HAPPY TEN YEARS LATER

Enjoying the very first 
Fire & Ice Festival
TAKEN: JANUARY 30th, 2016

 

When I was growing up, enjoying the Muskoka Winter Carnival weekend was something celebrated by young and old within the entire District simultaneously. Then, over the years, lack of participation and increase in overall expense saw all our communities cease celebrating with Skokie except the Town of Gravenhurst. 

Well, more than a decade ago the Town of Bracebridge decided to begin coordinating a one-day festival with a unique approach to a traditional winter carnival that they brilliantly branded Fire & Ice. 

Where the main street is closed at dusk the night before and truck loads of snow is imported in which turning our signature street into massive tubing hill. This plus a skating trail and ice sculptures in the park create the ice part of the festival’s name.

The fire part is created by performing fire artists and firepits throughout downtown and a large fireworks display at dusk.

Once the fireworks are over the tubing hill is then broken down, loaded back into trucks and the busily attended street and parks for the day return to the dreary January weather by the next morning.

As it has been ten years this weekend since we first celebrated, I couldn’t help but Google, which anniversary gift was earmarked for the milestone; it is tin.

My mind immediately races back to my childhood and a shiny vintage tin snow saucer.

And how perfect it would be to fly down Manitoba Street at breakneck speeds on Saturday afternoon on that puppy!

 Oh to be young again...

#yagottalaughaboutit

MY NIGHT WALKER

My beautiful Miya living her best life.
TAKEN: JANUARY 12th, 2026

With 2026 officially under way, I am seriously committed to exercising more, losing weight, and living a healthier lifestyle. You see, for the first time in my life, I am feeling the effects of sitting in front of a computer ten hours a day; and not making myself a priority. 

The first week was pretty brutal but I am extremely determined, so I persevered. 

You have no idea how much crap you have hanging around in your system after the unnecessary holiday bingeing, but I feel that with those first seven days behind me, I am definitely on the right track.

For me, it is about a kilometer walk to the mailbox, so I started going daily, on the last doggie daycare break. The other thing I began doing was head down to the end of our cul-de-sac and back. For that, I take both pups.

Then, I drop off Katie Kate and Miya and I head toward town. She is much more laid back than the wee one and always stays focused on her surroundings. The other one, not so much, and I need to keep her out of harms way.

Anyway, on our way back from town, the orange hew in the distance lets us know we are getting close to home. 

With only 42 days until I depart on my cousins trip to Hautulco Mexico, I know my personal goals won't be met by then. 

Instead, the quest for my waist will hopefully have my goal within my sights before I leave for Bahamas for my birthday weekend.

Wish me (and my emotional support night walker) luck!

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.

MY FOOD BANK OF THOUGHTS

Well, it’s that time of year again. When our local economy for tourism dwindles and the plethora of cottagers close up until the lakes open again next year. That said, I think you really have to live here to truly appreciate the seasonality of income and the impact it has on our year round residents.

As you may or may not know, this coming weekend is when Canadians celebrate Thanksgiving. As a result, our Oldtimers hockey team held a food drive last night to help feed our families in need. No one gets paid for their time, nor the resources they provided and their only reward is knowing they are providing a very valuable and much needed community service.

2016 Muskoka Oldtimers Fall Food Drive
TAKEN: OCTOBER 4th, 2016

Short story long, when the knock came to our door last night our three dogs went bonkers. Through the glass in my front door, I could see two young girls wearing hockey jerseys with identifying lanyards draped around their neck. At the end of my drive, a pick-up truck to carry the donations they would have to walk to collect. Immediately, I knew it was the food drive being promoted over the local radio station, so I hollered over the dogs asking them to sit tight as we gathered our items.

As we wandered back up from the door and glanced out our kitchen window, we noticed the girls were headed next door. My husband joked that “they’d give way better stuff than us,” so we watched. We could see our neighbour, whom had done an extravagant exterior landscape renovation this past summer, speaking with the girls. Then, for some very personal reasons I’m sure, closed their door and sent them away empty handed. We were in shock.

After about 10 minutes of dialogue, we realized our opinions on the matter had us racing to the bottom. Bitching about what we’d witnessed wouldn’t make a difference, yet packing up another bag of food on our neighbours' behalf, just might help feed another family in need; which is exactly what we did.

We bolted down the street, explained why we wanted to give more, and I asked the girls if I could take their picture. Not to point out the glass half empty but to post and thank all of the students, parents, grandparents, uncles, sisters, cousins, brothers, for their servitude. 

