STORMY WEATHER REFLECTIONS

Only once, in all of our holiday travels, have I been scared. 

We had arrived in Mazatlán, Sinaloa, Mexico, and in the middle of our first night and for the entire second day, an unexpected storm causing a flash flood ensued. We were hunkered down in our room, completely blindsided and pretty much gobsmacked at what was swirling around us.

By the time the sun rose, the pools at our large resort were overflowing, the roads in and out of the 1000+ room hotel were washed out. We were officially stranded.

This, in a lot of ways, is how both my travel buddy hubby and I have felt the last five weeks since his accident. And what we did then, is what we are doing now. 

Grabbing on for dear life, keeping the other safe, inserting a ton of humour into the situation; while exploring everything as much as we possibly can.

Rhondi Rule #506: When caught in stormy weather
... Just go with it!

Top Photo: The night before the storm hit
TAKEN: November 27th, 2019

Lower Photo: Just hubby and me on the beach !!
(Mid afternoon during the storm)
TAKEN: NOVEMBER 28th, 2019

My personal struggle in both situations, is that I have an extreme fear of the unknown. As a result, in my current state I am not sleeping as I should because my mind simply won't shut off. To compound things, I work from home, and my husband is housebound here as well. 

The truth of the matter is that we are both going stir crazy. Only being able to access two of our three floors, our living quarters are close. So, today on my lunch break, we began watching travel videos on YouTube. Not because there will be any travel in our future but because we are of the mindset that we will never say never.

On a more comical positive front, this morning we both laughed a hearty belly laugh as I cracked my first joke with regards to our situation at hand. I know we will be A-OK, because he also laughed then commented...

'Here we go', he said.  Already starting with the stroke jokes!!'

#yagottalaughaboutit

C IS FOR CANDID

A couple of weeks ago I saw this meme floating around the social media platforms and it truly resonated. It was just a picture titled the truth in me, so I must assume the author is unknown.

I have no desire to fit in.

No plans to walk with the crowds.

I have my own mind, heart and soul.

I am me and it has taken me years to realize how important that is.

No matter who you are, you can't be more candid that that. Life is simply too short to worry about what others think; and I don't.

Now when it comes to my dogs? That's another story.

The truth is my goal in life is to always be the person my dogs already think I am!

Big day. Taking Miya Maria to meet her new sister Katie Lulu.
TAKEN: JANUARY 23rd, 2023

A SERIOUS DRY SPELL

No matter what they look like, or where they are found, they're all truly appreciated.
(On the left, never used. The right, death by dishwasher.)
Left TAKEN: NOVEMBER 15th, 2021
Right TAKEN: NOVEMBER 19th, 2022

As you know, the term 'dry spell' usually references a type of drought (weather wise or even sexually). You know, a drawn out period of sorts.  So it is with great angst that I post that I am still recovering from my very own dry spell. 

Neither of which I just referenced, yet one ten times more serious, personally. I'm not joking. Can you believe that I just went a span of three hundred and seventy days (that's 3-7-0) without finding any of my beloved Petro Canada glasses? 

So, now that I am somewhat rehydrated and on the road to recovery, I am alerting the freaking electronic journal masses!

As I began to write today, I tried to remember when it was, after my dad died, that my husband found my very first glass. I know it was a loner, and it was from a Habitat Restore in an adjacent town. I would bet money that is was the spring of 2007.

I'm not exaggerating when I share that I remember how excited I was when he text me a photo with the caption 'look what I just found'. Also, that it was in that moment I realized if there was one, there had to be more; and my great journey began.

I could say I am embarrassed, yet I am in fact quite proud to admit that I have acquired glasses as far south as Toronto and as far north as North Bay. I am also proud to disclose that I have accumulated more than two hundred of these gems. All specifically the water goblet as shown above.

I need to go back and label all the post I have written so they appear when I am reflecting like I am today and go searching. That said, one of the most painful posts that reads light hearted, was posted Boxing Day 2014. 

Though not specifically shared in the post, our immediate family was estranged from our daughter. All because her mentally abusive and controlling boyfriend made her pick between him and her family, and we drew the short straw. 

A truly terrible time all around, I wrote 'Had A Drink With My Dad' about how I envision my day would have been spent, had my dad still been alive to spend the holidays with us. 

On that note, I guess you could say if it takes a village to raise a child, it also takes... A really strong readership and killer group of kickass Facebook friends, who've helped this cat collect some silly and outdated glasses for the purpose of being stored in bubble wrap.

