E IS FOR EXCHANGE

Editorial cartoon from the Toronto Star that is even more applicable in today's economy.
JANUARY 24th, 2016

 

After our roadtrip/beach house adventure to the Outer Banks with the pups last fall, I started grabbing US$'s from the Royal Bank ATM whenever I thought of it. 

You know, twenty bucks this week, forty bucks the next. Not because I want to be carrying a lot of cash around when travelling, but on our last trip I noticed the steep premium I was paying to use my credit card out of country. It was an eye opener that pushed the limits to the budget we had set because we used the card for everything.

So, when I selected Las Vegas as my next passport stamp, I knew cash would probably be the way to go, hence the Andrew Jackson currency hording that's been happening.

Then, when packing the weekend before takeoff, I said to my husband 'maybe we should save the cash, and use the card' (as we have an anniversary trip booked in June where American cash will be King). 

To explain my methodology, not using the card is kind of a double edge sword for us. We pay our credit card off every two weeks and use it for absolutely everything, including household bills. In turn, with the mountain of points we earn, we redeem them every quarter and it's like found money we apply to our balance.

Anyway, that thought quickly passed when he returned with our next couple of twenties for our piggy bank stash and I discovered we'd paid $1.40930 Canadian for a single American dollar. 

At $1.40930 for a buck, I only have one last comment. Thank goodness for the secure hotel safe. 

In their wee safe space, those twenty dollar bills will blanket our passports better than us fattening the already fat fee fellas at credit card company hands down!

V IS FOR VINYL

From the April A-Z Blogging archives.
This was originally posted April 26th, 2016

I know I've written here before that I remember the first time I fell in love with the music of The Eagles. 

It was 1976 and if I close my eyes I can see my oldest brother setting the needle down on his new turntable to hear Hotel California for the very first time. If I focus on that moment, we were in his room. I can see his bright yellow t-shirt and he simply dropped the needle. The rest is history.

I think I have been very fortunate to have had a mother that embraced vinyl, as well as to have lived within a generation where some of the best music of all time was produced. 

My mother was extremely proud of her collection of 78's and 33 1/3 albums. Yours, truly?  At best, I was always glued to a sparse 45rpm budget. One at a time with big breaks in between purchases. 

As I got older, my money went toward the purchase of a Walkman and the trusty cassette tape, then its CD compatible counterpart, eventually graduating to downloading. 

Yes, I also have a satellite radio subscription and a kick ass pair of computer speakers should I like to watch and listen on YouTube BUT...

The honest truth is that vinyl owned my childhood and my will always have my heart.

We've just acquired more than 600 vintage vinyl records. It's going to be a GREAT summer!
TAKEN: MARCH 26TH, 2016

W IS FOR WONDER

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

RHONDI's RENOVATING!

Growing up, my boys always shared a bedroom. Then, once we moved into our new home, that extra room was offered to my eldest son; finally granting him a bedroom of his own. He was in his teens.

A creative soul since birth, Jukebox immediately decided he wanted to redecorate, and asked to paint his new space a very vibrant orange. Striving to prove that I wasn't a total control freak, I simply internalized my immediate anxiety, and agreed to his unconventional colour choice.

All these years later, though other rooms have received new flooring & updated colours, what's now my home office remains that popular fall colour that rhymes with no other. I suppose it's because I knew once I accepted the 'ultimate orange room renovation challenge', the rest of the house simply HAD to follow. 

You see, though I love the layout of my home, it's been blessed with 'popcorn ceilings'. An interior design (once considered somewhat sexy) plaster application, that was popular when every kid in the neighborhood had to be home before the street lights came on, and your mama wasn't afraid to spank you.

Though the crap in the home has been painted twice since the its purchase, I've known for years the retro look needed to go. So, with the help of YouTube and an ambitious renovation schedule, the now famous orange room officially lost its 1980's 'early heritage status' yesterday!

Wearing my fancy fur-lined CROCS were just one of my many renovation mistakes yesterday!
TAKEN: JANUARY 12th, 2019

After the experience, I would love to share that my plaster removal video training had me feeling the same euphoria that beautiful puppies & very expensive wine offer, yet that would be a bold-faced lie.

Even with my decision to outfit my chair in the ugliest fitted bed sheet destine for landfill, in a room draped in plastic that I swear could have been prepared by Dexter, things did not go as smoothly as planned.