I know last night I announced to my Facebook friends that I was feeling a rant coming on, which is probably what they were expecting to read. Instead, after a good night sleep and some reflection, my mindset has changed. A day later, I have reduced my emotions to a 50/50 race between hope and karma. 

Hope, yes I definitely felt hope last night. Young people giving back, working hard and staying positive and the majority of the community working together. Yet after what I witnessed from my neighbours, the other side of my brain is pulling an equally strong Karma vibe. 

Guess only time will tell on all fronts.

Thanks for reading.

ONE PERSON'S TRASH...

You must have heard the saying, ‘one person’s trash is another person’s treasure.’ For me personally, I always use to say it before I'd enter a Goodwill store AND I have a girlfriend that references it when speaking of her once divorced spouse before they wed. Either way, the verbiage quoted above applied to my daughter and I this past weekend as we hit the local yard sale circuit.

With my daughter moving into her new digs on June 1st, and yours truly in search of a good (new to me) lawn mower, I suggested we blitz the town last Saturday. Our first stop found me at the home of an old high school teacher, that in the day coached the BMLSS golf team. 

Though I left her yard without the mower I was in search of, I scored two new additions to my golf bag. Even more astounding, I couldn’t believe that she was only asking $5.00 for each. When, for the very first time I offered more yard sale cash than was being asked, she simply replied “I was telling my husband that there comes a time when you have to decide which clubs in the golf bag stay, and which you feel you can finally let go of." 

Elated, I said…”You'll be very pleased to know they are going to a very loving home!”

I'm gonna need balls... I am in 3 tourneys in June alone!!
TAKEN: MAY 28th, 2016

Next stop, again no lawn mower. Instead, it had me build on the new to me 9 & 11 wood (short game gems) I’d just acquired.

As I handed the gentleman my toonie for his dozen used golf balls, his comment was a matter a fact. “I see you immediately went for the good stuff.” He was correct.

Anyway, landing home without what I was initially in search of, has me throwing this cosmic question out to the masses of my electronic journal. Would anyone care to mow my lawn? 

You see, I’ve been doing it myself for the last number of years, which apparently is no longer going to be my option.

Why? …Because I’ll be too busy on the golf course.

O IS FOR OVERFLOW

For the last few years, my sleepy little Ontario town  has suffered terribly as a result higher than normal water levels and an unorganized Ministry of Natural Resources. 

I snapped this 2 weeks after the worst flooding ever to hit us.
TAKEN: APRIL 2013 

An act of God isn't covered by insurance. Proving that is wasn't, has been an even bigger task for home/cottage owners, with a government entity being accused of wrong doing.

I'm not looking to blame for the 2016 overflow, just trying to understand so that it doesn't keep happening. 

CLICK HERE 

to view a CTV news clip on this years flooding.

Oh, that's my buddy Dan being interviewed. A long standing Muskoka resident & builder.

BETTER LATE THAN NEVER?

Here it is... The very first picture I posted to Instagram.
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 26th, 2016

In late October, my Boss wandered into my office and told me that he thought the company should have a presence on Instagram. As many of you know, I am a self-declared “social media junkie” so I was immediately a tad embarrassed. When he asked me what was wrong, I shrugged my shoulders and explained that Instagram was the one medium that I’d never ventured into. Without hesitation, he confidently gave me direction. “...Let's get at it!”

The very next day, we dove in head first and each created a personal account. He immediately began to post and share. Then, the following Saturday night I took my phone for a late night swim in the frigid fall water of Orillia Lake. Though I pulled my Blackberry out of the water and gave her mouth to mouth, she never truly recovered. From that point, my phone lost 90% of its functionality including the camera. Meaning, until I decided which phone I would upgrade to, Instagram would have to wait.

Well, I finally bit the bullet last week and bought a new phone, so I started to read and understand just what the hell it is Instagram does. Like anything, some bash it and others love it. I guess my main comment is that I’m just not sure what the hell to do with it.

So, with not a dime in my pocket to buy a clue as to how the the platform works, today I shared my very first Instagram post via iGrann (the posting option for a Blackberry). I'm always brutally honest, so you won't be surprised to read that I had to use Google to help me get it done. I posted what I had to say as a comment (with a typo) and sent it out to amazing 51 people that have followed me from that very first day I registered in hopes that content might eventually follow. 

To keep it simple, I kept my Twitter handle. You see, my Boss didn't use Twitter before I arrived and these months later he's really enjoying it. How do I know? He started playfully greeting me when he arrived in the morning using that nickname. Not gonna lie, when I hear... "Good morning @Rhon2theDee" I instantly smile.

