COURAGE FLAG RAISED

 I woke this morning to a calendar alert from my phone simply labelled JS sentencing. Originally set for this day is September, it had be postponed two months until today.

As you know, I don't mention is name here but it is hoped that his sentencing today offers #JusticeForAshley. My beautiful coworker he murdered in January 2023.

I tried to log into the courtroom hearing this morning, only to discover that his sentencing would not be issued virtually. In turn, I have been checking Collingwood Today, every fifteen minutes, in hopes of finally hearing his fate. 

At about 2:45pm, reporter Erika Engel reported the following. Another milestone for Ashley.

This is her article, and photo credit and (c) belong to her. 

Courage flag raised in Collingwood while sentencing begins for local man who murdered wife.

Photo credit and (c) to Erika Engel of Collingwood Today

'The courage of a woman alone is not enough,' says executive director of My Friend's House during flag raising.

As a purple flag emblazoned with the word "Courage" was hoisted up a flag pole in Collingwood to mark Nov. 25 as the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women, friends and family members of a woman who was killed by her husband in Collingwood read out victim impact statements in a Barrie courthouse during the sentencing trial for the convicted killer. 

"The courage of a woman alone is not enough," said Alison FitzGerald, the executive director for My Friend's House, Collingwood's women and children's shelter. "It does take a community to make a difference in the lives of abused women and children." 

Members of Collingwood council helped My Friend's House staff raise the flag in front of the library this afternoon. 

FitzGerald reflected after the flag raising on the sentencing trial happening simultaneously. 

"I think it's pretty significant that James Schwalm is being sentenced today, because it's a story where, on the surface and in the community, he seemed like a good guy and nobody really knew what was happening behind the scenes," said FitzGerald in an interview with Collingwood Today. 

Schwalm has pleaded guilty to murdering his wife, Ashley Schwalm, 40, in their home while their children were asleep overnight between Jan. 25 and 26. As the case been before the courts, details have emerged about their relationship heading toward divorce. 

Schwalm strangled his wife, then dressed her body in hiking gear, drove her in her car to a mountain road and crashed it into a ditch before setting fire to it. He fabricated text messages and security footage to cover up the murder. 

The couple lived in Collingwood at the time. He was a captain on a GTA fire department when he killed his wife. 

His sentencing trial continues this afternoon in Barrie. 

"So many people were shocked to hear about the abuse in that relationship ending in murder," said FitzGerald. 

"One of the important things about women's shelters and why they were created was the fact that when women are considering leaving, they are at the greatest risk of being murdered," said FitzGerald. "I think the case of James Schwalm sort of demonstrates that, and that's why shelters exist today and why it's so important that the community supports us to keep our doors open for years to come." 

My Friend's House fields about 4,000 calls per year from women and children in crisis. The phone is answered day and night, and the shelter's 12-14 beds are always full. 

FitzGerald said she doesn't want that to deter anyone from seeking help, as the My Friend's House team will always make it work if a woman and her children need emergency shelter. 

"We want women to keep calling," she said. 

Over the last three decades, FitzGerald has seen some changes in the Collingwood community when it comes to the work of My Friend's House. 

"I'm seeing an increased understanding of violence against women and the importance of making sure that women are supported and children are supported," said FitzGerald. "People don't walk away from me anymore, they say, 'oh, what great work you are doing.'" 

She said it's always a lot of work to raise the funds needed to operate My Friend's House services each year, and noted there are many charities in Collingwood doing great work and competing for the donations that Collingwood and area residents are giving. 

And though the day's flag raising was well-supported and marked the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women, FitzGerald said the work of My Friend's House goes on, and will for a long time. 

"The rates of violence against women aren't changing, and I have a sense that they're actually worsening," said FitzGerald. "We're starting to hear about youth relationships ending in murder as well. So the issue isn't going away. My Friend's House is not going to go away anytime soon." 

If you'd like to support My Friend's House with a donation this year, you can do so through their website myfriendshouse.ca.

THROW AWAY THE KEY!

Image copyright belongs to @CAN_Femicide
(Canadian Femicide Observatory for Justice & Accountability)

This is the second time I have posted here about femicide hitting close personally, and for the second time, I wish I had named my electronic journal... 

"I Am NEVER Gonna Laugh About It!!"

In this second instance, I have been writing about Ashley here for the last year and a half. Readers and friends know just how much I have struggled with the shocking and brutal murder of my former coworker. 

Well, on June 21st, 2024, her accused plead guilty and will be sentenced (after victim impact statements are heard) September 24th, 2024.  

Since the moment the murderer entered a guilty plea, I have read and listened to every possible account of what unfurled in the courtroom the day he admitted to his violent crime. The article I am sharing below, is by far, what I feel provides the most detail and insight into the final day of her life. 

My biggest fear, is that by waiving his right to a pre-trail, and taking the plea bargain to a lesser charge, he will be out sooner than later. That said, that shit scumbag doesn't deserve any space in my mind that is easily devoted to her.

Because, let's face it, if there is one thing my beloved friend truly deserves, it is to rest in peace and forever sleep easy.

