J IS FOR JAMMERS

My son Jukebox, singing in the finals of Muskoka Voice!
TAKEN: AUGUST 2018

My oldest son was born in the dead of winter in Muskoka; he slept in a bassinet beside my bed for the first month or so, then graduated into his very own crib. Once he moved into his nursery, I made a choice that there would always be a radio playing. Why? Because we didn’t want him to be one of those babies conditioned to total silence.

Always set to the local radio station, it was rarely turned off. He dozed off to the tunes, and woke up the same way. I truly feel that early choice we made for him, has embedded the musical passion he has today.

Genetically, Jammers has always been completely surrounded by musicality. It’s a very common thread that is everywhere (on all sides of our family).

He is completely self-taught, disciplined, and he has fully embraced music as a craft. He’s talented. He’s extremely talented. Name the instrument, he can play it!

Keep going Jukebox. We know you can accomplish whatever you put your voice and self driven talent behind!

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!

WINTER SUCKS!

My photos were taken exact 163 hours apart.
I really do dread this time of year!
TAKEN OCTOBER 27th & NOVEMBER 1st, 2019

I don't know about you, but fall for me is like an amazing twelve week shopping spree that eventually ends with an epic case of buyer’s remorse. 

It's as if Labour Day is the milestone signaling me to head the shopping mall. Thanksgiving brings the expensive and very euphoric sexy shoe purchase, and by Halloween the fun becomes strained.

Ultimately, by the time we turn the clocks back, the Visa bill with interest arrives; and that final buzz kill leaves me grumpy for the six long months of winter that follow.

As you know, the time change is a big deal for me. So many things I dread just naturally happen. Every. Single. Year.

Almost immediately after we 'fall back', I leave for work in the dark and arrive home under the same circumstance. The swashbuckling pirates that produce my bogus hydro bill begin to circle like vultures, and it takes every fiber of self-restraint to not put gravy on absolutely everything I eat. As an emotional eater, at least I know the latter feeds into my 24-7 need for comfort, when I am simply always glum.

All my bitching aside, I understanding time is precious and I truly do hate to wish it away but 2019 has not been a remarkable year of magnificent for me. Rather, I feel I have been repeatedly tested.

The truth is, with 61 days left until the year ends, I sense I’m in high school again. Specifically in grade 12 Chemistry when my teacher gave me a passing grade. Not because I'd aced his class, just simply because I'd tried as hard as I could and never once gave up.

Reinforcing, yet again, that even if you didn't have a shit year nor suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder,  there are two things I know to be true.

That life is really hard, right up until the moment it isn't.

... and that WINTER SUCKS!

LOCKING 'ME' UP!

It’s that time of year again, when I endlessly search for enough time to get done what's expected of me.

For example, when my daughter asked me to forward her pics from our recent trip to New Orleans, it took me onward of a month to find the time to get around to doing it. 

Anyway, as I perused the hundreds of photos I'd taken, I ultimately became fixated on a series of one in particular, which I'd snapped at a city wharf along the Mississippi River. 

Though I am pleased to report that I managed to send my daughter a few dozen really great photos, the LOVE WINS one I am sharing today lingered in the forefront of my thoughts for the few days that followed. 

Not having any understanding of the symbolism it portrayed, my architect friend Darin sent me a Google link explaining that sweethearts' typically inscribed names & dates on a padlock, and its key's thrown away (often into the nearby river) to symbolize their unbreakable love.

Like most people I know, I have felt & nurtured a number of great loves in my life. Some are now associated more with loss, but for the most part I feel the majority of my life I’ve had an open heart & given generously.

Over my coffee at the cottage Sunday morning, I messaged another electronic friend explaining how my photo had further inspired me. Which ultimately had me search the cupboards for a lock with a key & a permanent marker.

When I shared my second photo with him, I explained that I had effortlessly penned my thoughts on my lock, then threw the key as hard as I could off the end of the dock; realizing only after the fact that I had missed the critically important step of linking it to a chain-link fence!