Anyway, wish me luck on the Instagram front. Oh... and ANY help or advice on how to navigate the social media beast is truly appreciated.

TIMING IS EVERYTHING!

I'll remember this moment for a very long time. BIZARRE!
TAKEN: JULY 24th, 2015

With summer in full bloom, I took last Friday to myself. I walked with Sweetie downtown to grab an ice cream cone and to wait for word that my friend had safely landed his plane at Muskoka Airport from his home base in Cleveland. 

I find it hard to fathom that he can be to me (or at least wheels to the ground in Muskoka from Cleveland) quicker than I can get in the car and drive to Toronto.

Long story short he was late. I was worried and Sweetie couldn't wait any longer to meet him. So I loaded her onto the trolley at the Falls and Puddy and I headed back through the downtown awaiting my good news call.

Here's where the story gets kind of neat. As I bent down to take this picture, another American friend was about to exit one of the storefronts in the distance. I didn't know it at the time and there was zero expectation that we would see each other, yet imagine my surprise when  he merged onto the sidewalk in front of me. It had been three years since we'd last met face to face.

When I called out to him, I honestly don't think he recognized me at first. At least that's how I read his face. To be fair, I don't blame him. Who would expect to bump into someone and their dog during regular business hours? Either way, I'm glad we chatted. My life may have moved away from the industry he services but it was nice to discuss my upcoming return face to face. Three years later I still feel the way I did when we were working together, which is that he's a really good person.

As my Cleveland buddy and I enjoyed lunch today I wanted to share how his stronger than normal headwind, changed my fate and had me bump into an old friend; yet, I didn't. Instead we talked for an hour about Muskoka and his quest to retire and buy a cottage here.

At the end of the day I think he could love Muskoka as much as our family does. The American dollar is strong and interest rates are extremely low. I guess we'll just have to wait and see where things go with that. Because, as Friday once again reinforced...

Timing is everything!

GREENER GRASS... INSTANTLY!

♫♪♫ Sittin' on the dock on the bay.... ♫♪♫
TAKEN: JUNE 27th, 2015

After finishing my chores yesterday, I hopped in the car, grabbed a bite to eat and headed to one of my favourite places to enjoy my spoils; the wharf downtown.

As I sat in the car and watch a skillful seagull seduce me for my last bite, I couldn’t help but enjoy my front row view to the very significant changes made across the bay.

With my belly full, I started my walkabout. Even though it was unseasonably cold, it didn’t matter because there was a buzz of people everywhere. A quick scan of the busy climate found a cheery disposition accompanying all. Matter a fact, no one I chatted up made mention of a glass half empty, just the upbeat disclosure that they are happy to be out and about without having to wear the earmuffs and mitts they needed last Wednesday morning!

I have to admit that I’m not sure if it’s the presence of my camera or my easy going sense of humour that makes people want to tell me their life stories. Though you all know I am very social (and I do like to generally try to please people) the type of person I never have time for chit chat with is someone that starts every third sentence with “I’m sorry but…”. 

Not because I don’t want to accept their never-ending apology, more that I see them as somewhat of a lost soul. Generally unpleasant and extremely insecure. I find their upfront need to apologize as their way of absolving themselves of any political incorrectness that is most certainly going to instantly follow. You see, I find that behaviour to be nothing but a habit and never genuine.

Not gonna lie. As I snapped my pic yesterday, a certain person (that I just described) immediately came to mind. Though our acquaintance has ended, I’ll always wish I would have asked her one last question. It simply would have been: “What would ultimately make your grass greener?”

My guess is that she's so miserable she wouldn’t know how to respond yet offer a list of people who’s lawn had died, a list twice a long of other peoples lawns she wanted kill off in the next 60 days, and would end her rant by announcing that she'd officially placed a hit on the idiot that had recently stole her lawn mower (which had been safely parked in her garage since last fall). The latter is ultimately why she could never be happy with the grass she currently had. Just sayin'.

Because you know me so well, I have to ask. Do you know what instantly makes my grass greener? A great day like yesterday and never EVER having to hear a certain someone utter the words “I’m sorry but…” again.

See, told ya. It really is the little things in life!

FIFTY SPLASHES OF GREY!

I may be extremely outgoing but believe me when I reinforce that I am the least spontaneous person you'll ever meet. I guess that's why I can’t help but wonder if that’s why I compartmentalize so well. Everything is neatly packed into silos before I ever start tending the farm. I'm not sure if anyone can relate; but for me, everything is very black and white. Occasionally, a splash of grey may creep in. Unfortunately, a sexy fella named Christen is no where to be found when it does show up!