On a very personal note. I will always pray for her young children, as they are sadly living victims, that will never forget the very last night of their deceased mother's life.

___________________________________________________________

Firefighter admits to murdering wife in Collingwood home then staging elaborate, clumsy coverup outside one of Ontario's wealthiest private ski clubs.

Written by: Betsy Powell

Courts Reporter - Toronto Star

Betsy is a reporter with the crime, courts and justice team at the Star

 BARRIE A Brampton firefighter who masterminded his wife’s murder and attempted to conceal it by staging a fiery car crash in Ontario’s ski country left behind a trail of evidence for police to unravel.

Soon after he strangled Ashley Schwalm, 40, to death early last year in their Collingwood home — which they shared with their two young children — James Schwalm sent a series of texts to himself from her phone.

It was an attempt to convince police that she was still alive. In one, he asked her to fill up gas cans for a snowblower.

But she was already dead.

On Thursday, Schwalm, 40, pleaded not guilty to first-degree murder but guilty to second-degree murder, admitting in a Barrie courtroom that he killed his wife in their two-storey, three-bedroom home, dressed her in hiking clothes, put her lifeless body in the passenger seat of her Mitsubishi Outlander and drove to Alpine Ski Club on Arrowhead Road.

Schwalm had borrowed his mother’s car and “pre-positioned it” at the Craigleith Ski Club North Lodge parking lot to use as a getaway vehicle after staging the crash nearby.

Sometime before 6 a.m. on Jan. 26, 2023, he set the car on fire, then went home to enact his alibi.

“Ok I’m going to zip out I think the kids will be fine their sleeping,” he wrote in one text to himself from Ashley’s phone.

“Eww I left the gas cans in my car and it smells,” he wrote in another, again pretending to be her.

And later: “Oh, I have vertigo. I’m going to rush home.”

Soon, he walked their two young children to school, telling them their mother was out on a hike.

In the days leading up to her death, Schwalm Googled “alomony” — misspelling “alimony” — and the questions, “can you see iophone history after deleted,” and “does a road flare completely burn,” and “throw road flare into fire.” He also asked a doctor at a social gathering if it was possible to kill someone by snapping their neck, suggesting he was trying to settle a debate with co-workers about the reality of Steven Segal movies.

Police soon found other clues.

There was a $1 million life insurance policy naming James Schwalm as the sole beneficiary in the event of his wife’s death, along with a $250,000 policy with the couple’s children as beneficiaries. Investigators also learned the couple’s 10-year marriage was also the rocks.

On Thursday, the excruciating details of Ashley Schwalm’s murder were revealed for the first time in an agreed statement of facts.

James Schwalm poured gasoline throughout the interior and then drove the vehicle off the edge of the embankment and then, after opening the driver’s side window, lit the vehicle on fire using a lighter bearing his own initials, Crown Attorney Lynne Saunders said reading from the agreed facts in a courtroom filled with the couple’s family and friends.

Two days after the killing, Schwalm gave police a statement and handed over footage from his home’s surveillance system. That footage, he claimed, showed him leaving the home to walk his dog through the neighbourhood the morning Ashley died — he even gave police a map of the route.

When police checked his neighbours’ surveillance cameras, they found nothing to match his story; Schwalm’s footage had been “deliberately manufactured.”

Wearing a grey suit and white button-down shirt, and no tie, Schwalm appeared solemn but composed in the prisoner’s box as he answered Justice Michelle Fuerst’s questions on if he felt any coercion to plead, with his lawyer, Joelle Klein, standing nearby.

Despite pleading to a lesser charge, Schwalm still faces an automatic life sentence with Fuerst set to decide when he will first be eligible to apply for parole, from 10 to 25 years. The sentencing hearing is Sept. 26. (Schwalm will have no guarantee of parole upon his first eligibility date, nor ever.)

Schwalm was a captain with the Brampton Fire and Emergency Services until he was charged with first-degree murder.

The prosecutor gave a detailed account of the couple’s troubled marriage, which started 10 years earlier in a lavish wedding ceremony beside the ski slopes at Craigleith Ski Club, one of several private clubs in the Town of the Blue Mountains, near Collingwood on the shores of southern Georgian Bay.

In early 2022, Ashley was involved in an extra-marital affair with her then-boss. The Schwalms decided they wanted to work to repair the relationship and sought counselling. But by Christmas that year, fissures appeared, the prosecutor said. James told his mother he wasn’t sure they could make it work and Ashley informed her family she was thinking of ending the relationship, sending her sister a message quoting the lyric “all out of love,” by the band Air Supply.

James was also “nurturing” a relationship with the ex-wife of the man with whom Ashley had the affair, and days before killing her, told the woman he’d developed feelings, which she reciprocated. On Jan. 21, 2023, Schwalm told the other woman he was resolved “to do what would make him happy regardless of Ashley still wanting to make their marriage work,” the Crown attorney said.

Sometime the night of Jan. 25, their son heard his parents arguing and when he opened his bedroom door, he saw his mother and father in the upstairs hallway. Ashley asked her son to get her cellphone for her so that she could call police. He retrieved it and gave it to his mom, but then his dad told him to return to bed, Saunders said.

