REMEMBERING 2020

 Most Significant Moment: The arrival and living with COVID-19. 

Everything from the toilet paper crisis (the centre pic was my rare cottage find when there was none left within the Province of Ontario), to the end of Donald Trump as the President of the United States. 

I feel 2020 was the year of solitude; served with a side dish of hatred and divide!

TAKEN: Throughout 2020

January: I participated in a five weekend advanced digital marketing (in-class course) in downtown Toronto. An amazing and eye opening experience!

February: Jukebox and his band headlined a local event that was sold-out and attended by all, including my bestie @veronekak.

March: Our entire community rallied around our childhood friend as he battled a very debilitating illness. This event, held Saturday March 7th, 2020, was the last time I was out socially before the initial pandemic lockdown took effect.

April: The unexpected and very premature passing of my husbands step father from ALS. Rest in peace Ivy!

May: No longer able to live normally because of Covid-19, we moved full time to the cottage.

June: We planted and enjoyed tending to our very first cottage vegetable garden. (We have serious plans for expansion in 2021.)

July: We gave Stella, our floating picnic table, a serious facelift and added a trolling motor for speed. She became the talk of the lake.

August: My Sweetie and her sweetie. I captured this Kodak moment the first time JMrex visited the cottage to meet us.

September: I took a step back and made a plan to move forward!!

October: Our tiny bubble enjoyed a Thanksgiving pumpkin carving event. This was also the evening my husband suffered his life altering health issues.

November: The look of the last eight months as we prepare to hunker back in to yet another lockdown.

December: Totally locked back down and hoping this one word is what we all get to experience in 2021.

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

DINING AL FRESCO

In the midst of purchasing our current home, the lawyer called the day it was to close to let us know that the old shed in the backyard was encroaching on the neighbouring lot line. His professional opinion was that we should make the sellers move it. 

Being the superstar handyman my husband naturally boasts being, he instructed the deal to close announcing that he would gladly relocate the shed. Pictured in the photo background, I don’t think he’s opened the door since he moved our crap into it and that was almost twenty years ago!

Anyway, when my father stayed with us in his end of life hospice care the winter of 2005, he was quick to establish friendships with the local fauna including these photogenic furry tailed bandits. 

During his last housebound winter, he introduced an outdoor dining experience like no other - and by the time he left us that June, his newly established extended family understood what a glorious food source this happy go lucky chap turned out to be.

One of my many generations of  friends born the spring of 2020.
TAKEN: NOVEMBER 2020

Once I'd passed that mournful summer without my dad, I noticed not very many of his furry friends remained come autumn. The ones that did escape the owls and foxes were a small family of grey squirrels and they had build a beautiful drey for themselves high up in our back gully. Fifteen seasons later I have fed and nurtured many generations, and all have offered me great memories and wonderful friendships from a distance. 

Now back to the shed that was never moved but still needs to be... Each and every spring I  open its door to see what our six months of winter hath delivered. 

Not because there is anything in there worth salvaging but because I know in spring when others awake with a hungry belly, that ugly brown shed offers one of several escape locations of trust, offering quick easy ground access for all of my dining friends.

I don't think of it as a 'members only' condo unit per se, more an exclusive diners club that offers a covered option should it be raining when I ring that afternoon dinner bell.

...Signifying their dining al fresco restaurant is officially open for service!

ONE GIANT STEP

 Have you ever had one of those days where no matter what you try and accomplish, you take one step forward and two steps back? 

Well, the fat lady is tuning up to start singing to signal the end of my vacation, and gosh darn dammit if the last seven days haven’t played out exactly like that!

Since we connected water in early May, I have loved living in my little Covid Casita. But if I'm being honest here, the five days of rain last week drove me a tad bit stir crazy. 

Usually when I am antsy and frustrated, we hop in the car and go vrooom zoom for a change of scenery. Imagine wet dog everything and misplaced car keys. 

I know, right? Two. Steps. Back!

Y'all know I love my pups and that they love me. This is proven daily by the fact that they both have to be within two feet of me at any given moment. 

So, this past week, to avoid major rainfall/lake water stinkage, I towel dried them as much as possible, leaving me with a clean towel crisis that offered impressive expletives that I usually save for that crazy orange man south of here. 

I kid you not, when an electronic friend checked in via text with, “hope your week off is okay and quiet.” I instantly responded with, ‘I did laundry in the rain this morning... Livin’ the dream!” 