Though I appreciate my YouTube video schooled me to spray water on the plaster before removing it, it did not warn against the true downside of doing so. Therefore, I gave said training video a thumbs down.

Why? The room, my hair, my clothing, my slippers, my skin were all covered in a paste like substance I magically, albeit, unexpectedly created. 

That said, my reason for my negative review was 100x's bigger than anything listed above.

You see, I always sing when I work.

And that stuff, though generally moist & bad in texture...

Tastes absolutely awful!!

WHO'S A RICH GIRL?

On a very last minute whim I went to the local casino last Friday night.

For close to a year, a coworker'd been randomly inviting me to join her so I finally decided to tag along. Not to gamble,  rather to be entertained in the auditorium, the way I have always envisioned the intent; watching one of my favourite bands perform... Styx.

A crazy fun road trip to get there, we pulled in and the valet parked her very sexy SUV. Once inside the lobby, I felt a sudden gush of seasonal sensory overload. So much so, that my brain didn't know what to do. I wasn't sure if I should focus on the festive decorative tribute to Christmas in November,  or the very large volume of varying patrons buzzing about the lobby taking pictures of the tribute to Christmas in November.

My angst was immediately minimized when she proceeded to swiftly check into her complimented suite, where we enjoyed a lovely glass of red wine (or two) then matter-a-factly headed into the casino before the show.

It was quite crowded but nowhere near as loud as I’d remembered. As my french buddy 'Mauve' pulled up a specific machine and began ‘entertaining’ herself, I watched in awe. Quickly on a roll, at points she was up more than the value of a month of my wages.

Hanging low in the tall grass, I carefully sipped a glass of wine, ultimately feeling bad for watching the clock and interrupting her to let her know it was time to proceed to the show. After all, I suspect everything for her was free with their intent being she keeps her butt in a leather chair as long as possible; NOT the folding kind located in the auditorium.

We made it to the show and Styx was fantastic. When it finished we worked our way back toward the great indoors. We stopped and purchased some swag and she went to great lengths to make sure we had our picture taken to commemorate our crazy fun experience. Wandering back into the casino, I asked that she show me the premise on how she chooses a specific machine and how she determines how much to ultimately spend.

Not wanting to be a total stick in the mud, after her sharing her insight, I wandered a couple of rows away to try and hit my groove.

Ready to be completely entertained, I selected my poison carefully. I inserted my twenty dollar bill into the super slick suction pit that I swore was labelled... 'That puppy ain't never coming back.'

After what felt like an nanosecond, I cashed out my dime slot chit before I had lost my entire investment. I couldn't help but smile as I glanced at the focal aspect of my picture showing my take and announcing...

'She's a Rich Girl.'

Here's the skinny.

Though I enthusiastically donated a massive $19.64 toward my evenings entertainment, a couple of days later I realized a much more powerful thought about my out lay of cash, which is.... Your most cherished and valued wealth is  what you invest in great friends. 

Not only a great friend, this cat's a Super Hero.

Seriously... She's a Super Hero and she has a business card to prove it.

Trust me. I've seen it. Twice!

V IS FOR VINYL

I know I've written here before that I remember the first time I fell in love with the music of The Eagles. It was 1976 and if I close my eyes I can see my oldest brother setting the needle down on his new turntable to hear Hotel California for the very first time. If I focus on that moment, we were in his room. I can see his bright yellow t-shirt... Then, he simply dropped the needle. The rest is history.

I think I have been very fortunate to have had a mother that embraced vinyl, as well as to have lived within a generation where some of the best music of all time was produced. 

My mother was extremely proud of her collection of 78's and 33 1/3 albums. Yours, truly?  At best, I was always glued to a sparse 45rpm budget. One at a time with big breaks in between purchases. 

As I got older, my money went toward the purchase of a walkman and the trusty cassette tape, then its CD compatible counterpart, eventually graduating to downloading. Yes, I also have a satellite radio subscription and a kick ass pair of computer speakers should I like to watch and listen on YouTube BUT...

The honest truth is that vinyl owned my childhood my will always have my heart.

We've just acquired more than 600 vintage vinyl records. It's going to be a GREAT summer!
TAKEN: MARCH 26TH, 2016

I LOVE 'EM ALL ANYWAY

When I got home from work tonight, I instantly heard a faint sobbing coming from the front hall closet. As I opened the doors and leaned in, I realized it was my set of Rocketballz making the unsuspecting racket. As I wrapped my arms around to soothe them, you can't imagine my personal relief realizing my crying towels kept things under control until I got home.