“Sometime later, he opened his bedroom door and saw James Schwalm crying in the area of the mudroom which connects the house to the garage,” and heard his father ask the house’s virtual assistant, “What time is it, Alexa?” to the reply, 3 a.m. Also that day, their daughter told a teacher that she had a bad night because her parents fought and she heard her mother fall down the stairs, Saunders said.

Surveillance video captured some of Schwalm’s movements that cold, dark morning, including footage showing a figure carrying a large backpack running from the area of the crash towards the Craigleith ski lodge parking lot where he had parked his mother’s car.

Just after 6 a.m. on Jan. 26, fire crews responded to a 911 call and extinguished a blaze. They found a badly burned body in the front passenger side of the vehicle.

After determining the deceased was Ashley, police interviewed Schwalm who shared bogus text messages and video clips in an attempt to deflect suspicion away from him. He said Ashley had left home early that morning to go hiking up at the ski hill — a departure from her usual hiking routine.

But it didn’t work, and Ontario Provincial Police investigators from the Collingwood detachment started digging.

On Feb. 3, 2023, they announced Schwalm had been charged with second-degree murder and indignity to a dead body. The charges were later upgraded to first-degree murder.

A post-mortem examination determined Ashley’s cause of death was neck compression not related to the crash, and that she was dead before the fire.

D IS FOR DISCOMBOBULATED

Well, it is day four of the challenge and I am already behind the eight ball. A tad discombobulated if you catch my drift. It’s not that I have writers block, as that usually happens around the letter O.  

With this being my eleventh attempt at this marathon, the same thing happens every year. I think I am far more organized than I really am, then in preparation to jump on a jet plane for my birthday trip, work trumps A-Z every time.

That said, what a difference a year makes. Aside from sucking the hind tit on the challenge, my work life balance is amazing. I love my job and am looking forward to the adventures I have planned for 2024.

The honest truth is that some days I just have more drive than others. There have been several times in the last decade where I have been a tad overwhelmed and wondered if this was the end of the challenging writing road for me. 

If you’re stopping by for the first time, I am pleased to report that today isn’t that day!

As far as the word I selected for the letter D. Due to what I have on my plate, I may be emotionally confused or uncertain that I will stay on track for the challenge....

But say my word of the day three times fast. How fun was that ???

F IS FOR FACING FEAR

 From the April A-Z Blogging archives. 

This was originally posted April 7th, 2016.

For anyone that been reading here for any length of time, you're very aware that 2016 is intended to be about the experience for me. 

So naturally, when we decided to rent a house in Mexico, I immediately knew that I wanted to go way the hell out of my comfort zone and once again looked to my bucket list. This trip, I had set my sights on trying to learn to surf.

Just waiting for the right wave.
TAKEN: APRIL 7th, 2016

Well, I am pleased to report that I've been rockin' a boogie board all week and tomorrow's the day that I officially get on a surf board; yet I'm not sure how it will go.

My eldest boy surfed yesterday and he was amazed just how hard it was. 

After bout an hour, he walked up the beach with what seemed like his knuckles dragging behind him, because he's worked his arms so much. 

Truth? I really don't care if I am unsuccessful catching a great wave. 

For me, it's about setting my sights on something and seeing it through. The fact that I've spent three days in the ocean preparing for this milestone tells me that I have faced my biggest fear of all.

My fear of the unknown.

Wish me luck!

A SNACK BRACKET

My very favourite client was in the office last week and he said to me… “Rhondi, just like you, I’ve had Covid-19.”

We burst out laughing after he continued with, “At the end of all of this, I’m not sure if it will end up being nineteen pounds, or nineteen kilograms!” 

I don’t know about you, but as an emotional eater, I can generally peg the time of year when circus music begins to chime in my ear signaling me to buy stock in the most profitable potato chip company. And I can assure you, every fall, any and all are generously sampled; as part of my annual stock purchase evaluation.

What can I say. I was a fat toddler. I was power fed homogenized milk, and in those days the perception was the fatter the better. The good news is I shed that baby fat, the bad news is those formed fat cells follow you forever.

I have always been athletic and outgoing but when perimenopause clicked in everything changed. My body absorbed food differently and in one year my metabolism changed exponentially. It was in that moment I knew I was being put to pasture.

Kicking and screaming and the better part of a year later, I lost the excess weight and changed my lifestyle. That was in 2012.

Even with a major change in lifestyle, winters and my seasonal affective disorder in this harsh tundra have me pulling my gravy crutch out of the hall closet bringing the five or ten pound of weight gain that accompany it. The good news is those extra pounds were always shed before I ever had to appear in any sort of summer shorts or swimming outfit. 

This year? We locked down. I filled up. The rest is history!

I want to shed the pounds I’ve gained yet I am a creature of habit. 

If gravy has a crutch, my philosophy that if I share with the pups I am really only taking in 1/3 of the calories must be a motorized wheelchair. One chip for each of you, one chip for me. One jelly bean for each of you, one jelly bean for me; and trust me, I am always fair in the distribution department.

