ONE GIANT STEP

 Have you ever had one of those days where no matter what you try and accomplish, you take one step forward and two steps back? 

Well, the fat lady is tuning up to start singing to signal the end of my vacation, and gosh darn dammit if the last seven days haven’t played out exactly like that!

Since we connected water in early May, I have loved living in my little Covid Casita. But if I'm being honest here, the five days of rain last week drove me a tad bit stir crazy. 

Usually when I am antsy and frustrated, we hop in the car and go vrooom zoom for a change of scenery. Imagine wet dog everything and misplaced car keys. 

I know, right? Two. Steps. Back!

Y'all know I love my pups and that they love me. This is proven daily by the fact that they both have to be within two feet of me at any given moment. 

So, this past week, to avoid major rainfall/lake water stinkage, I towel dried them as much as possible, leaving me with a clean towel crisis that offered impressive expletives that I usually save for that crazy orange man south of here. 

I kid you not, when an electronic friend checked in via text with, “hope your week off is okay and quiet.” I instantly responded with, ‘I did laundry in the rain this morning... Livin’ the dream!” 

Truth of the matter is, when I saw the long-range forecast, I wanted to cancel and take a different week. My husband did not. I get it. He has the privilege of a maid and cook; so I can totally empathize with why we wouldn’t entertain a reschedule.

That said, I read an online article this week about the pursuit of personal happiness. It was from a husband’s perspective. It explained how it isn’t his job to make his wife happy. It is her responsibility to ensure she is happy with her choices and herself, which I agree with 100%.

So, when cleaning out the closets this past week, I came across a two-person pup tent I'd purchased for the kids many years ago. I set it up on the lower deck and looked forward to falling asleep over the water and waking up to the morning fog. 

I think I could market this space on Air BnB!
TAKEN: August 6th, 2020

People on my Facebook immediately joked that my husband had finally sent me to the doghouse but the truth of the matter is I hit the jackpot and got the hell out of the extra large doghouse for a good night sleep. 

Then, when heading up to make morning coffee, I broke the zipper on the door, took it down and hauled it into the trash.

Killing the tent after one might have been my two steps back. BUT baby, my night outside alone in the fresh air?

One giant step forward!

COTTAGE RAMP UP!

Only yours truly could be lucky enough to take their first summer vacation since 2012 and be blessed with rain all but the first day thus far. 

The crappy part is that the single sunny Saturday wasn't even taken as a day of rest, instead it was spent repairing and reinstalling the ramp attached to our floating dock system.

Notice the first step onto the ramp is missing?
TAKEN: AUGUST 1st, 2020

I think any repairs or renovations bring out the true personality of you and your life partner, which is probably why smart peeps pay someone to complete their chores to simply avoid the aggravation; automatically slotting us into the “sucker for punishment” construction category.

I’ve joked here numerous times that I married Canada’s Worst Handyman, which is exactly that, me teasing. If I was on the outside looking in, I would see that neither of us are lazy, nor less committed to accomplishing what we set our sites on.  We just approach any project we do in very different fashion. 

I like to have a firm plan from the start and my husband likes to jump in without even understanding if he has the right tools and material to finish.

I hate to be interrupted when I am in a task-oriented mode and he absolutely loves an extra five trips to the hardware store while the work is in process. Drives me bat shit crazy!

 

So, over the years I have learned that when we have a plan, there needs to be at least a three Saturday buffer to ensure we start without having to stop. To some it might read like micromanagement on my part, but I consider it as a solid investment in both efficiency and productivity... and the solemn promise from this cat not to argue whilst the task's being completed.

As you can see from the photo I am sharing, last Saturday has the top step from the deck onto the ramp missing. We never had a step there before, the ramp was always attached higher up. But by dropping the ramp and anchoring it differently, the hope is the ice won’t pummel it into submission again next winter.

Who wants to bet me that I don’t get a step installed this summer unless I do it myself?

Hey, I'm not trying to be a bitch here. 

I just have decades of historical data to prove I know the outcome of said bet hands down!

#yagottaslaughaboutit

LONG LIVE THE VCR

Once again, it's the little things in life that make me smile.

TAKEN: JULY 11th, 2020

This past weekend, I decided to start going through cottage totes I had packed up and put away. I knew before I began that if I didn't need what was inside, the items were going to be loaded onto the four wheeler and hauled up the hill.

My project began a top a beautiful cedar closet that has been home to two black totes that had been there forever. I grabbed my step stool and hauled them cats down. 

