D IS FOR DAUGHTER

My best friend. My closest confidant. My daughter.
TAKEN: 1996 - 2018

REMEMBERING 2017

January: An amazing bonfire on the very first day of the year.

February: A long weekend jaunt to Cuba

March: Me...celebrating Spring!

April: My birthday trip to New Orleans!!

May: The murder of Wendy Boland

June: Finished a decade long project at the cottage.

July: Celebrated Canada 150

August: A beautiful wedding in the rain.

September: A team building fishing trip to the French River

October: Mourned the death of a Canadian icon.

November: Celebrated my Mother in Law's milestone 70th birthday

December: Ended my work year with a bunch of amazing people

Proud Mama Moment? Witnessing my son kill it in the finals of The Muskoka Voice singing competition.

She was one for the record books!
TAKEN: JAN-DEC 2017

THE ART OF PATIENCE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks for reading.

A MILLION WONDERFUL WORDS

Well, it poured rain the majority of this past long weekend.

Ignoring the 14 day long term weather forecast, a couple of weeks ago I decided to book a vacation day for today, hoping in the off chance it might eventually clear. That said, I wasn't surprised this afternoon when my good nature & cheery disposition were out of sorts.

When I woke this morn it was very apparent that summer's ending quicker than I could have ever expected. Though I’ve always faithfully flown an “I love fall” banner, the almanac this year's reporting that the snow will arrive mid-October and not leave until the lakes open next spring; which is probably why I fired the stupid thing straight into the wood stove to fuel my cast iron tea kettle!

Feeling my summer separation anxiety bordering a full-blown panic attack (per the annual norm) I looked to what soothes me best; the thousands of wonderful photos I have taken this season.

It may not have been the best summer weather on record but I managed to find me a stitch of mischief to get into, an above average amount of family fun to embrace, whilst soaking up some serious weekend downtime.

AMAZING memories were created in-spite of the plethora of rain we've received this season.
TAKEN: SUMMER 2017

Let’s see, record rainfall aside, the coles notes version starts with the fact that that I managed to get a killer tan. In addition to that earth shattering news, I stayed up well past my past by bed time, not once but three times.

I broke my toe jumping into the shallow end of a pool that didn’t have a deep end, and I managed to get Dot out in the boat that floats in between lightening strikes. She was estatic; the two I left behind, not so much.

I was blessed to attended the most beautiful wedding in the rain as Jukebox stood witness. Only to beam with even more pride as he became a finalist in the Muskoka Voice contest, a local version of the elimination show on NBC. Equally as exciting is that we sense Goob has truly found his perfect match, while Staci was busy ticking something very special off her bucket list.

From a personal level, I finally stopped feeding a somewhat important parking meter, then reconnected with an old friend that had unexpectedly fed ours. My husband got a promotion at work... and as I celebrate my annual work anniversary, I am blessed wake up every morning and head to a job I truly love.

As the cottage warms to the glow as the farmers almanac I've torched, I am happy to share some of my memories. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then my memories of this unique and amazing summer must be worth at least a million.

It was Oscar Wilde that noted: "...and all at once, summer collapsed into fall."

Here. Here. Who's ready to start carving pumpkins?

Surprisingly, ME!

P IS FOR PARENTING

I read a quote somewhere that referenced parenting as the easiest thing in the world to have an opinion on, and the hardest thing you'll ever do. I couldn’t agree more.

When we discovered that we were going to have the stork stop by in the winter of 1990, we were shocked. Not because we didn’t know how babies were made but we had purchased a new home a year earlier and with mortgage interest being at 12.5%, our 5 year financial commitment was staggering.

The Fam-Jam rockin' Huckleberry Rock in Muskoka
TAKEN: OCTOBER 10th, 2016

When our first born arrived, he was the perfect baby. We didn’t have much money back then but he brought so much joy to us we decide we’d like the stork to visit again; this time, in 1992, he delivered two!

Like any family, we have taken a journey. Even all these years later, I can reflect on certain situations and still wish I would have done things differently. Then again, you know what they say about hindsight; it’s in the past and not the direction I am going.