I guess you could say that the only way the dogs keep the upper paw on me is because they don't have to share their dog cookies with me. Though I must say, on occasion the label on the front of the box has made it cross my mind.

Not gonna lie.... Those gravy covered Milk Bone dog biscuits definitely land within my mid-winter snack bracket!!

#yagottalaughaboutit

It would appear that Annie and I have similar snackage struggles
TAKEN: AUGUST 7th, 2020

HAPPY TO HELP

A minute and a half away from celebrating my 5th anniversary with my current team, Tuesday was an extra special day for me at work.

A client walked into the office and handed me this lovely gift with a heartfelt personal note to say thank you. Though we socially distanced, she offered an ear to ear smile when I told her I would hug her if we weren't in the midst of a global pandemic.

Thanks Alberta!
TAKEN: JULY 7th, 2020

She's such a lovely lady. One that knows when she calls at the last minute and asks for help, I offer it unconditionally. Not because I want to sell her something, but because I pride myself on providing great customer service; one of the most important and successful career hats I have worn for close to 20 years.

When I changed careers in 2004 and went into business for myself, it was serious grassroots market research that defined my path to the here and now. Having never really been in sales prior, I discovered very quickly that with my keen ability for analysis that sales and marketing was definitely that sexy little black dress that absolutely fit me perfectly.

Shortly thereafter, my dad fell ill and he lived his last six months in hospice care in our home. While managing that, every single free moment of every single day was spent on the phone in my home office. 

You see, in the midst of his end of life care, I was trying to build something special. That something special, had been clearly identified by the large amount of data I had collected and analysed. 

That said, I would be lying if I said I did it alone. There were two great friends coaching me on how to get a seat at the 'big peoples table'. One still remains one of my closest friends and has an MBA in marketing, the other was a friend with a degree in journalism; with a brilliant mind, and marketing background. 

I could always count on the latter to be brutally honest with me. He ghost wrote for my clients for those first few years.  His name was Greg; he has since passed.

I remember how hard I worked that first year. When things really started to blossom, with a keen respect for his knowledge I  asked Greg to review my 3 year business plan. 

All these years later, I will never forget the moment he looked me in the eye and told me that I was onto something.  Three months after that, he and I celebrated after my very first full page ad appeared on page A5 of the Toronto Star. The  value of the upload of that one ad in 2005: $60,000. 

Print led to great success with radio, then in 2007 I produced my first series of television commercials. I still watch them every once in a while to prove to myself what I'd actually accomplished. It was a life changing.

Not gonna lie, it is always nice to daydream of those years gone by, yet when a simple gift bag arrives for the little extra effort that was supplied, makes one realize they're on the right track.

Proving, one should never bet against karma .

MY PERFECT GLOW

I don’t know about you, but there's a handful of things that instantly remind me of early childhood happiness. Those few things are so vivid, that in a nanosecond I feel four or five years old again. This time of year, it’s the beautiful nighttime glow of multicoloured Christmas tree lights that warm my heart.

All these years later, I recall the longest trimming ritual (aside from placing the single strands of silver tinsel) was putting the heavy tin reflectors on the large string of bulbs. Boy, those large painted bulbs got hot so quickly, that getting to enjoy their illuminated beauty in the evening was always a treat. Simply because they were never allowed to stay on very long. All reminiscent memories but the awe of those beautiful lights remain ingrained in my spirit; all these decades later.

From the time we bought our first home, an artificial tree was traditionally assembled & disassembled using specific calendar days as a guide. Then, when my dad passed in 2005, I didn’t have the energy nor the desire to bother, so a real tree was purchased less than a week before Christmas was set to arrive. I’ve purchased a real tree ever since.

ONLY multicoloured
lights for this cat.
TAKEN: DECEMBER 24th, 2018

This year, I hit the jackpot at my grocery store tree lot. I paid my forty five bucks and brought this absolute beauty home. 

As I began to string the lights from the inside out, I had to make an additional trip to Canadian Tire for more lights. In total, I managed to load my tree with close to 600 of one of my favourite things.

Running on a timer at dusk, from the time I turned that last corner on my street before landing at the house, I could see the glow of my lights in the living room window. 

Then, each night until the Christmas break, I would finish the dinner chores and settle into watch my evening episode of Jeopardy. I would find my channel, stretch out & admire my beautiful tree.

Then, every night, something always made me stop and reflect.

It wasn't because the kids are grown and gone, doing there own thing, there wouldn't be much under it. It was that my Dad wasn’t sitting on the couch next to me...

Enjoying my beautifully lit tree.

NOT A TYPICAL MAYDAY

Can you believe it’s the end of May and I haven’t written here in almost a month? I can. It was a long winter and I’ve taken the past month off to try and recover & regroup.

Though I am pleased to report that I did officially complete the April A-Z challenge, posts were regularly late and they definitely crawled up to what I would have to label as 'lackluster'. For the first time since I started this electronic journal, I posted because I had to, not because I wanted to. Suffice is to say, my run in the A-Z department is over; six years was definitely long enough.