Very much to my surprise, I discovered they were filled with VHS tapes. 

Instantly, my sexy bonus light, signaling that I'd entered the lightning round lit up. I dropped the lid, quickly sailed across the room, and opened the top drawer of an old dresser/make shift TV stand. 

Now this dresser stand is a classic faux style antique, which I will refer to as a fine crafted, wooden flat screen television stand. Vintage in nature. Traditional in design. Lawn Sale value: $5.

 

With all my might, I pulled on the swollen top drawer that probably hadn't been opened since the totes were stored, only to to discover my prize inside. (Don't judge the whole time lapse thing. Think VERY expensive flat screen television stand.)

Anyway, the drawer was full of taped movies. As a matter a fact, three of the four drawers were filled. 

VHS tapes with family home videos, television specials, kids movies as well as some of my favourite classic movies. I suddenly felt all warm and fuzzy inside.

After an amazing weekend of watching great memories, I can't help but reflect on how easily I haphazardly jumped on a new technology band wagon all willy-nilly, with zero regard for this collection.

Truth is, when the kids were in high school, I began collecting us DVD's. When they went away to college, I began scouring bargain bins to add to my collection. 

Everything I have ranges in price from a $1.99 to $4.99. I am embarrassed to share that I have accumulated hundreds of DVD's. 

With no streaming option, the last couple of summers I have struggled to pick a movie, so imagine my excitement in the moment I discovered this treasure. 

It was like finding a long lost trusted friend on social media and you unconditionally needed to catch up with them. A total breath of fresh air....Which brings me to my point. 

Rhondi Rule #908: Never discount a strong connection you've previously had by replacing it with something shiny and new.

Chances are the original will turn out to be that cozy blanket and pair fuzzy slippers that you've been quietly missing for the last fifteen years.

Give or take a change in technology or twenty two!

VAYCAY STAYCAY

Today is the last day of my five day staycation that was spent at the cottage. 

I absolutely love an evening bonfire!
TAKEN: JULY 3rd, 2020

Funny how one forgets how wonderful time off in the summer can be when you you travel three of four times every winter. Not gonna lie, I've missed the sheer simplicity of this.

I've missed the early morning coffee sitting next to the water and evening bonfires listening to my favourite songs. Time here is very structured yet extremely relaxed. I love that if I don't want to wear clothes, I don't!

As I sit here and type it's hard to fathom that his is our 20th summer on Orillia Lake. There have been lots of changes over the years yet most everything is still the same. Most owners have come and gone but life here remains as it was 20 years ago; without young children. 

Speaking of children, there's a young family across from us that have children the ages ours were back when we purchased. Sometimes I find myself watching them and I think of Jukebox and Goob and their buddies spending hours upon hours in the water, coming out only to grab some grub and right back in they'd go.

The picnic table we had for them that could sit a dozen children was cut in half to save space. A couple of years ago we put billets under it. 

This summer we built her out, named her Stella, and added a trolling motor. Only to discover that I regret ever chopping the thing in two.

All of the decks, landings and stairs will be replaced this summer and though we have a shower upstairs, we chose to rebuild the outdoor shower in preparation for our staycay. 

My outdoor shower is right up there with skinny dipping for me. It feels great!

...Just like these last days have.

ELBOW BUMP BLUES

This past weekend we had our very first 2020 visitors out to the cottage. Relax, they're a part of our inner circle of ten as it was my son Jukebox and his very lovable and quick witted girlfriend. 

They arrived just in time for lunch on Saturday. We spent a quiet day. Enjoyed a nice bonfire, then a hearty breakfast before they had to head back into town so she could work a Sunday afternoon shift.

It wasn't until they went to head up the hill that I realized how much my behaviours have changed, as I backed away and told them I didn't want a hug.  

In lieu, they both got double elbow bumps!

I love this photo. She is clearly matching his wit and he knows it!
TAKEN: June 27th, 2020

When Covid-19 first hit, I was deemed an essential worker and continued my modified Monday to Friday routine. Our leadership team immediately put a policy in place that you had to meet certain criteria before you could enter our office. 

If you did get to enter, you were made to stay on the mat inside the office door. 

As shaking hands was no longer an option, I would offer a quick a curtsy as my standard greeting. In turn, most men would bow to reciprocate and we'd have a wee chuckle.

It has only been since phase II came into effect that I gradually introduced the elbow bump. If you're near and dear to me, I'll shrug, pump, then roll my shoulders prior to offering my elbow just so the recipient knows there's a little extra special intent coming their way. (Guess you could say it was the closest thing to a hug I could create.)