Truth of the matter is, when I saw the long-range forecast, I wanted to cancel and take a different week. My husband did not. I get it. He has the privilege of a maid and cook; so I can totally empathize with why we wouldn’t entertain a reschedule.

That said, I read an online article this week about the pursuit of personal happiness. It was from a husband’s perspective. It explained how it isn’t his job to make his wife happy. It is her responsibility to ensure she is happy with her choices and herself, which I agree with 100%.

So, when cleaning out the closets this past week, I came across a two-person pup tent I'd purchased for the kids many years ago. I set it up on the lower deck and looked forward to falling asleep over the water and waking up to the morning fog. 

I think I could market this space on Air BnB!
TAKEN: August 6th, 2020

People on my Facebook immediately joked that my husband had finally sent me to the doghouse but the truth of the matter is I hit the jackpot and got the hell out of the extra large doghouse for a good night sleep. 

Then, when heading up to make morning coffee, I broke the zipper on the door, took it down and hauled it into the trash.

Killing the tent after one might have been my two steps back. BUT baby, my night outside alone in the fresh air?

One giant step forward!

LONG LIVE THE VCR

Once again, it's the little things in life that make me smile.

TAKEN: JULY 11th, 2020

This past weekend, I decided to start going through cottage totes I had packed up and put away. I knew before I began that if I didn't need what was inside, the items were going to be loaded onto the four wheeler and hauled up the hill.

My project began a top a beautiful cedar closet that has been home to two black totes that had been there forever. I grabbed my step stool and hauled them cats down. 

Very much to my surprise, I discovered they were filled with VHS tapes. 

Instantly, my sexy bonus light, signaling that I'd entered the lightning round lit up. I dropped the lid, quickly sailed across the room, and opened the top drawer of an old dresser/make shift TV stand. 

Now this dresser stand is a classic faux style antique, which I will refer to as a fine crafted, wooden flat screen television stand. Vintage in nature. Traditional in design. Lawn Sale value: $5.

 

With all my might, I pulled on the swollen top drawer that probably hadn't been opened since the totes were stored, only to to discover my prize inside. (Don't judge the whole time lapse thing. Think VERY expensive flat screen television stand.)

Anyway, the drawer was full of taped movies. As a matter a fact, three of the four drawers were filled. 

VHS tapes with family home videos, television specials, kids movies as well as some of my favourite classic movies. I suddenly felt all warm and fuzzy inside.

After an amazing weekend of watching great memories, I can't help but reflect on how easily I haphazardly jumped on a new technology band wagon all willy-nilly, with zero regard for this collection.

Truth is, when the kids were in high school, I began collecting us DVD's. When they went away to college, I began scouring bargain bins to add to my collection. 

Everything I have ranges in price from a $1.99 to $4.99. I am embarrassed to share that I have accumulated hundreds of DVD's. 

With no streaming option, the last couple of summers I have struggled to pick a movie, so imagine my excitement in the moment I discovered this treasure. 

It was like finding a long lost trusted friend on social media and you unconditionally needed to catch up with them. A total breath of fresh air....Which brings me to my point. 

Rhondi Rule #908: Never discount a strong connection you've previously had by replacing it with something shiny and new.

Chances are the original will turn out to be that cozy blanket and pair fuzzy slippers that you've been quietly missing for the last fifteen years.

Give or take a change in technology or twenty two!

HAPPY TO HELP

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

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

Thanks Alberta!
TAKEN: JULY 7th, 2020

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Proving, one should never bet against karma .

P IS FOR PAMELA

Pamela and her big brother,
TAKEN: DECEMBER 2010

If you’re a reader I know you've previously met my sister in law Pamela. 

But, if you’re discovering my electronic journal this month via the April A-Z Challenge, I am happy you’re going to get to read about  her here today.

I met Pamela for the first time when I began dating her step brother; she was four years old.

I distinctly remember that day. So much so, that I remember she was barefoot on her tricycle. 

She energetically zoomed over to me in the driveway and introduced herself with a level of confidence most adults never achieve in their lifetime. It was like she was a beaming ray of absolute sunshine.

Through her teen years, like most of us, she maintained a core group of friends and had her heart broken a couple of time before meeting her life mate. Together the relocated back to her home town and eventually, his young daughter joined her father and Pamela hit the ground running as a family. The three became four when they welcomed a son.