The impact I felt at the Toulouse Street Wharf (NOLA), truly followed me home to Canada.

TAKEN: MAY 30th, 2019 

& JUNE 23rd, 2019

Not to throw baby out with bath water, I decided to bring the lock home and strategically place it on the desk in my home office. Primarily, as a constant reminder that the most important relationship I will ever be in, is the one I am in with myself. 

As you can imagine, it’s taken me decades to be in a place where no matter where life takes me, or whom crosses my path, I truly believe that everything will always work out for the best. That said, I feel I should ask the obvious question....You know that there's nothing wrong with loving & putting yourself first, right? 

If you struggle with the concept, think of it this way.

You're the one person you'll spend the majority of your lifetime with. Why wouldn’t you want to ensure you're always surrounded by the very best possible company?!

Which brings me full circle to my very long winded point, which is to do yourself a favour and make yourself a priority.

Trust me. My life experience is that no one else is ever going to do it for you!!

N IS FOR NEGATIVITY

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.)

I IS FOR INSIGHT

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.)

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!

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!

ORANGE YOU GLAD?

Anyone else have pumpkim carving intuition?
TAKEN: OCTOBER 20th, 2018

As I sit here typing toasty warm, whilst enjoying the fire in the woodstove with my pups at my feet, I can't help but sip my Sunday morning coffee and smile. Feeling blessed, yet again, that my 'happy place' tends to unconditionally provide us with a sheer sense of contentment.

This past weekend, we were pleasantly surprised to land to a much milder Saturday afternoon than expected. As a result, the last of the wood was split & piled, and the remaining brush was burned. I gotta tell ya, it feels great that nothing aches when I kill it outside like I did yesterday. Let's just say that I don't feel even close to the age that my passport hastily reports me to be.

Anyway, worried the weather was going to take a turn for the worst, it was decided that this past weekend was the perfect time to close everything down as well as do my traditional annual cottage carve that doesn't involve a turkey. Suffice is to say, I went shopping and found the above beauty for a whopping $2.88!

The good news is that I found the perfect pumpkin, the bad news is that I couldn't bring myself to carve it until next weekend. Like so many things in our everyday lives, my beloved creative gourd tradition reminded me (yet again) that timing is everything.

You know what I mean. When to buy, or when to sell. When to embrace, or when to let go.... Or in this case, when to carve, or when to admire. I guess you can say that I believe (in all of the above situations) our personal intuition generally wins out over any conscious reasoning. I consider great instincts right up there with keen practical common sense; where very few have one, let alone both.

For what it's worth, I am a firm believer that this time of year is always a great time for what I would call a 'fall cleaning'. You get rid of what you no longer need nor embrace, and that general cleanse process leaves you feeling great. I guess I feel less material and/or emotional baggage to carry through one of our long Canadian winters, makes snowshoeing in January a hell of a lot easier.

Soooo... Orange you glad that this glorious season labelled 'fall' exemplifies how beautiful it can be to weather great challenges, finally let go, then ultimately start over?

Me too!

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"!

NOT A TYPICAL MAYDAY

Can you believe it’s the end of May and I haven’t written here in almost a month? I can. It was a long winter and I’ve taken the past month off to try and recover & regroup.

Though I am pleased to report that I did officially complete the April A-Z challenge, posts were regularly late and they definitely crawled up to what I would have to label as 'lackluster'. For the first time since I started this electronic journal, I posted because I had to, not because I wanted to. Suffice is to say, my run in the A-Z department is over; six years was definitely long enough.

For reasons I don’t need to really share, I’ve had a pretty big emotional set back. I can only try to put it into perspective by sharing how things went for me when I was raising three teenagers. I would always try to calmly reinforce a fair & proper approach, but lines continually kept being crossed. I always tried to help them learn how to navigate life, yet I could only be taken advantage of for so long until I’d ultimately snap. Well, I’ve snapped alright, and this time (though it has nothing to do with my children) I don’t think very specific things in my life will ever be the same.

