G IS FOR GRANDPARENTS

 

Seen here with my dads parents, my truly amazing grandparents.

My Mommy knit my sweater. I LOVED that purple thing.
This photo confirms that I was clearly born to be a Prince fan!
TAKEN: Spring 1973

I was born in a very small town, just across the Ontario border, in western Quebec. 

It was a small pulp and paper town, where the majority of my extended family grew up. More importantly, it was where both sets of my parents parents lived only a few miles apart.

I had a great childhood. With such vivid memories imbedded in my head before we moved to Ontario. Oh the wonderful memories I have of 222 2nd Avenue.

Spending time in the lane with my Pepere as chickadees landed on his hat and then he ultimately had them eating from his hand. Him teaching me to stepdance as he played from a fiddle he had in fact crafted himself. 

And that my Memere, always let me stand by her side at the stove explaining her process for what she was making. Her letting me shake the flour mixture to help her make gravy stands out the most. 

So much so,  that every time I watch my mother-in-law embrace the same process, my childhood in that kitchen comes rushing back to me.

Let's face it. I know those things may read as simple, but their love was heartfelt and I think they are one of the reasons that I have never had issue showing affection as an adult. 

I suppose there is a possibility they were just pacifying a gregarious kid - but if that was the case, they never let on. 

And for that... I have always been truly grateful.

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!

A IS FOR AMBITION

'JUST SHOW UP EACH AND EVERYDAY' ~ W.J. Schneider
DOT's PIC TAKEN: March 31st, 2014

From the April A-Z Blogging archives.

This was originally posted on April 1st, 2014.

Just so we’re clear...

I’m not talking about the kind of ambition it takes to get the hell out of bed the morning, after you and your best girl friend decided to solve World Peace until the break of dawn on the cottage dock. I'm talking about your internal drive that literally comes from within.

You know, the passion and desire to always keep growing, which in turn has you moving forward and never giving up. The kind of ambition that's really easy to talk about and extremely hard to replicate.

Example: Just look at my dog Dot...

Not even remotely a hope in hell of catching the snowball that she's set her sights on but never once did she not try her very best. 

I guess you can say she trusted the process to reward her, which in her case, (with my shares in Purina Milk-Bone) it always has. 

I am ambitious like Dot, yet she and I differ. You see, I am more an analyst and somewhat a tactician. 

I'm sure it's because I am goal oriented but most of all, I am certain it's because I truly enjoy working toward something great.

What can I say? One post down and twenty six to go. Thank you so very much for having the ambition to finish reading my very first of this challenge.

Dot and I (and the next twenty five letters of the alphabet) are truly grateful that you're reading!

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!

PET-HOUSE FORUM

There’s no easy way to admit that I feel like this post is going to start like 99% of all Penthouse Forum letters ever published; with a statement admitting, ‘I never thought anything like this could ever happen to me!’

As you know, when our nest emptied, the dogs pretty much inherited our focus.

They sleep with us, travel with us, and share every single meal I eat.

I actually talk to them as if they’re humans, and trust me, they listen better than the majority of the coworkers I’ve had in the last decade.

Anyway, no matter what the time of year, Saturday has always been their day. From the time we wake up, they get the majority of our words and effort, which I recently discovered isn’t a good thing.

This past weekend was a busy one. We helped family move on Saturday and we had the fundraiser for our buddy Duncan on Saturday night. The day started early and ended in the early hours of the following morning.

My point isn’t that I managed to stay up past my regular 10pm bedtime, more about what the consequences look like for skipping a Saturday doggie day.

Three guesses whom chewed my $100+ handbag! No names please. Annie!!
TAKEN: MARCH 8th, 2020

So I must say, I think the March 7th chewing fiasco was the result of one of the following items:

1. Annie is truly being a BFF in that the pattern of the purse was really quite hideous and she was saving me from any further fashion embarrassment.
2. The handbag just happened to fall into her "favourite flavour" category, kinda like any potato chip for me (which in future I will avoid purchasing her any Nine West offerings).
OR
3. People have been feeding her dog treats through the open window in the Wal-Mart parking lot on Saturdays, and she was simply jonesing, in need of a fix.
(ie: Purse handles... The NEW beef jerky for dogs!)

Either way, I must admit. 'I never thought anything like this could ever happen to me!’ 

#yagottalaughaboutit

MY CANINE SUMMER SHIFT

Well, I woke up at 7am this morning, poured myself a hot cup of java, then packed the majority of my crap and moved back into town mid morning. 

It wasn’t my general intention when I went to bed last night, but I think I woke a tad panicked that I would come home to certain stresses at dawn tomorrow morning. 

The good news is I didn’t. I’d done all the laundry at the cottage Saturday & Sunday morning, and aside from the lawn needing to be mowed, all my other chores were done and the house clean.

I don’t know about you but I hate a mess. I hate unnecessary clutter, but most importantly, I hate if you walk into my home or cottage and you know I have dogs... Aside from the fact that they’ll drive you crazy with their incessant barking to announce the importance of your very formal arrival. 

Which brings me to my point. I haven’t written here about losing my beloved Spottie Dottie this summer. Truth is, it’s still too raw. What I will admit, is that I never realized how much work three dogs were, until I only had to tend to two.

My Dot never had an issue with the sound of a camera. RIP ole girl.
TAKEN: 2007-2019

The other thing that is hard to admit is how much dysfunction I enabled having an elder dog in long term palliative care.

