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

Q IS FOR QUIP

YES OR NO?
Simple quips help when you're having a bad day?
For me? ...100% YES!!

PET-HOUSE FORUM

There’s no easy way to admit that I feel like this post is going to start like 99% of all Penthouse Forum letters ever published; with a statement admitting, ‘I never thought anything like this could ever happen to me!’

As you know, when our nest emptied, the dogs pretty much inherited our focus.

They sleep with us, travel with us, and share every single meal I eat.

I actually talk to them as if they’re humans, and trust me, they listen better than the majority of the coworkers I’ve had in the last decade.

Anyway, no matter what the time of year, Saturday has always been their day. From the time we wake up, they get the majority of our words and effort, which I recently discovered isn’t a good thing.

This past weekend was a busy one. We helped family move on Saturday and we had the fundraiser for our buddy Duncan on Saturday night. The day started early and ended in the early hours of the following morning.

My point isn’t that I managed to stay up past my regular 10pm bedtime, more about what the consequences look like for skipping a Saturday doggie day.

Three guesses whom chewed my $100+ handbag! No names please. Annie!!
TAKEN: MARCH 8th, 2020

So I must say, I think the March 7th chewing fiasco was the result of one of the following items:

1. Annie is truly being a BFF in that the pattern of the purse was really quite hideous and she was saving me from any further fashion embarrassment.
2. The handbag just happened to fall into her "favourite flavour" category, kinda like any potato chip for me (which in future I will avoid purchasing her any Nine West offerings).
OR
3. People have been feeding her dog treats through the open window in the Wal-Mart parking lot on Saturdays, and she was simply jonesing, in need of a fix.
(ie: Purse handles... The NEW beef jerky for dogs!)

Either way, I must admit. 'I never thought anything like this could ever happen to me!’ 

#yagottalaughaboutit

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

MY DARK REALITY

My 7am walk in the rain with the streetlights on.
TAKEN: SEPTEMBER 25th, 2018

So, it's official. I won't be heading into the sunshine at the fall back time change, as those strict savings were allocated toward lowering the purchase price of a new vehicle. Though I could have juggled and managed both financially, I'm keeping a stiff upper lip (whilst pouting profusely) by refusing to travel on previously earmarked savings or credit.

As a possible pick me up, I will report that I've decided only to listen to Bob Marley that week on the custom Bose sound system my new ride's equipped with, which could be deemed as a small concession, as the 'Port Carling-mobile' was a must have purchase.

'Must have’ ...an interesting approach to an item, isn't it?

Matter a fact, I was just talking to a couple of guys on my team last week about certain personality types and their somewhat incessant need for instant gratification of material purchases. That casual dialogue, led to a neat conversation about the understanding of want vs. need in the lifestyle spending department: In that I wanted to go to Jamaica in November, yet I was in need of another vehicle. 

Here's the skinny. When I walked to carpool this morning in the rain, the street lights were on, warning me that hell is on the horizon for me.  Hell may be a strong visual to inflict here but you can’t understand an others personal struggle with a lack of natural light until you’ve experienced its direct effect. Never the less, if I want to cross the pond for the first time for my next birthday, concessions had to be made and I had to come to grips with the dark reality that there will be very little fall sunlight. 

Let’s face it... I’m no spring chicken. For decades, money’s been squirreled away for that rainy day that'll most likely resemble this morning. In a perfect scenario, my attitude will be as positive as ever.

I'll be the life of the party, rocking out to AC-DC’s Shook Me All Night Long, gripping my walker, nursing a recently healed broken hip from break-dancing; in one very kick-ass mature lifestyle community.** 

Glass half full? 

It will be paid for... and I'll be revered by all, for still truly remembering the 1980's.

**: This kick-ass community may or may not be located in Jamaica!

SOME SUPER SIMPLE ADVICE

“Stay away from negative people... 
They always have a problem for every solution!” 
~ Albert Einstein

Are you going to Heaven or Hell?
I believe that you are perpetuating
one or the other in your everyday life!
TAKEN: JULY 2014

I have been doing a lot of reading lately about personalities. Not in the ‘disorder’ sense, that I have party of fifteen going on in my head & I’m the hostess. More about how to cope in a sandbox that can quickly fill up with hardwired negative minded peeps.