She was amazing. A real pistol that was one of the most caring people I’ve ever had the privilege of getting to know. She was quick witted and smart, she was beautiful and funny but most of all she was a wonderful and caring mom.

We lost Pamela, at the age of 39 on October 28th, 2019. 

I still struggle with the suddenness of it all but more so that I sense her death could have been prevented. We all miss her very much. Then again, we all know one thing to be true. Which is... Goodbyes always hurt the most when the story is not finished. 

Rest In Peace my sweet. Until we meet again.

L IS FOR LOUISIANA

I have been lucky enough to have embraced New Orleans, Louisiana twice in the last few years. My first was a 2017 Bucket List Birthday Trip and the second was to celebrate my daughters born day in 2019. 

My first trip was to enjoy an annual festival there called French Quarter Fest and to visit friends I have that live there. After that trip, I knew I wanted to return because there were certain sites I’d missed seeing. Both times I stayed at an upscale boutique hotel call the Maison Dupuy, two blocks from Bourbon Street.

If I had to pick one word to describe the city it would be exciting. My second word would have to be being expensive. 

So blessed to be able afford such experiences!

Louisiana times two!
The right 2017 the right 2019
TAKEN: APRIL 2017 & MAY 2019

D IS FOR DECADES

I will start by apologizing to my subscribers. 

I've had two unexpected deaths in our family, which has left me a week behind in my April A-Z Blogging Challenge. So, you will receive an entire weeks' worth of posts today and tomorrow. 

Truth is, I considered quitting. Then I realized I didn't want to. I figured I would give it a good push in an effort to get back on schedule by Easter Monday April 13th.

The letter D was harder than I thought it would be, because I'd decided to post a various pictures of myself from each decade. Finding them was the challenge. I hope you enjoy them.

Thanks for your patience,

Rhondi

Pretty Curls
TAKEN: DECEMBER 1969

Lake Louise with my Mama
TAKEN: JULY 1976

High School Daze
TAKEN: MAY 1984

Tampa, Florida
TAKEN: APRIL 1989

Labour Day Monday at Santa's Village
TAKEN: SEPTEMBER 1996

The summer we lived at the cottage.
TAKEN: JULY 2002

Sweetie & Me ~ Westin Harbour Castle
TAKEN: MAY 2008

Top of El Arco - Mazatlan, Mexico
TAKEN: NOVEMBER 2019

MAZATLAN MAYHEM

"Go to Mazatlan" they said. "You'll love it there!"

As most of you know, as common sense travelers, Mexico has always been a destination that we've been very comfortable with. The people and their culture's amazing and I love the fact that the Canadian dollar works in our favour; cutting Donald Trump out of said travel equation.

Because we travel as much as we do, we've always tried to alternate the choice of where we travel equally. The funny thing about Mazatlan is, it's been my husbands pick for a little over three years. The reason for our delay's that I always managed to convince him it really wasn't where he wanted to travel!

This time around, flight times, pricing, and every other item I could always combat against couldn't compare, leaving no practical reason not to officially get this particular stamp in my passport.`

What a difference 24 hours makes!

TAKEN: NOVEMBER 27th & 28th, 2019

That said, this adventure had me apprehensive from the start. Even boarding our flight in Toronto this past Tuesday morn, I disclosed that I had a bad feeling. Not one of doom and gloom per se, more something restless that I couldn't put my finger on.

First up was my worst travel day to date, topped off with the most serious level of culture shock I have ever experienced. The 40 minute trip from the airport was nothing like the videos I'd been watching on YouTube, and I instantly felt sick.

Check-in went smoothly, as a Riu never disappoints. But what I immediately discovered they can't control are the mariachi bands playing loud and off key just outside the resort barrier on the beach. 

Starting upon our arrival, two of them played for almost 6 hours straight well into the dark. The good news was once they stopped, the sound of the ocean waves as we fell asleep made the anxiety of the day disappear.

The next morning, excited it was surely a 'welcome to Mazatlan' thing, we met Canadians that disclosed they'd been here for two weeks and it happens like that every single night; with as many as four bands playing in a twenty foot area. Glass half full? We knew the bands wouldn't be playing Thursday because it was going to rain. 

Then, midnight Wednesday arrived. Rolling thunder and lightning in the distance. By 3am Thursday the rain got heavier and by 5am it was driving coming into the room. Figuring it would pass, I made a video and posted it to Instagram. Landing in the lobby for breakfast painted a more serious picture.