For reasons I don’t need to really share, I’ve had a pretty big emotional set back. I can only try to put it into perspective by sharing how things went for me when I was raising three teenagers. I would always try to calmly reinforce a fair & proper approach, but lines continually kept being crossed. I always tried to help them learn how to navigate life, yet I could only be taken advantage of for so long until I’d ultimately snap. Well, I’ve snapped alright, and this time (though it has nothing to do with my children) I don’t think very specific things in my life will ever be the same.

To complicate my discombobulated mindset, it saddens me further to admit that I won’t be spending much time at the cottage this summer. There are a lot of compounding reasons why, but first and foremost my beloved dog Dot is coming to the end of her life.

She struggles to walk and can no longer do the steps nor the hill. Yet, she is such a stoic pup within the pack that I know if I take her out there it will end up killing her. So, I am going to keep her here comfortable at the house, and enjoy my time with her staying very close to home. 

Enjoying Williams Park right before we discovered her hips were a very complicated issue.
(Photo Credit: STACCS)
TAKEN: JUNE 2015

Isn’t it funny how pets make us reflect on our own mortality and overall happiness? It was never my intent to have a brood a pups so large that they accounted for 20% of my weekly grocery bill, but just like when the kids were growing up, I struggle to deny them anything. Truth of the matter is, my daughter comments that they eat better than I do! 

People are always asking for comment on how I juggle and manage three (above average size) dogs... and I tell them with patience, love, and a lot of really hard work.

But, if there’s one thing I’m not afraid of, it’s hard work. It is how I have approached life and the only way I know how to exist; which is to greet each new day, try my very best, and be loyal to those who deserve it.

…No one knows that better than my beautiful spottie dog Dot.

L IS FOR LIFE

This meme about LIFE speaks to me personally... about a couple of very specific people.
My personal motto?
'Kill them with success & bury them with a smile!'

K IS FOR KEEPSAKE

This past February, I hopped a plane and went to Nassau, in the Bahamas, for four nights. I had purchased the trip Black Friday for close to a two for one rate and because I'd never been, I was excited about getting another new to me stamp in my passport.

I'd booked an oceanfront room on Cable Beach that was absolutely breath-taking, yet like most resort/island destination it's known for panhandling, which drives me absolutely bonkers. To that point, my second full day there, I spent the entire day on the beach and not far from me was what (in all my travels) I'd deem the very worst beach side booth full of crap imaginable.

That said, after watching this poor man for hours, I realized absolutely no one had bought a single thing. I knew I wasn't going to spend any of my hard earned loonies on his treasures but being the nice person I am, I went into the resort and returned with some lunch and two bottles of water for him. He was visibly moved by my gesture. So much so, that as I packed up my beach chair for the day, he approached me holding something.

Keeping in mind that because I was staying at an all inclusive resort, providing him with a meal cost me absolutely nothing, so I was a little shocked that he wanted to offer me some sort of payment. In the end I greatfully accepted his keepsake, packed it into my suitcase and gave it a home on Orillia Lake when I returned to Canada.

From now on, every time I look at it, I will think of this elderly entrepreneur and the hug he gave me for simply being what most Canadians are: kind.

Thanks for the memories and this very unique KEEPSAKE Bahamas!
TAKEN: FEBRUARY & MARCH 2018

WATER WAS DEFINITELY CHILLED

When I rose at 5am this morning, I immediately thought of my very good friend Sean. His standard joke for times when there was an extreme cold warning in effect was: ‘It was so cold outside this morning, that I saw a lawyer walking down the street with his hands in his own pockets.’ The reason that little ditty makes me smile’s because he was a lawyer. Taken too soon, I truly miss him. May he forever rest in peace.

My point being, when I woke up this morning it was -44C outside with the windchill, so I ended up staying home. Not because I couldn’t have gone to work, rather because our home was built in the late 1980’s, we have water intake pipes that run along an outside wall inside the garage. 

Again, nothing life altering, except the last time I heated the garage for the weekend during a deep freeze, the three day hydro bill was 600 bucks. Suffice is to say, I don’t take home 600 beans a day and this sucker's here 'til at least Sunday; so I was unanimously elected to keep the ice water running for the day.

It’s been a brutal week. After my December infusion of vitamin D, I usually manage to hit the ground running in the new year. You know, when most of the gloom is gone and the snow is bright white. But because the weather's been so cold, the only exercise I have managed to get is shoveling the driveway twice. (Noting that exercise, combined with my light therapy, is key to me keeping my seasonal affective disorder in check.)

Oh, my stupid SAD. Now that I'm aware, it makes me so very conscious of my overall ability to be a big hairy bitch this time of year. I have to be so regimented about my routine it feels like I should have been cast in the movie Groundhog Day.

At this point, I am just constantly grinding my teeth for the first of February to arrive, then, it will be full steam ahead to spring. I don’t expect you to understand if you don’t suffer but it is absolutely maddening that I feel that I can't wake up. I am serious when I admit that I just want to hibernate and it has nothing to do with being depressed.