For quite sometime, I've been struggling with a person I must interact with on a regular basis. This past spring it became increasingly taxing, so I decided to delve in, research, and try to understand why.  

As expected, my surfing led me from one link to another, until I landed on a podcast that resonated. Short story long, it ended up discussing the theory of how our personality ultimately falls into one of three categories; positive, neutral, or negative.

Following that thought process and expanding my reading led me to my next clarifying moment: That a negative person doesn't really understand that they're negative, more they matter-a-factly find someone with a true positive vibe downright annoying.

That said, the more I read, the more I understood that a negative person that is forced to interact on a regular basis with a positive or neutral person, unleashes their mental frustrations by exercising passive aggressive tenancies; which are meant specifically to belittle, whilst pacifying their need for making the other feel as they do about their outlook on life in general.

Y'all know I steer clear of religion and politics here. And if you're looking for a free psychiatric assessment, I haven't a clue what I am talking about, so click the big X in the top right hand corner of your screen and move along.

What I will say, is that I honestly believe that life is all about personal choices. I never focus on what will happen in the afterlife, rather I am more about embracing a heaven or a hell each and every day.

How so?

Simple....

I believe if you always keep your face in the sunshine, it's hard to get lost in the sheer darkness that lurks in the shadows that will forever surround.

My 2 cents!

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

MEMORIES FROM THE VAULT

I miss ya Super Dave... Until we meet again!
TAKEN: AUGUST 2003

Many moons ago, I remember my boss telling me a story of when he would do accounting audits. He reminisced of how would walk into a place of business (confident, whilst full of business) always packing his must have staples in his briefcase: a pad of paper, his favourite pen, and a couple of really great books.

Upon arrival, when asked where/how he wanted to start, all he ever requested was a quiet space and possibly a door without a window. I distinctly remember him telling me that he could tell within 15 minutes of being put in said office,  based on their body language & behaviour, the exact level of detail that they needed to be audited. Which correlated his two synergies perfectly... A door that needed to be knocked upon, and really great books!

I am sharing that tidbit because this week's reminded me of a couple of really important things. I may not be a rocket scientist, yet I have a keen intellect about people and what makes them tick. Just like my dear buddy Dave, I always watch for the tells that always tell the truth.

Circa 2007, I had assistant that had an issue with a certain ethnicity. I wouldn’t call her a racist per se, because her only vague preconceived notion was that those hired didn't want to serve her at a level she felt she deserved.  

One day, I decided to show her what positive energy looked like. She went to the counter, ordered her coffee, turned back toward me and rolled her eyes. I looked her straight in the eye and said, ‘I need you to watch this….’. 

I automatically greeted the same person that she had deemed disappointing with a smile. I called her by the name on her name tag, which made another girl rally to help her. Without missing a beat, I thanked them both, which led to a third looking to see if I needed anything else. Every single person presented me with a smile and energy that matched mine. I left as a happy customer.

Walking away from the counter, I turned to my assistant and reminded her that any relationship or  interaction's always a two way street. ‘You get the energy back that you give out,’ I said.... We never spoke of the occasion again.

Why all the life lesson reminiscing? 

I got steamrolled by what I would classify as a perfect stranger this week. Completely and totally blindsided by someone that I know was simply mimicking how they thought they should behave. Though I disclosed in the moment that I was really uncomfortable, after the fact I reflected about Super Dave and his books…. And a gal that has gone on to be very successful, embracing positive energy.

The moral of my story? As cliché as it reads?

…You truly never really do get a second chance at first impression.

No matter how much you try to back-peddle after the fact!

MADE YOUR APPOINTMENT YET?

So, it’s been a little over a year since I began my quest for a clean bill of health. It started in my family doctor's office with a clear vision of me needing to establish a starting point for my mid-life body, giving me the ability to embrace it for the next twenty five plus years.