The majority of those staying here are of Mexican decent and the locals were panicked. The lobby was packed with hundreds trying to leave and when we arrived for breakfast most of the food had been eaten. 

We ventured into the rain a few time throughout the day until we were soaked through to the bone, only to notice it apparent the staff was working hard to keep everyone safe; and they truly did a fantastic job.

With the water receeding as I type and Mother Nature settleing into her jammies, I definately experienced some serious mayhem in Mazatlan today. So, as my husband's adamant we continue to discover more and more Mexican & South American coastal cities, I know a couple of thing to be true.

Next time I need to pack a few extra pairs of big girl panties... Not to mention a kick ass rain slicker!

PS: The Weather Network says only sunshine for the rest of our stay.
PSS: How's that for your a glass half full gal JC?

PSSS: MIC DROP!

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

WHEN LESS IS MORE!

(l-r:) Wonder Woman, Smartie, Bestest Bee, Darin & Me
TAKEN (l-r:): 2009, 2010, 2011, 2016

I read somewhere that distance can be the perfect messenger to help one understand who is worth keeping in your life and who is worth letting go. No matter how you slice and dice it, keeping in touch with anyone is tough, no matter what the geographical distance.

Most people, myself included, make excuses. There's work, home, dogs, family, work & work, not to mention life in general: the circle of actual excuses, are in fact the vicious circle that kills most efforts.

As a result, when I began carpooling in 2015, I started using that time to connect with people I truly missed and never got to see. Four years later, I can honestly embrace that I've worked harder to reach out to the people that mean the most to me. 

How? Sometimes I might might voice text, singing to the other, or simply calling because I'd just heard a song on the radio we both love. Sometimes, I'd get so carried away with swearing about my situation at hand, that they burst into true belly laughter.

My favourite are the times when one calls me. Simply because they feel we just need to hear the others voice.

Best part are the chats that end with an ‘I love you’, my second are those that end in laughter at a joke only the two of us get. Most importantly, I always ensure I tell them that I’m very glad they’re in my life.

I don’t know about you but I feel that truly great connections will always allow you to reach out, offer to hop a flight & grab a hotel, simply because you need to be near their energy. Those are the one’s you’re forever grateful for.

Honestly, when you understand a person that well. You can handle whatever plethora of bullshit, life is gonna serve ya!

PS: Jo, NannyF, B-Rad, Sweenymiester, SBM, Tim & Twos, Lady Di... Thanks.

W IS FOR WONDER

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

D IS FOR DISTANCE

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.) 

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.

REMEMBERING 2018

There is no path to happiness, because happiness is the path. ~ Budda
TAKEN: ALL IN 2018

January: My very own ‘Fire & Ice Festival’ at the cottage in an unusually mild month of January. 

February: Four very sexy nights spent in Nassau, Bahamas.

March: Trivia night with coworkers at Kelly’s Irish Pub (Jukebox was our host this particular evening).

April: My birthday trip, to Miami Beach to see the last regular season Toronto Raptors game (and enjoy my first $100 USD hamburger in South Beach).

May: Visiting a job site on Lake Rosseau, proving in the fifth month, winter felt like it lasted forever.

June: Celebrated our 30th wedding anniversary

July: Jukebox busking out his apartment window as captured and posted on social media by Explorer’s Edge

August: Sweetie at Boot’s & Hearts for her second year in a row. I loved enjoying it with her so much (electronically) that I am joining in this year!

September: After months of shopping, I finally found the new car I wanted to purchase.

October: The official end of the perfect cottage season, as I pay homage to the amazing floating picnic that was built and truly enjoyed by all.

November: The snow arrived. Never left.

December: My year closed with a great work year under my belt and I am pleased to report that I enjoyed a holiday season of sheer relaxation with my pups. 

Suffice it to say, this past year's been a very difficult one for me, resulting in a ton of personal change. 

In hindsight: Though I came close a couple of times (only publishing 60 offerings) I’m grateful that I never gave up on my electronic journal. Since it’s inception in November 2011, it's truly been one hell of a ride!

As I reflect on how far I have come, the trash that I took to the curb, and all the tragedy our country witnessed this last year (Humboldt Broncos bus crash,  and the Toronto van deaths, to name only two)... Here’s to a fresh start in 2019. 