Not gonna lie, I am so over this entire pandemic/plandemic thing, yet I'm not going to debate either side of that double sided coin, seems to just fuel the base of either opinion; which isn't the intent of my post.

What I will admit is that I miss the simple things we took for granted. Silly things, like chatting it up in the coffee aisle of the grocery store or letting my pups have a play date. But most of all I am going to miss travelling, so much so that I try not to even think about the next twelve months and what they may look like.

As I prepare to take a Canada Day cottage stretch staycation, I can't help but reflect on how ill I was in January and how I'm reading that if I did in fact have Covid-19, the antibodies from having the virus don't last long term. 

...Go figure.

Guess that right there is just another great big middle finger moment 2020 wanted to generously send my way! #yagottalaughaboutit

DEAL WITH IT!

When I was a kid, my summer days were spent by the lake and my evenings spent playing cards or board games by propane powered lights with my mom and extended family. All these years later, those memories are still very fond ones.

Naturally, when we purchased our own cottage back in 2000, a wooden game box for puzzles and everything else needed to keep preteens busy was one of the first things created. They would swim through the day and if it rained, the game box was immediately cracked open before the television was ever turned on.

As I type, I can hear that classic pop-o-matic sound of a game of Trouble clicking away, or squeals of an exciting game of snakes and ladder in need of a referee well underway.

Their favourite card game was crazy 8's and I feel like they played thousands of those with my Dad before he passed in 2005.

As I reflect in my 20th summer at our cottage, I can't help but notice how much things have changed.

The kids don't come by very often anymore and the majority of my time is spent alone, yet I still love playing cards and board games. The difference is now it's against downloaded robots or an online audience.

 

Playing Phase 10 while listening to the Blue Jays play.
TAKEN: JULY 2018

Every once and a while I can convince my husband to play but it's not really his thing. In the summers since the kids left home, it has always been a negotiation to gain his interest in participating.

For instance, in summers past, though I absolutely hate baseball (which is another post) I would concede that we could listen to the game on the radio if he'd agree to play a board game or a couple of games of cards in return. With this summer season cancelled, I think I am going to have to become super creative.

With cottage life officially underway and no sports to use as bait, I'm thinking I may need to bust out a topless option with benefits for Canasta to get him interested in participating.

Either way, I'll deal with it. 

Get it?

Cards?

Deal?

That said, feel free to insert eye roll or head shake now.

A solid groan would also be totally appropriate!

KEEPING IT REAL

This is US at Orillia Lake.
TAKEN: 2008

More than a decade ago, I worked for a big fat guy that was an absolute donkey. Because I don’t like to degrade without inserting context, he was also extremely militant and generally very rude.

I remember he use to constantly page me over the loud speaker. “Rhondi, can you come to my office?” Which was code for me - that he needed to be fed.

When I heard, “Rhondi, can you come to my office, please!” I knew I was going to get a good old fashion ass kicking, because something out of my control had pissed him off.  The latter happened far more than I care to share.

Why did I stay? Truth is, I loved the job. 

I loved the job, the industry, but most of all the other people on the team. I guess you could say that I absorbed his poor treatment of me right up until the specific moment when his poor treatment of me was the straw that broke this loyal camel’s back.

Which leads me to my point:

With everything that is happening surrounding COVID-19, I find myself having similar conversations with my children about how they were, and are being treated (or mistreated) since this pandemic hit.

As I’ve mentioned, my daughter has two front line jobs, one at the hospital and one at a grocery store. She isn’t sure she wants to continue with both once the province opens up. I don’t blame her. One employer values her, the other does not. 

As a mom, all I can do is listen and let her talk things through with a sense of optimism that she'll hear herself rationalize her concerns; which I hope will eventually help her understand what she truly wants to do. 

Pre-pandemic, both my boys were doing very well in the restaurant industry. One can’t work because of underlying health issues and the second took a front line job so he could continue to pay his bills. After a month, his new employer exceeded his previous wage in hopes he would stay in their employ long term.

I guess the big picture question is should they return to the status quo or should they look to transition? At this juncture, no one has a crystal ball to tell me what the future will bring, so I can’t really be of assistance, simply listen and support.

For me, I'm just keeping it real. I have firmly instilled in all three to always treat people the way you want to be treated, in hopes that energy is returned. But more importantly, they always need to stand unconditionally strong together and support one and other no matter what.