Today, I look at them as young adults and hope every single day that we have given them some good tools to be both successful and personally happy. I remember being so sad when they all left for school, perhaps I was naive enough to think they would never return. They all have and at least once left again.

After this last stint of my eldest boy being our roommate again, we knew we wouldn't allow any of them to move back home. Not because we're upset with them but we really feel it's time they leave the homestead. Though we would never see them in dire straits, moving home again's no longer an option.

I have to admit, when we get together, I am always joking that should they insist on returning, I am getting a one bedroom apartment with no pull out sofa. Seriously, I should probably tell them that I'm really not joking.... I'm dead serious.

Ya gotta laugh about it!

ARRIVEDERCI 2016. WELCOME 2017.

Well, once again the old guy is getting ready to hand things over to that chubby little baby in a diaper. In a matter of hours, a massive amount of new year cheer will be consumed and as the clock strikes 12, people will gladly kiss & hug total strangers. Sounds like me on a random Friday night at the Griffin Pub... Luckily, it acceptable behaviour tonight.

Similar to most of you reading, I can honestly say that when I reflect on the last year, it's with a true sense of positivity and a feeling of personal pride. Exactly one year ago today, I set some specific goals that I've not only accomplished, I've exceeded. I may have worked a ton and a half but I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge that my inner drive was complimented by the need and delivery of four seasons of exceptional Muskoka weather. 

Barometric elation aside, I guess I am trying to relay that in a nutshell I had a really good year. So very grateful for so many things, yet there is only one place to start. Look at those kids. We're so very blessed. Truly thankful for them, as well as our good health. Nothing tops those two. Nothing will ever come close.

So grateful for a year full of wonderful memories. Thankful for so much.
TAKEN: Throughout 2016

The other side of my so very thankful for coin would have to be all the blatantly obvious things I need to simply let go of. I'm not sure if I ever shared this before but every year between Christmas and New Year Eve, I buy myself a new purse. Just like this electronic journal, my 'purse' tradition has grown with the same personal passion. 

You see, when I ring in the new year with a new purse, it's an official message that I can leave all the crap that followed me and weighed me down within the last year, exactly there. My new purse is only intended to carry fresh opportunities, new goals, and positive vibes. Tomorrow, my current purse stays exactly where it should: in 2016. 

Happy 2017 everyone. As we journey into our seventh year together, thanks to each and every one of you for reading. It is truly appreciated.

Godspeed ~Rhondi

WILL THIS GENERATION MANAGE?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now, where the hell is that glue!!

MY FOOD BANK OF THOUGHTS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Guess only time will tell on all fronts.

Thanks for reading.

A COUPLE MORE REASONS WHY

For the last number of months, I had been talking with a really fab co-worker about a milestone birthday she had approaching. Though I repeatedly tried to convince her that she was worthy of a kick ass destination celebration, she'd decided to take some time off and celebrate in a very low key fashion. 

Well, from her announcing that 'low key was she' mindset, every chance I got, I encouraged her to pack up her man and get on a plane.  Short story long, when they decided to bolt to Jamaica, I squealed with sheer delight.

A tad puzzled by my overzealous reaction, I explained my story that all of you regular readers are all too familiar with. That my mother died at the young age of 57, which has left me with a very deep (and somewhat distracting energy) to embrace adventure; which includes getting as many different stamps in my passport before I arrive at the age when she passed.

I don’t know what it is... but the thought or news of death rocks me to the core.

Trying to ensure my mother shared our day...
TAKEN: JUNE 1988

I’m not sure if it’s because I started experiencing death from a preteen age, or it's the long standing deep seeded feeling I have that I will die young. Either way, the last couple of days have affirmed what I've believed since my mother passed in 1987; life is short and be sure not to let it pass you by.

Why so reflective? In the matter of 24 hours, two young lives were lost in the small town which I live. One was the age of my eldest and the son of a friend I went to high school with, the other a business acquaintance that occupied my Sales & Marketing lane. One was somewhat expected due to illness, the other, my lane occupier, was a very sudden loss that has left a large part of our community in shock. 

