SMILING WITH MY DAD

Technically a 2nd cousin we consider her a neice.
We truly consider her father my husbands' brother.
TAKEN: JULY 23rd, 2023

In my life thus far, I have had the privilege to come in contact and get to know an above average number of people; and none compare to this sweet girl my husband proudly calls his 'very favourite cuz!'  (Slang for cousin.)

Due to multiple neurological surgeries as a toddler, she's technically classified as developmentally disabled - but I swear, if everyone on earth had her optimistic outlook toward others, the world would definitely be a much better place.

Anyway, home to do chores Sunday, in late afternoon I was sitting at the kitchen table and I could hear someone calling my name from afar. As I looked over my shoulder out to the street I glimpsed a grin from ear to ear. There she was, her arms waving with excitement that she would get to stop by for a visit.

When we arrived outside she noticed my Petro Canada glass I had in hand. She commented that it was pretty and I told her the stories about my collecting them. She curiously asked me, "did I ever meet your dad?" She continued, "do you think he remembered meeting me?" So into the house I went to get the photo albums.

Pictures of our families camping at my dad cottage. Photos of her mom (which we lost to cancer in 2004) with her dad and siblings, all of us having a blast with my dad. She loved looking at all the photos and said she enjoyed my husband and I reminiscing.

Then came the big moment. I asked her to have a drink of Sprite with my dad. 'It's tradition', I said. She was elated. 

As she stood behind her bike and held up her glass, he tone became particularly firm and serious.

Make sure you hold the camera up on an angle from above.... she said. 'I don't want people to see my double chin.'

A beautiful heart and soul that also knows how to take a proper selfie. Not gonna lie, I was shocked that in the moment she directed me so specifically - but just look at that smile. The photo is absolutely gorgeous.

Just like her!!

G IS FOR GRANDPARENTS

 

Seen here with my dads parents, my truly amazing grandparents.

My Mommy knit my sweater. I LOVED that purple thing.
This photo confirms that I was clearly born to be a Prince fan!
TAKEN: Spring 1973

I was born in a very small town, just across the Ontario border, in western Quebec. 

It was a small pulp and paper town, where the majority of my extended family grew up. More importantly, it was where both sets of my parents parents lived only a few miles apart.

I had a great childhood. With such vivid memories imbedded in my head before we moved to Ontario. Oh the wonderful memories I have of 222 2nd Avenue.

Spending time in the lane with my Pepere as chickadees landed on his hat and then he ultimately had them eating from his hand. Him teaching me to stepdance as he played from a fiddle he had in fact crafted himself. 

And that my Memere, always let me stand by her side at the stove explaining her process for what she was making. Her letting me shake the flour mixture to help her make gravy stands out the most. 

So much so,  that every time I watch my mother-in-law embrace the same process, my childhood in that kitchen comes rushing back to me.

Let's face it. I know those things may read as simple, but their love was heartfelt and I think they are one of the reasons that I have never had issue showing affection as an adult. 

I suppose there is a possibility they were just pacifying a gregarious kid - but if that was the case, they never let on. 

And for that... I have always been truly grateful.

J IS FOR JOVIAL

 There are so many words I could have selected for this letter. 

Justified, joyful, jaunt (a very long one) yet I ultimately chose JOVIAL. 

I picked it because it was how I felt when my spouse and I reconnected with my brother (pictured below) over a fifteen hour phone call. Which is truly amazing, considering the three of us hadn’t spoken in as many years.

My big brother in the downstairs room where he first played me Hotel California on his new stereo.
TAKEN: 1983

Growing up, I was the youngest and he the eldest of four. 

Though I have many vibrant memories, my mom making him sit with me to go through the Sears Wish Book catalogue when I was about seven stands out; I can see us sitting at his desk.

That specific exercise was to help her establish what I was hoping Santa was going to bring, which must have been a drag, because as my senior he knew the real deal.

All these years later, I know he did it because he was made to, but I think he will be surprised to read that I still remember our very first Christmas in Ontario at 190 Shier Street like it was yesterday. 

Growing up, I was always in awe of him. He had cool friends, played in a band, did well in school, and always seemed to have a very specific direction. I'm sure the latter had something to do with my mother but I can’t say for sure.

In our clan, he was the first and I the last. Bookends per se, for all the family adventures and stories the others grew up with. He was closest to our mother before her death, me to our dad before his.