COVID-19 or not, I will circle back to the nasty boss I mentioned at the beginning of my post. 

By sharing with them what happened to me in 2008, reinforces my point to them that substandard employers that don't appreciate young talent may come and go.

.... But family is forever!

F IS FOR FITNESS

Driving by Snap Fitness yesterday, I laughed aloud when I read their marquee: “If your dog is fat… You're not getting enough exercise!” 

Personally, I thought the message was brilliant.

I walk far more than the recommended 10,000 steps a day, and I am very outgoing in every other facet of my life. I watch what I eat, and I certainly don't feel nor act my age.

Keeping with that last thought, my personal fitness guru was telling me that eating chocolate releases the same endorphins as having an orgasm.  Intrigued by the statement, I decided to do some basic math. 

The average chocolate bar contains 884 calories.  Having sex, can burn up to 300 calories per half hour.

Dottie enjoying our Book Club offering!
TAKEN: JULY 2012

Hmmm, I say the perfect solution is to enjoy an amazing two hour romp, and avoid any type of chocolate offering all together. 

That gives me a big bonus 1200 calories burned, and a perma smile that will stay with me way longer than any silly Kit Kat bar can possibly offer!

Now that right there is some serious calorie counting I can throw my back into! Guess I need to whip my husband into shape.

Whip? Maybe, not.

Blindfold? Definitely, MAYBE!

C IS FOR CANADA

I will always be proud and free. With an amazing sense of humour!
TAKEN: OCTOBER 2016

If your local Dairy Queen is closed from September through May, you may live in Canada...

If someone in a Home Depot store offers you assistance and they don't work there, you may live in Canada .. 

If you've worn shorts and a parka at the same time, you may live in Canada . 

If you've had a lengthy telephone conversation With someone who dialed a wrong number, you may live in Canada . 

If 'Vacation' means going anywhere South of Detroit for the weekend, you may live in Canada . 

If you measure distance in hours, you may live in Canada . 

If you know several people who have hit a deer more than once, 

You may live in Canada . 

If you have switched from 'heat' to 'A/C' in the same day and back again, You may live in Canada . 

If you can drive 90 km/hr through 2 feet of snow during a raging blizzard without flinching, you may live in Canada . 

If you install security lights on your house and garage but leave both unlocked, you may live in Canada .

If you carry jumper cables in your car and your wife knows how to use them, you may live in Canada 

If you design your kid's Halloween costume to fit over a snowsuit, you may live in Canada . 

If the speed limit on the highway is 80 km -- you're going 95 and everybody is passing you, you may live in Canada . 

If driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with snow, you may live in Canada . 

If you know all 4 seasons: almost winter, winter, still winter, and road construction, you may live in Canada . 

If you have more miles on your snow blower than your car, you may live in Canada . 

If you find -2 degrees 'a little chilly', you may live in Canada . 

If you actually understand these jokes, you definitely are Canadian and proud to be.

WINTER SUCKS!

My photos were taken exact 163 hours apart.
I really do dread this time of year!
TAKEN OCTOBER 27th & NOVEMBER 1st, 2019

I don't know about you, but fall for me is like an amazing twelve week shopping spree that eventually ends with an epic case of buyer’s remorse. 

It's as if Labour Day is the milestone signaling me to head the shopping mall. Thanksgiving brings the expensive and very euphoric sexy shoe purchase, and by Halloween the fun becomes strained.

Ultimately, by the time we turn the clocks back, the Visa bill with interest arrives; and that final buzz kill leaves me grumpy for the six long months of winter that follow.

As you know, the time change is a big deal for me. So many things I dread just naturally happen. Every. Single. Year.

Almost immediately after we 'fall back', I leave for work in the dark and arrive home under the same circumstance. The swashbuckling pirates that produce my bogus hydro bill begin to circle like vultures, and it takes every fiber of self-restraint to not put gravy on absolutely everything I eat. As an emotional eater, at least I know the latter feeds into my 24-7 need for comfort, when I am simply always glum.

All my bitching aside, I understanding time is precious and I truly do hate to wish it away but 2019 has not been a remarkable year of magnificent for me. Rather, I feel I have been repeatedly tested.

The truth is, with 61 days left until the year ends, I sense I’m in high school again. Specifically in grade 12 Chemistry when my teacher gave me a passing grade. Not because I'd aced his class, just simply because I'd tried as hard as I could and never once gave up.

Reinforcing, yet again, that even if you didn't have a shit year nor suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder,  there are two things I know to be true.