As I began searching for a photo to accompany my post, my thoughts immediately shifted to my Mom. In turn, I rummaged though boxes, dusting off all of the proofs from my wedding day in 1988. Out of the blue I remembered asking the photographer to take pictures of me with the last photo I have of my mother before she became ill.

When I was done reminiscing over all of the proofs, I realized something. In almost 100% of the photos taken at the house, her picture is propped on the handmade coffee table my brother made, as well as her last Lazy Boy chair is in sight. I honestly never noticed that detail until tonight.

I can't believe it. Almost 30 years later, how amazing is that?

PS: I couldn't help but put the photo focus on my Mama.

Mom and Me with my Jr. Bridesmaid Joni.
TAKEN: JUNE 1988

HOW'S YOUR 2016 GOING?

Have you ever had one of those days where you'd ask yourself..."What's the date today?"

I have no idea where the time goes. I know it's been a couple of years since I've submitted a timesheet, yet, for it being only the 20th of January, it feels like the past three weeks have lasted three months. Not in the arduous sense of time passing, more... I've accomplished so much, how the hell can we only be three weeks in?

Ringing in 2016 with my Mama-in-law!
TAKEN: DECEMBER 31st, 2015

I had/have great hopes for 2016.

As you know, in 2015 I made some major life changes, both personally and professionally. To put things right on the table, I cleaned house. I honestly feel that sometimes we keep certain people in our lives for all the wrong reasons. Not that I'd have a friggin' clue... My shrink was a personal cost cutting measure that was endured when I quit my job in 2013!

Shrinkage jokes aside, all I'll say is that 2016 will be the first year of my life known for it's simplicity. Why? Because, believe it or not, for the first time in a lot of years, I have nothing to fix and nothing to prove.

Might sound like a nice word, simplicity, all wrapped up neatly with a big red bow. But for an over-achiever, that's a much bigger task to accomplish than it may read. Especially when your hardwired like a five and a half foot ball of yarn, determined to get everything untangled and quantify the reason for every silly knot. For me, simplicity is something I look forward to.

Anyway, generally too round to try yoga... for my 2016 Birthday I have officially booked a trip and decided to learn to surf. (Like those skills are going to take me far, or that I'll ever use again). I've also decided join a choir and to learn to really cook. Though I am A-OK on the singing front, to go to the next level, I could use some help in the kitchen. They offer lessons in town but that's not where I'll learn to hone my craft. I want to study in my Mama-in-laws' kitchen. She's an amazing cook, just ask my husband... and anyone else she's ever cooked for.

Truth? The fact that Ivy ensures the best tunes rock her kitchen when she's cookin', will only compliment our lessons, as well as my ability to learn. I wonder if she'd like to come to choir with me?

Guess I'll simply have to ask. Lord knows... She can sing circles around yours truly.

So, tell me....How is your 2016 going?

MY QUEST FOR CHRISTMAS

I had a great time Friday at our afternoon company luncheon, so I started my little bit of holiday shopping Friday night. Then, when I woke up yesterday morn, I opened up some very specific dialogue with my husband, that I feel the need to reiterate every single holiday season. “Please don’t buy me anything,” I said

We've never really exchanged gifts, yet I was sensing he was feeling obligated to put something under the tree for me. The truth of the matter is that it’s not a bah-humbug thing, I simply don’t need nor want anything. What I want, I have. If I don’t have it, it’s probably because I don’t want it.

As parents, we’ve never put a material emphasis on this time of year but our kids are human and tend to get wrapped up in idea of it all (no pun intended). As a result, I do what most do. I buy far too much wrapping paper and tape, then say that I'll save it until next year - which I never do!

Anyway, with all of us working until at least noon Christmas Eve, this past weekend was literally our last chance to get what shopping done that we needed to do. I have always shopped locally, so I knew there would be no big shopping mall crowds to tend with, just the challenge of hiding what was purchased... As the four of the five of us that were together, were totally guilty of last minute shopping.

