THE 6AM SNOW SHUFFLE

Trying to dig out from the overnight 
storm after the plow passed.
DECEMBER 13th, 2024
(Shortly after 6AM)

Yesterday marked more than two weeks since I’d left our house.  

Technically, it was since I had left our yard - but I think you can catch my drift. Which is not be confused with those drifts that have been freshly fallen snow since Snowmageddon 2024 roared into Muskoka on November 28th!

Though we did get a bit of reprieve during those calendar days, because I work from home, I simply stayed home. With each work break including the movement of snow around the yard. The dog trails seemed to occupy the most of my time. But that's the household deal we agreed to. I run the manual shovels and my travel buddy hubby navigates old Bessie our blower.

The snow accumulation was getting to be so much, that we found ourselves going to bed early, so we could clear required snow for the car, and get it the hell up the driveway before the snowplow passed. 

For whatever reason, the eve of Thursday the 12th had me the most concerned with the new storm front that arrived. Our largest dumping came that day, with another 40cm expected overnight. The photo I am sharing above is what we woke up to.

The photo came to fruition because less than a minute before the car was going into reverse, the end of the driveway was filled. The pups and I hauled butt up to the top to assess the situation. There was no way we could push through the bank without damaging the under carriage of the car. So, out came old Bessie to the rescue.

I shoveled most of the morning to clear the doors and decks, as well as widen the dog trails. Old Bessie was back in action at lunch time, when her operator returned home to blow out the remainder - as only the top was cleared before he had to head to work.

My morning photos illustrate a couple of thing that I know to be true. 

The top photo proves to me that this was definitely the one day a year when winter is really pretty.

So, what does photo two (below) illustrate?

...That WINTER FREAKING SUCKS!

Old Bessie doing the 6AM snow shuffle
TAKEN: DECEMBER 13th, 2024

B IS FOR BONFIRE

I have written here several times in the past about the simple fact that I love a great bonfire, as have all of our pups. 

From a very young age, we seriously train our dogs to respect the burning fire with a key word they grow up understanding, which is the word 'danger!'

The word is used in such a tone, when combined with their name, they return to my side immediately. 

So, as expected, we are well on our way to training our new addition; little Katie (who was born December 5th, 2022 - arriving to us January 31, 2023).

This little Blondie is as sharp as a tack and as loveable as a teddy bear.
TAKEN: MARCH 3, 2023

With winter breaking into spring, on the last Friday in March, when I finished work at 4pm then wandered outside and built a killer bonfire. 

Goob came over for dinner and to sip a bevie or two. We watched the sun go down outside and embraced the start of the weekend by listening to our favourite tunes, while basking by the glow of a bonfire.

With full bellies, a cold cooler and a warm fire, I ended up sharing with David that I expect to be working remotely 100% of the time once the lakes open. I told him that I figured I will move my home office out to the cottage as soon as we can put the water on. 

With Katie being born last December, she will be almost six months old when she discovers a couple of very important things about cottage life. 

That when enjoying a bonfire in the off season, there may not be any snow but there will be mosquitos. 

She will learn that just like the other pups, she will be provided her own lawn chair so that she doesn't have to sit on the damp ground at night but her belly will still get bitten.

Oh, and though cottage food may taste better than what is served at the house, the calamine lotion I will be putting on her belly to stop the 'skeeter itch' does not!!

NEVER, UNTIL NOW!

As I shared here last summer, never, have I ever, rushed to replace a pup out of sheer emotion. And though I know you can’t ever replace a dog, when my Puddin’ died of cancer last June, our deep friendship and her beautiful characteristics left a void like no other I have ever experienced. 

With my heart ache not subsiding, about three months after Puddin’ crossed the rainbow bridge, I reached out to our amazing CKC registered breeder that we purchased Miya Maria from - asking her to put me ‘on the list’ for a yellow female should her beloved Minnie have one.

I will be honest, she only breeds one litter a year, so our expectations where that we would have a wait. Then, on December 5^th, I got the call. 