It immediately kicked off with a ton of blood work that quickly led to a series of ultrasounds, smears, specialists & 'oscopy procedures; and although it took longer than I'd ever imagined, all have proven to have been very necessary.

My point is that I had an outpatient procedure yesterday in hospital about 30 miles south of me. It was at my request, as we had ruled out the medication dealing with what was a definite growth wasn't having the overall impact that was expected.

Because I was the one pushing for the procedure, I didn't find the idea as personally stressful as say if I’d been given less than a week's notice and told it had to happen as soon as possible. In hindsight, I wish I would have been more mentally prepared and done some clear research to understand what I was about to endure. 

Who knew OHIP supplied very sexy paper bracelets
for enduring one of their life changing spa experiences?!
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 22nd, 2018

As silly as this may read, I believed that I was going to pop in and out of the outpatient department as fast as one does locally when they have a mammogram, which wasn't the case.

I should have picked up my doctors' vibe when he asked me, twice, 'if I would prefer to have a general anesthetic' and not remain awake.

I declined because I felt I had prepared myself for having the lump removed, yet what I didn't know was how painful and stressful being awake for the procedure would be. I actually think I went into a little bit of shock... Because by the time I dressed and said my goodbyes, I began to shake all over. I narrowly managed to get into the car before I had a total meltdown. I cried all the way home from the sheer physicality & emotional anxiety of what I'd just endured.

Now that I have had time to calm down, I don't regret going forward with the procedure. I was a tad surprised with the number of stitches I received and that it would take close to a month for them to heal but the experience is all a part of the bigger picture and my own philosophy, which is that no one should ever take their health for granted.

If I have to take a glass half full moment from the experience, it would have to be that I am so very grateful that I have always been aware of my body and any changes that are happening. Between self-examination and the simplistic generality of Web-MD, I hope to have stayed ahead of my biopsy results being cancerous.

If you haven't kept up on your bill of health, make that appointment today. If my post doesn't spell it out, understand that there are a million reasons why you should with the #1 reason being the single most important one of all.

... You're freaking worth it!

THE ART OF PATIENCE

Well, my almost year long quest for a clean bill of health had me starting my work day in my home office this morning. Closing in on the end of what feels has been a bit of a mini marathon, I am glad to share that I'm feeling fan-tab-u-lus!

Because I had an appointment, I didn’t have to meet the carpool this morn. Yet, as I do every morning, I woke up on schedule to a steaming pot of fresh perked coffee and let the pups out to do what we all of do when we wake up in the morning.

Still dark outside, I found it odd that I had to almost coerce Dot back into the house with treats. As soon as the sun rose she wanted back out, so just before 8am I let her go. At her age, there’s no need to tie her as she always stays within earshot; or so I thought.

Working away I lost track of time. As my tummy rumbled for sustenance, I realized I hadn’t heard a peep from Dot. Not coming when called, I ventured into the back gully, all gussied up in the ugliest bathrobe & drop dead bedhead imaginable. What I found was my pup no longer able to stand. She'd clearly remained on high alert for her arch red nemesis for more than 3 hours, which easily displays the art of patience. 

Spottie Dottie on high alert for Big Red!
TAKEN: OCTOBER 11th, 2017

I have been thinking a lot about patience lately. Specifically certain people around me, and their lack thereof it. Is it a symptom of midlife and old age? Because mine seems to be increasing, opposite of my husband whose is steadfastly plummeting. Five/six years ago I use to tune it out. A couple of years ago I use to point it out. Now a days I just tend to roll my eyes, laugh about it, and carry on.

The funny thing is the topic of patience comes up once in a while in our carpool chit chat sessions and the Sweeny-Meister always wonders why I don’t let it affect me. I usually have a response that gets a true belly laugh out of her but when the laughter ceases, my final summation is always the same: why would I bother?

I truly believe that I am at the point in my life where I pick my battles and the truth of the matter is I simply no longer have any desire to fight. Though strong in spirit and a full blown extrovert, I’d rather be alone than be around unnecessary drama.

Honestly, if I look deep, I think of patience as that trigger that proves I'll never stop hoping. I truly do have such hope. So much like Dottie, I'm unwilling to give up. Even though, more often than not, my heart knows the truth.

