He laughed a lot and he helped other people laugh a lot.

Equal to his ability to make people laugh was his ability to build big friendships.  He had more best friends than anyone I know; he did it effortlessly, sincerely and happily.  He was as comfortable with his 3-year-old grandson as he was with the 93 year olds he was working with as part of his studies to become a healthcare aid. 

I will always be proud to call him my best friend as I know many others are too.

The span of his musical taste was broad. Together, we saw John Lee Hooker, The Clash, Peter Tosh, Black Uhuru, Talking Heads, The Police (actually more than the musical kind), the English Beat, Flock of Seagulls, Eric Clapton, the Hip, Nash the Slash, lost some/most of our hearing watching the Headstones at the Rivoli and watched some dude throw a banana 125 meters and land right at the feet of Joan Jett - an act of athletic prowess I have yet to witness again.

But his greatest achievement is undoubtedly his family. His son, daughters and his wonderful grandson; they featured prominently and lovingly in virtually every single conversation. Each of his kids inherited his greatest attributes. 

Among the many things uniting the human experience is our frailty. None of us live perfect lives. We all deal with challenges. 

All of us, in our own way, do the very best we can to accommodate those challenges. 

We love our families and friends and care for our communities, our country and the planet.  We count on those we love in our time of need.

This was especially true of Brian.

I am grateful for every second he lived his life.  

I will miss him for as long as I live mine.

J IS FOR JOVIAL

 There are so many words I could have selected for this letter. 

Justified, joyful, jaunt (a very long one) yet I ultimately chose JOVIAL. 

I picked it because it was how I felt when my spouse and I reconnected with my brother (pictured below) over a fifteen hour phone call. Which is truly amazing, considering the three of us hadn’t spoken in as many years.

My big brother in the downstairs room where he first played me Hotel California on his new stereo.
TAKEN: 1983

Growing up, I was the youngest and he the eldest of four. 

Though I have many vibrant memories, my mom making him sit with me to go through the Sears Wish Book catalogue when I was about seven stands out; I can see us sitting at his desk.

That specific exercise was to help her establish what I was hoping Santa was going to bring, which must have been a drag, because as my senior he knew the real deal.

All these years later, I know he did it because he was made to, but I think he will be surprised to read that I still remember our very first Christmas in Ontario at 190 Shier Street like it was yesterday. 

Growing up, I was always in awe of him. He had cool friends, played in a band, did well in school, and always seemed to have a very specific direction. I'm sure the latter had something to do with my mother but I can’t say for sure.

In our clan, he was the first and I the last. Bookends per se, for all the family adventures and stories the others grew up with. He was closest to our mother before her death, me to our dad before his.

As I share the photo I do tonight, you can see I tore it trying to take it out and scan it. So once again this challenge, I share another Kodak moment that is a picture of a picture. Funny how times have digitally changed.

As my big bro sent a text in song for my birthday, I giggled and smiled from ear to ear.

Not just because we’d reconnected…. But because he’d become my newest electronic friend, as well as he has always been one of the very few people I have always enjoy talking on the telephone with.

Who’d a friggin' thunk it? Not this cat!

M IS FOR MIAMI MOJITO

Celebrating the culture in South Beach with a Miami Mojito!

TAKEN: APRIL 10th, 2018

From the April A-Z Blogging archives

This was originally posted April 15th, 2018

DINING AL FRESCO

In the midst of purchasing our current home, the lawyer called the day it was to close to let us know that the old shed in the backyard was encroaching on the neighbouring lot line. His professional opinion was that we should make the sellers move it. 

Being the superstar handyman my husband naturally boasts being, he instructed the deal to close announcing that he would gladly relocate the shed. Pictured in the photo background, I don’t think he’s opened the door since he moved our crap into it and that was almost twenty years ago!

Anyway, when my father stayed with us in his end of life hospice care the winter of 2005, he was quick to establish friendships with the local fauna including these photogenic furry tailed bandits. 

During his last housebound winter, he introduced an outdoor dining experience like no other - and by the time he left us that June, his newly established extended family understood what a glorious food source this happy go lucky chap turned out to be.

One of my many generations of  friends born the spring of 2020.
TAKEN: NOVEMBER 2020

Once I'd passed that mournful summer without my dad, I noticed not very many of his furry friends remained come autumn. The ones that did escape the owls and foxes were a small family of grey squirrels and they had build a beautiful drey for themselves high up in our back gully. Fifteen seasons later I have fed and nurtured many generations, and all have offered me great memories and wonderful friendships from a distance. 

Now back to the shed that was never moved but still needs to be... Each and every spring I  open its door to see what our six months of winter hath delivered. 