One of my very faves... The 8th Tee at South Muskoka
TAKEN: JUNE 2013

Not gonna lie. It's after a great week like the one, that I realize how much I missed their Friday night company. In the old days, ending my work week with them made life just right.

I guess looking at the calendar and noticing the leaves changing I can't help but wonder where the heck the bulk of the golf season has gone. Not only that, talking my clubs off the ledge today made me realized, not only did I miss a great season but I missed that exciting euphoria every single golf course offers me. Even more so, I regret saying no to my Goob all summer. I've missed that mom & son quality time (that has effortless competitive sarcasm folded in) we always share on the course.

You know what else I miss? My pitching wedge, my heaven wood, and my putter. I truly do remember them fondly as we use to be the best of friends. As an aside, can you please not tell the others that my pitching wedge is my very favourite? Before you know it, the political infighting amongst them will have my short game disappear for good and my driver and other woods on strike for insubordination.

Ah hell, who am I kidding. This time last year, none of the above mentioned peeps in my golf bag ever listened, nor did what they were told. Yet, as I lovingly addressed them tonight I realized the obvious; I love 'em all anyway.

Afterall, they're family!

M IS FOR MIFFED!

Why is it lately I feel like everyone is screwing me and no one is buying me a drink first?

Seriously... Old friends, new friends (assholes, that think they’re my friend) even the odd Facebook "friend". In keeping with that theme, I have to go on the record that no one has screwed me longer and harder than Hydro One!!

I know I’ve ranted about this before but I can completely understand how some Canadian households don’t know if they should feed their family or keep them warm. Though my situation may not be as grave, it doesn't leave me any less disgruntled.

I guess my biggest complaint is what Hydro One wants... Hydro One gets. NO offering of foreplay, and most definitely, not even a finite drop of LUBE.

I can honestly tell you that after the last couple of winters, nothing will ever surprise me. The only preparation I have for getting screwed, are the actions I take before I open the bill: I tense up every muscle in my body and brace myself for what's coming!

All I’ll say is that after every one of our monthly encounters, I’m always left unsatisfied.

No big surprise there. I suspect the CEO has a teeny weeny…. BRAIN!!!

WE’VE BEEN ROBBED…. AGAIN!

The picture I am sharing today was the one the Bank took in December of 1999 when they appraised our cottage on Orillia Lake. All these years later, though the landscape has changed, that photo is still pinned on the fridge with a magnet. As you know, this neat little haven has served us well as a family.

That very first winter we spent many enjoyable days there, yet didn’t spend the night until the snow was totally melted in the spring of 2000. About three weekends into full-time enjoyment, we arrived that Friday night to the realization that we’d been robbed. I remember feeling a tad scared, not to mention really fecking mad! How the hell could someone be so self-serving?

The structure remains the same... But the landscape has definitely changed.
TAKEN: DECEMBER 1999 

Well, this week I discovered we’ve been robbed out there again. This time, by Hydro One!

As you all know, I obsess about my Lakeland Power bill for the home in town. That said, all these years later, I have never really bothered to take a good look at the cottage hydro bill. 

So, when I opened the current bill for $158.36, I thought my Christmas cottage romp was generally pretty affordable. Then, I started to think about it; I only used three small 110 volt heaters and barbecued (mostly) because it was so mild. It was then, I decided to really look at it. The bill was for the last three month billing period,  ending December 25th.

Last fall, in the 90 billing days, I used a total $14.03 in hydro and none of it was in On-Peak time. Keeping the HST,  their debt retirement out and grabbing my bullshit Clean Energy Benefit... 897% of my bill was delivery!

I'm an open minded gal but nothing pisses me off more than getting truly screwed and no one buying me a drink first. Wait, could that be what my Clean Energy Benefit credit is for? A drink, so that I can get up the nerve to pay my bill? Hell, the value of that is so small, I wouldn't even be able to fill a thimble with rubbing alcohol. Whatever, all I can do at this point is express my frustration. So here's a visual...

All you need to do is imagine me cheering. Imagine that you can hear my voice enthusiastically saying "I'm your number one fan Hydro One... I'm your number ONE fan Hydro One..." really loudly and over and over again.