... That I'm simply nothing but an absolute idiot. A fiercely patient, absolute idiot.

Thanks for reading.

BAD LUCK OR LIFE LESSON?

For a very specific reason, at 5:15 a.m. yesterday morning, I reflected that I’d read somewhere that there's no such thing as good luck or bad luck. Instead, the big picture theory's that life itself is simply a vast array of either life lessons or blessings. Trust me when I share that when I mumbled those paraphrased words aloud before dawn yesterday morn it involved some extreme profanity; so I'll breeze over those specifics and fast forward to my point.

You can imagine my struggle to understand my general ability to compartmentalize my lot called a lesson whilst standing in the middle of my flooded downstairs family room at dawn. For instance, should that truly be the case, how the hell can I get out of this overrated classroom teaching me life lessons that mimic reality? 

Short story long, I returned home after an amazing weekend to a burst hot water tank. Now, here's where it gets interesting. I must say, what a difference 36 hours makes.

Before and after. It makes me sad.
TAKEN: JULY 10th, 2017

With the kids grown and gone, I head downstairs no more than once a week to clean. Because our home is without air-conditioning, from May to October, that space is pretty much doggie central. I keep it cool for the pups, whom generally scurry to the door when I pull in the driveway, so I never feel the need to visit them in their space.

To compound that, the laundry gets done by hand via my glass washboard at the cottage. So, though I still clean their space weekly, I have no need for the laundry room. I guess I could admit that I'm grateful something unexpectedly tumbled down the stairs yesterday morning, or I wouldn't have gone downstairs. Could going downstairs be characterized as a blessing?

Anyway, by mid-morning, I recalled I did a lot of research before we pulled up the carpet and replaced it with laminated flooring, not hardwood. Yesterday, my research became one of those things in disguise. The floating floor we'd installed was up in about an hour and a half, presenting me with blessing #2.

Blessing number 3? Treat people the way you want to be treated. One call and my new high efficiency hot water tank was purchased and installed by early afternoon. With fans oscillating and dehumidifiers buzzing I can only hope that I can afford to replace the flooring I really loved.

Afterall, we all know hydro gets paid first and I can see the spike in consumption from the instant the tank went down.  Though I had an amazing weekend, when all is said and done I am thinking I could have flown to see my best electronic friend for the lot of hydro that was consumed waiting for me to experience my first blessing. 

So I'll leave you with two things: Enough with the life lessons & I hate Hydro.

OK, three things. Lastly.... Ya gotta laugh about it!

I PROMISED TO PAY IT FORWARD

For the last few weekends I’ve tried, unsuccessfully, to wrap my head around reading a specific book I purchased from my favourite used bookstore before my trip to Cuba.

For varying reasons, after a dozen or more tries, I couldn't seem to make it past page eighteen. Ultimately discouraged, I abandoned my efforts last Saturday & conceded that after more than three decades, I’d finally discovered an offering from the author that I didn’t find remotely appealing.

Throwing down that official gauntlet had me rambling about my cottage bookshelves for something to sink my imagination into. Then, out of the blue, my husband reminded me of a hard cover book I was gifted by a total stranger on my April flight from New Orleans to Dallas-Fort Worth. As you can expect, there’s a story there.

Once I took my seat, a lovely lady with the window seat cheerfully greeted me. I settled in, lowering my tray to make room for my tablet and the paperback book I was in the midst of reading. Out of the blue she announced that she too enjoyed the writer, then produced her newest offering in hardcover. She went on to explain that years ago her husband joined a book club that automatically delivered him the new releases to which he'd present those as gifts to his wife.

As quick as my envy ensued, I instantly had a WTF moment when she confessed it would be nice if he made more of an effort to shop for her so she got to read something else once in a while. I know it’s easy enough to have a book automatically delivered to a specific address but I found the fact that he would gift wrap them and surprise her with them without occasion very sexy. 