I read somewhere that people don’t notice if it’s winter or summer if they are happy. 

I call bullshit. I’m very happy, yet I have enough common sense to know that when the hair in my nose freezes instantly it’s winter, and when my brain freezes fast it’s definitely summer; and said freeze is usually caused by a gigantic serving of tiger tail ice cream.

Ah, now I’m craving junk food. I can’t win! At least my snow shoveling photo ROCKS!!

Glass half full... right?!

Who other than me likes to shovel snow? I know, I suck!
TAKEN: JANUARY 3rd, 2018

A CLEAR 361 SLEEPS AGO

Plain ole me on the balcony with one kick-ass suntan!
TAKEN: December 2nd, 2016

In the midst of packing my suitcase this morning, I stopped, sat down at my desk and decided to quickly scroll through the hundreds of pictures I took this time last year when I was vacationing on the Mayan Riviera. 

Three hundred and sixty one sleeps later, I still have so many mixed feelings about that trip and the life changing shit show I returned to, that I swear I was on the verge of a panic attack at the simple thought of packing!

I’ve never vacationed in the same place twice before. It’s been both a conscious & very personal decision, as I ultimately continue to search for as many different stamps in my passport before my 57th birthday. 

That said, I had to set that theory aside when I booked this puppy this September past, as I knew I needed a do over on this one. In a nutshell, I am in need closure, that in turn will hopefully bring celebration for the personal growth I have experienced in the last almost year.

On one hand, I have so much to be grateful for. Yet, I find I harbour some very innate fears about certain aspects of my day to day life which ultimately cause me more stress than it should. Growing up I remember my mother always telling me 'to never to hate anything' because it took too much energy away from all the good around you. This year has proved that to me tenfold; for which I truly appreciate.

As my girlfriend and I text back and forth today about wardrobe, weight gain & bathing suit choices, I was pleased to see via Facebook that the British friends met last year were boarded on their plane as it fueled on the London tarmac. That right there made me excited to continue packing.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. You can't stop change only manage it. So what are my hopes for the extra pounds I am carrying to Mexico this year?

Over the last couple of days I cut & coloured my hair, waxed all the bits of me that needed waxing,  then this morning I applied a top coat of sparkle nail polish to my freshly manicured toes; all in hopes of providing a much need trifecta affect of distraction against the weight gain.

Do you think there may be a bit of delusion woven into my approach to create illusion?

Me three... But it helped clear my thoughts so I could finish packing.

#yagottalaughaboutit

STACCS & LUKE FOREVER

I don't know about you, but I enjoyed an amazing civil long weekend. I was honoured to watch Jukebox stand witness as two of his closest friends got married, then spent the rest of my break with great friends at our cottage.

Slowly but surely, I hit the grind completely exhausted first thing last Tuesday morn and (as an almost added bonus) I managed to blog that evening and purge my more serious thoughts; which is always an accomplishment when life is as crazy busy as it was last week.

Then, Wednesday evening my daughter stopped by the house higher than a kite. Not from drugs or any sort of substance, simply jacked from the sheer excitement and euphoria of what the next run of days was going to bring; the Boots & Hearts Festival about an hour south of us.

A) It's officially ON. B) Great hat. C) Rockin' to her favourite Keith Urban song .D) Flip Cup between sets.
TAKEN: AUGUST 10th - 13th, 2017

We knew she'd saved enough money to go and there was going to be about 10 of them camping together. They had planned all their meals and shopped as a group to save money. They seemed (from my vantage point) to have a well thought out plan for the festival as large as this one. Good, solid plan, yes. But I still couldn’t help but worry. With over 120,000 in attendance, how could I not worry? In the end, there was no need to.

As her kick-ass adventure progressed, true to her word, photos and videos began to arrive keeping us updated throughout the excitement.  She called me in the early afternoon Sunday because her phone had died in the night and there was just too much to tell me via text.

She told me that next year she thought we should join in. Then she continued to tell me that for a stint on Saturday she got separated from her crew and ended up hanging out and enjoying the music with another lady whose children were there with friends. "She was really old," she said. "Like 45... but she was cool and we had a blast!!" 

Look at that smile... Home today, she's experienced four glorious nights that would end with her drinking a twisted tea as her fave Luke Bryan closed the festival, whilst singing specifically to her in a crowd of tens of thousands of people.

Yup, you read that right. Just as she envisioned, he sang specifically to her. Just as I am truly only 29 years of age... NOT like the really old 45 year old she hung out with last Saturday.

Ah, the life inside my very active imagination, is absolutely amazing!!

#yagottalaughaboutit

A SIGN OF THE TIMES

While in the midst of undertaking my weekly chores this morning, my cell phone began buzzing on my nightstand. I instantly ripped off my very fashionable bright yellow Rubbermaid gloves, abandoning the undeniable enjoyment of cleaning the shower stall in the ensuite. 

With stealth like grace I effortlessly bolted over the bed with an outstretched arm narrowly getting to my phone on the very last ring. What the hell... I lied. I slowly walked around the bed kinda pissed that I'd been interrupted. 