Oh, the childhood memories I have. What a great place to live!
TAKEN: JANUARY 23rd, 2014

For a reason (beyond silly) I got 'stuck' this past Friday. I guess you could say I got stuck in the black and white of it all.

The more I looked, the worse it got. I simply couldn't find, yet desperately needed, about fifty splashes of grey. 

Finally, filled with angst and totally exasperated, I bundled myself up and went for a walk. Half an hour later, here's where I ended up.

Coming down the hill I couldn't help but notice the vibrant leaves that had held on and made it until the January thaw. The closer I got, the more the burst of red stayed with me. When I hit the bottom of the hill, it was like my life flashed in front of me. 

I pictured Kelvin Grove in it's original state. I imagined the gang of us teens swimming to the famous sandbar (that the RMS Seguin got hung up on during it's last trek up the Muskoka River). My eyes and thoughts moved to the the far right where our wedding party stood to have our formal pictures taken. Then, they shifted to the far left and to my quirky sidekick. I imagined he and I eating lunch at our favourite picnic table more than a decade ago. Oh, the Canada Day fireworks with the kids, the risky swimming at the base of the falls when I was a kid... The pond hockey surface. Then, it hit me.

The boulder in front of me is really nothing but a pebble. I'm not lost in the forest, because a forest is very deeply rooted and unable to change. I see the one tree in front of me as a survivor. Some days, I am sure it sucks that it doesn't have other trees around it to talk to but let's face it... Trees don't talk.! (Well, maybe if they are on a really great acid trip but not in everyday life, which is my very round about point.)

At the end of the day, life really is very black and white. Yesterday only proved to me that it's each and everyone of our jobs to find the colours, embrace them...and stay the hell out of the forest.

It's just as silly and simple as that!

AIRING SOME VERY DIRTY LAUNDRY!

Let me start by saying that I have been friends with Rod Bullock since Public School. 

Actually, I asked him this morning when he started working for Mr. Burton at Centennial Coin Laundry, and together we figured out it was the Fall we were in grade nine, which was 1979. All of Mr. Burton’s customers loved him. So, no one in town was even remotely surprised when Mr. B sold the business to Rod. That was over thirty three years ago.

I don’t think I've ever shared this before but about three years ago I started doing my laundry at the laundry mat. I never really knew what the going rate for doing laundry outside the home was (and with Rod’s parking lot always full) I found myself next door at Fabricare for almost a year. Then, in the late Fall of 2012, my husband realized a couple of hours a week WAS much more efficient and agreed to help. The first thing he did was switch us over to Centennial Coin Laundry so that he could visit with Rod.

Well, when I changed jobs last year, my husband’s job also changed. Now he was the one that worked a few hours every weekend getting his guys ready for a smooth running Monday morning, so once again I assumed the laundry duties. Well, last Saturday, Rod’s was totally jammed, so I found myself next door at what-cha-ma-call-its. When I entered, I discover I was all alone; the only person doing laundry in a facility that feels twice the size of Rod’s.

The first thing I noticed was the price of the washers. The second thing I noticed, was a label on the dryers stating that I should expect to pay three plus dollars to dry an average load of laundry. I found that odd, because I normally only pay $1.25 to dry a load next door. I’ll be honest and admit that this post isn't about the money as much as it is about the way I was treated.

I’m in Sales & Marketing; I ask every single person I meet how business is multiple times a day. Doesn't matter if you’re a pizza delivery guy or an investment banker, in my opinion it’s all relative. So, as the only patron in the facility, I couldn't help but notice the level invested dollars I was surrounded by and (in the couple of hours I was there) the fact that the only revenue being generated was thanks to my dirty laundry. Curious, I asked... “is it always this slow?” 

I am a very happy Centennial Coin Laundry CUSTOMER!
Taken: October 26th, 2014
(CLICK HERE to read Stephen's DAVID v. GOLIATH Post)
Main Street Retail: David v. Goliath in a Small Town

(C) STEPHEN SPARROW.

“Depends…” was the passing reply. (Matter a fact she was just downright rude.)

“I couldn't help but notice how busy it was next door” I continued.

“Well, those people aren't use to the experience you get here” was her pretentious and very condescending reply.

It was her tone. Those people… Those people… Those people. I was gobsmacked. I couldn’t believe my ears. THOSE PEOPLE!!!