To complicate my discombobulated mindset, it saddens me further to admit that I won’t be spending much time at the cottage this summer. There are a lot of compounding reasons why, but first and foremost my beloved dog Dot is coming to the end of her life.

She struggles to walk and can no longer do the steps nor the hill. Yet, she is such a stoic pup within the pack that I know if I take her out there it will end up killing her. So, I am going to keep her here comfortable at the house, and enjoy my time with her staying very close to home. 

Enjoying Williams Park right before we discovered her hips were a very complicated issue.
(Photo Credit: STACCS)
TAKEN: JUNE 2015

Isn’t it funny how pets make us reflect on our own mortality and overall happiness? It was never my intent to have a brood a pups so large that they accounted for 20% of my weekly grocery bill, but just like when the kids were growing up, I struggle to deny them anything. Truth of the matter is, my daughter comments that they eat better than I do! 

People are always asking for comment on how I juggle and manage three (above average size) dogs... and I tell them with patience, love, and a lot of really hard work.

But, if there’s one thing I’m not afraid of, it’s hard work. It is how I have approached life and the only way I know how to exist; which is to greet each new day, try my very best, and be loyal to those who deserve it.

…No one knows that better than my beautiful spottie dog Dot.

B IS FOR BLACK BEAUTY

Today my post if for my beautiful black flat-coated retriever ANNIE!
TAKEN: 2015,2016,2017,2018

SOME ADVICE TO LIVE BY

It's that time of year again, when you spend the majority of your much earned time off, going through all of the motions that are expected. Yet, the truth of the matter is you can't wait to get an evening to yourself; so you can crack open a bag of Doritos and cheerfully comment aloud that 'they're definitely the most underrated hors d'oeuvre!'

What a year. What a hell bent, Skinny Minnie Miller, roller derby, whirlwind full of exit drama kinda year. Those latter bull crap filled shenanigans ultimately had the Russian judge award me a perfect 10.0 for my year end dismount. That unexpected score right there, has me quietly reflecting in my fuzzy socks this New Years Eve. So many emotions yet not a single regret. Just an amazing amount of personal enthusiasm for what the coming year has to offer.

Relax, this isn't a 'new year - new me' electronic journal post. Because as you all know, I have worked very hard to get to this phenomenal place called balance. Instead, my post has me reporting that under our severe cold freeze, I took it upon myself to get out of the house and walk to town yesterday to get a new high speed router.

My timing to town was perfect, which allowed me the privilege of taking my daughter for a bite of lunch at our favourite coffee shop. After a great visit and some much needed 'I love yous,' I headed back toward the homestead on foot. Man, it was cold. I hadn't noticed the bitter windchill heading to town as it must have been to my back.

Singing and walking at a pace just shy of a slow jog,  I tackled the last large hill toward my final straight stretch. With my face freezing from the windchill, I decided to call my husband. I told him where I was at and to let the dogs out in the next couple of minutes so they could get a good run in to come and meet me.

My beautiful airborne Annie... with Puddin' and Dot!
TAKEN: DECEMBER 30th, 2017

As I turned the corner & called their names, from hundreds of meters away, I could see them bolt and my beautiful Annie begin to fly.

As I grabbed my phone I laughed a loud. All my mind could process from the oncoming visual was THIS's what unconditional love looks like!

It's that simple.

In 2018, make a conscious effort to radiate the energy you want to receive. Always keep your words kind, and the tone of your voice kinder. Spend time with the people in your life that align with your personal philosophies; and less with those that don't.

 Most importantly? ...Don't be a dick!

As we officially ring in our seventh eve together, I'd like to take this opportunity to wish everyone a very Happy New Year and once again thank you all so very much for reading.

Cheers to 2018 ~ Rhondi 

WILL I EVER LEARN?

A couple of days ago I was standing in the front reception area of our office, when I noticed two trucks from the company I use to work for, turn right at the only traffic light in town.

