K IS FOR KNACK

When I returned to work last Monday and was asked about my birthday trip to Las Vegas, I gave a one-word answer: Meh.  (You could also insert a sarcastic shoulder shrug in there for visual effect.)

My underwhelming response was followed by an immediate, "I’ve been to much nicer places, and had far better experiences." 

Reaffirming our thought process which was, "It's VEGAS baby... You've got to go at least once just to see it!"

That said, I did enjoy the varying levels of architecture and attention to construction detail in the grand casinos on the strip, but my solstice of trying to enjoy those few moments was interrupted by the ‘ding-ding-ding’ of the slot machines that were situated absolutely everywhere.

Neither my husband or I have the desire nor ever developed the skill for gambling. We are both smart enough to know that’s it not there for you to win.

I lost everything and my husband did not.
Here's the photographic proof!
TAKEN: APRIL 7th, 2023

My only attempt at the jackpot was a five-dollar bill in a slot machine in the Bellagio. I did get my investment up to $12.95 in winnings and should have cashed out. Instead, I kept pushing the button, rolling the odds, until it was all gone. The entire entertainment experience lasted less than ten minutes!

My husband tried his luck while we waited for our table at Tony Roma’s in the Golden Nugget. His investment was in the three singles he had in his pocket and his chit shows where he landed.

To which I immediately told him, ‘I thought he may have developed a gambling addiction and may want to seek out help’. We both burst into laughter and headed into the restaurant.

On a scale from one to ten, the moral of this post is... Our knack for gambling, negative two. Our knack for investing in great running shoes,  positive twelve. We walked and walked and walked. 

Thanks goodness there wasn't a charge for that. After all, we lost a whopping $7.83 USD gambling.

Which is like $117.45 CDN these days!

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!

SUNDAY STORM DAY

I worked to get my weekend cottage chores done yesterday so that today could be an official day of rest. Well, that idea tanked quicker this morning than Donald Trump touting hydroxychloroquine as a cure for Coronavirus!

Meaning, my ‘no sun Sunday’ has the radio blaring and phone beeping with official tornado warnings, which in turn has me hunkered down inside with Spotify blaring, sipping a spicy Caesar, embracing a shitty Sunday storm day.

When given lemons? Make a Caesar and listen to Spotify!
TAKEN: JULY 19th, 2020

As my Bose speaker begins to play Kacey Musgraves and her song titled Rainbow starts; it seems eerily fitting.

“When it rains it pours,” is how the song begins. My struggle is that it feels like it has been raining for five friggin’ months, only in the non-precipitation sense.

Like most, I have struggled with this atmosphere I will officially label here as The Covid Climate.

I no longer watch the news, refuse to click on anything associated with the orange man, and find myself distancing myself from 90% of all social media. Lately, the only place I find any sense of normalcy is via Instagram. 

Probably because it’s hard to go wrong with pictures of the Muskoka landscape and Georgian Bay sunsets, as well as really cute pups. For the record, touting some serious cucumber envy, I also feel vegetable and flower gardens deserve an honorable shout out; way to go all you gardeners!

Anyway, if you dial your blog memory back, you’ll recall that people told me to stop being an alarmist when the virus first loomed.  Since then, so many have reached out to me via personal message sharing that they felt they too had been so sick. 

More worrisome is that most admitted they never shared being ill, purely because of the judgement of others that tended to follow; seeing as everything happening around us was fake.

I don’t know about you, but I have no idea how I managed to be graced and associated with so many scientists and immunology experts lately. Must be because Facebook University wasn’t an option for me in the mid 1980’s.

Who knew the first half of 2020 would produce such an elite number of scientific scholars?  Certainly not this cat. Well done Mr. Zuckerberg, for officially replacing both ethics and journalism worldwide with a meme.

With my sarcastic rant exhausted,  I know for a fact I am going to survive my 'no sun day' as well as the rest of this pandemic nonsense. 

How? Just ask my buddy Kacey, she knows. She tells me… That there has always be a rainbow hanging over my head!

Which has to be better than an Wile E. Coyote approved ACME anvil, right?

PS: If you haven’t heard the song, here’s a link, (Click here)

PSS: You’re welcome. She's awesome.

V IS FOR VARIANT

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.)

L IS FOR LAUGHTER

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.)

B IS FOR BROADWAY

♫♪♫ Hello... My name is Edler Price! ♪♫♪
Headed to see the Book of Mormon on at the Eugene O'Neill Theatre on Broadway this month.
As I say... I love to laugh at anyone's expense, including my own.