The Corner Cabinet in Bracebridge ROCKS!
TAKEN: DECEMBER 19th, 2015 

That said, before I started shopping for my family yesterday morn, I had to hunt and find a very personal gift for a special someone in my life. 

I’ve known them professionally since 2008, yet none of my holiday shopping buddies know them personally. All they know, is what they’ve heard me share of them. 

When I explained my challenge, I was truly amazed how they all helped me in my quest for the perfect gift. Schlepping from store to store, in a blizzard no less. Not gonna lie, it made the perfect purchase that much more personal. Makes no matter that the person receiving our effort's the epitome of  'someone that has everything', I know they'll hug me with sincerity and appreciate the sentiment.

So, with my shopping done & Sirius cranked on the oldies Christmas tune station, I type. 

I am so pleased to report that the only gray in my life this season is the colour of my hair, yet I still feel the same way about Christmas that I always have.

Unless there's a trip around the world under the tree for me... Hold onto your cash!

MY BEAUTIFUL EXTENDED FAMILY

For all of my high school summers, I spent my weekdays in a rink and my weekends on an amazing lake with my parents. They occupied a neat stretch of waterfront, where I was lucky to be surrounded by cousins and family. To this day, I feel so very blessed how those aunts and uncles influenced my life; yet my post is even bigger than that.

Throughout my formative teen years, I was never allowed to date. So, with only a radio and/or a book to keep me company, I’d take the mini-bike up the road to visit my father’s sister, or made myself a fixture next door at my very favourite spot.

As I type, I am remembering how fun it was to spend time with the girls next door, yet the reality at hand was my cousins just simply got stuck with me. They were a smidgen older and far wiser to yours truly, so naturally my attachment to them was much stronger than their's to me. All these years later, I am still very grateful for their unconditional patience.

As we aged (and I matured) we all became very close friends. So much so, that I consider them sisters and not simply my cousins. One was in my wedding; and I cherish the other girls children as I do my own.

Truth of the matter is that I've always wished I was a part of their immediate family. Not because mine was any worse than any other teen train wreck that was coming through, my wish simply stemmed from the fact that their Mom was freaking bat-shit crazy cool!

The moral of my post is that one cousin I am closest to and her family are coming to Muskoka this weekend for a celebration. As I chatted with Nan's daughter this morning on Facebook, I went searching through my scanned photos to find an appropriate picture to share my good news as well as my excitement about their visit: this is what I found.

My MAN hugging my Nan. Oh, that's her Dad, my Uncle Vic in the back... Totally stealing the shot!
TAKEN: JUNE  1989

Taken at my cousin Tootsie’s wedding in June of 1989, it serves as official proof. Not just proof that my beautiful extended family still loves my husband more than me but that I believe timing is everything.

Just look at my Uncle Vic in the background (who passed in October of '99). In that specific moment, while watching our keen camaraderie, he totally photobombed us!.

As soon as I looked that the photo I knew it was perfect. With them arriving tomorrow night, it gives them all a little reminder that he too will be watching over us for his great-grandson Noah's weekend celebration.

Happy Birthday sweet Noah.We'll see you all tomorrow. 

Let the fun begin!!

MY FUZZY SOCKS THAT ROCK!

I don’t know about you but last night I was up until almost midnight because of the icky sticky humidity. I’m not complaining, probably because I woke up well rested and ready to start my day.

Anyway, after a quick early morning shower, I wandered downstairs and settled at my desk. It's hard to believe that at 6am (probably because my home office is slightly below grade & due to the humidex) my tootsies needed to be bundled up. No if, ands, or buts about it, I immediately knew it was a four alarm ‘fuzzy socks’ kinda morn.

TIM's FUZZY SOCKS ROCK!
TAKEN: JUNE 16th, 2015

My point?

When decluttering the house last weekend, I came across a gift that was presented to me by a very cherished friend at the cottage last Boxing Day. I had brought his gift home for safe keeping New Years Day but it seems my safe keeping spot was so safe, I didn’t discover them until last Saturday. You can’t imagine my excitement when I announced to my husband "...I found Tim’s fuzzy socks that ROCK!!”