Now, picture me waving my extremely outstretch middle finger, whilst gloriously chanting it!

Ya Gotta Laugh About It...!!

SHOEd HAVE KNOWN BETTER!

To set the record straight, compared to some of my girlfriends, I don’t have anything close to what most consider a shoe fetish. Truth of the matter is that my tender tootsie hobby pales in comparison to my obsession with a first class concert going experience. However, I'm not disrespectful of the process. When I come across a pair of shoes that truly speak to me, I bust open my piggy bank and toddle them all the way home.

Well, this past Friday night was one of the few times this year that I’ve actually gotten dressed up and headed out. Not gonna lie, I had looked forward to the shindig all week. Not because I was excited to be wearing the new dress my husband had bought me, but because I knew it would perfectly complement the sexiest pair of shoes I own.

Let’s face it, it’s mid-life for me. Any function that keeps me awake later than ten o’clock at night is rarely attended. Well, Friday night was a whopper. You can imagine that I didn't make it home by ten, and when I finally did arrive, I was a glittery hot mess!

Glass half full...? The house wine was very nice. Yet, too many glasses half full were savoured and consumed.

My photo does not do my very sexy babies justice *sniff*
TAKEN: DECEMBER 16th, 2014

The moral of my story is… Not only did I pay for it all weekend, so did my very super sexy shoes!

My social media friends know that when I recently returned from vacation I got a puppy (those closest to me understand why). Her name is Annie.

She's settled in quite nicely and I am having great success training her. She's smart but as expected each and every day her teeth get sharper. I really wasn't worried about it as we have a lot chew things scattered around the house... or so I thought.

The sad part of my story is that Annie isn't the one that chewed my shoe. It  was my oldest Dottie that did the deed and she did it slowly and quietly so that she wouldn't be caught. Kinda like me with a Sex In The City marathon and a family size bag of Miss Vickie's Sea Salt & Malt chips. In a nutshell, guess when us bitches have our compulsions, there's simply no stopping us.

The truth of the matter is that I will really miss this specific pair of shoes.

Last weekend's hangover...? Not so much!

Please Note: No dogs were harmed in the making of this Post... Nor were any Miss Vickies chips consumed during and/or after the photo shoot!

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. 

...HOW MANY MORE SLEEPS?

It's official. Booked and paid for, I'm taking an exciting last minute vacation next month!

It wasn't something that had been on my radar but as I looked at spending a boatload of money for an extended stay in February, I slowly began analyzing. Turns out there's a significant cost savings taking two one week vacations (a few months apart) rather than two weeks together mid winter.  

Truth of the matter is, last year I realized a week just isn't long enough in February. We're so far north, we lose two travel days getting there and coming home; then once you've decompressed and get into a routine, it's time to start packing to come back home to the snow. 

After I couldn't solidify the February plans, I started to reflect about our Christmas vacation of 2012. (We'd packed up our pups and headed to a house on the beach in South Carolina.) Having that shot of Vitamin D before the real crux of winter hit was amazing. Then, with the thought of how truly perfect that trip was, got me to thinking.

...Which brings me to today.

Right after I see another 'Bucket List' concert, I'm heading to YYZ the following morning and jumping a 7:30am plane. In less than a month from now, I'll be running along an amazing stretch of beach in the Caribbean. Screw my new treadmill... I'll be running and singing, while baking in the morning sun!

I don't know about you, but for me, there's something about the planning of any kind of time away, that makes me reflective of the adventures that I've already had.

Like anyone, I'm sure vacation moments are memorable because they've had some sort of defining personal moment; others, just seem to jump out as memorable because you know you'd never want history repeat itself. I try not to draw comparisons but over time I've developed a pretty specific 'must have' list.

So, once again, down to two and over thinking which resort (resulting in numerous phone calls throughout the process) my husband reminded me that the most important 'must have' was already in place and the the rest of the little shit won't matter.

"We'll be together" he said.

And just like that I handed over a credit card number... because that kind of logical thinking made the decision for us!

It Just Ain’t Adding Up

Today’s the first day of Spring and I walked to work in a raging blizzard. I really didn't mind. I was bundled up and the music flowing through my headphones was perfect. As I stared out my office window all day, I couldn't help but pray for it to be over. Not the snow per say but the excessive bills that follow this crap and seem to be never ending.