Not because there is anything in there worth salvaging but because I know in spring when others awake with a hungry belly, that ugly brown shed offers one of several escape locations of trust, offering quick easy ground access for all of my dining friends.

I don't think of it as a 'members only' condo unit per se, more an exclusive diners club that offers a covered option should it be raining when I ring that afternoon dinner bell.

...Signifying their dining al fresco restaurant is officially open for service!

HELLO NEW-VEMBER

Loving life packing only a cellphone, a credit card & a smile!
TAKEN: OCTOBER 10th, 2013

For a number of reasons, this is one of my very favorite selfies I have ever managed to capture.  I snapped it in an absolute coffee induced euphoric state, the morning after landing in Old Montreal with a girlfriend.

As the story goes, I had seen The Eagles at the ACC in Toronto the Thursday night before, then hopped a plane to Montreal to see Bon Jovi at the Bell Centre that Saturday night. 

I remember embracing the brisk November morning with an extra skip in my step feeling like a brand new person. Not because I was going to venture into historic Vieux-Montréal and its amazing architecture, but because I had made the life changing decision to quit my dream job; a milestone that happened seven years ago this week. 

My point? 

I think some of you may be surprised to read that for the first time in years, I once again have a skip in my step and I am sporting an ear to ear smile for making yet another life altering choice. I am pleased to report that I have left my sales and marketing position within the construction industry here in Muskoka... and I couldn’t be happier.

Just like seven years ago, my decision wasn't made lightly. It was a transition I had entertained for almost six months. If I am being honest, the reason for the lag was because I had struggled to wrap my mind around the logistics of such a life altering shift. 

Like most things in life, timing is everything. I guess you could say, just like the day I snapped this selfie, I had to invest in myself and trust the timing in my life. Even with that trust, I worried my glass  may feel half empty. Hence those months it took me to finally decide. 

As everyone knows, this isn't rocket science. A job is a job, that in the end you get paid for simply doing a job - and people leave jobs all the time.

In this instance, my personal struggle came with the more than a hundred people I was blessed to get to know and work alongside of with a great sense of pride. It didn't matter which, I was connected to each and every one of them... How could I go?

In the end, transitioning has had zero effect with those I was closest with. Social media has helped close the landline conversation gap and not a day goes by that my phone isn’t a buzz with a meme, a text, or a call from one of many. I guess you could say our friendships are a different kind of payday for simply treating people the way we wanted to be treated. 

As I wrap up my post and head over to Spotify, I can't help but reflect on those amazing few days and two great back to back concerts seven years ago. Today has me embracing, blasting, and singing, a number of those really great tunes performed live. 

But for whatever reason... Already Gone by the Eagles and It's My Life by Bon Jovi seem to be bringing down the house!

Sorry. Couldn't resist the obvious comical musical punchline.

#yagottalaughaboutit

R IS FOR RANDOM

The random gift of a Tim Horton's coffee is always good idea!
PHOTO: Me awaiting my birthday flight to New Orleans
TAKEN: APRIL 6th, 2017

For some strange reason I had a hankering for a cup of Tim Horton’s coffee this week. 

But, when I arrived at the franchise, the drive thru was closed. Not really sure what was happening, I decided lolygag in the parking lot until the pylons were removed and it opened again.

This COVID-19 situation sucks. I feel so sorry for everyone, yet grateful that I still get a full paycheck. So, when I arrived to pay, I decided to pay forward a random act of kindness for car behind mine. 

In hindsight, I could have paid for more but I've promised myself I will continue to give back to those in need until Ontario and the world is back on its feet.

As I’ve posted here a few times since this lock down started to... Be kind. Be considerate. Be compassionate; for those that may be in need your help for many months to come.

Just like the message I left at the Tim Horton’s window for the lady in the car behind me, always keep that front of mind and have a great day!

HASTA LUEGO, AMIGOS!

If you happen to follow me on social media, you are well aware of the treacherous weather I endured to ensure I made it to the airport for my jaunt into the sun in the middle of February.

The roads were so bad, it took four hours to get the airport, with the last hour being a slow crawl from the top of Toronto into the parking lot of my airport hotel.

Once finally checked in and cozy, the freezing rain arrived in full force. Fully expecting my flight to be cancelled in the morning, when I rose at 3:00am the following morn to prepare for my 6:15am flight, my Sunwing app pleasantly alerted me to a fight delay rather than cancellation.

Knowing full well that I was faced with a kick-ass first world problem, I was still excited that the flight had only been delayed and not cancelled. A little better than four hours late, the plane was barreling down the YYZ runway & I was getting the hell out of dodge!