As I share the photo I do tonight, you can see I tore it trying to take it out and scan it. So once again this challenge, I share another Kodak moment that is a picture of a picture. Funny how times have digitally changed.

As my big bro sent a text in song for my birthday, I giggled and smiled from ear to ear.

Not just because we’d reconnected…. But because he’d become my newest electronic friend, as well as he has always been one of the very few people I have always enjoy talking on the telephone with.

Who’d a friggin' thunk it? Not this cat!

B IS FOR BROMANCE

 The urban dictionary defines the word bromance as the combination of two words, "brother" and "romance". It describes the unique male bonding found between "brothers from another mother". 

Though both Goob and Jukebox do have friendships with ‘brothers from another mother,’ their bond with each other has been equally as strong their entire lives.

That's Goob in blue and Jukebox in stripes.
The four of us enjoying Father's Day golf with the pre-surgery Poppa Bear.
TAKEN: JUNE 20th, 2021

As a matter a fact, I can recall my serving lunch to my three littlun’s at their wee yellow and orange Little Tykes picnic table. The twins were about four and Jukebox about six years of age. 

As they dined on their amazing culinary offering of PB&J, Goob looked at his brother, called him by name and proudly stated ‘...I love you’. As his sentiments were returned by his brother, their sister grabbed both of their plastic plates and threw their lunch to the dogs. 

True story, I swear. I still chuckle to myself whenever I think about it.

They have always shared life experiences. From taking diving lessons together when they were really young to junior golf memberships as teens, then onto mutual high school and work friendships. They have truly spent their formative years as a team, which remain their bond today.

That said, we are not a family that has not been without struggles and we've suffered growing pains like most. As parents of grown children, we’ve always been impressed that if we took issue with any behaviours or attitudes, these two never weighed in against the other.  

I can think of several instances over the years where the best medicine for all of us was some distance rather than unproductive dialogue. As a family, those have been, and always will be the most challenging and trying memories;  but once resolved, our family strength was regained.

As you know, there's no handbook for being the 'best parent on the face of the earth' because we were told last summer by our daughter matter-of-factly that we weren't. Just like other rents we know, we've hurt, been hurt, and ultimately healed. 

Then I look at these two with their Dad. It warms my heart to know that through all of our own short comings as parents, as grown children they know we've done our best with individual circumstances at the time.

Oh, the fact that we started golfing as a crew on Sunday again? 

Just one of the many small added bonuses!

THE OREO GANG

(l-r: Annie, Puddin' & wee Miya Maria)
AKA: THE OREO GANG
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 21, 2022

When my husband was hospitalized in late September last year it was my eldest son, Jukebox, that moved into the house while I stayed in Downtown Toronto. 

As you can imagine, we checked in with each other several times a day and through that first week, he would report each morning that ‘all was A-OK with the Oreo Gang.' A witty and totally relevant nickname that has stayed with my trio ever since.

Let me backup....

When we came to the realization that our beloved Puddin’ was aging, we began communicating with a breeder because we worried if something happened to her, our Annie wouldn’t be able to soldier on alone. She was over six and had never been a lone pup. She had come to us at five weeks to join Dottie and Puddin’ as a third. 

Never considered a third wheel in the pack, infact, she turned into an excellent facilitator between the other two very early on. After Dot passed in July of 2019, Annie and Pud hit their stride – and I knew I never wanted to leave her on her own.

Enter wee Miya Maria. Born in April of 2021 and arriving home in June. Just look at the picture, the three of them are thick as thieves. Though full disclosure has me admit that I may have had a cookie in the air to get them to pose.

Short story long, I love my pups. So much so, that every year since our children left the nest, I have turned the Family Day holiday into Family Furbaby Day. From the time they get up in the morning until they fall asleep at night, everything revolves around them.

As you know, I have aptly labelled myself the ‘Crazy Dog Lady' but what you don’t know, is that my very favourite coffee mug reads: “MY GOAL IN LIFE IS TO BE THE PERSON MY DOGS ALREADY THINK I AM!”

How that for setting the bar high?!

She's right up there with me always keeping my glass AS WELL AS the treat jar half full instead of half empty.