DIAMOND DOG-GONE

In the deep winter of 2017, my yellow lab Puddin’ got the lead from her run tangled on one of the coldest nights in February. As always, I pulled her back in, this time realizing the majority of her 25 metre lead was still stuck in the frozen snowbank. Already frustrated, I became determine to finish the job.

After several forceful attempts freeing it, I backed up, dug in (yelled a really loud expletive) then with all my muscle heaved on that sucker with everything I had.

What happened next felt like I was in a cartoon. My force broke the leash from the ice, then and the slack came zipping my way with a serious zing. I began falling backward the more it let go.

Standing on a small landing at the top of the stairs, I started to lose my balance, realizing I was going to fall down the stairs. In slow motion, I felt my body gracefully tuck and roll, as I absorbed those six oak stairs.

Never letting go of the dog lead, the most damage done was when the large metal collar clasp bore all my weight between my middle and ring finger as it passed through with force. To this day, though never diagnosed, I believe I broke my left ring finger knuckle.

Here’s where my story enters into a 'this could only happen to Rhondi' zone.

(Left) A neat shot of us on the lake and the size of the diamond my dog ate!
TAKEN: SEPTEMBER 2013
(Right) Post event picture. My bad for letting the dog treat juice under my gem!!
TAKEN: MAY 2018

Once my hand/finger healed, it became clear I was unable to remove my wedding ring set. Not a big deal, I figured my finger would eventually fully mend yet it never did. My circulation was fine, so I paid no attention; until a fateful day this past May.

I arrived home on a Friday night to greet my pups, when my Annie reaches up to gently tug at my fingers to throw her a stick. In the process, one of (what I believe to be) her incisors got underneath the setting of my half carat diamond solitaire, and in a nano-second it was gone.

I combed the grass for what felt like hours incase it had popped out of her mouth. I went back out the following couple of nights with a flashlight in hopes of seeing a sparkle. I even followed her around with a baggie for a week in hopes it landed where her lunch did: nothing.

Short story VERY long, I came to terms with the fact the diamond was gone forever, and cut off my engagement ring. I did however, leave the wedding band, with the hopes that after more than 30 years it could be salvaged.

Well, tonight I went back into the jewelry store and also had it cut off. As expected, it was an emotional end of an era, but at the end of the day we’d had a good ride.  I told the ladies that once I understood the underlying issues with my damaged knuckle, I’d be back to purchase another ring.

I told them that I’ve already decided on one ring with three diamonds. Primarily to pay homage to my life spent raising my three children, as well as my years with my three pups.

The one 'must have' I guarantee when I buy my new ring?

... A diamond flavour dogs DON'T love!

RISE AND SHINE AND SHE'S GONE

Yesterday was one of those forecasted rainy days that I'd been looking forward to all week. Got my indoor cottage chores done, got my in town shopping chores done, then headed to the salon and had my hair chopped off. Hold your gasps of disbelief, it's not like I ordered a number 3 razor buzz cut. Yet, my long curls that flowed to the middle of my back, are now the shortest they've been since 2012. No regrets here. I'm glad I did it. Just like in other areas of yours truly, I was in need of change.

At this stage in my life, I consider myself blessed. I knock wood because nothing is neither tragic, nor conflicted; though I will admit that some thing's been bothering me for an extended period of time. It was never a great big boulder in front of me, more an annoying pebble in my shoe. For whatever reason, I'd buried that annoyance deep, as well as any ability to deal with it. As part of this next wave of change, I am pleased to report that the pebble has been dealt with .

Like every single person that is reading this electronic journal entry, I have some very serious crap that is buried deep. It's taken me a long time to compartmentalize specifics (which is code for defining a personal coping mechanism) but it works for me. My epiphany was when I recently realized, that over the last 30 years, 25 of mine have been about seeking light at the end of the tunnel, and the last 5 of mine have been the real journey. Those were the years that have been spent learning how to embrace the light that has been chased so hard and earned.

Out of clutter, find simplicity. ~ Albert Einstein
TAKEN: SEPTEMBER 11th, 2016

Speaking of light... I woke in the dark this morning, grabbed my robe and slippers, then headed outside to watch the sun rise. Bundled up, I went up from the dock, grabbed my camera, then snapped my photo at 7:08am. With my moment captured, I finished my coffee, packed everything up, and moved everything home for the season. Not gonna lie, it feels different this year, and finding the words to describe are hard.

If I had to find one word, if I had to choose only one?