Minnie had in fact had a litter of nine and there were two yellow females available. Now, you may think that we could have passed and waited a couple of years, but that is where this gets truly heart wrenching. 

There had been complications in the night with Minnie’s delivery that included a trip to the emergency vet, the delivery of the nine babes, and a full hysterectomy for our mama: rendering her sterile.

If we wanted the same lineage and an extension of Miya, this would be our only opportunity. My husband and I both immediately agreed, without hesitation, we were buying another dog!

Allow me to introduce the newest member of our puppy pack - KATIE
TAKEN: JANUARY 21st, 2023

When visiting our new girl again yesterday, we were told owners like ourselves had intended to purchase, but for reasons unknown to us have decided against. That said, because our breeder really does only work on a referral basis, I offered to get the word out as there are still a couple of these beauties available.

Now, I caution carefully. You should only reach out if you're looking to have the most amazing pet experience imaginable and for your heart to be filled with puppy love for years to come. 

I can attest first hand that with my husbands health woes last year, Miya truly changed his outlook and for the first time in all the dogs we've had, he has that magical connection I had with Toby, Puddin', and continue to have with my ten year old Annie. 

If you think this is something that may interest you. You can send me a personal message, or hop over to Facebook and check out Labradorables and message Leslie directly. 

Better yet, here's a link: Leslie @ Labradorables 

I promise, you won't be disappointed. 

Oh, and be sure to let her know that the wonderful Katie Lulu sent you!

REMEMBERING 2022

I don’t know about you, but I am happy to shut the door on the past year and look to the coming year with a genuine amount of hope and sincere optimism. 

Personally, it has felt like I have been in mourning for the majority of the year. I didn’t write nearly as much as I had hoped because my heart was absolutely aching with both hurt and despair. Trust me, in spite of my mantra, it hasn't been something I would ever be able to laugh about.

Professionally, after taking the last three months of 2022 off to help my husband heal from a life saving surgery, I started the year with a new career challenge that has proven to be an excellent move for me. As I look toward retirement, I love that I am mentoring and team building with an amazing group of young, very upwardly mobile, professionals. 

With the past year in the rearview, I have great hope for 2023. All the best in the coming year everyone. Cheers, and thanks once again for reading. 

~ Rhondi

PS: For the first time, for my annual 'remembering' post, as I reminisce electronically, you can click links to journal offerings that you may have missed.

PSS: Enjoy!

Most significant moment (centre): The sudden passing of my closest friend and confidant, Brian ‘Smartie’ Smart. Who left us Easter weekend 2022. I am truly heartbroken, and the loss of his presence will be missed forever.

January: A snapshot from the desk of my new job. A refreshing challenge I have loved, to which I said to my boss on our last conversation before the holiday break, "look what you and I have accomplished in our first year. I can't wait to see where we land after our second!" 

(Link: Leapin' Life Balance)

February: Knowing my wonderful Puddin' was living on borrowed time, my husband and I spent Family Day (aka: Family Furbaby Day) at the cottage with 'The Oreo Gang' . It was the beginning of the end of an era. 

(Link: The Oreo Gang)

March: As the carpool picked up Goob to head to work in Port Cariling, the glow of the sunrise lit up the car. I got out of the car to capture this moment. We enjoyed a beautiful month of March.

April: For the first time since November 2019 we were able to travel. We flew into Miami then took a roadtrip to Key West. Smartie called me to wish me a Happy Birthday, and made me promise to go to the Hemmingway house, which I did the very next day. We talked for an hour, said our always call ending 'I love you and I love you too'. He was dead a week later. 

(Link: S is for Smartie)

May: The month saw the beginning of house as well as cottage renovations. Both took until the end of November to complete. Much more to do in 2023.

June: My beautiful Puddin' succumbed to her cancer. She was my very best furbaby friend. Our Annie was so affected by the loss that we had to stop saying her name. My life just isn't the same without her.