Of course, when it comes to gauging romantic gestures toward me I have little, actually zero personal experience. If you'll recall, I'm the gal that has to research and plan her own birthday trips for two every year. Not only that, on my last milestone celebration, my husband had his balloon offering delivered on the wrong day; so perhaps now you can appreciate how I would find a gift wrapped book almost orgasmic!

Anyway, we continued to chat about various books when half way through the flight she pulled out a second hardcover book asking if I’d read it. When I admitted I hadn’t, she generously gave me her never read book. I was both shocked and grateful and I accepted. As we both held onto the book as it transferred ownership, I promised her that when I was finished reading it, I would pay it forward. I would give it to another in hopes that they too would pass it on to someone new.

If you're interested in receiving this special gem, let me know. After you're done with it, feel free to ask to borrow any one of my 40+ Danielle Steele books or any of my new to me used books I aquire from The Owl Pen downtown. I don't care that they won't be gift wrapped, the fact that the owner will call me and tell me new ones have arrived (giving me the first right of refusal) is still very sexy.

What? Are you surprised that practicality won out over romance?

After 30 years of conditioning, I'm honestly OK with it. Which is why I refuse to apologize for enjoying these types of books, nor care to explain why I will gladly tune into a Hallmark Channel flick over a Martin Scorsese movie in a heart beat.

It's my mirage theory: In the absence of water, I tend to eat the sand.

Thank goodness that crap contains lots of fiber!!

Tackled a new book & a Canada Day drink with my best electronic friend simultaneously.
Neither disappointed.
TAKEN: July 1st, 2017

A SMALL TOWN IN MOURNING

Last Friday night after arriving back in town late, I quickly picked up my pups at the house and headed to the cottage. I prepared a quick meal, read a book for a bit, then decided to watch a movie. Shortly after midnight I headed upstairs and checked my Facebook one last time for good luck. My entire body froze as I read the tragic headline aloud: Woman dead following gun shots in Wellington Street area, Bracebridge.

As soon as I looked at the online news photo, I knew who'd been killed. In hindsight, the more unsettling in the moment was that before my husband saw any photos, he matter-a-fact-ly announced her murderer by name. Almost a week later, I am truly sad to write that we were both correct. Once again, our small town mourns as a wonderful woman tragically lost her life in the terrible war against domestic violence.

Gone but never to be forgotten.
TAKEN: MAY 29th, 2017

Out of respect for the family, my post isn’t to retrace steps, nor point fingers. My personal reason for writing's more to put a focus on awareness. You see, the morning following the incident, a publication ban was placed on the episode. For the rest of the weekend the radio waves remained quiet of the incident and the online posts were only updating readers that there had been first degree murder charges laid and nothing else because the ban was in place. All I kept asking myself was... will a deliberate hush of quiet allow the loss of this beautiful soul to be in vain?

The thought of protecting the murderers' identity was absolutely and utterly incomprehensible me. I got stuck at the simplistic thinking of why should he be given the luxury? Shouldn’t he be showered with the exact amount of respect he offered his wife? As I began to voice my concern to others, every single person expressed the very same opinion; that he deserved nothing. 

Finally, Monday afternoon I took it upon myself to start making calls. My first was to one of her closest friends. I listened intently then explained the reason for my call. I wanted to rally support to get the publication ban lifted. The sole purpose being, if removing the gag order saved only one woman as a result of understanding how last Friday nights tragedy transpired, her death would not be in vain and she would be the others saviour. I am pleased to report that the publication ban was lifted at the beginning of her assailants bail hearing on the morning of May 30th.

So I beg all of you reading, no matter how painful the idea of domestic violence is, please talk about it. Talk about the ‘who, what, where, when and how’...  hell, yell it from the roof top. Because it's my humble opinion that in a society where one in three are the hard abuse statistics, awareness will always be our best front line defense tactic in saving innocent lives.

Outside of that, what I do know to be true is that I am going to follow the upcoming events at the courthouse intently and with a true sense of personal commitment. Moving forward I am going to spearhead more fundraising to help any of those one in three women that are currently under fire. Partially because I am blessed that I will never be in need of the truly valuable support services and secure shelter, yet more importantly to maximize the hope of never having to write about this again.