 Loaded full of men yet the racks empty of product, I couldn’t help but verbalize my thoughts to the two peeps standing with me. “Lookie over there,” I said.  “Five guys on a mission and nothing to install. How much do you want to bet they are going back to fix all their mistakes?!” Laughter from those within earshot quickly ensued.

It’ll be four years next month since I resigned and moved on from their employ, and I’m not sure why I’m still such a big bitch about it. Actually, that's a lie, I know exactly why. 

They're called red flags for a reason
TAKEN: Sayulita, Mexico (APRIL 2016)

Because I am fiercely loyal to a fault and the owners of that company took that immeasurable loyalty for granted. In turn, I cut my losses and walked away from what I considered to be the best job I’d ever had.

I have been seriously reflecting about my genuine sense of loyalty for about the last year and a half. As a matter of fact, last winter, for the first time since the mid-2000's, I began seeing my psychologist again. I went to her regularly in the mid 90’s after a severe and languishing bout of postpartum depression.

In that particular instance in the 90's, I wanted to understand why I constantly struggled with my inability to go from funk to fab. In turn, after a little more than a year, she’d helped me create an amazing toolbox of skills that I still lean on today which help me manage my mindset; without the use of a pharmaceutical company.

This time around, my need for assistance was a much more personal one and after a winter of coaching, by the end of March 2017 I was back to my good ole confident inner self. With her unconditional help, I have a solid knowledge and full understanding  on how to help myself combat those people that take my sense of ingrained loyalty for granted. 

As I seek further guidance, I know she'll tell me to continue to remind myself that one of the hardest journeys I’ll ever take in this life is the never-ending road to understanding how to put myself first. I understand that I am conditioned for always thinking the right thing will happen, when in fact if I were to check the overall stats, for me personally, it rarely does.

Let’s face it, I've had enough experience in this department to know that everything will be fine. To which I choose to believe, in the end, karma will be a bigger bitch than I will ever need to be; so I’m just going to be a big girl, take the high road, and call it a day. 

Just to clarify, the use of the word big in the above sentence is in the direct reference to my level of maturity and not my actual girth. Though truth be known, I could definitely stand to lose a few pounds. 

Just sayin'.

A DECADE & SOME DAYS

Well, this past weekend was a busy one. In hopes of the five of us getting together for at least five minutes to say hello, my daughter made a reservation at Goobs' restaurant for Friday night.

When we picked Jukebox up at his place, he was curious what the special occasion was. There really wasn’t one other than I needed to get our smiling faces together. Sadly that didn't happen because his kitchen serves really amazing authenticate Mexican food and they were turning people without a reservation away at the door. He was jammed.

Though I missed seeing Goob, dinner timing was a perfect prelude to my husband helping Jukebox move to his new digs the following day. When they finished moving him, they in turn fetched things gifted by my mother in law, which had us taking a new bed and much needed larger dresser into the garage furniture inventory. 

All day Saturday, while everyone was busy moving, I enjoyed doing a good fall housecleaning and my annual purge of unnecessary crap that had officially slowly congregated without my consent. That exercise had Sweetie ending up with a bag of clothes she'd left behind and some ‘new to her’ furniture, while Jukebox was unexpectedly gifted the leather sofa we haven’t sat on in five years (all in great shape, just no longer needed as I continue to downsize).

Cleaning out the remnants of the older dresser being gifted, I came across a bunch of photos in a envelope in the bottom drawer. Most I looked at were cut to be placed in a specific frame but over time they’d been replaced with another. The one I am sharing today was taken a decade and some days ago.

I remember this day. We had traveled 100 miles south to a popular amusement park with our three kids and twenty or so of their friends. We'd chartered a small bus and had an amazing day. I remember it as particularly special because it was a time when the last thing our children wanted to do was spent time with us. 

So much has changed since then. All three are fiercely independent and I am proud that the days of back-filling their finances are over. I think the biggest change is the one I see in myself. Though I text with them almost everyday, my need to be a helicopter mom is gone and my constant hovering has finally ceased.