July: I surprised my husband with a road trip to the town of Bethel (where the Woodstock Festival was held in 1969) and then through the Catskill Mountains to the town of Woodstock New York for his birthday. For music lovers like us, it was both a moving and Bucket List experience.

August: We had a heat wave that was crazy off the charts producing extreme heat warnings. It was so hot, that we were in the water more than out. We felt like kids again! 

(Link: My Happy Hat)

September: They say everything comes in threes, and I had three that were major for me personally. First Smartie, then Puddin', then lastly my beautiful Auntie Cai. I credit a lot of who I am today to her and her life guidance. I miss her very much and always will. 

(Link: In her memory ~ Sweet Dreams of Cairo)

October: Our third roadtrip had us take our pups on a more than two thousand mile round trip to the Outer Banks of North Carolina. We rented a house that slept twelve on the ocean that was perfect. If you've never been.... GO!

(Link: Outer Banks Paw Patrol)

November: Yours truly celebrated a personal milestone with the 11th Anniversary of my wee electronic journal. In hindsight, maybe I should have named it 'Silly Story Central!?!' #yagottalaughaboutit 

(Link: Eleven Years Young)

December: A photo just can't illustrate the amount of snowfall we received in Muskoka that began the evening of December 23rd. So much so, that the massive dumping felt like we should have been placed in a State of Emergency. The photo in my collage was day two of four that were brutal. 

Link: Our Great Neighbourhood)

THE OREO GANG

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

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

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

Let me backup....

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

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

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

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

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

How that for setting the bar high?!

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

J IS FOR JUKEBOX

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

From the April A-Z Blogging archives.

Originally posted April 11th, 2020.

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 personal 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, Jukebox 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, extremely disciplined, and he has fully embraced music as a craft. 

He is talented. He is extremely talented. Name an instrument, he can play it. 

Keep going Jukebox. 

We know you can accomplish whatever you put your voice and self driven talent behind!

MOOSEKOKA MUSING

Just hanging out at the cottage with my big bad bull Moose. 
TAKEN: SEPTEMBER 2018

I was driving home from work last week and I quickly called one of my closest confidants. I thought I had forgotten to thank them from paying for lunch. 

Once connected via Bluetooth, I was reminded that I had in fact already thanked them for lunch, and they in return thanked me again for listening. What followed was quick and very candid conversation about the makings of a meltdown. 

I can speak from experience when I admit that when I finally submit and actually melt down, the emotional fallout can be nuclear. The bigger tell is that final straw is never usually the root cause,  it's just the particular moment housing my last semblance of personal strength when a cherished trust is broken.

Because most know and read me as a full blown extrovert, you may be surprised to learn that I am actually a very private person. I tend to listen far more than I share, and when I do share, it’s generally about generic life experience rather than anything of a very personal nature.

As a people pleasing lass I can count on one hand the number of lifelong friends I have and I firmly believe I've had more than one soulmate thus far in my lifetime. 

You know, that certain someone you have an immediate connection with the moment you meet and that connection is so strong that you feel you've known them your entire life. You immediately know they're special and meant to be in your life - which describes my aforementioned lunch date perfectly!

Soulmate status update aside, I guess my musing point is that in all my years I have learned that many things come and go. Things like people, possessions, pets as well as my patience for personal and professional politics and shell games. 

Though I have never been one for looking back with regret, I have always tried to forgive myself for not having the foresight to see something bad coming my way. I guess you could say that is one of the systemic problems with my rose coloured glasses I wear with such pride.

Those suckers can make a brown bull moose charging me head on, appear in my favourite shade of red.

Even worse? 

They always seem to have a smile on their face!

#TrueStory #seephotoabove

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!

VAYCAY STAYCAY

Today is the last day of my five day staycation that was spent at the cottage. 

I absolutely love an evening bonfire!
TAKEN: JULY 3rd, 2020

Funny how one forgets how wonderful time off in the summer can be when you you travel three of four times every winter. Not gonna lie, I've missed the sheer simplicity of this.