Glass half full? It was Jukebox. 

He's been furniture shopping for an armchair on weekends for some time now. So I told him if/when he found something he wanted to purchase, to simply call to get it moved. Well today was the day, and that was my call. So, I summoned his dad to meet up with him to help him get this poop in a group. A couple of hours later they arrived at the house. 

They had unconventionally accomplished what they'd set out to do and my son was very happy with his purchase. He went on to tell me of a sign he had seen in the second hand store and considered purchasing it for me. I was ecstatic. As a mom, it never gets old when your kids unexpectedly think of you and what you love.

Short story long... at the end of the day I sensed he worried that I would find his sentiment 'cheesy' and with the insignificant price price tag of  50 cents, it wasn’t worth his effort. He immediately knew by my reaction that it wasn't about the material item nor value, more how appreciative I was about his genuine thoughtfulness and consideration of me. 

In turn, he went back to the store and returned with this amazing sign. 

Thanks, Jukebox. I will always love you, and my new sign.

As I have always reminded. Embrace the little things. In the end, they are HUGE!

Poppa would be proud...
The 'dog hairs' reference leads me to believe the homemade sign entrepreneur was from Quebec!
TAKEN: MAY 13th, 2017 

H IS FOR HOSPITALITY

My BMF Darin & his amazing neighbour.
TAKEN: APRIL 9th, 2017

As you know, I am the first one to put my hand and volunteer for great friends, food and music. That said, when I decided to skip seeing the Toronto Raptors play at Madison Square Garden and accepted Darins' invitation to land in New Orleans for my birthday, I was a little torn (after the fact) that I'd chosen the latter.

Well, as I venture back to the great white north, I am kicking myself in the ass for having that nano-second of a lapse in judgement and doubt. 

My 20th+ 29th birthday celebration in the Big Easy was my very best yet. A close second would be the party I had in Public School where I invited everyone without telling my mom; but that's another post.

From the moment I arrived, until the moment I left, I had non-stop fun. I was fortunate to get to spend some amazing one on one time with my very good friend; and fortunate enough to be accepted and embraced by his phenomenal group of friends and neighbours.

My heart is bursting as I have never experienced such hospitality in my entire life! 

STUPID MENTAL-PAUSE

So it begins. The complete and total bullshit that goes along with getting older. To hell will growing old gracefully, lately I've been pummeled into submission by flurry of medical jargon, all looping back to simple fact that I am a quinquagenarian. I'm seriously pissed off, though really just mad at myself.

In 2011 I made some very significant life changes and lost close to 50 lbs. When I share that with people they seem surprised but the truth of the matter is that I disguised it quite well with how I dressed. During that journey, I promised myself I would never let it happen again. Until this past December, when I was blind-sided by an emotional setback and a quick spike of weight gain returned. Not because I was ill, simply because I was self medicating myself through a very trying time: with food.

I LOVE MAXINE!
(C) Hallmark Licensing Inc.

If that surprises you, I will admit that I engage in regular conversation with a good friend about the power of food and the damage it can do. I haven't always struggled, it's just that my relationship with food changed drastically after my dad died in June 2005.

Shortly after his passing the tipping of the scale (so to speak) was slower at first. The settling of the estate took longer than expected which was not only stressful but extremely painful personally.

Little by little my portion sizes got larger and the muscle mass and cardiovascular condition I had worked my entire life to build up, slowly deteriorated.

In hindsight, I recall during this painful time, I hid how much I ate and internalized everything. Thanks to some good therapy, I learned to rationalize and understand what was happening personally and counter balance the triggers. Apparently this last slip has come with some severe consequences; all which are intertwined to my long term health and wellness.

You see, when a close friend was diagnosed with colorectal cancer, I figured it was time to get the skinny (no pun intended) on where I was at with my overall health. Going in, I had some severe underlying concerns but my main fear was being diagnosed with diabetes. Turns out I am A-OK in that department but have a plethora of other issues directly related to my weight gain. So, I have to lose 20 lbs in 3 months.

I lost the 50lbs I was mentioning with the time lapse being close to a year. Not bad as the gain happened over four years but in this challenge, I won't have that luxury. Apparently I have to become as close to a vegan as humanly possible. For a person that loves beef and pork and every single fixin' they get plated with, I think it will be a definite challenge.

With no one to blame but myself, I am not going to allow anyone to enable me into thinking I have food options outside the wellness doctor I have been assigned. Besides, you know what I always say.....

Life is hard right up until the moment it isn't!

OUTDOOR RHONDI REFLECTION

Beauty day at the cottage!
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 20th, 2017

Like the majority of Canadians, last weekend I celebrated the Family Day long weekend. Though I spoke with each of my children more than once electronically, it was my fur babies that received the bulk of my attention, as the 4 of us spent most the weekend outside. 

To compliment that, as I do quite often when I have some time to myself, over early morning coffee last weekend I reflected on what I had going on this time last year; the year before that and so on. 