At midnight tonight, 2018… 

Don’t let the door hit you too hard on the way out!

NEVER LOSE HOPE

I don’t know about you, but I am one step away from being downright giddy that there’s only a handful of sleeps until the upcoming holiday break. Frankly, I feel I am bordering upon exhausted; but pleased to report that I am managing far better than initially thought in the seasonal affective department.

Not gonna lie, I am NOT going to miss 2018. It was a bit of an emotional roller coaster that ended up with me hitting an all time low the middle of May. If it wasn’t for the Sweenymeister talking me off a ledge or two, my life would be drastically different than it is today. So, as you can imagine, I am very grateful to have her in my life. 

Anyway, as you may or may not recall, I apprehensively posted (in real time) about a weekend jaunt to Cuba I took with my daughter in 2017. I disclosed that I'd never had any desire to visit the island but when the need for a 4 day jolt of vitamin D called it became the obvious choice. We booked, kept our fingers crossed, and had a blast.

On our first morning there, I heard a familiar voice tell her party by the pool, 'I know those people!" 

Low and behold, we ran into this lady & her husband, that I use to babysit for when I was a teen. An EPIC holy shit moment at its best.

As I share this photo of us from 2017, I will also share that she and I have been chatting about the islands' recovery since Irma decimated it, and that I have decided to go back. The resort has been completely rebuilt, and you know what they say, the second time's a charm.

Quick photo with our Muskoka friend before heading to catch our night flight back home.
No hair. No Makeup. No worries!!
Memories Flamenco Beach Resort - Cayo Coco, Cuba.
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 13th, 2018

The second time's a charm. I was thinking about that very thought before I began to write tonight.

Taking any chance in life is never easy, so most don't do it twice. Well, my year has proven to me that I am most certainly NOT a once bitten twice shy kinda gal. I have proven to myself that I will push myself harder than most, simply because I know what success feels like.

In turn, some will call me a bitch. To which I will gladly counter and describe myself as focused. Reminding all, that our most important & valuable life experiences happen in real time and never happen on a beach.

Except this time. This coming February. In Cuba!!

WOOT.

“We are the sum total of our experiences. Those experiences - be they positive or negative - make us the person we are, at any given point in our lives. And, like a flowing river, those same experiences, and those yet to come, continue to influence and reshape the person we are, and the person we become. None of us are the same as we were yesterday, nor will be tomorrow.” ~ B.J. Neblett

A VERY MEMORABLE NOVEMBER

As you're well aware, when the kids left for post-secondary school, I entered into a time of self-discovery with a mindset that I wanted to enjoy things I'd never had the luxury (with three children born two years apart) to a textbook middle-class Canadian couple. Concerts to me, became like designer shoes to Carrie Bradshaw: a 'must have'.

Packing only a Visa card
& my cellphone... 
I headed down St.Charles

into Old Montreal.

TAKEN: November 8th, 2013

So, as I have Marty McFly & Doc Brown rollback the DeLorean time travel dial, we arrive on Thursday November 6th, 2013.

My and I husband ventured into Toronto mid-day the see the History of the Eagles concert, that I swear I'd waited since 1976 to see. I had purchased the bucket list tickets the winter before and my highlight was that I was able to get some killer photos from the second row.

Anyway, still reeling from the excitement, the next morning we rose and enjoyed breakfast together, then my husband dropped me off at the airport in Toronto. I met a girlfriend coming in from Muskoka and we hopped a plane to Montreal.

The shortest flight I've ever taken was the perfect build up to one of the most exciting weekends I have ever experienced. We were hitting up Montreal to see Bon Jovi perform that Saturday night.

You see, my girlfriend won the tickets on a local radio station and her +1 cancelled on her less than a week before. Just as I would have, she headed on to her Facebook feed to see who could juggle their life last minute and get on a plane with her the following Thursday. I won!

To this day, I am so grateful for her taking me that weekend. That five day run of excitement was literally a wonderful once in a lifetime experience. That said, for a number of reasons, that very weekend in Montreal changed me as a person, not to mention how I've looked at life in general since.

After years of unconditional personal and financial support, a person close to me (on the receiving end of my charity) angrily 'unfriended me' when she discovered that I'd traveled from Toronto to la belle 'je me souviens' province at a whirlwind pace. Her reasoning? Because I'd given my second Eagles ticket to my husband and not her, then didn't take her to Montreal. 