I've missed the early morning coffee sitting next to the water and evening bonfires listening to my favourite songs. Time here is very structured yet extremely relaxed. I love that if I don't want to wear clothes, I don't!

As I sit here and type it's hard to fathom that his is our 20th summer on Orillia Lake. There have been lots of changes over the years yet most everything is still the same. Most owners have come and gone but life here remains as it was 20 years ago; without young children. 

Speaking of children, there's a young family across from us that have children the ages ours were back when we purchased. Sometimes I find myself watching them and I think of Jukebox and Goob and their buddies spending hours upon hours in the water, coming out only to grab some grub and right back in they'd go.

The picnic table we had for them that could sit a dozen children was cut in half to save space. A couple of years ago we put billets under it. 

This summer we built her out, named her Stella, and added a trolling motor. Only to discover that I regret ever chopping the thing in two.

All of the decks, landings and stairs will be replaced this summer and though we have a shower upstairs, we chose to rebuild the outdoor shower in preparation for our staycay. 

My outdoor shower is right up there with skinny dipping for me. It feels great!

...Just like these last days have.

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!

JUST WEED YOUR GARDEN ALREADY!

There are three sure signs that the Lakes are open in Muskoka...

I no longer wear socks, the trilliums in my backyard are in bloom, and I can clock when certain Business folks tug the string on the little tin can I hold up to my ear. They know who they are and they tug with confidence because they know I'll talk them in off the proverbial ledge they've ultimately talked themselves onto! 

WOOHOO... TRILLIUMS = NO SOCKS UNTIL OCTOBER!
TAKEN: MAY 8th, 2015

Keeping that last thought on the table, let's backup to my lovely trilliums.

Though I don't tend my wild flowers (because they're exactly that) I do have somewhat of a green thumb. I love digging into the soil, getting my hands mucky, & building something. Not only that, I have always found it intriguing to watch all the elements work together as a Team for an amazing result.

A little rain, a little sun, a little TLC from yours truly: all very important elements to the success of any growth cycle. Gardens, just like good people, need to be nurtured and ultimately supported. Any garden (no matter how much you love it) when ignored and left unattended, will face some extremely predictable seasonal challenges. 

Hopefully, most reading will correlate the weeds in any garden to the total idiots that gather around a water cooler and decimate solid coworker moral. They are what I consider to be the heartiest weed; borderline poisonous but no matter how much danger they pose, still permitted to freely inhabit the garden. So much so, that one would almost think that the gardener has an innate fear to pull them out and remove them by their roots. 

Just remember, doing the same thing and expecting different results is futile and a waste of good energy. Those weeds will always be a nuscience and your garden will forever suffer until they are dealt with. Glass half full? A freshly weeded garden may appear a tad sparse at first.... Yet it ultimately thrives in the end.

Just offering my two cents and a caveat that I will give change if need be!

HONEY, I'M HOME!

It's not closed... More emptied.
How perfect was it that the sun came out to greet me as I left?
TAKEN: OCTOBER 11th, 2014

Well, when my husband and I awoke to pouring rain this past Saturday morning; we immediately cut our spooning/catch up session short, to bite the bullet and officially move me home.

You know what? 

Even though I had started packing the week previous, I had no idea the amount of crap that still had to go up the hill. I've always steadfastly held the ground that I am not a pack rat but more than eight trips after the fact, I was still finding stuff that I didn’t want to leave behind.  Don't tell anyone... but it was a little embarrassing. All I kept saying to him was “HOLY SHIT... I honestly had no idea!”

Not because I thought he was mad but because I knew it was something he didn’t want to be doing on his Saturday morning off. So, to help curb the volume of potential whining, I offered he to do the packing of the kitchen while I did the crappy lugging up the fifty five steps. It's mornings like last Saturday that make me realize we really are a pretty amazing Team. 

No one can ever accuse me of making my husband do anything he didn't want to. He’s always been his own person, and over the years I have learned to become mine. After twenty eight years together, we have finally discovered, that even though we have different interests and varying circles of friends, communicating to one and other the wants and needs we both have, make our quality time together pretty amazing.