Landed, took a quick bus to the resort, suited/lathered up and immediately headed onto the beach & into the sun. Suffice is to say that by dinnertime I was totally bagged from my 'hurry up and wait kinda day' whilst soaking up the spirits that compliment an all inclusive vacation.

So, for a combination of reasons (including sheer stupidity) I took my designer handbag with me into the dinner buffet. Inside was my wallet, my underwater camera and uber expensive cellphone; all of which usually stay under lock and key no matter where I travel.

After meeting the serving team and leaving a generous tip for their amazing service, I was off to see the 9:30pm live show. Thank goodness I got waylaid in the lobby bar listening to the house band, because after the dining room closed, I got an unexpected tap on my shoulder from the gal that was my server earlier in the evening. She could barely speak English but managed to act out that I had left my handbag in the diningroom.

I rushed back with her to retrieve it, hugged each and every one of the servers that worked in my Diamond Club section and was grateful beyond belief. As I type, I am amazed that though they didn’t have to return my bag (and my valuable contents) they ALL went above and beyond by wandering through hundreds of people in the busiest section of the resort to find me and do the right thing.

Proving, yet again (what I unconditionally believe) that you get back the energy you ultimately exude. To expand on that, it's always been my personal travel belief that no matter where one lands or where one roams, you are the the one responsible for the outcome in the overall experience department; which is primarily why I ignore 99% of the negative input on Trip Advisor, focusing only on what may impact my ability to enjoy my adventure.

With any/all political views aside, there is truly something special about Cuba. They boast some of the most beautiful beaches I have ever had the pleasure to walk along & enjoy, which pale in comparison to the attitude and passion of the people that live there.

They personify that you should ALWAYS treat people the way you want to be treated. It's that simple... To which I will be forever grateful.

Gracias y hasta luego, amigos....

Thank you, I will see you again, friends.

Sharing more of the love the following evening with these amazing peeps!
Memories Flamenco Beach Resort ~ Cayo Coco, Cuba
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 14th, 2019

MY UNEXPECTED VISIT

I came home from work last night & climbed straight into bed. So weak with fever that I never bothered getting out of my dress clothes.

I just plopped my snotty self under the covers in an effort to achieve a level of complete relaxation that would ultimately lead to the comatose state I’d been craving all day. Those two hours of deep sleep were heavenly.

When I finally woke up, I managed to haul my ass out of bed long enough to get my jammies on, yet by 8pm I had called it a night. When my alarm went off at 5am, I text my boss and went back to sleep for another four hours. It was in those four hours that something extraordinary happened: I dreamt of my Dad.

Words can't accurately describe how glowing & vivid my dream was. I could actually hear his voice. I recognized the clothing he was wearing and navigated his surroundings like I was actually there. The scenario was as if he'd never spent is last months in hospice with me, rather been placed in a home for palliative care.

Though it was a sunny spring day outside, I was anxious when I was dreaming because his level of care was not what I thought he was entitled to. When I awoke (after what felt like spending the day with him) I was in the midst of dreaming that I was trying to locate my cellphone in his room; which was actually my cellphone signalling me notifications that my boss needed my assistance with something at the office. Just like that, our visit was over.

As I greeted my day still groggy, I realized it was just my fever breaking. Yet, because we had such a vivid visit today, as I sat at the computer sneezing like a poltergeist throughout the day, it felt like he was there with me. 

You see, once I'd get my snot & sneezing outbreaks under control, I'd sit quietly and listen for my Dad to acknowledge me with a kleenex box and his standard… ‘Gesundheit!

Fever breaking or just a silly dream, I love that my mind had us enjoy today together. 

As always, I'm forever grateful for him stopping by.

There is NEVER a bad time to get a visit from my Best Friend...
TAKEN: MAY 1985

MY ULTIMATE LOVE

Downtown Toronto...
MY ULTIMATE LOVE
TAKEN: AUGUST 3rd, 2018

Do you ever make plans, then as the date draws near, drag your feet because you know getting there and back home will be nothing but a great big fat pain in the ass? Well, that was me last Friday.

I was ecstatic in March when my boss gifted me two tickets to see my very favorite performer, Bryan Adams and his Ultimate Love tour in Toronto.  So excited, that when I got home that night, I headed over to Expedia to book my room.

Suffice is to say that shock ensued at the rates coming through. The best deal I could land was on The Esplanade for just shy of four hundred bucks for the night (and that’s because I paid upfront and bit the bullet for it to be non-refundable)!

Ready for my trek and right on schedule, I left Muskoka shortly after lunch, yet getting into the heart of the city was nothing like I'd ever experienced before. As I checked into my hotel, the young lad serving me asked if I was downtown to see Taylor Swift at the Rogers Centre?