That life is really hard, right up until the moment it isn't.

... and that WINTER SUCKS!

MY CANINE SUMMER SHIFT

Well, I woke up at 7am this morning, poured myself a hot cup of java, then packed the majority of my crap and moved back into town mid morning. 

It wasn’t my general intention when I went to bed last night, but I think I woke a tad panicked that I would come home to certain stresses at dawn tomorrow morning. 

The good news is I didn’t. I’d done all the laundry at the cottage Saturday & Sunday morning, and aside from the lawn needing to be mowed, all my other chores were done and the house clean.

I don’t know about you but I hate a mess. I hate unnecessary clutter, but most importantly, I hate if you walk into my home or cottage and you know I have dogs... Aside from the fact that they’ll drive you crazy with their incessant barking to announce the importance of your very formal arrival. 

Which brings me to my point. I haven’t written here about losing my beloved Spottie Dottie this summer. Truth is, it’s still too raw. What I will admit, is that I never realized how much work three dogs were, until I only had to tend to two.

My Dot never had an issue with the sound of a camera. RIP ole girl.
TAKEN: 2007-2019

The other thing that is hard to admit is how much dysfunction I enabled having an elder dog in long term palliative care.

Eight weeks after putting Dot out of her misery, the realization that she suffered far more than she needed to, and her mood swings (due to her cancer) took a serious toll on everyone, including both my other pups.

That said, I always knew that Puddin’ and Annie would thrive as a pack of two. If not for the likeness of their temperament, then for the unconditional acceptance of the life we have made for them. 

For the last couple of years, Dottie made Puddin’s life a living hell. Simply because she could.

I have spent the past couple of months focused on reprogramming her, yet she still feels the need to be in a constant state of submission because Dot needed to remain in charge until her death.

Anyway, about a month after we buried Dot, my boss cheerfully asked me, “when are you getting another dog?” My response was a quick and very pointed, “I’M NOT!”

The old adages of “once bitten twice shy or three’s a crowd,” immediately came to mind. Like other things in my past, I have no desire to EVER take that journey again. 

Instead, I will just bask in the memories I have of my three and be grateful my boss lets me dog sit his Golden Retriever, Charlie (lower left). Yup, our Charlie only has two angels to lead not three, 

After just spending his first weekend with us since Dottie parted, I'd say it suited him just fine!

A COTTAGE EXORCISM

I took my mother in law out for a bit of retail therapy and a bite of lunch last week, and during our dining experience she asked me how much younger I was than her son; she was surprised when I reminded her that I was in fact older.

I’m not sure why, but I get that quite a lot. I think it’s partially because I have an abundance of daily energy, partially because I  strive to stay healthy, and partially because I've inherited some exceptional DNA. 

For example, the week my mother passed, her doctor commented on her flawless skin, to which she attributed to soap and water.

Though I do spend extra funds over and above her two-step process, I must admit that I have been very blessed to be in the skin I’m in.

That said, as much as DNA comes into play, a healthy lifestyle and positive attitude are also much haves to staying young at heart.

My biggest health challenge has always been the emotional eater that lurks under my surface and attacks when I’m at my weakest. I’m working on it, yet suspect it will remain an ongoing challenge for the rest of my life.

From the inside looking out, I don’t think am any different than most. Everyone has personal challenges, everyone has an approach as to how to manage them.

In this instance, my tipping point came after the long weekend in August, when I found myself eating and I wasn’t even hungry. It was in that very moment that I identified that there needed to be another cosmic shift; my last one was in 2011.

Thank goodness for the pedal 'boat that floats.'
Diet & exercise has me down 10 lbs so far.
TAKEN: AUGUST 4th, 2019

Short story long. After a full cleanse, and two weeks at home working inside and out, I landed at the cottage for the first time again yesterday. I was immediately horrified I'd fall back as the place was filled with absolute crap.

So, I immediately open the trash can and began an official exorcism. 

Out went the red licorice and wine gums, which were replaced by almonds and Greek yogurt. 

Potato chips and various buns and breads and cookies were tossed to make room for fruits and vegetables and lean cuts of meat and fish.

I must admit, you have no idea how cathartic it was to toss the enabling Miss Vicky out the door. 

It was like that scene from Night in Rodanthe (with Diane Lane & Richard Gere) when they took shots of tequila in the kitchen getting snookered while cleaning out the pantry of expired can goods... It was extremely exhilarating!

Though no tequila was consumed during my purification ritual, I do have to go on the record with something I recently discovered and consider to be a small blessing in this time of very important change.