He really didn’t want me to move to the cottage this summer but I know he’s glad I did. It not only helped us evolve to the next level as a married couple…. But as a the great Team and best of friends we'd somehow lost track of being thanks to everyday life.

Funny how those light bulb moments sneak up on us isn't it?

Downtown In My Little Town...

She may be small... But like ME she's mighty!
TAKEN: Saturday May 24th, 2014

As you know, I live in what some would consider to be a sleepy little town. It’s strategically located somewhere between ‘almost there’ and ‘just passing through’.

Don’t get me wrong, my first name isn't Belle, and the ornate objects in my home don’t unexpectedly burst into song, it's just that where I live epitomizes a quaint Canadian town.

Now that you have that mental image, think of your Aunt Bertha and her last really bad gout flare up.

When the surrounding Lakes here open up, our population easily triples. Just like Bert's gout filled big toe, it can be painful to experience!

Though I've lived here almost my entire life, it's been years since I've observed the influx of seasonal residents when it's occurred. Specifically, because I've always tried to avoided it. Now that I'm back to spending 90% of my awake time in my home office, I find myself downtown every chance I get. I'd forgotten how clean, pretty, and very welcoming it really was.

What's my point? There's a social media page out there looking for suggestions on how to make our Town GREAT again. Not gonna lie, I'm finding it painful to watch things unfold. Though there's a solid core group of people with excellent intentions... Others, not so much. I will admit that I read the posts yet never comment.

Eventually, my hope is that I’ll gently remind those standing in judgement, that just like our seasonal weather, there’s an ebb and flow to owning a seasonal business here. Challenges that only those that have tried and endured truly understand. 

It was with them in mind that I popped in and out of stores up and down the main street this past Saturday. As I enjoyed the downtown of my little town, I could hear a very clear voice in my head saying over and over “...come to me with a solution, not a problem!"

Like any great strategist, I had to analyze and assess. I think it was Betty. Yet, I can’t be sure.

As you may or may not know, Betty's always been one of most reasonable of the fifteen voices that party inside my head. Guess I must have her set on 'default'.

Smile away Peeps & Happy Hump Day!

Pssst… Ya Got Any Rubbers?

I woke up at 4am this morn and hauled my ass out of bed for what turned out to be the rest of the day. Not because I’d had enough sleep, but because my hot flashes seem to have embedded themselves into a pattern of complete and total inconvenience. 

Anyway, it was no surprise, that by mid afternoon I was a great big bitchy zombie that was ready for a nap. Exhausted, I fought back. I got up from my desk, pulled on my rubbers, and headed straight for the gully.

Up to my ankles in gunk & loving it!
Taken: May 5th, 2014

For a million reasons, the silly ravine (just off the back of my yard) takes me back to my childhood. Not that I've ever lived with the luxury of such a haven in my backyard growing up, I just feel like a little kid whenever I venture out.

Where else can a single stick, some running water, and ankle deep mud deliver such an escape? ...Not to mention that it kinda sounds like a Super-dee-Duper fart machine as you tromp around in the sloppy gunk.

I know, I know, my girlfriend told me she suspects my enjoyment in the mud has something to do with some sort of rebellion. She says I'm "perpetuating a behaviour that wasn't deemed acceptable when I was child."

Who knows? Who cares! 

...I've simply labelled it a guilty pleasure.

I understand that some may not deem my behaviour proper. BUT... If you consider my playing in a ravine full of mud, in a pair of bright hot pink rubbers immature... I don't want to share what I'll be doing during the first midday summer downpour on my dock.

I fear THAT guilty pleasure (which I've labelled #482) may throw you over the edge!

She may look nice and dry... But I can assure ya she ain't!
Taken: May 5th, 2014

WOODn’t You Like To Help?!

When it comes to the day to day chores at home, there are only two things that I really hate doing. One is taking out the garbage, and the second is hauling wood. The chore of the garbage will never be a participation sport for me, however, I know I am going to have to kick it up a notch in the hauling wood department.