I’m sure most women would have preferred a poinsettia or a nice bottle of wine to celebrate the season but not this cat, and certainly not from the fella that knows first and foremost how I love hand knit fuzzy wool socks. You see, he and I have known each other since I entered high school and all these years later have never really ever lost touch.

Actually, even though we live a couple of miles apart, we've become the very best electronic friends. The only time we chat on the phone is if something gets lost in translation via text and we need to debate the points validity. I find it refreshing and truly appreciate that we can communicate so openly about anything and everything. What can I say, he's definitely a keeper.

As June rolls into July I guess I just wanted to let him know how much I loved my gift: they're perfect. Yup, my fuzzy socks rock. Just like our very long standing friendship.

Thanks again Bud!

L IS FOR LOST

My word choice today is about how I am feeling, not about a misplaced possession.

You see, last night I got a message asking me to call the Son in Law of our cottage neighbour in the City. Instantly, my heart dropped. I was home alone, so I replied that my husband would call when he returned from running his errand. Half an hour later, my biggest fear came to fruition. Our much loved neighbour Lois, had passed.

When we bought our cottage, not only had we been blessed with our own perfect little haven, we'd inherited the most amazing neighbours. As a young couple new to cottaging, Ken & Lois helped us any way they could. They were the brains of cottage life, and we were the brawn. (Meaning...They could fix anything, and we could pack up and carry anything.) In hindsight. it was a match made in heaven.

Rest In Peace Lois.... You'll be with us forever.
TAKEN: JUNE 2013

Though we lost Ken in 2011, we were still cheerfully blessed each summer with Lois’ company. She remained as spry as ever, and swan everyday no matter how cold the water was. I am going to miss her swimming over, climbing our dock ladder, and enjoying a whirl down our slide. Not only am I going to miss her company, I'm going to miss her very sincere smile. 

I suppose I chose this particular photo, because from now on, every time the sun peeks through the trees, I’ll instantly think of her watching over us.

Rest in Peace Lois; be sure to give Ken a hug and a kiss for me. 

We love & miss you both very much.

H IS FOR HUBBY

My husband and I have been together since we were 21 years old. For those of you that don’t know me personally, I’m not turning 29 this week, which means that he and I have spent more of our lives together than apart. To paint an even more detailed picture, we've known each other since being in the same Grade 1 class in Public School.

When I returned home in the mid '80's to care for my mother in an in home Hospice situation, we began dating. From our very first date he made me laugh. Even yesterday by the pool, I could hear him entertaining other Canadians while I quietly read my book. He’s really quite shy but like most, once he becomes comfortable with you, he’s extremely outgoing and the introversion disappears.

Struggling with my internet connection here yesterday, I had to go to the lobby to post my letter G.  For whatever reason my text wouldn't upload, so the only thing that appeared was my picture. After about an hour, he came to fetch me and walk me back to the pool.

When we arrived at my chaise, I was panicked. I anxiously told him that I had left my sunglasses on the desk in the Club lounge. He totally hopped on board with helping me figure out what we should do. Was I going to go back? Did I need him to come with me? After what felt like a couple of minutes, he stopped talking and simply smiled and pointed at me. 

What? What? What? He was confusing me. Were my boobs hanging out? Did I have a booger on my face? I was at a loss by his gesture.

MY HUBBY
TAKEN: APRIL 6th, 2015

Then, with no emotion what so ever he said “Rhondi, they’re on your face!”

Followed by: “It's only fair you post your own stupidity to your Blog there Baby!!”

So here you have it.

Let’s face it, after all these years there’s one thing neither can ever deny….

Turnabout is  most definitely fair play.

… HE SENT DIMES FROM HEAVEN

When we purchased our first home in December of 1988 we were ecstatic. It was three houses up from my Dad on the opposite side of very street I grew up on. We knew nothing about home ownership and had no idea that the math of the investment would have Kraft Dinner and tomato soup be our most cost effective grocery staples (both of which my husband refuses to eat to this day) for a very long time .