Eight weeks after putting Dot out of her misery, the realization that she suffered far more than she needed to, and her mood swings (due to her cancer) took a serious toll on everyone, including both my other pups.

That said, I always knew that Puddin’ and Annie would thrive as a pack of two. If not for the likeness of their temperament, then for the unconditional acceptance of the life we have made for them. 

For the last couple of years, Dottie made Puddin’s life a living hell. Simply because she could.

I have spent the past couple of months focused on reprogramming her, yet she still feels the need to be in a constant state of submission because Dot needed to remain in charge until her death.

Anyway, about a month after we buried Dot, my boss cheerfully asked me, “when are you getting another dog?” My response was a quick and very pointed, “I’M NOT!”

The old adages of “once bitten twice shy or three’s a crowd,” immediately came to mind. Like other things in my past, I have no desire to EVER take that journey again. 

Instead, I will just bask in the memories I have of my three and be grateful my boss lets me dog sit his Golden Retriever, Charlie (lower left). Yup, our Charlie only has two angels to lead not three, 

After just spending his first weekend with us since Dottie parted, I'd say it suited him just fine!

V IS FOR VARIANT

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

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!

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.

P IS FOR PUDDIN'

How did my yellow lab get her name?
When I brought her home, my first thought was she was the colour of butterscotch pudding!
TAKEN: 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018

F IS FOR FOCUS

How many chicken wieners does it take to get them to focus? 
Four dozen a week!
(l-r: Charile, Dottie, Puddin', and Annie)
TAKEN: FRIDAY APRIL 6th, 2018

C IS FOR CARPOOL CHARLIE

As my regular readers know, I am social media junkie that's rockin' a small Canadian town, absolutely love where I work, and what I do for a living.  So as an added bonus, I was  flattered last fall when my boss asked me out if I would entertain helping him out by keeping his dog (our company mascot) for the weekend. I instantly said yes!

Charlie never complained once about the carpool chit-chat.
TAKEN: APRIL 3rd, 2018

Periodically since our first canine sleepover, his pup has returned to visit my pack of three, as well visited me at the office, continually reinforcing just how 'swell a pals' we truly are.

Then, late yesterday afternoon, after careful planning, Charlie hopped in the carpool car and landed at the house for a week long sleepover. 

Just like I always have, I brought him back to the office today, so that my pups could watch us leaving and arriving together for a second day, which seems to easily solidify he's in fact a part of the pack.

Just before 7am this morning, for the better part of a kilometer, he ran circles around me, chased a red squirrel on a neighbours lawn exuded the kind of energy I remember having in my 20's. 

He enthusiastically hopped in the car, rode to the office, & stayed by my side the entire day.

As 'Hallmark' a picture as that may paint, the truth of the matter is he knows I keep cookies in the upper cupboard of my office.... and for some strange reason sleeps all day at my feet; which just happens to be next to the cabinet where my lunch bag is stored.

Story of my life. They tell me my mom had to tie pork chops around my ears so the dog would play with me.

… And I thought I had greasy hair as a kid because of overactive sebaceous glands!

#yagottalaughaboutit

MY GREATEST LOVE OF ALL

It rained here all day Saturday. And, because my car was going to be in the shop until Tuesday, I couldn’t get the pups to the cottage for Thanksgiving weekend. Instead, I decided to do my chores at the house and stay in town.

Stir crazy from the rain in the afternoon, I decided to go hunting for the glasses I collect. My first stop was the Habitat Re-Store. When I got skunked there, I headed to the Salvation Army Thrift Store. Again, nothing on my Petro Canada glass hunt but I managed to get magnetically drawn into their used book section. I love browsing used books. I've always felt previously read books are on an individual journey each having their own story of lives they've influenced.

Thanks Sally Anne!
TAKEN: OCTBER 7th, 2017

Anyway, standing in front of hundreds of books, I began to search for the author I have read and collected since before I got married. 

Though I do read a wide variety of books I tend to find a comfort in her simplistic approach to stories. Fluff is a strong word but because I'm realistic; I'll admit they're always very formulaic & served with a large side order of fluff... and I'm OK with that.

Browsing the thrift store bookshelves Saturday, I hit the proverbial hard cover jackpot. A section dedicated to her, grouped together just waiting for me.

 I pulled up a chair and stared at them in awe. I drug my finger across the spine of each one to read the titles and pick which I wanted to entertain first. I grabbed one I'd never read but had always been drawn to its title. (She'd penned it in 1991.)

As I opened the book, my heart skipped a beat. I know this is going to read a tad corny but just like my GPS, every so often I believe the universe tends to send me directions. This was one of those moments. Once I curtailed my awe, I slammed the book shut and cradled it in my arm and started opening every other one of her books. None of them contained the note I had found in the first one I picked up. For me, the moment seemed special. Who was sending me this sign?

The common sense side of my brain told me that it was one of the elderly volunteers trying to increase used books sales, yet my imagination began to swirl with the idea that it was meant for me. Why this author? Why this book? Why me? How could I leave it for another?

A couple of days later, I still think it's neat. That said, if it really was only Gert in the back, watching and giggling as I stood there convincing myself this was a sign for me...?

All I'll say is, well played Gertrude. Well fecking played. You're a thrift store genius.

...Because I bought the well marketed book!