Had she'd been civil at the time, she would have realized that 50% of what I have belongs to my husband, then discovered that it was my very generous friend that invited me to join her. All the latter cost me was the fee to put the West Jest ticket into my name. I was simply the invitee, never the inviter.

Which brings me to my point. Once a greedy person, always a greedy person. The more they get, the more they want. So, how did my very memorable November weekend in Montreal change me?

It made me realize (once the shock and hurt eventually passed) that the other washing their hands of me was the single biggest cost saving myself and my family have ever been blessed to receive.

The other side to my almost five year later coin toss (leap of faith, and/or possible lapse in judgement) is that though I've decided to allow her a peek back in, my doing so comes with an honest warning... that is plain and simple.

I may always try and forgive, yet I most certainly will never forget.

Wish us luck!

DO YOU BELIEVE IN SIGNS?

Just like I do every long weekend, I watch the weather like a hawk to ensure I get at least one sunny day of rest. And by rest, I mean totally ignore the long list of things I need to do and willfully bask in the sunshine. Well, that day this Labour Day weekend was this past Saturday.

When the rain hit just before dawn Sunday morning my sleep was quickly interrupted. That, combined with the pups getting me up earlier than I would have liked, left me generally grumpy. Dark cloud over head, I greeted the day and the chores I wanted to tackle.

I knew I wanted to get some fall cottage cleaning done, so jacked full of caffeine, I decided to move around some furniture, which lead me to organizing the plethora of Trivial Pursuit board games I collect: which I rarely play anymore.

Anyway, I should probably preface that I got a somewhat unsettling text message around dinner time Saturday evening, which may or may not have led to my sleeplessness. In the end, for the twelve or so hours that followed, I kept asking myself… “What would Dad think I should do?”

As I continued the task of gathering my useless crap, I landed where the games have had their home since the cottage was purchased. When I opened the lid, all I could do was smile. Unexpectedly, my father was in the moment with me in spirit. You see, I had forgotten that he had made the toy box for my son’s birthday back in 1996 and left him a personal message using a wood soldering gun.

My dad always shows up when I least expect him.
(To protect my son's identity, I have covered his given name)
TAKEN: SEPTEMBER 2nd, 2018

As I pulled all the board games out of the box to reorganize, all I could think of was Jukebox in poppa’s livingroom, showing him all his all his slick Power Ranger moves and my dad pretending to be the villain Jukebox was ultimately trying to slay.

Just like that, the thought of them removed any & all grumpy stupidity, and I knew I’d ultimately made the right decision the night before. How about you? Do you believe in signs?... I most certainly do.

Grateful my father's presence reminds me that everything is going to be "better"!

I'LL ALWAYS SAVE A SPOT

It was three years ago this month that a long-time acquaintance took a total leap of faith with this cat and decided to let me carpool with her. Though we’d known the other for over twenty years, our interactions for the decade previous were completely selfish on my part; with my continually tapping into her wealth of compliance knowledge within the construction industry.

As luck would have it, our new found arrangement and getting into the groove of really knowing the other once again, was like riding a bike. That twenty minute daily commute didn’t take us long to realize we had more in common than we could possibly imagine. 

From the get go, our morning routine ranged from both of us yelling at incompetent drivers, to one convincing the other that a death wish drive-thru breakfast sandwich would never in a million years harden our arteries. For forty minutes a day, we quickly and very easily morphed into Thelma & Louise.

As an unexpected bonding bonus, last summer I was ecstatic when she invited me to join in her yoga classes at the local community centre that were geared specifically to municipal employees. Once again, she had taken me under her wing, and willingly toured me around the dance floor.

Our last practice with Ashley this summer.
TAKEN: AUGUST 30th, 2018

Well, it is with a heavy heart that I realized tonight the reality that my SweeneyMeister is retiring at the end of this year. I swear it wasn't until tonight, and the brutal realization that it was her last practice with the lady that made her fall in love with yoga, that the alarm bells went off.

Knowing the great respect she and Ashley have for each other, I felt the need to capture tonight for prosperity. Though I did take a picture of my favourite three at the end of our practice, I will admit  that I like this one the best.

It solidifies, without a doubt, that not only is my my quirky carpool sidekick very serious about yoga.... but that she also makes sure she saves my spot.

I love you my friend. I truly believe we were always meant to reconnect.

Nameste.