I guess I'd just simply define it as... peace.

Q IS FOR QUAGMIRE

Quag·mire 

Pronounced kwaɡˌmī(ə)r/noun

a. an awkward, complex, or hazardous situation. "a legal quagmire"

synonyms: muddle, mix-up, mess, predicament, mare's nest, can of worms, quandary, tangle, imbroglio; trouble, confusion, difficulty; informal sticky situation, pickle, stew, dilemma, fix, bind "a judicial quagmire"

YA GOTTA LAUGH ABOUT IT

DO YA WANNA MOW MY LAWN?

HELP WANTED: Ball cleats provided to the successful candidate
TAKEN: AUGUST 2012

I am dead serious...

I’m my confident my husband won’t mind my asking the question. Frankly because it’ll save him feeling guilty for not taking care of the task himself.

I’m not kidding.

Just look at the friggin’ task at hand. For what it's worth, more than one mountain goat's admitted to TMZ they've found the task very intimidating, and that footage has gone viral!

As you know, yard work has always been my lane. I am admitting today that I’ve always struggled with tending the yard at the cottage. Going even further out on a limb, it's probably because the only flat piece of land we own (aside from the driveway at the top of the hill) is a 45 x 25 ft patch off the kitchen; everything else is literally on a 45 degree angle.

Early on, when tackling the task,  I did tumble down the hill into the lake. Though my ego was bruised worse than my body, I am pleased to report that when I landed in the water on my ass that the whipper sniper remained high in hand locked over my head and safe from harms way.

One to focus on solutions rather than any problem, from that very day on, I never started the arduous task without stuffing the ends of size 11 steel baseball cleats which guaranteed my perfect traction.

Though I finished the task at hand this afternoon,  inbox me if you'd like to offer your services next time around.

Ball cleats and mountain goat bragging rights will automatically be included!

T IS FOR TREAT

I’m not talking about my personal 12 Step Chocolate Program (the one where I'm never less than twelve steps away from a chocolate treat) I am taking about how spoiled my dogs are. Right or wrong, I've always given our four legged furry children people food treats.

Growing up, I had the pleasure of watching my Auntie Cai and her pack of pups. They literally shadowed her every movement 99% of the the time. As a tween, I use to stand in her kitchen at Camp, watching her strategically prepare their meals. It was definitely a site to behold.

I GOTTA TELL YA...
These girls know how to exercise restraint much better than MOI...!
TAKEN: MARCH 9th, 2013

Just as she did, I now do the very same thing.

Most teach their dogs to fetch and sit, I've taught mine the specific meals of the day, not to mention the name of all the treats that need to be refrigerated!

The human rule sets precedence here right?

You know the one, that anything in moderation makes any guilty pleasure acceptable? WHEW... Miss Vickie's just about lost a loyal a sea salt & vinegar customer!

Joking aside, no matter what stage of your life you're in, there will always be people that disagree with whatever personal choices you make. Truth is, you can't please all of the people all of the time. Which is the complete opposite to the fact that I've never met a single pup that didn't love one of the many treats I was dishing out.

Hmmm... Maybe I should start a human 12 Step Chocolate Treat Program. Don't laugh, it totally worked for Sheldon (with Penny) on Big Bang Theory.

OMG... Now I'm such a 'Poser'...!

Go ahead. Google both the episode and the funky italicized word ... I know you want to. :)

N IS FOR NAUGHTY

How do you know your wife is dead? The sex is the same… but the dishes start to pile up!

All I can say is, it’s a good thing I have my dishwasher on a timer. My husband does them at the same time every night, so he won’t notice I’m gone for months! ….Ba-Dumb-Bum!

Seriously? I love to laugh and there's usually naughty sarcasm attached just for fun.

There's a small handful of people I've met that can keep up with my warped pace. So, it's not very often I'm caught off guard. Truth is, my husband has always been my best sparring partner.

A while back he landed home in good spirits and decided to make an announcement... “Honey… Guess what I want tonight?”

Preoccupied, I rolled my eyes and asked ..."What?”

“I want some BUSCH...!" 

In that exact moment, he held up a six pack of American beer over his head and we both roared with laughter. Just like that, I was instantly pummeled into naughty thought submission. What can I say, there really is nothing better than laughter, to ease my mind...

Well, there is,  but I never registered for adult content, so we'll just leave it at that!

Just Always Find A Way...

Make me laugh and we're golden.

Yesterday my very favourite client called to pick my brain; “I know it’ll only take me 45 seconds” he said, “but I value your opinion just the same”.  Laughing, I asked what he needed.