Nothing like a great BIG screw
to get you through the winter!

Like every single family in Ontario, hydro has been that expense that has always been deemed the evil wicked step monster running the mafia for years.

Why so bitter? My last bill was 25% higher than any other bill I have ever received in this home (which was purchased in 2002).

I've never contested a hydro bill ever before. I've just let the hydro company screw me without even buying me a drink first. I’m not sure if I have any rights but I suspect I don’t.

My son updated his status today about how he envisioned someone giving his eulogy. "He always paid his bills on time... You gave this guy a bill he paid it! He was a bill-paying Son of a B!”

As I paid some bills online tonight, it was he I truly felt bad for. Young and hardworking, he was screwed far worse than I by Hydro this last month. By my calculation, Lakeland doesn't need to buy him a drink: they need to buy him some solid shares in Seagram's!!

...And THAT's I gotta say about that!!!

3 Bills & A Bilge Pump To Boot!

Bessie Bowrider arriving at her new home...
Taken: June 21,2013

I am kinda proud that I’ve never been a "stuff" person. I have never been in the habit of buying “stuff” I don’t need. However, in this instance, I am totally guilty of doing just that. What can I say? When it comes to my pups I spare no expense!

I should start by sharing that we have a boat. A waterski boat with 135hp Merc on the back. It’s far too much boat and motor for our lake and the Muskoka river infrastructure that accompanies it; but it too was a great deal, and purchased for my two legged children, not my furry four legged ones. 

Dottie & Bessie getting acquainted.
Taken: July 29th, 2013

This past winter, one of my blog mentors posted on Facebook that they had a small bowrider boat for sale: boat, motor, trailer and all fixings for three hundred bucks! She posted pics of her and her family enjoying old Bessie and I immediately bought her sight unseen.

Last weekend Tony and I took Bessie Bowrider to the Spa. Scrubbed her down and gave her a head to toe makeover. Pressure washed the covers, and placed her in the water for all to see.

She looks great for a mature woman and she runs like a well-oiled machine. Bottom line is we’re really lucky to have her.

I love our cottage. We have several kilometres of boating we enjoy. We have the ability to boat really fast around the lake, as well as putt along the river peacefully enjoying it's natural beauty. We have it all ten minutes from our home without a gigantic tax bill. Over the years people have had distinct opinions when they hear where our cottage is located, but their opinions are exactly that - theirs!

Bessie putting Puddin' to sleep!
Taken: July 1,2013

Honestly? Nine times out of ten I look at their legal site address and I bite my tongue. Not out of envy, but because I am dying to ask the multi million dollar question.

Is it paid for?

Just like Bessie Bowrider... The Peacock's Nest has three golden words in common with her.

PAID IN FULL! 

Literally A Dog's Breakfast!

For whatever reason our dogs have always had a focus on my things. All things that are mine; nothing in particular. Let’s just say using history as a guide (for the better part of a decade) I have always kept my shoes in a closet vault under lock and key.

Well, last Friday night I got all gussied up and headed to the Annual MBA Spring Fling. It's not like it was a super formal event but let's just say no one showed up in  denim jeans and a Muskoka Dinner Jacket.

Dog tired when I arrived home (no pun intended) I accidentally left my super expensive sandal back leather shoes on the landing by the front door. The weekend passed without event. Silly me, it never once registered that I should return my wee gems to the shoe vault in my closet.

As you know, I left for Toronto bright and early Monday morning; by the time I returned home late Tuesday afternoon, the deed was done. Puddin’ had been eagerly snacking on my favourite leather dancing shoe. UGH! I shook my head and rolled my eyes. I obviously blamed myself for leaving a really tender piece of beef jerky by the door, and tried to immediately let it go. Sucks to be me.

Glass half full? Could have been the new purse I bought Tuesday!
Taken: March 14th, 2013 (at 6:30am)

Going through the motions of a regular workday, I got out of the shower this morn, and wandered into the living room.

There they both were; enjoying a very expensive luxury breakfast. 

My guess? Dottie realized after her Quirky Sidekick didn’t get her sorry ass booted into next week for the first shoe, the other must automatically have her name on it.

What did I do?

Chuckled; grabbed my phone and snapped this pic. Why? Because life is too short.  Ya Gotta Laugh About it! 

Which is exactly what I did.