That said, I am so blessed that this picture and the thousands of others I cherish represent just a fraction of the wonderful memories we have created together. All a part of my consistent attempts to model and support each into the very best version of themselves. 

In hindsight, I feel I always tried to be unconditionally supportive whilst balancing being the unbelievable queen size bitch they all know I can still be; the foundation of my almost 30 year formula that's officially resulted in my own personal independence.

...Still hard to fathom that something I'd truly resisted for the last decade's so amazing.

Yet another life lesson for Rhondi.

ALL WAS DEFINITELY NOT LOST

Like most people I am a creature of habit.  When it comes to any defense and/or coping mechanisms, should something work I stick with it until it doesn’t, then I reassess. Like any stellar mechanic, I have a really cool toolbox filled with exercises I use to help keep my personality sharp and my mind out of any unnecessary darkness. 

I don’t talk here much about how big a pessimist I am but if I were to gauge it, I'd go with T-Rex large and twice as fierce. Anyway, after a bout of postpartum depression in the mid 1990’s, I decided a change in overall outlook (combined with an understanding of my limitations) the only way to go. As a result, I ended up to seeking help outside my family physician to avoid being medicated on anti-depressants. 

Forever an all important work in progress, I'm generally very open about the fact that I lean on a psychologist if need be; with my core philosophy being you take your car in for a check-up why wouldn’t you do the same for your mindset.

Short story long, I didn’t go to work today. Specifics as to why are moot points so when the alarm rang at 5am I immediately decided I needed to completely regroup and dig deep with a solid effort to go from funk to fab. Well rested, I finally rolled out of bed around noon.

Rested, yet restless, I needed to focus and find an unrelated task. I decided to remove and attack my hard drive that'd crashed from my office desktop unit last April and see if I could salvage anything from it. I got the necessary tools from the garage and began my dissection. 

Staccs n' me  rocking the white sand beach in Cayo Coco, Cuba
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 10th, 2017

I am pleased to report that I was able to successfully remove the hard drive without further damage and retrieve all of my precious data. Thousands of pictures but more importantly all of my taxation backup. Because as we all know...the taxman is a complete and total asshole!

As my data transferred I couldn’t help but reflect on the year I’ve had. If I wasn't what the doctors label clinically depressed last winter I’ll eat my fuzzy socks and lend you all the blankets I wanted to cover my head with. 

That said, my saving grace through all of that drama was the weekend jaunt I took to Cuba with my daughter. I salvaged this picture today. Isn’t she absolutely beautiful?

She will be excited to read that I got all of our travel pictures back. Along will all of our others from 2007 on. Hence the reason for my title that all was definitely not lost.

Who says being in a mental health daze can’t be rewarding, productive and amazing?!

THE LOVES OF MY LIFE

A thorn between two roses and the true loves of my life.
TAKEN: JUNE 11th, 1988

Yesterday would have been my fathers' 89th birthday and tomorrow I will celebrate my 29th wedding anniversary. If I've asked you once, I feel I've asked you a hundred times; where the hell has does the time go?

It seems like it was only a minute and a half ago that I was listening to my father and his father chat in the living room of 222 2nd Avenue. His mother would be humming away in the kitchen and his brother, as always, would have been looking to instigate a tickling match. It would have been the early 1970's.

The 70's turned into the 80's and by the end of the decade I was married. The 90's brought children and the decade was a blur. All of that said, after surviving the whole Y2K fiasco, it was the middle of the decade that changed me and 2005 will always be the year that will be etched in my memory for the rest of my life.

Not a day goes by that I don't miss my dad. He was the first man I ever loved and I love him as much today, as I did the moment he died in my arms. Fittingly, my other true love was with the both of us on that fateful morn. Even more than a decade later my husband will become emotional when we chat about how he left us. Our conversation usually ends with him verbalizing "...he was my best friend."