The first two of our ten cord arrived this morning.
Get me some A535...STAT!
Taken: October 12th, 2013

Oh, the mighty double edged sword... Or shall I say axe?

Once my son started paying rent, he was ambitiously quick to point out that it was exactly that: “Room and Board” not “Room and Chores!” 

Just like our Sunday night suppers, the hauling and piling of wood in the fall, has been a seasonal tradition since we bought our home in 2002.

I really do love the airtight fireplace we have.

I love the warmth the fire offers me on those damp fall days, and cold winter nights.

Yet, I hate the stinking mess it produces! Not to mention, the day to day regiment of keeping it stocked, stoked, and going strong with the flames a flickering.

Ah hell, what the heck am I grumbling for? There's only one thing I love more than my fuzzy socks and painfully ugly off season bathrobe... and that's embracing them both in front of a toasty fire in the fireplace.

Those three simple indulgences right there truly help get me through our harsh Muskoka winters!

Those, and a couple of other tricky tidbits, I'd rather not share just yet.

Because Debi Says So

About a month ago I had a meeting with a really nice couple. They have been married for almost 40 years; he has been CEO of several successful publicly traded companies, and she his beacon. Toward the end of the meeting, her husband excused himself to use the washroom, and his wife decided to share. “Six months ago I thought we were building a cottage” she said. “Now I am being completely uprooted and I am totally lost.” She was visibly upset. 

It turns out that her husband had sold their marital home in the city, and in turn had decided exactly how their future was going to unfold. As she shared her story I was in shock. It was all I could do to remain composed and listen. She was devastated.

Meetings number two and three transpired without her in attendance, and finally the three of us met again this week. All I could do was think about what she’d said the first time we'd met and how she must be feeling. Finding ourselves alone, she once again felt reflective. “What am I going to do? I don’t know anyone in Muskoka” she said. My response was instant and heartfelt.

I really do believe in the power of positive energy
TAKEN: July 22nd, 2013

“Relax Debi” I said. "What do you mean you don't know anyone in Muskoka? You know me now don’t you?" 

As she smiled and nodded, I couldn’t resist myself; "It’s all good" I continued. Consider yourself totally hooked up, because let's face it girlfriend, I know EVERYONE!"

She acknowledged my words, excused herself, and went out to their car. She returned with a small silver sticker. She handed it to me and I immediately gave her a hug. 

As soon as they left, I went to my desk and put that puppy on my monitor as a constant reminder of what karma really is.

As silly as it may sound, this was a significant moment I will remember for a very long time. Thanks Debi!

Pot Of Gold Anyone?

My photo does not do this perfect moment justice.
Taken: May 31, 2013

As I do every Friday, I had planned to golf last night. That said, Mother Nature had a different plan. As a result, I bolted out to the cottage like lightening ahead of The Weather Networks warning of it.

As I poured myself a glass of wine the sky opened and the mother-load hit; I love a good storm, and with no lighting on the radar, I stood in the rain and kept Puddin’ fetching a tennis ball in and out of the lake.

What can I say, Dottie would participate in no such nonsense, so after dinner, it was Dot’s turn for a treat.

...Out we went in her favourite boat that floats.

The lake was like glass. The bugs were at bay, and we were all alone. Peddling along, and singing out loud to my pups, I glanced over to find this breathtaking site.

I instantly began sending it to friends that can relate. People that work with people for a living, and strive every single day to encompass a “glass half full” mindset. One friend instantly responded with the obvious question.

"Did you find the pot of gold?" he asked. "Not yet" I said. "But I feel there's hope."

His response both warmed my heart and made me smile.

"I agree..." was all I read. 

Frick 'n Frack Are Back!

Though she was in a hurry, I did manage to chat with Staci before she left for a typical seasonal Monday night in Muskoka. Yup, Frick 'n Frack and the gang were off to get into mischief. It really is kinda neat that after all these years they're still such a very close group. Public School, High School, Post-Secondary school behind them, their gang is still a pack: Tightly knit and fiercely loyal.