S IS FOR SWEETIE

My Sweetie and me enjoying a Cafe de Monde beignets in the French Quarter, NOLA.
TAKEN: MAY 30th, 2019

From the April A-Z Blogging archives.
This was originally posted April 22nd, 2020

It was five years ago this week that my Sweetie moved home from Calgary. It pains me to remember just how emotionally spent and somewhat broken she was when we picked her up at the airport. 

She’d invested her trust and love to a person that was not only mentally unstable but extremely abusive. As silly as this may read, as a mother, the first telltale sign for me how lost she was, was that she’d dyed her beautiful long curly hair jet black.

Five years later, she's working hard at a full time job, made some exciting new friendships, not to mention nurtured and re-established solid friendships she’d left behind. More importantly, she's finally let certain people go. Those that have ultimately lied and betrayed her over and over again.

So many things come to mind for me when I look at the picture but first and foremost it tells me just how far my daughter has come. The quite, teary mouse, that returned home, has now reverted in the firecracker we know and love. 

Though there are (and probably always will be) scars, I think she realizes that her future is much brighter than the darkness that surrounded us five years ago.

L IS FOR LAUGHTER

From the A-Z Blogging archives

This was originally posted on April 14, 2013

From a very young age, I could find humour in anything. I wasn’t the class clown, but I wasn’t found hiding in the corner either. 

You know the old saying? “When you meet the one you’re going to marry, you’ll know.” I couldn’t agree more. Because from the very first date we went on, Tony made me laugh and I was smitten.

I am quick to admit that I really do have a pretty sick sense of humour, so for the most part, we've always had a home filled with sarcasm and laughter. Sunday dinners were always my favourite, because one of the five of us would be on the hot seat, in turn it was front row entertainment for us all.

April 14th, 2013 - LAUGHTER
Taken: April 2008

My son has a natural rhythm for delivering zingers. His wit is so sharp that you can’t see the joke coming until everyone around you is bent over with laughter.

My husband tries, so do I, but more often than not my children comment “Ooooh Mom… That was a Dad joke!” Which means I completely tanked in my effort. 

Doesn’t keep me from getting back on the horse. Never has, and it never will.

Kurt Vonnegut said “laughter and tears are both responses of frustration and exhaustion. I prefer to laugh because there is less cleaning up to do afterwards!” I couldn’t agree more. Except for when you make me laugh so hard I cry. Honestly? THAT is the very best cleanup this gal loves to experience.

Have a great day all, and remember to keep that frown turned upside down!

G IS FOR GIFT

From the Aprill A-Z Blogging archives.

This was originally posted on April 8th, 2014

Audrey Hepburn once said, “you can always tell what a man really thinks of you by the earrings he gives you.”

I have only been given one pair of earrings in my entire life. They were extravagant solitaire diamonds, and they were beautiful. I lost one about ten years ago, but the other still sits in my jewelry box to this day. They were given as a gift. An expression of love.

I have been married for almost a quarter century, and the earrings were not from my husband. My comment wasn't to share about the earrings per se, but to illustrate the fact that gifting has never been something I have a whole lot of experience with. 

My husband has never been one to land at home with a gift “just because”. However, I'll jump to his complete and unconditional defense admitting that neither have I.

April 8th, 2013 - GIFTS
Taken: Myrtle Beach SC (Xmas 1997)

In the early years it was a money thing. Today we both just find the whole gifting to each other expectation a little silly.

After all these years together, by refraining from the exercise, sometimes I wonder if that's why neither of us aren't even remotely materialistic people

When it comes to us, there's never been some underlying expectation that the next gift will out shine the last. 

We need something we buy it. We don't need it, we don't have it.

Both of us were raised to appreciate that the best gifts in life come from the heart rather than from a shopping mall. I wish I could admit that when it came to our children we didn't over indulge, but at least we always tried to make them prioritize what they desired most.

At the end of the day, the earrings may have been the most expensive gift I have ever been given, but they are nowhere near my most treasured by far. That gift, is something that I have just recently given myself.

It's called hope.

MY HOLIDAY MUGGING

My hug-a-mugga-fulla-java holiday tradition I truly enjoy.
TAKEN: DECEMBER 24th (l-r 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020)

I am sipping a hot cup of coffee in my home office, while streaming the Hallmark Channel of traditional holiday tunes on Sirius. Like most with small children will be doing tomorrow, I am waiting for the sun to rise so I can greet this new day. 