Times were definitely tough. To increase that hardship, I unexpectedly got pregnant. I remember the day the rabbit died. I also remember telling our next door neighbours before telling my husband. That very moment came flooding back to me a couple of weeks ago, as I stood in the exact spot in their backyard.

It was actually Poppa Peter's Birthday... But he let Jukebox believe the Party was really for him!
Taken: August: 1992

Nana Anne, Poppa Peter & Auntie Andrea have been in my children’s lives since the moment they were born. They've unconditionally loved all of us and us them. Poppa Peter passed from complications to diabetes seven years ago this month and Nana Anne unexpectedly left us this past summer. That unexpected (very heartbreaking) event has Auntie Andrea & I as close as ever.

A couple of weeks ago, Andrea and I got chatting on a Friday night and she told me a story. After her father's funeral, her sister needed to have had a chat with him and asked him to send her a sign. “Don’t send me pennies from heaven Dad” she asked a loud, “...I wanna see at least dimes!”

From that moment on, dimes began to appear in the strangest places. Since his death, the most poignant spot had to be the morning Nana Anne passed. The pets were on the bed with her, and there was a dime on the floor beside her. 

Do you want to know what's even more amazing? Because 911 was called, the Police arrived before Andrea. She continued to tell me that she'd never sat in Poppa Peter’s chair since he’d passed. Well, unbeknownst to the Police, they cleared the chair off in preparation of her arrival. When she went into shock, that is where she was placed.... Into her father's chair

When I was over to the house that following Saturday & Sunday after our chat... Jacquie, Andrea, and I, lovingly reminisced about them both. As we worked (moving, sorting and loading a trailer for landfill) we talked of the dimes that were being sent from heaven.

When the guys picked up Poppa Peter's chair (the very chair the Police sat Andrea in) there was a dime sitting underneath in full view. What a moment. You know what the dime beside the bed and under the chair signify to me?

Nana Anne wasn't meant to take her journey to heaven alone. I'd like to believe that he came to greet her. Once she passed, he wanted to reassure Andrea that he was there for her too.

I don't know about you... but I'll never look at a dime the same way again.

Rest in Peace Anne and Peter. We will always love and miss you both very much. 

I LOVE Labour Day Weekend..

Well, it’s the last long weekend of the summer that never officially arrived. For various reasons, this one in particular, has produced some of the most long standing memories to date.

In the early cottage days, it was the weekend that we started hauling items up the hill. We didn't have stairs for the first six summers but we did have slave labour. I mean energetic children that did what they were told. As the years progressed, they caught on and rebelled. Trekking items up over the entire weekend inevitably prevented the angst, emotion, and volume of, “MOM…. NO FAIR… All she’s carrying is an empty water jug!”

This weekend doesn't only make me think of cottage life. It reminds me of indoor shoes, outdoor shoes, back packs, and the pain of adjustment at home the following week. Tweens adjusting to making (and not missing) the school bus at the bottom of the hill. Then, there was High School, and the cash drain of twelve hundred bucks a year for uniforms. BIG bucks for clothes they loathed wearing each and every single day they had to put them on. 

Good Times… Good Times.

Smiling, none of those are the one moment I deem most memorable. It would be a private moment Labour Day Monday of 2012.  I had lived at the cottage for the summer and the Post Secondary journey was finally complete. I remember my husband and I enjoyed a great day. By mid-afternoon, I finally said what I’d been thinking all weekend long, “we made it” I said. “No rent cheques to write. No more books to buy. We made it!”

Memories of a really GREAT Labour Day Monday.
Taken: September 3rd, 2012

It was in that very moment that be both realized it was a new beginning for us. Actually, in going back through my photos today, I found the one I’m posting. 

The fact that I picked up my cell phone and snapped a picture of my husband’s glass of red wine is significant. I'm positive it was to remind me that the kids were grown and gone and the next lag of this long journey was ours to define.

The hard part for both us, had been transitioning from being parents to being a friend and solid support system for them. Two years later (this weekend), we readily admit, that we had to do those things as a couple as well. 