Anyway, after a good night sleep, I awoke and headed down to my office to greet my day. When I logged onto my Facebook, my heart dropped; “Bitch who pushed me off the stage and broke my wrist... f*ck you!!!!”

Frick n' Frack before Grade 9 Spring Formal - My Babies.
Taken: April 2008

I knew they'd taken the bus to The Kee to Bala for Resort Night, but could this be true?

Without a word of a lie, here was my immediate thought process.

1) Holy shit! She’s broken her wrist!

2) Where the hell was David and the Gang?

3) Nice Facebook status update Stacccs; enough with the F-Bombs already!

Seriously? WTF! I have no idea where she gets it?! I'm pretty sure it's her father but the jury is still out.

Joking aside, one sling and a cast later, here's the story. It turns out Frick was being accosted (punched in the face repeatedly) on the dancefloor. Frack decided that Frick needed her uncondtional "you can't punch my brother in the face" support and stepped in. As Frick caught his bearings, Frack stepped back. Pushed from behind, my Sweetie (I mean Frack) landed with all her weight on her wrist on the concrete floor five feet below. 

Was there alcohol involved? Were there Police involved? Was a lesson learned? Has it been discussed? The answer to all of the above is yes. What can I say? Frick 'n Frack are back for the summer and the game has changed. Glass half full? We can finally discuss all of these life changing things as adults. 

For the record? She really was very brave. Just sayin'

Oh Those Mike's Milk Days!

So yesterday I was atop the "blah, blah, blah gotta keep moving forward" soapbox and what the hell do I go and do this morning? Climbed into an old High School scrapbook. Where did that find me in an instant? The past! Geeesh, I'm such a Rhondi!

Mike Milk on Manitoba Street
Taken:1982-83ish

As you can imagine my walk down memory lane quickly drifted from my hairstyle and instantly focused on all the young people in my photos. 

Because a lot of them are on my Facebook, I scanned and sent out personal copies. Rhett, Henik, Mike, Allen H and Connie all received copies. Tom, Tim and Allan R have since passed so I just admired those ones fondly.

One person that was a big part
of my High School experience
(to which I have absolutely no idea whatever happened to him) was Andy. 

First and foremost I have to start by saying that the one thing I remember most about Andy was that he hated my mother with a passion and she knew it. Why? Because she felt exactly the same way about him!

Andy R. Working the same shift (as we usually did)
Taken: 1982-83ish

Andy & I met outside the Mike's Milk store on Baysville Rd the first week he moved to town. I remember the day, it was the August before I went into Grade 10. 

We became instant friends and continued working together in the two local stores until the summer I graduated from High School.

I never dated him, because let's face it, I wasn’t allowed. In hindsight though, that's probably why he chased me so hard after high school. Just to piss my mother off! 

Actually, if I remember correctly, we never really connected in that way. Every once and a while throughout 1984 we’d go to the edge but there just wasn’t a single stitch of natural chemistry. Besides, we were best friends, and the thought of it was just really kind of weird. It's a long time ago but I think the friendship came to a close when I started dating Tim. I had dated by now, but Tim was my first true love, and first really serious boyfriend. He was five years my senior.

You know, Andy hasn't crossed my mind in decades, yet I think of Tim all the time. 

We'd never lost touch. In fact, I had chatted with him for about an hour in the grocery store, just three weeks before he passed. I stopped by his grave last spring because some days I find it hard to process that he's gone. Once again proving that life is short.

That said, if anyone happens to run into Andy feel free to tell him I say hello. Oh, and don't forget to mention "that my mother was  REALLY glad the day he left town." I'll bet you fifty bucks he holds his middle finger up to the sky which will immediately be followed by some very severe profanity.

Seriously... She and he shared a strong outspoken bond that way!

Let's just say I completely understand why my
mother never liked him!
Taken: 1984