Thanks for reading but more importantly no matter where you live or what you do, please always work towards raising awareness against domestic abuse and improving these horrible and very senseless crimes.

Rest in peace Wendy Boland. You may be gone but I promise you will never be forgotten.

I IS FOR IDIOT

When I was away, I posted a photo of my friend Darin and I to my Instagram with a caption that read, 'a good heart is always rewarded during a trying time.' Sounds simple enough but the other side of that proverbial coin is: don't be an idiot and you'll arrive at where you're meant to be relatively unscathed.

Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you wanted to be heard, yet in the grand scheme of things you just walked away and moved on? I find myself doing that more and more as I transition in mid life. Not because I've lost my edge, more that I've consciously decided that I no longer wish to associate with people that aren't meant to be in my wheel-house.

Heading home from Dallas to Toronto this morning, I couldn't help but stare out the window on the tarmac and reflect on the plethora of bad behaviors I witnessed yesterday, as a few hundred of us got delayed in New Orleans due to extreme weather and a mechanical failure to our plane.

Almost midnight & still in line.
TAKEN: APRIL 10th, 2017

 Twelve hours later and finally in Dallas, I had to shake my head as a gentleman was verbally abusive to the nice lady trying to help him out of the unfortunate situation we found ourselves in. If I had to describe how I felt in the moment, it was general sadness.

I know full well that everyone reacts to stress differently, I get that. Hell, no one knows that better than yours truly; but bullying the one person there to unconditionally help you is just plain asinine.

As we greet Spring and welcome Easter next weekend, it feels great to have finally made it through another long Canadian winter. As we soar home at 32,000 feet (and type on my tablet and listen to Don Henley croon through my Blackberry)  I'll leave you with another of my simple life observations.

When you feel you're arguing with an idiot... Be sure they aren't doing the same! 

Thanks again for reading.

WILL THIS GENERATION MANAGE?

Well, I spent my morning doing the house budget for the next three months, as well as really analyzing the one I had in place for the prior three. The good news is the next three look outstanding. The last three? Absolutely, horrendous. Knowing full well there was more going out than going in, early-November I made a surprise announcement to my grown children: “The Bank... IS CLOSED!”

I should've done it this past summer and I have no one to blame but myself. Against any/all good judgement, I am the one that kept the 24 hour wicket open. It took a couple of very large dollar (hollow promised) 'I'll pay you back' incidents for me to realize they had no intention of doing so; so I finally shut 'er down.

A very necessary... But dreaded task!
TAKEN: DECEMBER 30th, 2016

When I think back, I credit my mother with a number of my character traits but there are two in particular I am grateful for as I muddle through midlife. 

She always taught me to pay myself first, which I do; and the second is that (from her wheelchair) she taught me how to structure/follow a monthly house budget. I still remember she use to make me type it out, after she passed I had a ledger book, now I simply use a formulated excel spreadsheet. Today, I offered to teach my daughter how easy it is; she agreed to try.

Budget mentoring aside, as I look at the next three months, I see some very solid savings into April. I would be lying if I didn’t say that I was disappointed last fall to have to cancel my 2017 birthday trip to China. I worked extremely hard to save that money, and because I have always refused to travel on credit nor retirement savings, a change in plans was my only option. At the end of it all, I just keep telling myself that those dollars were simply needed somewhere else. Somewhere much more important. With a deep hope, that when transferred, they were truly appreciated. 

Now that my first quarter budget is officially done, I need to find my bottle of glue. Time to put that blasted piggy bank I decimated a few months back, back together. You see, many moons ago I went for the really shiny, pretty porcelain finished piggy, when my gut told me the practical purchase was the ugly plastic one with the key in its belly. Again, my own fault.

Now, where the hell is that glue!!

RISE AND SHINE AND SHE'S GONE

Yesterday was one of those forecasted rainy days that I'd been looking forward to all week. Got my indoor cottage chores done, got my in town shopping chores done, then headed to the salon and had my hair chopped off. Hold your gasps of disbelief, it's not like I ordered a number 3 razor buzz cut. Yet, my long curls that flowed to the middle of my back, are now the shortest they've been since 2012. No regrets here. I'm glad I did it. Just like in other areas of yours truly, I was in need of change.