With the kids grown and gone we often talk of how we've become the others closest companion. We spend 99.99% of our time together working toward our common goals. When we began this journey more than three decades ago we were much more individual. As most can relate, friends, even greedy self-absorbed siblings, come and go but we will always have the other. He has embraced my love of the outdoors and I have resigned myself to not argue when he wants me to be adventurous with food. I must say, it is our mutual love of sports, music & travel that has become our strongest glue.

It's hard to admit that my dad leaving us the way he did produced crack in the foundation of our strong marriage but in hindsight we realize it was a lot of the subjective actions of those around us that was our issue, not our commitment to each other.

As I sit here typing on my laptop and watching my husband quietly chip away at a crossword puzzle I never finished, I can't help but daydream. I wish my dad was sitting with us. He'd be playing solitaire and humming amidst complaining about the crap card he'd be turning.

Once he realized he had lost yet again, he'd stop to acknowledge my pups. Probably because they'd be under foot but more importantly so that he could take the opportunity tell me that he thinks I take better care of them than I do my man. Yep, those were the days. When the loves of my life would tag team with each other in an effort to get a reaction out of me.

Good times. Really.... GREAT times.

A SMALL TOWN IN MOURNING

Last Friday night after arriving back in town late, I quickly picked up my pups at the house and headed to the cottage. I prepared a quick meal, read a book for a bit, then decided to watch a movie. Shortly after midnight I headed upstairs and checked my Facebook one last time for good luck. My entire body froze as I read the tragic headline aloud: Woman dead following gun shots in Wellington Street area, Bracebridge.

As soon as I looked at the online news photo, I knew who'd been killed. In hindsight, the more unsettling in the moment was that before my husband saw any photos, he matter-a-fact-ly announced her murderer by name. Almost a week later, I am truly sad to write that we were both correct. Once again, our small town mourns as a wonderful woman tragically lost her life in the terrible war against domestic violence.

Gone but never to be forgotten.
TAKEN: MAY 29th, 2017

Out of respect for the family, my post isn’t to retrace steps, nor point fingers. My personal reason for writing's more to put a focus on awareness. You see, the morning following the incident, a publication ban was placed on the episode. For the rest of the weekend the radio waves remained quiet of the incident and the online posts were only updating readers that there had been first degree murder charges laid and nothing else because the ban was in place. All I kept asking myself was... will a deliberate hush of quiet allow the loss of this beautiful soul to be in vain?

The thought of protecting the murderers' identity was absolutely and utterly incomprehensible me. I got stuck at the simplistic thinking of why should he be given the luxury? Shouldn’t he be showered with the exact amount of respect he offered his wife? As I began to voice my concern to others, every single person expressed the very same opinion; that he deserved nothing. 

Finally, Monday afternoon I took it upon myself to start making calls. My first was to one of her closest friends. I listened intently then explained the reason for my call. I wanted to rally support to get the publication ban lifted. The sole purpose being, if removing the gag order saved only one woman as a result of understanding how last Friday nights tragedy transpired, her death would not be in vain and she would be the others saviour. I am pleased to report that the publication ban was lifted at the beginning of her assailants bail hearing on the morning of May 30th.

So I beg all of you reading, no matter how painful the idea of domestic violence is, please talk about it. Talk about the ‘who, what, where, when and how’...  hell, yell it from the roof top. Because it's my humble opinion that in a society where one in three are the hard abuse statistics, awareness will always be our best front line defense tactic in saving innocent lives.

Outside of that, what I do know to be true is that I am going to follow the upcoming events at the courthouse intently and with a true sense of personal commitment. Moving forward I am going to spearhead more fundraising to help any of those one in three women that are currently under fire. Partially because I am blessed that I will never be in need of the truly valuable support services and secure shelter, yet more importantly to maximize the hope of never having to write about this again.

Thanks for reading but more importantly no matter where you live or what you do, please always work towards raising awareness against domestic abuse and improving these horrible and very senseless crimes.

Rest in peace Wendy Boland. You may be gone but I promise you will never be forgotten.

NO SOUP FOR ME!