So, thank you. All of you are a part of my ongoing journey.

P IS FOR PARADISE

From the April A-Z Blogging archives
This was originally posted April 19th, 2016

One of the field supervisors cheerfully wandered into my office this morning, and after we finished talking business, he asked how my recent trip to Mexico went. Though I quickly acknowledged it was amazing, I instantly pointed to my second computer monitor to show him the pic I am posting of where I am headed at the end of November.

I could tell by the look on his face that he was a tad surprised that I’d just gotten home and that I was already mentally packing my suitcase again. I explained that I’d come across renting this house  before we'd ever left for Sayulita and expanded on why (when it comes to life & travel) my timeline for adventure has a true sense of urgency.

“My mother passed away when she was 57,” I said, "...and it’s like I'm in a competition with myself to experience as many destinations as I can in the next few years; just in case.” He immediately nodded and told me that he understood.

The beachfront at our rental home in Elbow Cay, Abocos, Bahamas.
(Photo credit & rental heads up to my very good buddy JCW)
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 2015

So, it’s official. The last week of November we’re heading to Elbow Cay, Abocos, Bahamas.  I really wanted to wait to decide, in hopes I could score a really great price on 10 days in Aruba (but it was my husbands turn to pick, so off we go).

I’d be lying if I wrote that my deep yearning to head to Aruba was just for the stamp in my passport. Though that’s definitely part of it, when I was young my parents always said 'when they took their first trip to an island paradise, they'd be walking on the white sands in Aruba.' Suffice is to say my mother was gone before they ever had the chance to take that trip.

Who knows, here's hoping I'll get to take them both with me in spirit next year.

REMEMBERING 2020

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

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

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

TAKEN: Throughout 2020

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TINY BUBBLES

My electronic journal found some bizarre inspiration this morning. 

It was when the vinyl record player that is my mind kept hearing the classic 1966 Don Ho lounge lizard tune: Tiny Bubbles . (The song title is a link for those that have yet to have the pleasure.)

Now I'm sure we can all agree my chosen isn't a festive holiday tune, nor a track that plays into the whole 'reason for the season' vibe. Let's face it, as we crawl toward the end of a year so annoying it continually tripped over itself (twenty-twenty), a song about tiny bubbles within a lockdown mandate shouldn't be considered unfathomable.

My tiny bubble. Featuring my amazing Fab Five!
TAKEN: DECEMBER 25th, 2020

Now, not being one to pet a cat backward just to prove I can, nor jump off the bridge downtown simply because I live in a town that has one with a cool brace over it, I would like to disclose that  months ago I decided to invested in understanding why we were being asked to live in a 'bubble' and what it actually meant. 

As a result, since being told to 'assume the position', I have not waivered from the general directive. All guidelines have been respected. All internet trolls looking to stir shit for the sake of having their voice amplified when they normally wouldn't, were heard.

At the end of the day, it's really hard to believe that it has been over nine months since everything became so hateful and unnecessarily divided. Even amongst my bubble featured here, we have agreed to disagree - leaving certain subjects abandoned and all opinions respected on every occasion.

One subject never abandoned? My obsession with taking their picture.

As a mother, I've I known for many years they hate posing and having me take their photo. I know they don't really want me to, yet cordially comply because they understand (in the end) it may be extremely important... To someone else. 

Thus making my photo taking philosophy the perfect mantra for what will make 2021 tolerable for all. 

In a nutshell? Take the high road and always play nice. 

Just like those in my tiny bubble do every time an impromptu photo op awkwardly presents itself!

B IS FOR BIRTHDAY

Happy Birthday to ME.
TAKEN: APRIL 1982

Well, it’s that time of year again. 

You know, when your special day rolls around on the calendar to remind you that you're one step closer to support hose, dentures, and really long afternoon naps!

I may be turning older this month, but this year the day will be considerably different than my last. I had a great birthday last year (probably one of the best ever) but my mindset wasn’t as good as it is this year. Like I always say, change is good.

As busy as I am, I know my day will come and go. I'm hopeful the odd person will wish me all the best, I’ll be grateful, I always am.

There will not be a cake. No gifts will be given. I’ll look in the mirror, thank God I am alive, and pray in the coming year I don’t fall and break a hip.

Anyway, because I've never really celebrated my birthday, there are very few pictures marking the specific day. The photo I am sharing was taken thirty something years ago next week. 