At this stage in my life, I consider myself blessed. I knock wood because nothing is neither tragic, nor conflicted; though I will admit that some thing's been bothering me for an extended period of time. It was never a great big boulder in front of me, more an annoying pebble in my shoe. For whatever reason, I'd buried that annoyance deep, as well as any ability to deal with it. As part of this next wave of change, I am pleased to report that the pebble has been dealt with .

Like every single person that is reading this electronic journal entry, I have some very serious crap that is buried deep. It's taken me a long time to compartmentalize specifics (which is code for defining a personal coping mechanism) but it works for me. My epiphany was when I recently realized, that over the last 30 years, 25 of mine have been about seeking light at the end of the tunnel, and the last 5 of mine have been the real journey. Those were the years that have been spent learning how to embrace the light that has been chased so hard and earned.

Out of clutter, find simplicity. ~ Albert Einstein
TAKEN: SEPTEMBER 11th, 2016

Speaking of light... I woke in the dark this morning, grabbed my robe and slippers, then headed outside to watch the sun rise. Bundled up, I went up from the dock, grabbed my camera, then snapped my photo at 7:08am. With my moment captured, I finished my coffee, packed everything up, and moved everything home for the season. Not gonna lie, it feels different this year, and finding the words to describe are hard.

If I had to find one word, if I had to choose only one?

I guess I'd just simply define it as... peace.

I, SPY, WITH MY ONE GOOD EYE...

I believe that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. A personal affirmation of what one truly sees, feels and appreciates for themselves. Those thoughts are theirs to cherish as they see fit, as any perceptions of beauty are ultimately personal.

As you know, for the last number of years, everything's become a great big blur in my everyday life. Tired of the strain and frustration, I bit the bullet, picked up the phone and finally went for an eye exam after work today.

If my pic looks remotely blurry, call for an eye exam!
TAKEN: OCTOBER 10th, 2015

Though it had been a while since I was last checked for specs, it felt nice to know I was still a valued client. Considering how some approach business in Muskoka, I was a tad surprised by the aforementioned but even more impressed when my Optometrist made a point of welcoming me back. 

Truth is, I didn't think he'd even remembered my name and imagine my surprise when he causally asked..."Do you have any idea when the last time was you were in to see me?"

I guessed but was wrong. I was off by a couple of years. Off the top of my head I predicted 30 years. He confirmed it had been mere 28! 

No matter how many decades had passed, I obviously knew who he was. He, on the other hand, hadn't a clue who'd booked his 5pm appointment. I was nervous, as this was something I truly didn't want to do, and was convinced by the time I left, he thought I was a complete and total loon. (The good news is, everyone reading already knows I'm a loon, so we'll label the good doc hyper-instinctive, and move on.)

After he emailed me some very sexy pictures of my eyeballs, he explained my prescription, and we were done. He mentioned that he'd like me to return in a year. Then, without missing a beat, he said... "So I'll see you next year, or sometime in the next 28!" 

We laughed and I thanked him for his time.

After I left, I did have one question. Why didn't he try and sell me a pair of glasses? 

My guess is that I paid $125.00 for my appointment today and that's the only cash flow he'd seen from me in 336 months. As we all know in Business, time is money. So, in his world, does that make me a tire kicker?

Here's hoping he'll be generally empathetic and labels me..."optically challenged."

U IS FOR UNBELIEVEABLE

A year ago last week, my husband and I scrambled to arranged for a plane ticket for our only daughter and brought her home. She'd moved 3,400 kms away from us the year previous and for the five months before her return, we'd been estranged. It was a trying time for all but the relationship that we knew was poisonous from the start was over and she headed east to start anew.

Focused on the positive, our entire family promised we wouldn't press discussion about what had transpired, nor dwell on the mean things said. The truth was, when we picked her up at the airport we immediately knew she had a long road ahead of her. She would need to heal; mentally, physically and most importantly emotionally.