Bryan Adams at the ScotiaBank Arena, Taylor Swift at the Dome AND Caribana on for the weekend instantly explained why the best deal I could get on a room (almost six months prior) was more than double their standard price.

As expected, the concert was the most amazing I have seen to date. The last time I’d attended one of his offerings was in spring 2012 (and I immediately wanted to jump a plane to Winnipeg for a do-over). This show put that one to shame. From start to finish, I kept feeling the need to pinch myself to prove I was actually in the moment.

As the show wrapped and I wandered into the streets the energy was over the top. Tens of thousands of us just embracing another fantastic moment that Toronto has been made famous for. You felt safe and realized you're just one person bringing positive personal energy for Toronto to stay strong.

As I sit and sip my coffee this morn, I must admit that right before leaving town I purchased the piece of costume jewelry I am wearing. It seemed the perfect accessory, as I headed into the city with my heart on a string for my ultimate love.

Three days later, I know I had a great time because my voice hasn't returned from all the singing & screaming that ensued Friday night. Voice or no voice, this past weekend will most definitely be filed in my very special bright green file folder marked...

'Memories of a lifetime.' 

WHO CAN HANDLE THE TRUTH?

I spied a Facebook meme this week that read... "Behind every angry woman, stands a man that has no idea what he did wrong!" I immediately chuckled. In keeping with that thought, I was chatting with a co-worker today.

Long story short, he discovered a couple of things about me that he didn't realize. One, my age (he was blown away when I admitted it, then I gave him 10 bucks for the compliment). Secondly, that I'd recently celebrated my 30th wedding anniversary. Not gonna lie, so many people have asked me, "what's the secret to being married for so long?" 

My answers has always been the same. It's honest, always swift, and injected with splash of humour ..."I'm not giving him half!" 

Chuckles aside, our quick co-worker conversation touched on mid-life and why I started this silly electronic journal. Then, after I went back to my office, I realized I'd said something that really bothered me. I mentioned that I haven't really written since March. Which is bizarre, because I love to write. Admitting I wasn't writing, reinforced that I'd deviated from a long standing & very personal philosophy.

To expand, about 15 years ago I had a conversation with someone in the workplace that asked me if I was 'happy'. I immediately asked them one very simple question. ... 'Do you think I am good at my job?" 

Without hesitation, they said 'yes'. This was my response:

On my list of things that make me happy, work is #5. I place my personal wellness & marriage as #1. My husband & children are tied for #2 & #3. Our home is #4. Work falls around #5. I vividly remember saying, 'if I am doing this well at work, and it's #5, imagine how well everything else is going?' 

I'll never forget that moment. Truth is, it flashed to the forefront of my mind after I told my coworker that I wasn't writing anymore. So here you have it. I admit that this is my first true electronic offering since my Dad had a burger and a beer with a great one I will always hold near and dear. (Posted: March 17th, 2018)

Blog selfie that still appears on my
Facebook blog page. @YaGottaLaughAboutIt
TAKEN: September 2011

Why? Because it's is time to work on what makes me truly happy. That, and the fact that getting great words out of me is really tough; it's sheer exercise and a true workout

Truth? I almost love writing as much as I love challenging myself with the practice of yoga.

So... FYI. Never expect future posts on the two nights a week I work at my practice.

Nameste,

Rhondi

M IS FOR MIAMI MOJITO

Celebrating the culture of South Beach with a Miami Mojito!
TAKEN: APRIL 10th, 2018

J IS FOR JERSEY

Every Toronto Raptors SUPER FAN has to proudly wear a custom made JERSEY!
TAKEN: AMERICAN AIRLINES ARENA, MIAMI BEACH ~ APRIL 2018

MY BEAUTIFUL MIDLIFE BLANKET

I was texting back and forth yesterday morning with a trusted confidant and we began reminiscing about the summer of 2012. For a number of varying reasons we cheerfully remember that time, most importantly because it was the very first time I’d lived alone at the cottage & commuted to work since its purchase in 1999. In hindsight, I guess you can say that was the summer I officially learned to sew; simply because that summer was the first time I'd ever invested in mending... me.

It’s not like I was broken per se, more to the point that when the twins left for post secondary school in September of 2011, I felt a sense that my life was unraveling. The point being, when the nest empties I don’t think anyone can truly get to know themselves (what they want, nor what they need as a newly independent person) until they make the effort to try and figure it out. Midlife gave me the one thing I’d never had the luxury of before: time.