If you don’t relate to the concept of keeping an electronic journal you may find my next point a tad odd to fathom. But I love the fact that I have a accumulated a snapshot in time of what I've had happening in the last few years of my life. A wee titch creepier is that I remember my general mindset with regards to 99.9% of the things I have written about, as well as whom/what I've addressed. Not because my OCD trumps my limited writing skills but simply because most of my posts have an extremely personal element attached.

Some appear as simple quirky stories, yet most have an underlying theme that either masks the pain I was feeling when solidifying my thoughts, or that typing out and posting my thoughts helped me release the stress associated with a specific situation; ultimately allowing me to let the angst go.

Believe it or not, the funniest ones, were the most emotional to write. As I sit back and look at where I'm at personally, today, at this point in time, I am shocked how I have evolved since I posted my first offering on November 20th, 2011.
(CLICK TO READ: Here We Go!)  

The first few years were essential to me finding out where I fit. Not in a 'square hole/round peg' type of scenario, rather a 'what was I meant to do when I grow up' sort of crossroad. All these years later, though I may have grown exponentially as a person, I still have questions... and some of them are absolutely ridiculous. 

At the end of the day, I guess I am sharing that I have finally come to terms with the fact that I march to the beat of a different drummer. Though I will admit I have discovered that no matter how hard I try to change things about my persona and I am unable, that drummer and I will always strive to understand why.

As I pack up the pups and head for a sleepover at the cottage my mind will wander with all the different dummers that have inspired me. Let's see: Phil Collins, Don Henley, Neil Peart and most definitely Levon Helm. Oh ya, mustn't forget that one armed dummer Rick Allen from Def Lepard.  His is the voice in my head that confirms I will never let others judge me for my choices.

Because, ultimately, they are MINE!

HOLY MAYAN HOT FLASH BATMAN!

Like most of the vacations I plan, I research them based on personal referrals from friends and family. I select a destination, then ask the masses for feedback. I realize everyone spends their vacation time in different ways, yet if you’ve had a blast, I generally want to start with your personal input. 

Anyway, my point is that personally chasing as many different stamps in my passport before I hit the ripe old age of 57, is beginning to present challenges. Though I hop a plane only twice a year, I have begun to realize that I am a lot of years shy and running out of direct flight/same time zone/kick ass options. Sad, because I live in the Canadian snow-belt, suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder, and LOTS of sunshine is  #1 on my 'must have' list.  

Future travel concerns aside, for all that are wondering, Riviera Maya did not disappoint. A little over a three hour flight from Toronto to Cancun I immediately hit the ground running. Like always, I knew that I wanted to golf when I was there and among other things I wanted to visit the Mayan ruins in Tulum. Not because I'm a history buff but because I wanted to experience their journey for myself; and I honestly don't think I will ever return.

Nothing like an hour and a half stroll in 31C+ weather.
 Incredible experience just the same.
TAKEN: DECEMBER 8th, 2016 

Though I know my returning won't impact their overall tourism statistics, I will endorse that my last four passport stamps have been awarded in Mexico. For a gal that had reservations about ever going to the country in the first place, I am completely and unequivocally hooked. 

For the record, my primary worry was never violence, more the condition of their drinking water. So, for those of you that don't know, their laws (especially in tourist based areas) have become significantly more stringent. As a result, I have always been able to brush my teeth using the tap water on all of my excellent adventures.

As I head home tomorrow, I've so many things to be grateful for. 

Undeniably grateful that I got to hug a cousin (for the first time in more than a decade) and we weren't at a funeral. My wonderful children that took care of my pups so that I could once again travel n' discover, but first and foremost to my very memorable strapless bra....That absorbed more excreted sweat than any peri-menopausal  hot flash could produce whilst walking the ruins at Tulum. 

Trust me when I report that there's a boatload of really good water in Mexico.

I rung out the best of it from my tank top at the resort.. Just to make my point!

FECK OFF FISHER-FOE

If I didn't see it, I woudn't have believed it.
TAKEN: DECEMBER 1st, 2016

This afternoon I was sitting in my super sexy beach chair when this dude stumbles out from who the hell knows where. As I watched this supposed ‘professional angler wanna be’ wander to the water, I almost had to look for Aston Kutcher and his film crew from his now defunct show PUNK’d.

...No such luck.

I guess I should clarify that the resort where I am staying boasts being a preserved wildlife area. Birds walk along the pool decks truly uninhibited, iguanas roam the lawns, and the fish are like pets. They are so conditioned to being around people that the fish actually jump out of the water to catch a snippet of food you may be tossing to them; just like a pup with a Frisbee.

As I watched this idiot approach the beach I couldn't help but worry. Not only was the snorkelling area full of swimmers that may take a hook but any fish would surely/enthusiastically grab at his line.

All I could do was watch in disbelief. As I rose from my chair to stop him, a lovely British lady stepped up equally pissed off. As I approached the water I could see her finger wagging which intern had this fisher-foe moving along.

She and I stood and chatted for quite sometime. By the end of our chat, we seemed to both come up with a universal label for this angler chap with absolutely NO common sense.

GOOF! YUP... This Fisher-foe was nothing but a fat hairy goof!

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.