Today is officially the holiday eve when the big fat guy in red loads up his sleigh, and parents everywhere prepare to search of AA batteries until midnight. Though I pride myself to have never gone overboard in the 'buying of crap department', this year I struggled to find the one thing I truly enjoy searching for: my silly holiday coffee mug. 

It started a few years back when I began embracing Instagram. The mug became a unique way to send best wishes to the masses whilst embracing my love of taking pictures. Not an online shopper, before purchasing this offering (the mug on the far right) I really did have to search high and low locally.  

In the end, I chose the one I did for the one-word explanation it illustrates. 

I literally stood in the store talking to myself, wishing the past year had brought more joy and far less angst in so many areas of my life. My 2020 choice resembles what I hope the future will unconditionally bring to everyone. JOY.

Merry Covid Christmas eve everyone. More importantly... 

Java GREAT day!

MY CHUCK B. TREE

Miss Annie alongside my wee Chuck B. tree.
TAKEN: DECEMBER 11th, 2020

The good news is the holiday countdown is officially on.  The bad news is, I managed to accidentally kill our very festive holiday tree. 

This year, after discovering there was a tree shortage, we picked the best of the height challenged from our local spot the end of November; then proceeded to load up a six-foot tree with the hundreds of lights that usually illuminated our regular nine-footer. 

In hindsight, I fear this was one of many deadly mistakes made.

A week or so in I noticed my wee Chuck B was not taking on water. The second week I noticed my holiday ribbon beginning to sag. Figuring he was sent to market a month before he became mine, then proudly jimmy rigged him on a glass table so his star could reach the ceiling (next to a large picture window), week three had the inevitable happened. Suffice it to say, I had to officially call his very brittle time of death. 

Not one to throw dead needles out before a celebration supper, I decided to refrain from plugging in my beloved 700+ lights until our upcoming Christmas morn. 

Meaning, the neatly wrapped gifts will be lit by a lighter shade of green on Chuck's last day, then I will have him serve as my annual Boxing Day quick burn bonfire sacrifice. In a non-religious or Game of Thrones kinda way!

Jokes aside, I’m not even remotely surprised about the general fate of my tree. As a matter a fact, as we head back toward grey-lockdown here in Ontario, I will just add it to my long list of... “I didn’t see that coming at me in 2020." Which also reinforces the important message my buddy Charlie Brown (aka - Chuck B) has been reminding me for decades: “It’s not what’s under the Christmas tree that matters. It’s who’s around it.” 

I guess the difference between this year and all others previous, is if you happen to be one of the five in my bubble on Christmas Day, I must ask that you please refrain from standing around the tree with any type of heat bearing or igniting thingamajigs.

Better yet, best ensure ugly holiday sweaters are both flame retardant and cover off at least two of the four hazard categories for arc protection and flame resistance: being the tree itself and a turkey that may burst into flames in the oven. 

Guess as a proactive measure, I should promise to have both fire extinguishers and garden hose on standby to keep our wee bubble of visitors safe from any potential and unexpected harm. Which is soothing in itself. 

But let's face it.... 

Who the hell worries about an ongoing lockdown and world pandemic risk when I'm the one cooking a butter-basted bird?!

#yagottalaughaboutit

DEAL WITH IT!

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

Either way, I'll deal with it. 

Get it?

Cards?

Deal?

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

A solid groan would also be totally appropriate!

KEEPING IT REAL

This is US at Orillia Lake.
TAKEN: 2008

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

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

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

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

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

Which leads me to my point:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.... But family is forever!

S IS FOR SWEETIE

My Sweetie and me enjoying a Cafe de Monde beignets in the French Quarter, NOLA.
TAKEN: MAY 30th, 2019

It was five years ago this week that my Sweetie moved home from Calgary. It pains me to remember just how emotionally spent and somewhat broken she was when we picked her up at the airport. 

She’d invested her trust and love to a person that was not only mentally unstable but extremely abusive. As silly as this may read, as a mother, the first telltale sign for me how lost she was, was that she’d dyed her beautiful long curly hair jet black.

Five years later, she's working hard at a full time job, made some exciting new friendships, not to mention nurtured and re-established solid friendships she’d left behind. More importantly, she's finally let certain people go. Those that have ultimately lied and betrayed her over and over again.

So many things come to mind for me when I look at the picture but first and foremost it tells me just how far my daughter has come. The quite, teary mouse, that returned home, has now reverted in the firecracker we know and love. 