…It’s that GIN contains zero grams of fat!

Ya Gotta Laugh About It!!

MY COFFEE CONSTERNATION

Snapped this right before I hit the reset button!
TAKEN: JULY 13th, 2019

Ever wonder how you were handed your lot in life?

Because you weren’t. The only person responsible for where you’re at in any given scenario, looks right back at you in the mirror!

As I truck along through this little thing called mid-life, occasionally, I feel I need to shake my head to get all the crazy out that’s going on around me.

So, this morning over a quiet cup of coffee on the dock, I shook my head so hard that it felt like my eyeballs were going to end up in the lake. Officially reset, I did my chores then decided to write about it.

In this instance, the crazy was a swift one-two knockout punch of ego and greed that ultimately took them down for the count. Leaving me dazed, as the referee announced the fight was officially over.

For those that know me, they understand first hand that I am a lover, not a fighter. Should I decide to battle, I’m a tad embarrassed to admit that I generally wipe the mat with you, then embrace personal victory.

However, in the fight analogy I’m skating around this post, I wasn’t in the ring. Just simply given a front row ticket to the main event; hence why I had to shake all the crazy out this morning.

Not gonna lie, I’m happy the prizefight hype and overall anxiety surrounding the bout is over. Feels good to exit the arena and move forward knowing the result.

Because in the end, the fella that had labelled himself the favourite,  showed up for a gunfight with nothing more than a plastic pocket knife!

Which leads me to Rhondi Rule #177: Choose your battles carefully.

If you don’t give a shit about how you treat people, you will ultimately end up being treated like a piece of shit. 

As you know... Karma can be kooky that way.

H IS FOR HEARTFELT

My 2019 April A-Z Blogging Challenge posts will primarily consist of words and corresponding quotes.
(...With the odd opinionated electronic journal entry inserted to keep you on your toes.) 

FOUR VALID POINTS

Let me set the tone by sharing that a male friend of mine posted an meme on Instagram yesterday that literally made me laugh out loud. It referenced general communication most married couples relate to.
It read: 
My wife just stopped & said, “You weren’t even listening were you?” 
I thought… “That’s a pretty weird way to start a conversation?!” 

To create a context for that comment, there’s an old adage that a men & women have so many words they must verbalize in a day. By the time a man gets home, he’s used up all his words. But, because his wife’s words are at least double, she wants to talk for hours after her man ultimately wants quiet...Which is NOT the case here.

Even though I am a full blown extrovert, I deal with so many people on any given work day that I have no desire to be the least bit chatty when I get home. The same goes for when we travel. It’s like we completely switch our day to day personas. He wants to participate in every single event by the pool (not to mention lead the conga line at night) and I want to quietly exist on the periphery with a good book.

To further that, in day to day life this last year, the less we communicate, the better we co-exist.

As I reflect on that last comment I realize in the early days, I expected him to be able to read my mind. As the first & second decades passed, I began to understand repeating myself multiple times was generally what I signed up for. Now, 99% of the time, I just take care of what I need done without asking. This simple tweak's rewarded me a strange sense of accomplishment, eliminating a track record of disappointment.

As an example, we closed the cottage today and very few words were exchanged. We headed in with a task to be completed, and in less than a hour we were headed home. Could it be that all these years later, there are no real need for extra words? 

Part of me thinks it's because we know the other and our routine so well that there isn't a need for dialogue. The other side of that coin is that in the past 30+ years I have come to realize the following:

i)   He can't, nor has any desire to read my mind.

ii)  Never test him on what I am feeling, because he will fail.

iii) Don't dry hump a scenario for a change in attitude. It will only result in chaffing.

iv) Lastly, when truly seeking undivided conversation, always lead with an engaging topic. (My personal experience is that the top ten topics are generally sexual in nature.)

What can I say? Over the years, we've both discovered less is ultimately more. Which is why I found that Instagram post so gosh dang funny...

I don't care who you are.

Always root for the amateurs trying to make a go of it!

The hat wearing husband & his sun kissed hag embracing Muskoka cottage life.
TAKEN: CANADA MAY 2-4, 2011

ORANGE YOU GLAD?

Anyone else have pumpkim carving intuition?
TAKEN: OCTOBER 20th, 2018

As I sit here typing toasty warm, whilst enjoying the fire in the woodstove with my pups at my feet, I can't help but sip my Sunday morning coffee and smile. Feeling blessed, yet again, that my 'happy place' tends to unconditionally provide us with a sheer sense of contentment.