Without missing a beat I responded: “I feel the need to tell you something,” I said. “I am only here this morning because I couldn't get in next door. It was totally packed!”

She shrugged her shoulders and walked away from me. I was her only customer. I was solely responsible for the only revenue generation to pay her wages. Didn’t matter. I gave her the chance to redeem herself yet she didn't. After all, I'd disclosed that I was one of THOSE PEOPLE!

Anyway, when I was greeted by an always busy Rod this morning, I asked him what’s the best time to arrive to do my laundry;  then I told him my story, and that I was going to Blog about it. He in turn produced a post that one of his very successful cottage clients wrote about him this last Labour Day Weekend.

I wonder how Stephen will feel knowing he too is one of THOSE PEOPLE from across the alley?! Hopefully he's as proud as I am to be one. 

Keep up the GREAT work Rod! You've wholeheartedly earned & deserve my business. 

Sir William Earns A Selfie!

September 24th, 2013 was a really great day! 

Not only did I know that I was going to spend an amazing day with one of my very favourite people in the whole wide world; the bigger piece was that by the time I went to bed that night, I'd officially decided to leave my job.  Even though I will always consider it a "dream job", for personal reasons, making that final decision offered me inexplicable relief. (See my Sept 25th, 2013 post A COUPLE A CRAZY DAZE!) 

...Just always believe in yourself. That is all.
TAKEN: JULY 8TH, 2014

Wondering how I’m able to remember the exact date? 

My formula is simple.

If I get the hankering that I’m going to experience a truly memorable moment and/or day, I make a habit of snapping my picture. I know it’s kind of a quirky thing to admit, but in an effort to embrace a greater sense of self, it’s something I began experimenting with when I started sharing this wonky electronic journey.

It may be wonky... but some of those pictures have become my profile picture on Facebook, and some have just simply been entered into my vault of photos that I'll always cherish. How it works?  Whenever I am feeling like a complete and total flaming bag of crap, I look in that specific folder and remind myself that my good days far outweigh my bad. Today's officially been filed in my personal vault as one of those really good days!

What can I say? I had a simple, yet amazing, three hour lunch date. There were no flowers nor soft music, no hugs nor tears, just two friends in a downtown restaurant while it poured rain outside. Just like seeing Kathy & Claire last weekend, it was that effortless. Not only was there some very engaging conversation but it was great to simply see and hear them laugh again. 

You see, our friendship had become strained a little over a year ago when I believed a new friend over him... my old friend. I personally felt having lunch today was necessary for the both of us. So that we could clear the air and piece together the truth of what actually transpired and reconnect. I am pleased to report that our mission was easily accomplished.

Hence... My silly little wonky selfie. Thanks Sir William!

Downtown In My Little Town...

She may be small... But like ME she's mighty!
TAKEN: Saturday May 24th, 2014

As you know, I live in what some would consider to be a sleepy little town. It’s strategically located somewhere between ‘almost there’ and ‘just passing through’.

Don’t get me wrong, my first name isn't Belle, and the ornate objects in my home don’t unexpectedly burst into song, it's just that where I live epitomizes a quaint Canadian town.

Now that you have that mental image, think of your Aunt Bertha and her last really bad gout flare up.

When the surrounding Lakes here open up, our population easily triples. Just like Bert's gout filled big toe, it can be painful to experience!

Though I've lived here almost my entire life, it's been years since I've observed the influx of seasonal residents when it's occurred. Specifically, because I've always tried to avoided it. Now that I'm back to spending 90% of my awake time in my home office, I find myself downtown every chance I get. I'd forgotten how clean, pretty, and very welcoming it really was.

What's my point? There's a social media page out there looking for suggestions on how to make our Town GREAT again. Not gonna lie, I'm finding it painful to watch things unfold. Though there's a solid core group of people with excellent intentions... Others, not so much. I will admit that I read the posts yet never comment.

Eventually, my hope is that I’ll gently remind those standing in judgement, that just like our seasonal weather, there’s an ebb and flow to owning a seasonal business here. Challenges that only those that have tried and endured truly understand. 

It was with them in mind that I popped in and out of stores up and down the main street this past Saturday. As I enjoyed the downtown of my little town, I could hear a very clear voice in my head saying over and over “...come to me with a solution, not a problem!"

Like any great strategist, I had to analyze and assess. I think it was Betty. Yet, I can’t be sure.

As you may or may not know, Betty's always been one of most reasonable of the fifteen voices that party inside my head. Guess I must have her set on 'default'.

Smile away Peeps & Happy Hump Day!