Last week produced some of the worse walking and driving conditions in my neck of the woods in a very long time. The good news is that by the time Friday morning rolled around the mercury was well above freezing and it managed to climb to a balmy 5C yesterday. It felt good to be out and about town without a coat in January.

So here's the million dollar question of the day: A northerner by birth, have I finally learned to live in harmony with winter; or am I just so conditioned to going through the motions, that I can completely compartmentalize my serious disdain for this time of year? For a couple of reasons, in this very moment, I have to go with the latter.

Road were exactly like my rear view mirror... Slickery!
TAKEN: JANUARY 18th, 2017

You see, over the holiday break I received some very shocking & heartbreaking personal news about a very dear friend. So as a group it was decided we'd hop a plane and head into the sun for the Family Day long weekend. Nothing extravagant, just a quick flight and 3 quiet days away from it all. As always, I gladly offered to book everything online.

Having had no time to really focus on flight times etc., I decided to finally roll up my jammie sleeves this morning, go online and book. The original condo decided upon was out of the question as the owner got his dates mixed up. So, as a back up, I'd short listed other options. The disappointment this morning's that I should have never procrastinated as I have to go back to the drawing board.

Dang, spang! Before my exercise this morning, I genuinely found the thought of last minute travel exciting; which is no longer the case. My bad. Because I want specific criteria met, I am not having much luck. The truth is I was trolling my friends on Facebook in hopes of getting some suggestions and help; and though they've all been helpful, I am disappointed to report there's still no soup for me.

Yep, even though there's no soup for me, my glass half full's reminding me that it's a probably a good thing. With my complete and total crap luck these last few months, I'm sure had I hit the jackpot today and scored what I wanted,  the soup served would not have been piping hot and hearty.

Likely the opposite.You know, more a bland and unsalted cold vichyssoise!

What can I say other than....Ya Gotta Laugh About It!!

ONE MORE GONE... AGAIN!

A smidgen over a year after returning to Ontario, our daughter once again moved out on her own last Friday. It had been something she wanted to do since arriving, yet finding reliable full-time work in this one horse town, became her challenge. When she did find a solid job, the hours were so erratic that all she did was sleep to stay functioning (so moving out, understandably hit the back burner). As a result, craving her independence, personal space and sanity, over this past winter she'd spend nights on the couch at her twin brothers house to simply escape the 'rents'. Now that she's officially relocated, is it bad to admit that the feeling was mutual? 

Five years ago I didn't know what to do with my time. Now, I find there aren't enough hours in a day to accomplish all the things I want to experience. To put things into perspective, the first time she moved 50 miles south, I cried for what felt like months. This #9 time? I took yesterday to myself and this morning I landed home to clean the spare room and move my work clothing into the spare closet & dressers. A mere 48 hours later, I had cleaned and reconciled the clutter and was extremely grateful to have my dressing room back.

Her leaving resembles my general opinion of my life thus far, which is there will always be evolution. We outgrow people, we outgrow jobs, and we most certainly outgrow circumstance. Yet, never, ever, in a million years, would I have predicted that our children would outgrow us; and vice versa. In no way shape or form does it mean we don't love one another, it just means to stay unconditionally in love with each other, there needs to be a mutual respect of boundaries and a pinch of distance to make the love affair effortless.

Happy 24th Birthday Staccs & Goob... We love you very much.
TAKEN: JULY 1992

Anyway, for those of you that are connected to the twins on social media, you know that this past weekend was their Birthday weekend. YUP, 24 years ago this week, at 8:33am & 8:36am they officially entered our world. They were two weeks early and both greeted the world a sneeze under 7lbs each. When I look at the photo I'm sharing, it almost look surreal. That our journey of raising them, and letting them go, at times feels like a bit of a dream.

All these years later they remain as close as they were as children, they have solid friendships they've nurtured since Kindergarten, are both hardworking, very responsible, and have grown and evolved into very good and loving people.  

So I'll officially wish them both the very best on their day & add one very loving caveat. 

Happy Birthday to my wonderful children....That no longer live at home!