This past weekend, we were pleasantly surprised to land to a much milder Saturday afternoon than expected. As a result, the last of the wood was split & piled, and the remaining brush was burned. I gotta tell ya, it feels great that nothing aches when I kill it outside like I did yesterday. Let's just say that I don't feel even close to the age that my passport hastily reports me to be.

Anyway, worried the weather was going to take a turn for the worst, it was decided that this past weekend was the perfect time to close everything down as well as do my traditional annual cottage carve that doesn't involve a turkey. Suffice is to say, I went shopping and found the above beauty for a whopping $2.88!

The good news is that I found the perfect pumpkin, the bad news is that I couldn't bring myself to carve it until next weekend. Like so many things in our everyday lives, my beloved creative gourd tradition reminded me (yet again) that timing is everything.

You know what I mean. When to buy, or when to sell. When to embrace, or when to let go.... Or in this case, when to carve, or when to admire. I guess you can say that I believe (in all of the above situations) our personal intuition generally wins out over any conscious reasoning. I consider great instincts right up there with keen practical common sense; where very few have one, let alone both.

For what it's worth, I am a firm believer that this time of year is always a great time for what I would call a 'fall cleaning'. You get rid of what you no longer need nor embrace, and that general cleanse process leaves you feeling great. I guess I feel less material and/or emotional baggage to carry through one of our long Canadian winters, makes snowshoeing in January a hell of a lot easier.

Soooo... Orange you glad that this glorious season labelled 'fall' exemplifies how beautiful it can be to weather great challenges, finally let go, then ultimately start over?

Me too!

A FRESH FALL START

A very uneventful September ended with me home sick in bed, and October started with my taking last Friday off as an extended long weekend. I wish was I reporting that it was because I'd planned some sexy adventure, but the truth is I landed at the cottage first thing Friday to pile enough wood to get through this fall, as well as make it possible to stay between Christmas & New Years. An annual tradition I always look forward to.

Thanks to the sub-zero weather Friday morning offered, I landed and immediately built a fire in the woodstove to warm everything up. Once that had me toasty, I had zero ambition to start my wood cutting mission. Instead, arose early Saturday and headed outside to tackle the physically exhausting task at hand.

After close to 20 seasons of Orillia Lake cottage life, this was definitely a season of great change. The two sisters to the left of us swiftly sold their cottage, while the American widower to the right sold via a private sale and fled back to his homeland Labour Day weekend. I was sad to see him go but understand why. He unexpectedly lost his wife on New Years day 2017. She was the Canadian in the duo, so the sale wasn't entirely unexpected. The surprising tidbit's that there's general interest and buzz to privately purchase our humble abode as well.

Though our selling was officially tabled in May of this year, I think the part that surprises me most about our digs is even though the kids have no desire to come out and stay anymore, I seem to be attached to this silly piece property more than ever. I love that I am outside more than in, and I truly feel I am at my best there, not to mention that fall is always absolutely amazing.

So, as my favourite month creeps into the one I dread most, I honestly can't believe Thanksgiving is already behind us. A quiet celebration at the house yesterday left me not only thankful but also very grateful.

Grateful I've discovered that sometimes the smallest step in the right direction, can be some of the biggest steps in your life... and secondly, and equally as important, is that people will come and people will go. Those meant to be, will always want to stay!

Happy (Canadian) Thanksgiving all. I truly appreciate you reading.

Enjoying my happy place, alone, in the rain.
TAKEN: OCTOBER 6th, 2018

DO YOU BELIEVE IN SIGNS?

Just like I do every long weekend, I watch the weather like a hawk to ensure I get at least one sunny day of rest. And by rest, I mean totally ignore the long list of things I need to do and willfully bask in the sunshine. Well, that day this Labour Day weekend was this past Saturday.

When the rain hit just before dawn Sunday morning my sleep was quickly interrupted. That, combined with the pups getting me up earlier than I would have liked, left me generally grumpy. Dark cloud over head, I greeted the day and the chores I wanted to tackle.

I knew I wanted to get some fall cottage cleaning done, so jacked full of caffeine, I decided to move around some furniture, which lead me to organizing the plethora of Trivial Pursuit board games I collect: which I rarely play anymore.

Anyway, I should probably preface that I got a somewhat unsettling text message around dinner time Saturday evening, which may or may not have led to my sleeplessness. In the end, for the twelve or so hours that followed, I kept asking myself… “What would Dad think I should do?”