All these years later, I realize that nothing truly prepares us for midlife. And when that phase crept into my peripheral vision, I honestly would not have classified myself as unhappy. More elated, embracing a feeling of euphoria because I no longer had to focus on everyone around me, and could finally get to focus on my own needs.

It was in that moment, that I looked in the mirror and realized that I had no idea who I was. I remember my immediate assessment on the outside was that I was overweight, yet on the inside I realized I was resentful for being underappreciated. That very harsh personal reality hit like a ton of bricks… and trust me, I did NOT see it coming.

So, as things in my life began to quickly unfurl, I took matters into my own hands. I don’t know what I would have done without my very best girlfriend. She was a lifesaver. She had already survived something similar, so she was my beacon. Thank goodness I didn’t have to pay CJ for all of her hugs and words of support, I would have gone bankrupt!

The summer of 2012. Puddin' was just a wee pup and Dot got to spend extra paddle time alone with me!
TAKEN: JUNE, JULY & AUGUST 2012

The point of my post is that I don't dwell on that time and I have no regrets. I made some big personal moves, learned how to live my life on my terms, and over the eighteen months that followed suffered gut-wrenching heartache I don’t wish on anyone else to have to experience. At the end of the day, I came out the other side more vibrant and exceedingly more comfortable with the skin I’m in. If you’re in my life it’s because you deserve to be, if you’re not, you ultimately know & understand why.

Owning who you are is a lot harder than you may think. For years I just folded like a lawn chair until I would explode with frustration. Now a days, I wholeheartedly own what I want and openly communicate where I’m going: with no regrets.

A wise man once told me that life experiences are the threads that all have a part in our final blanket, which is very true. The other side of that coin is, who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?

I taught myself to sew a beautiful midlife blanket six years ago... Didn’t I ?!

REMEMBERING 2017

January: An amazing bonfire on the very first day of the year.

February: A long weekend jaunt to Cuba

March: Me...celebrating Spring!

April: My birthday trip to New Orleans!!

May: The murder of Wendy Boland

June: Finished a decade long project at the cottage.

July: Celebrated Canada 150

August: A beautiful wedding in the rain.

September: A team building fishing trip to the French River

October: Mourned the death of a Canadian icon.

November: Celebrated my Mother in Law's milestone 70th birthday

December: Ended my work year with a bunch of amazing people

Proud Mama Moment? Witnessing my son kill it in the finals of The Muskoka Voice singing competition.

She was one for the record books!
TAKEN: JAN-DEC 2017

THE BEST CATCH OF ALL

I don’t know about you but lately life has been crazy busy for me. Not that it normally isn’t, it’s just that there has been a day or two in the last month I wish I could have coasted just a teenie weenie bit.

A tad over-tired, I may have beeen cranky a stitch but I’m not complaining. Though I've been busy, I am looking forward to a tropical fall vacation I booked last week with some great friends the first week of December. I am venturing back to Riveria Maya to meet up with the British pals I met last year, bringing other cool Canadian peeps for them to meet. I honestly can't wait.

Tropical vacation news aside, the point of my post is that at the end of last week I spent three days and two nights away from home on a team building excursion I'd had the pleasure of planning for the guys at work. It was a fishing trip and we traveled a little more than 2 hours northwest of Muskoka.

Grateful to be rewarded with one big team event a year (last year a Christmas Gala at Deerhurst Resort) this year the goal was to appease the angler in all of us.  Our team occupied the entire fishing resort on the French River. The difference between last Christmas and last weekend? What you saw was what you got.

Not a single male employee worried if their shirt and tie matched their fishing rod, nor did anyone comment that my very sexy flip flops clashed with my sweatshirt.  As I said repeatedly over the course of the 3 days, with close to 70 in attendance, "...everyone that was there, truly wanted to be," which in itself is very powerful and motivating.

Every single person on the leadership team got as much out of the experience as the newest employee; which speaks to why we stand so strong. From a personal perspective, thanks to my bestie floating me his company ball cap off his head at 1am Friday morn, as I only put product my hair once in three freaking days. For the first time ever, the team saw me as myself. No hair nor makeup, always smiling, with my very sick sense of sarcasm as sharp as a bag of razor-blades. For me, the entire experience was absolutely and unequivocally bat shit crazy amazing!

Oh, I should mention that though I did many mange to go fishing for about an hour late Friday afternoon (with my favourite carpenter and our company mascot Charlie) I didn't catch a thing. What I did land was the best catch of the entire event; the Saturday morning sunrise.

In my opinion it was much better than the $200 bucks awarded for biggest fish.

Because for me...it was PRICELESS.

Thanks, Wolseley Lodge.... We ALL had a blast!
TAKEN: SEPTEMBER 16th, 2017