He’s a very successful downtown Toronto lawyer with a great place in Beaumaris. My other important notable? He could very well be Canada's Worst Handyman. 

Seriously, if I had a dime for every time he said "I could do the work myself but..." I would single handedly be able to pay his very expensive land tax bill!

Anyway, for the third summer in a row we’re doing work at his place. Low and behold, he called because he wants to do a renovation to his pool area. After talking about his options, we both agreed on what would look and work best.

So, after ten minutes of sarcastic banter, he finally confessed that he doesn’t really need the name of a contractor per say, he needs a favour. Kind of a “who can you have at my place to meet me this Saturday?” I agreed to call in a marker on one condition. I would make the call but stipulated  "he's my friend... so whatever you do... DON'T cheap him down!" I did use an ethic reference but you catch my drift.

All joking aside, I am so glad that I could help Dave by just picking up the phone. Glass half full? That Grant unconditionally offered to help me help Dave no questions asked.

Could it be that my energy feeds the brightness the others offer me?

I most certainly hope so... I really do most certainly hope so!

L Is For... LAUGHTER

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. 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 13th, 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!

Does Anyone Else Have "Friend" Lanes?

I have been melancholy for a few weeks now. A little under the weather but never felt the need to discuss it because I figured it would pass. I’m not depressed or blue, just perhaps a tad disappointed. Looking closely at all of my lanes, there are only two people in my entire life that know exactly what the hell I mean.

Am I alone, or have any of you ever had “Friend" lanes? You know; friends that you slot into specific lanes so they never venture into certain areas of the rest of your life? 

Someone needs you to make them feel better, so you never share negativity. Someone you know have a similar marriage, so you share recipes. Someone's in the same line of work, so you always talk shop. All of the above are valuable friendships to me, they just tend to never become unconditional on every single level.

Right or wrong, when it comes to that area of my life, I’ve always held certain cards very close to my chest. In fact, the person I feel everyone knows, see me as rather one dimensional and genuinely  predicable. Very few truly know me. That’s just a fact.

I had a really great day. How about you?

My point? Today I did something kinda brave. I wasn't using cymbals or anything but it was brave just the same. 

Unexpectedly, a friend properly signaled asking permission to change their 'friend lane' & I let them.

I trust this person implicitly but we've always just shared the type of friendship that simply enjoyed the others sense of sarcasm and fun. You know the lane; they see all the good and never the bad. They get the laughter, the humour, the camaraderie  but never a single moment of bitching or negativity. 

To their credit; they'd been sensing something was wrong for quite a while, and today they finally opened our door. “Why were you upset?” they asked. After I refrained from answering they said “It's no big deal. Shit happens. Spill the beans. It can’t be a that bad…” Just like that they reached out;  I was not only shocked, I was touched.

Though we talked of many things out of the norm today, I never did share my true disappointment with them. Why? It's been my personal experience that if you dwell on something that's disappointing you, it just hangs around longer than you want it to. Kinda like an expensive ill fitting bra or an extremely bad hair colour episode.

That said, I am so glad I was brave today. I didn’t have to run as hard as I could in the opposite direction as my picture suggests; I just simply closed the book at my page marked “disappointment” and opened up YouTube.

My first search? Cymbal playing penguins and sleeping Polar Bears.

Because life is very short, and you can never get your proper fill of cymbal playing penguins :)

...EVER! 

Who Knew? Zack Knew That's Who!

Let me start by clarifying something very important. That fifteen years ago I would have never anticipated this happening but I have evolved into a very structured person.

I honestly wish that I was still spontaneous but I am not. I use to be; matter a fact I have witnesses to those very fun times. I guess it just seems as I have gotten older, I have folded like a lawn chair.

That said, I had a really great day.

Not because I was expecting a "bad day" I just expected a “same shit, different day Monday in January in Muskoka" is all. As I sit here this evening, I am pleased to report that my day was anything but boring. It was genuinely pretty amazing.

Not only did I get to chat with my two favourite phone friends (they know who they are) but I spent my lunch hour with one of my very closest friends. NO, Smartie didn’t fly in from Whitehorse for lunch but this was a close second.

Zack Smith and I have been friends for what feels like forever. We both have a mutual love of golf and we are very like minded; our spouses are very similar in nature, our children are the same ages, so naturally it's a great friendship fit. Only problem? Not a single one of us is spontaneous!