As I continued the task of gathering my useless crap, I landed where the games have had their home since the cottage was purchased. When I opened the lid, all I could do was smile. Unexpectedly, my father was in the moment with me in spirit. You see, I had forgotten that he had made the toy box for my son’s birthday back in 1996 and left him a personal message using a wood soldering gun.

My dad always shows up when I least expect him.
(To protect my son's identity, I have covered his given name)
TAKEN: SEPTEMBER 2nd, 2018

As I pulled all the board games out of the box to reorganize, all I could think of was Jukebox in poppa’s livingroom, showing him all his all his slick Power Ranger moves and my dad pretending to be the villain Jukebox was ultimately trying to slay.

Just like that, the thought of them removed any & all grumpy stupidity, and I knew I’d ultimately made the right decision the night before. How about you? Do you believe in signs?... I most certainly do.

Grateful my father's presence reminds me that everything is going to be "better"!

A SIMPLE ACT OF HONESTY

I don’t think I've ever shared this here, but I arrange/prepare/serve lunch every Friday for the core team that works from our main office. My boss started the tradition over a decade ago, with the thought process being that if everyone worked through lunch at their desks Monday to Thursday, the Friday eats would be on him. So, when I joined the company in 2015 I was glad to sit on the lunch committee; which has since evolved to primarily being me.

Anyway, last Friday I went to the local butcher mid-morning to pick up what I was going to BBQ. When I stepped to the counter to pay, I noticed the person beside me was an acquaintance I've known for about fifteen years. In 2014, he opened his own business and hired me as a feasibility consultant for a not for profit project he was involved in. He never paid me what I was owed, instead he kept the money for himself.

Bad debt story aside, when he asked a generic question about my order and I didn’t reply, out of the corner of my eye I saw him turn toward me. Low and behold he was excited to see me. His arms opened wide to greet me, his face lit up, and then with great animation he said… “Well, look who it is!”

“You look great," he continued.  "Is life treating you well?”

Without turning my head to make eye contact, I gave a swift one word answer: ‘very’. (In that life's treating me very well.) To which I proceeded to ask the lovely clerk how much I owed her. Realizing my opinion of him hadn't changed, he simply offered me to have a nice day and went on his way.

Just so we're clear, my reaction wasn't because I’m bitter. The emotion of dealing with him left me years ago when I chose not to take him to small claims court. The point of my post is that in any moments like those, I feel it more important to put forth an honest energy, rather than engaging the other & acting fake.

Let's face it, it wouldn't have done any good to lead this person to believe that anything had changed simply because we’d bumped into each other at the butcher counter. I truly wish him nothing but great success. He’s a very nice person. Just not an ethical business person in my books.

Which brings us around to another basic Rhondi Rule:
My personal life experience is that being honest & true to yourself may not generate a plethora of "friends". But what is will do, is most certainly have you surrounded with the ones you can count on... that ultimately, you know you can trust.

Oh, on the 411? The Morley Burgers that were BBQ'd last Friday were DEEEElicious.

Thanks for asking!

I will take the company of a good book over fake friends... any day.
TAKEN: JULY 8th, 2017

YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS?!

My breaking the news we are staying in town.
TAKEN: AUGUST 10th, 2018

After a really great weather weekend in Muskoka, I am in the process of working toward getting my pups off suicide watch, as I've moved back into town with them for the week.

You see, with my commitment to doing yoga twice a week (and the days getting shorter) this last round of heat last week made it apparent that I have lost my stride. Time to re-calibrate on all levels and get some much needed deep and uninterrupted sleep.

I know it may sound exciting to own a home and a cottage that are a fifteen minute drive apart, and 90% of the time it is. The other 10% of the time you worry how you’ll get the lawn at home mowed, floors washed, not to mention the very large doghouse properly cleaned that three very hairy canines rule from Monday to Friday. For me, the latter is nerve-wracking and a burden.

I honestly make lists to find an ease to the order but it never fails, items are missed and unexpected things take priority which frustrates me to no end. If I am being honest, I don’t think my frustration is due to being unorganized, more because I am a tad embarrassed to admit that the happiness of three dogs rule my day to day life.

At the end of it all, they are like any over stimulated toddler. The more they get, the more they want. Hell, isn’t that the rule of thumb for most greedy people in your life? You will always have givers and takers, the hardest part in finding a balance that works.

Could that be why I love yoga so much… because it offers balance?

That, and the fact that there's no dog hair to be found?

Peeps, that right thar is gosh darn truth!