Though there are (and probably always will be) scars, I think she realizes that her future is much brighter than the darkness that surrounded us five years ago.

QUIET QUESTMAS

Proof of a very quiet Questmas Eve!
TAKEN: DECEMBER 24th, 2019

Well, this morning I took down the holiday tree and shuffled all its complimentary accessories into storage beneath the stairs. The holidays were very quiet for me this year. I am pleased to report that my quest for rest and relaxation was definitely accomplished.

As things stand now, I’m not headed into the sun this winter. Instead, I am headed into downtown Toronto to participate in a six week digital technologies course, at a cutting edge learning hub. (I’ll head to the GTA after work every Friday and head home by dusk on Saturday.)

Since enrolling, I’ve been talking to a couple of my closest confidants about this opportunity and how excited I truly am.

I’ve been involved in digital marketing before most understood the reach and power online media offers. With my current digital footprint being what I would classify as decent, I can't express how excited I am to be gaining even more knowledge.

That said, participating in this course will do one of two things. Affirm my current success has been thanks to skills I have honed on my own. OR, reprogram my thought process to maximize my skill set that will ultimately take me to another level in my career; no matter which, it will be a win-win scenario for yours truly.

As I hit publish on my first post for 2020, I can’t believe that I am going to actually admit that I am looking forward to the rest of this winter.

I know, eh?!

Let's just hope Mother Nature doesn’t fly off her meds for my six week commute.

REMEMBERING 2019

Most Significant Moment: 

The unexpected and very tragic passing of my sister in law Pamela Peacock.

She passed October 28th, 2019 and was only 39 years old. 

Pictured here in the middle, may this beautiful face, forever rest in peace.

My year in the rear view!
TAKEN: Throughout 2019

January:  My renovation project 'Popcorn Ceiling Begone' got underway. It lasted three months and the next floor gets underway again in January 2020. 

February: Spent an amazing week walking the miles of beach in Cayo Coco, Cuba.

March: My Spotti Dotti and her best friend by the bonfire. (Her very favourite thing to do!)

April: My birthday trip to New York City. It was amazing having my son as my tour guide and seeing Billy Joel at Madison Square Garden.

May: Took a Mommy/Daughter weekend trip to New Orleans, Louisiana. Here she is on Bourbon Street!!

June: My beloved Toronto Raptors won the 2019 NBA title.

July: The very difficult decision was made to allow Dot to finally sleep easy and rest in peace.

August: Spent the majority of this month and next living with the pups at the cottage. The solitude was exactly what I needed.

September: Played hostess for our company's bi-annual team building fishing trip on the west end of Lake Nippissing.

October: Was sickened by the entire federal election campaign bullshit that took place.

November: During my week long vacation I hiked to the top to the El Faro Lighthouse in Mexico

December: A whirlwind month that finally slowed down on Christmas Eve. Marking, what will hopefully be, a couple of new traditions.

Bullet points aside, this past year had me dealing with serious illness, the loss of several cherished loved ones, as well as a fur baby. 

I think a combination of all of the events is why now, more than ever, I am going to try not to focus my energy on others that aren't going to enhance my personal life and my loved ones around me for the better. 

As I have written here before, I believe sometimes all people need is a hand to hold, an ear to listen, and a heart to understand them. I think that is going to be my motto for the next year and surround myself accordingly.

Welcome 2020. 

Let's make it one of the best ones yet!

I’M AN IDIOT!

In my everyday life, I feel I have an abundance of amazing acquaintances, and a rather small group of very tightly knit confidantes. Two of the latter are former colleagues that I worked with for a decade, which began close to thirty years ago.

All these years later, I swear we will be racing our wheelchairs down the hallway of the only nursing home that will admit us as a trouble making trio in our twilight years. One I speak to every day, the other I speak to sporadically but when we do connect it’s always as if time’s stood still. I unconditionally trust them both.

Today, on my regular carpool call to Smartie, I disclosed I’d accidentally stood up our mutual friend (that I haven't seen face to face in a couple of years) for lunch. He assured me that he’d understand, yet I still felt like a big bag of poo. In an effort to cheer me up, he decided to reminisce about the time they’d participated in management sensitivity training together.

The task at hand was to turn to their partner and pay them a compliment. Smartie recalled the other had a female coworker (and close friend) that he was to compliment, to which he turned and with a straight face nodded declaring, “nice tits!”