Staccs heading out with her crew.
TAKEN: APRIL 23rd, 2016

Well, with all of that in the past, I am pleased to report that a year later she's doing well... It's unbelievable!

Just look at her. Physically and spiritually, everyday she morphing back to a person that can finally experience joy.

Gone's the boyfriend that use to abuse her. Back is my gal, embracing a life she knew she was always worthy of. She's happy. Has a job she enjoys and has reconnected with friends she'd been told to shun because of the relationship she'd been in. 

A few months ago she began dating again. It's nice to see gentleman callers coming around and I'm glad she immediately explains she's in no hurry. I suspect it has something to do with the trust issues she has developed. In time, I'm sure those scars will heal too. 

WE BROKE UP VIA TEXT!

It’s official. I am definitely a sucker for punishment.

For those of you that are new to reading here; since 2013 I have participated in an international blogging challenge called April A-Z. In a nutshell, I have to blog about a letter of the alphabet every single day (excluding Sundays) for the entire month of April.

I’m not sure why I waited until the 11th hour to officially make my decision to participate. I guess it's because deep down inside I wasn’t sure I wanted to. You see, last year it definitely took a toll. I was away (in Samana, DR) with shitty WI-FI trying to write and post in real time on the fly. It was extremely frustrating, an all-around awful week away, and it showed in my offerings.

I suppose you could say that because I don't write for a living, I wasn't sure I wanted to jeopardize my 10 day vacation, not to mention once again own the grueling task of writing 26 posts in 30 days. I guess you can say that for the first time since I started this electronic journal, found me sitting on the proverbial blogging fence. I have little to no stress in my life, why in the hell would I go looking for it?!

It's simple. It is the one specific time thoughout the year that I enjoy the specific forum of connecting and meeting other bloggers. By participating I see my largest increase in readership within those 30 days, so the stress of participation does have its perks.

So, my goal this year is to have a stress-free experience and I am confident our arrangement will work out. You seem I sent a text to my stress and ended our relationship specifically on my terms, then blocked them from communicating with me after.

What? Isn’t that how you dump someone today? ...Via BBM, WhatsAp, iChat, Facebook, or a simple text message?

If not, DO NOT tell my stress.

...I hit send, bolted, then landed in my very cool happy place to which they do not have a forwarding address!

FROM THE CHEAP SEATS

Boy, I hate to be blind-sided. It doesn’t happen very often but when it does, I always try to truly understand what the hell happened. When hit on the blind side, I immediately ask myself these two questions. Do I stand up for myself and explain? Or, do I take it up the ying-yang and file away the specifics (in this instance, discovering someone's two faced) for future reference? Friday, to ultimately keep the peace, I chose the latter. 

Not gonna lie, the entire incident still has me frazzled. My metaphoric ying-yang took it so bad, that it reminded me of the joke of the old farmer and his wife. You know the one, where he's telling all the other farmers what a romantic guy he can be. Boasting to be such a generous lover that he always utters those three special words to his wife before he makes love to her. His loving words were always... “Brace yourself Gertie!”

Yup, I was poor Gert last Friday and there wasn’t a tube of lube anywhere in sight. The official result of a two-faced blindside. The monster that had roared at me 24 hours earlier, was no longer the bully but the victim. I never saw it coming but reading their words showed me their experience of being in our exact scenario. 

Still brewing from the fact that I folded like a lawnchair, I was stuck. So I sent a BBM message to my buddy A-Rod this afternoon is search of a bit of a reality check. I knew by reaching out, my tale of two faces would not land on deaf ears, and he'd tell me if I was being an idiot. (You see, he takes the gold medal for having dealt with the village idiot for years, so I truly value his opinion.) 

As expected, by the time I left to go home today he’d helped me see the light. Which is that an idiot can’t help themselves. They ultimately have an overwhelming amount of IDIOT in their overall genetic make up. In a nutshell, an idiot is who they are and what they will always remain.

Rhondi Rule #782: Never argue with an idiot. They'll just lower you down to their level, then beat you with experience! 

Truth? Not following my exact advice last Thursday morning is why I was blind-sided.

...Sucks to be right!