I should mention that as a couple they've been front of mind this past weekend. They just lost their five year old purebred dog to leukemia last Friday; and just like Tony and I, their dogs have aided in the coping with their empty nest.

Then, out of the blue, he text me this morn and invited me for lunch. It’s not that a lunch invite is abnormal for me but in all this time that has never happened. Honestly? I almost said no; because let's face it, I'd brought my Monday leftover lunch to work. Staring at my phone, I realized that something must be amiss for him to unexpectedly invite me to lunch. Simply because he's far more structured than I'll ever be.

Spontaneity aside, I can`t help but wonder if my lunch invite came because he knows we have always had the ability to make each other laugh. True to form; for an entire lunch hour we were in the total comfort of our friendship. We laughed and laughed and laughed. 

I love to laugh. I need to laugh. How cool was our spontaneous euphoria? VERY! Hope we do it again soon. I wonder if he'll give me more notice next time?

See Ya Next Summer Smartie!

Let me start by saying Whitehorse, YT is 5,675 kilometers away from me, proving what I know to be true,  distance is not for the fearful. Let's face it; distance means so little when a person means so much. Here goes...

A very quiet and relaxing Friday night led to an early morning rise. After coffee Saturday, Brian text letting me know he had hoped his meetings would end by mid-afternoon. Just like that my Saturday was solidified and my 'quest for a really great dress' was on.

The good news? The shopping was amazing. Bad news was I didn’t find a dress. The really bad news was when I hooked up with Brian after his meetings he refused to continue shopping. “I didn’t come all this way to hold your purse and yell at people within earshot 'I’m not paying for that’…!” We headed out on foot and agreed that shopping was not an option.

The Hilton Hotel Downtown
"Aren't you glad you called in sick the
day they were shooting The Godfather?"

With our 'no shopping rule' in place we walked through Dundas Square and trekked farther up Yonge Street. We then turned around and headed all the way down to The Esplanade for a really nice dinner. We walked back to Nathan Phillips Square; enjoyed the fake snow being produced for The Cavalcade of Lights, then made our way across to the Scotiabank Theatre. Because Brian refused to expend his energy bowling, he conceded and let me browse one of my very favourite stores (Chapters on Queen Street). Tired, we decided to walk back without seeing a movie. 

With our arms locked in comfort, our laughter filled the air. I can’t believe the natural chemistry this friendship has enjoyed for over 20 years.

As our night ended we hugged, he kissed me on the cheek, and I told him I loved him. As he hailed me a cab, I headed back to my hotel. All I could do was smile and remind myself that July will be here before we know it.I can tell myself that all I want but I miss him already.

Oh, just so you know, I did find a dress on Sunday. A very elegant, very sexy, purple lace ditty that I know he would absolutely love. Not because he looks at me like that but because at the end of the day he didn't have to pay for it!

Cheers my friend...

If You Build It They Will Come... & Cluck!

True to form, I am seriously bagged. I'm pooched, whacked, bushed, and all and all just deadbeat wrecked but it was totally worth it. I had a great day yesterday and finally packed it in around one o’clock this morning.

Yesterday had been tentatively planned and cancelled six times this year. But you know what they say? Lucky number seven! I worked yesterday; grabbed my much needed Chiropractic treatment, then headed into the light, I mean hen house.

Colleen, Annie & Me. The original HENS

What started almost five years ago with a couple of girlfriends has really turned into an amazing sisterhood. 

We ARE the Hens! 

Some I see regularly, some I stay in touch with via Facebook, and some I only see in the hen house. We land, we catch up, we eat, we roll. We sing, we dance and we crash, precisely in that order. 

The food and fun was to die for but it’s always the laughter, insightful conversation and camaraderie that makes it so meaningful. Like any great event, you have to have a highlight reel. That's right, before we make new memories we have to discuss and howl with laughter at the memories we already have. I’m sure next year the heated discussion at dinner about my specific lingerie choices (and the laughter that ensued) will be right up there; Shades of Grey and whatever happened to my Friday caller will be numbers two and three.

As the evening progressed, it got loud quickly. The best part about how big our group was this year? Our singing really sounded remarkable considering our blood alcohol levels. Who knew every single one of us, knew every single word to BTO’s Taking Care of Business. And that veteran Hen Stephanie, had a photographic memory for song lyrics. Man can she sing Led Zeppelin! Bazzzinga Henfriend!

All and all, this year we hit an out of the park home run. When it comes to this crew, there will never EVER be a dull moment. That right there makes the breathing through my eyelids today totally worthwhile.