The cake and photo were courtesy of my favourite cousin Joanne, and the pic was snapped at their kitchen counter in North Bay. I remember that very day, it was a Saturday. I remember I was happy and it was a very happy time in my life. 

All of that said, the fact that it’s my birthday month means I get to do my math any way I choose...

This year, I'll be one very happy 29 year old!!

COLOUR MY WORLD

Have you ever heard the saying, ‘your best laid plans never hatch?’

You see, I was supposed to go see Chicago (the band) Friday night but folded like a lawn chair because I just didn’t have any fuel left in my tank.

Though my plans had been in place before my birthday trip to New York, I had no idea my precious Toronto Raptors would win the NBA title, keeping me up until 2am and have me sitting at my desk less than six hours later.

So, I abandoned the tickets but managed to keep my end of day hair appointment.

My plan was to simply pop in for a trim, but when I sat in the chair & spied myself in the mirror, I instantly knew I needed some sort of a change.

Truth is, in the moment I wished I could instantly drop 20lbs & be 21 again; but changing my hair colour seemed like an excellent starting point at 4pm on a quiet Friday afternoon.

Excited that my rainy day photo wasn't a selfie...
TAKEN: JUNE 15th, 2019

Change. Such a big word.

As I sit here and type, I know one thing to be true. I’m not looking toward any type of change to be able cope, rather because I need to shift and move in a different direction.

Now, don’t for a minute imagine that I’m stupid enough to think that a few highlights in my hair are going to somehow verbalize that a new Sheriff's landed in town and things are gonna change... Rather, I guess I’m hoping this small tweak might give me a wee bit more confidence, to start saying DON'T when I need to.

My rant complete, my biggest regret is that I need to make up for missing an amazing show Friday night with another road trip. So, as I listen to Chicago II cranked on vinyl, I realize that not only do they ‘Colour My World’, my kick-ass hairdresser does too!

The moral of my story? If it doesn’t make you feel fabulous; don’t do it, don’t buy it, don’t wear it, don’t eat it, don’t keep it.

Much easier said, than done.

...If I do say so myself!

Y IS FOR YEARNING

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

X IS FOR X-AMPLE

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

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!

PLAYA DEL KARMA

Yesterday, I got on a bus. Not a coach bus like Greyhound provides, nor something as posh as the TTC offers in downtown Toronto; instead I took the Mexican Transit. Essentially a Volkswagen mini-van that seated about 12, desperately needed brakes, and drove at a minimum highway speed of about 100 miles an hour. I knew the moment I got on I was in for an adventure.

As I stood at the side of the six lane highway awaiting my Chariot from hell, I couldn’t help but look at the directional sign in front of me. I didn’t read the words per say, more absorbed what the symbols on the sign meant to me specifically in that moment.

Awaiting my Chariot.
TAKEN: DECEMBER 3rd, 2016

Do I turn around and go back? If I do, will I regret it?

Do I wait a little longer in hopes of continuing on the path I have chosen?

Or, do I just pull out my credit card, take the taxi behind me, in hopes of finding what I need faster? 

In the end, good ole predictable me kept my feet planted, stayed my course, and board the mini-bus.

That said, I’m not sure what you believe, but I most certainly believe in karma. I wholeheartedly believe that if I look you in the eye and smile I have close to an 100% chance you will look back at me and smile. I also believe in the tone of my voice. When genuinely speaking to someone, my tone shows that I am first and foremost, a caring person. If you get something outside of that, I am simply reciprocating the karma vibe I'm receiving.

Yesterday, karma was my friend. Not one of the peeps on that bus spoke English. Not only that, no one had time for a ridiculous Canadian tourist. But the look in my eyes and the tone of my voice had others helping me. I made it safely to my destination and back with the help of bus load of hard working Mexican people that probably didn't earn the price tag of my trip in a year. I was truly grateful.

Now, if I could only get some of the shit heads that are lucky enough to be in my life to get on board with this simple philosophy… Life would be absolutely grand!

MY SUMMER OF OFFICIAL CHANGE

So much changed for us when this summer was over.
TAKEN: AUGUST 2007

The photo I am sharing popped up as a Facebook memory this past week with a heading that read: 9 Years Ago Today.

I am honest when I admit that in that moment, I fixated on my screen with a weird sense of disbelief. I didn’t share it that morn, rather just looked back at that particular Facebook photo album from that really great family day.

By the time I headed home, the humidex told me that I was going to bolt through town and sleep at the cottage for the night. It was so warm outside that I actually stayed on the dock until dusk. 