My car instantly filled with laughter and I could see the look on everyone’s face as this infamous character once again brought down the house with his timing and general off colour wit. 

"Man, I’m mad at myself for missing lunch," I whined. 

Then Smartie reminded me that a true friend overlooks your failures. So, because today was an epic fail, when I got home I took an end of the day selfie simply to remind him what I look like.

That said, being apart doesn’t change the fact that we've recognize that for years we'd always keep in touch. I suspect that and our keen senses of humour and love of sarcasm are why our roots will always run so deep.

....And that I know I'm a fecking idiot for standing him up!

Snapped an end of day selfie so the lunch date (that I haven't seen in two years)
could remember what his idiot friend named Rhondi looks like!
TAKEN: NOVEMBER 14th, 2019

F IS FOR FURBABY

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

THE GIFT OF GUILT

My daughter & I headed out yesterday morning to tackle the tail end of our holiday shopping. This time of year, I always shop locally to support smaller merchants, bolstering community sales whilst staying out of Walmart. All comments aside, due to something very specific on my shopping list, I entered the corporate vortex.

That said, the point of my post has nothing to do with the Walmart business plan, more that if I go shopping hungry, I generally buy a bunch of crap I'd never purchase nor feed to my worst enemy.

Truth is, I generally overload my cart & overspend on comfort food. With the subliminal thought process that I'll be able enjoy my sinful spoils when I get home.

My next confession is that our timing yesterday had us land at the Walmart McDonalds to avoid the  previously mentioned shopping threat; which in itself was an epic fail.

Now, I truly try to avoid all fast food outlets. Simply because since midlife, I swear my well established fat cells expand the instant they smell french fry grease gurgling in any nearby deep frying vat. The second reason for my general fast food boycott is the toll a single experience takes on my wallet. Man, that place in particular's expensive.

As I paid what felt like a small fortune for our lunch (and waiting for it to arrive) I had my Sweetie and I pose for a picture together. Though we see each other at least once a week, we rarely make the effort to capture the simple milestone moments we may share; like gorging on 30+ grams of fat and over indulging on carbs & sodium.

Last minute shopping with my Sweetie. Embracing a glamour shot under fluorescent lights!
TAKEN: DECEMBER 22nd, 2018

I’m laughing at writing that.

I am laughing because I tend to always focus on the negative rather than the positive. That, and because I know more than most, that guilt is the ultimate gift that keeps on giving.

Yup, yesterday I did Walmart.

Yup, yesterday I ate fast food.

Yup, yesterday I had to spit on my hand, calm down my out of control bangs and retake the picture I'm sharing. 

Seeing as I am sharing about guilty pleasures, last night I proudly watched a Hallmark Christmas movie I’ve seen a couple of time before and got just as emotional as I did the last time I watched it.

Glass half full?

Yesterday confirms my Sweetie is definitely my daughter (replace a Hallmark movie with How I Met Your Mother). Except for her hair.

It was perfect in her hat and didn’t need any of my impulsive spat for the retake.

Felt the need to clarify that.

Just sayin'

A FRESH FALL START

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

G IS FOR GIGGLE

Oh, the power of social media, and just one way to give back!
TAKEN: March 17th & March 19th, 2018

The morning of St. Patrick's Day, I text my daughter and asked her if she wanted to join me for lunch. As expected, she said yes. It was originally just to be the two of us but right before I left the house, my husband decided to come with. I was a tad surprised, because he awoke that morning feeling under the weather.

Short story long, when we arrived at the restaurant I snapped their picture and posted it onto my personal social media platform. As soon as I did, the comments started to roll in with regards to the general lack of enthusiasm on is face. Going with the flow, I decided to let the thread of discussion ensue.

Well, when he arrived at work the following Monday all hell broke loose. No matter where he turned he was being asked why he had a great big bug up his ass!

Because I had no feel for what kind of day he'd had, I was a tad surprised when he picked me up at my carpool stop and asked if anyone had mention the picture I had posted from our lunch the previous Saturday. I started naming names of the instigators, then thought nothing else of it. UNTIL... we arrived at my daughters work and he grabbed her and immediately asked me to take their picture.

I'm laughing just writing about it. Look at my goof... Making a point for all to see.

Ya gotta GIGGLE... I mean laugh about it!