So, I guess in some ways, this weekend not only commemorates Labour Day, it's an anniversary for us as well. Wonder what he'll get me as a gift? Who the hell am I kidding. He's gonna forget! 

Bet he'll tell me it's my fault. For failing to remind him! Ya Gotta Laugh About It...!!

Have a great weekend Peeps. Stay safe, have fun, and ensure you're always SMILING.

Weddings That Were Meant To Be

Last fall, when I was booking our winter holiday, I was asked if I wanted to pay for cancellation insurance. I immediately said no. I’d already upgraded and had the ability to transfer the holiday within 24 hours of departure, so I figured that would suffice. I remember telling Shelly at the time “…the only way we aren’t going is if one of us is dead.” Then continued, “…should that be the case, after the funeral, I’ll gladly pay again!”

As expected, laughter ensued.

I've always been quite open in the comment that I’d never marry again. Not because I’m unhappily married but because after almost thirty years with the same person I don’t know how I would even begin to process cohabitating with anyone else. Then, when I reflect at what I've witnessed in the last two week, I will officially never say never. 

Just Married
Taken: July 25th, 2014

A little over a week ago my mother in law remarried. Not only did she marry a man she’s known since high school, in a small very private ceremony, she married the love of her life. It was beautiful. So intimate. Perfect!

Then, this past weekend I went to home for my cousins wedding. They too had dated in high school and all these years later found their way back to one and other. 

After the ceremony, the bride showed my cousins and I a small circular charm that read “Sweet 16” (which I presume she'd worn as her something old).

Their granddaughter was flower girl
Taken: August 2nd, 2014

She proceeded to tell us that at one point in her life (long estranged from my cousin) her apartment had been robbed. 

When the Police had gone through the dumpster at the rear of the building, the only piece of jewelry they recovered was the charm Denny had given her in high school. All these years later, she still had it, and she was wearing it on her wedding day, to him. 

She deemed Saturday the happiest day of her life.

As I looked around last weekend I smiled as I spied my family and their spouses. Some married less than a year and some married over fifty years. As we sat at dinner, the girls on the one side of the table and our spouses on the other, there was constant banter about the spoils of marriage. I guess my husband said it best when he finally announced to everyone within earshot…  “Take my wife… Pleeeeeeze!” 

Though he garnered a round of applause, he still brought me home. Once again, proving he'd drawn the short straw. I really do feel kinda sorry for the poor lad.

Thirty years later... He STILL can’t catch a break!

My Mom....

Happy Mother's Day Mummy.... I miss you very much.
Taken: July 1947

This is my Mom. 

If you haven’t met her via a previous post, allow me to introduce you to my mother Inez.

She was 17 years old when this photo was taken and the only one I own that was taken before she was married.

Though I have very few pictures of her, that doesn't mean that all of my  life long memories aren't vivid, colourful, and still very much alive.

She was a fighter.

She won most every battle she set her mind to, but sadly, she eventually lost the war. She passed in 1987 of ALS (more commonly known to the masses as Lou Gehrig's Disease).

Any sadness in my reflection aside, I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge that today is OUR day. The one & only that is dedicated especially to the both of us for a job well done.

Happy Mother's Day Mummy...

I love and miss you very much.

U IS FOR UNIQUE

That's  a buffalo behind me... NOT a horse's ass.
TAKEN P.A. SASKATCHEWAN:  JULY 1971

Simple question: what makes someone unique? 

Do you label the one person wearing red, when everyone else is wearing blue, unique? 

Have you given them such a label because of how they made you feel? Or, is it simply because you'd heard a friend of a friend call them that and you’re conforming? 

Seriously, I'm curious.

From a very young age I knew that I was different than others my age. I understood then, that my life at home was much more unique than most, so I guess I've always compartmentalized why my personality evolved the way it did.

I truly believed (at that time) that it was because my parents were so much older than I. Yet, all these years later, I believe that I am simply me, because I was born with a creative soul.

What can I say? Feel free to rib, label, roll your eyes and look at me anyway you see fit.

Because... Damn it... I AM UNIQUE....

Just like every other interesting person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting!

CHEERS :)