As I sat there with the pups, I could hear a gaggle of kids enjoying the new slide their parents had purchased at the start of this cottage season. I could hear the radio playing in the background and the one young lad singing confidently, just the way my children and their visiting friends use to. I immediately daydreamt about just how much I miss my kids coming out here and the year-round fun we’d had since buying the place in 1999.

In the midst of that moment, I took a picture of Annie lovingly listening to the kids playing. Her expression told me that she wished she could be across the lake playing too. So, when I got up this morning, I proceeded to edit the photo only to wonder when the last summer was the kids let me measure their annual height on the door jamb in the downstairs bedroom.

Imagine my surprise when the tallest height read “GOOB 2007”.  Smiling, I immediately ran my index finger to the bottom to find the very first entry. The smallest height reads ‘SWEETIE 2000”. As a matter a fact, she and Jukebox had less than 1” in height difference on that very first measure. The summer of 2007 wasn’t only the last time the measuring took place; it was the very last summer we spent vacation time as a whole family at the cottage.

With all 3 having summer jobs and me working most weekends with my business, I am realizing for the first time this week, that it was that summer in which they'd evolved and began their official transition. From that September, I traveled with them for sports, took them into the city for concerts with friends, but the family oriented times became fewer and farther between. The only constant we managed to keep was our ‘Sunday Suppers’ which only happened because I made it a house rule that everyone be home by 4pm each and every Sunday. 

You know what? As I wandered around the cottage in between typing breaks today, I realized that I have a large plaque on the wall outside the boys bedroom that is titled ‘Life’s Little Instructions’. It offers 53 points of worldly advice. It starts with sing in the shower and ends with #53 stating to call your Mother.

If there’s one thing I can be grateful for (almost 10 years later) it's that they all willingly embrace my phone number. Which is emotional to admit... 

Has not always been the case.

P IS FOR PARADISE

One of the field supervisors cheerfully wandered into my office this morning, and after we finished talking business, he asked how my recent trip to Mexico went. Though I quickly acknowledged it was amazing, I instantly pointed to my second computer monitor to show him the pic I am posting of where I am headed at the end of November.

I could tell by the look on his face that he was a tad surprised that I’d just gotten home and that I was already mentally packing my suitcase again. I explained that I’d come across renting this house  before we'd ever left for Sayulita and expanded on why (when it comes to life & travel) my timeline for adventure has a true sense of urgency.

“My mother passed away when she was 57,” I said; "...and it’s like I'm in a competition with myself to experience as many destinations as I can in the next few years; just in case.” He immediately nodded and told me that he understood.

The beachfront at our rental home in Elbow Cay, Abocos, Bahamas.
(Photo credit & rental heads up to my very good buddy JCW)
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 2015

So, it’s official. The last week of November we’re heading to Elbow Cay, Abocos, Bahamas.  I really wanted to wait to decide, in hopes I could score a really great price on 10 days in Aruba (but it was my husbands turn to pick, so off we go).

I’d be lying if I wrote that my deep yearning to head to Aruba was just for the stamp in my passport. Though that’s definitely part of it, when I was young my parents always said 'when they took their first trip to an island paradise, they'd be walking on the white sands in Aruba.' Suffice is to say my mother was gone before they ever had the chance to take that trip.

Who knows, here's hoping I'll get to take them both with me in spirit next year.

J IS FOR JOURNEY

At this stage of my life, I am a firm believer 'your only impossible journey is the one you've never attempted to take.' I'm sure that's my inner entrepreneurial spirit lashing out but as my nest emptied I continually reminded myself that in mid-life there wouldn't be an adventure I'd not entertain. 

Before I get ahead of myself, I feel I should admit that I am anything but a daredevil. As a matter a fact there are two things I am truly afraid of: the dark and the unknown. So, you can imagine my conundrum of inner turmoil, once I mentally convinced myself that it was time to hop on the new adventure bandwagon!

My personal Facebook cover photo last September...  GREAT adventure thus far!

I'm not going to lie. I was filled with mixed emotions when we moved the twins away to school on Labour Day weekend of of 2011. I had such angst that they were leaving, yet excited for what that meant for my newfound personal journey. As the late summer turned to fall, it quickly became apparent that I was completely alone, and my road to self-discovery didn't include a GPS nor a much needed flashlight. 

So, on a teary 2011 November night, I started this electronic journal. I'm so thankful that I've had people with me since its inception, and equally grateful for those that only stop by once in a while. The truth of the matter is, today you're reading my 600th post. 

The absolute truth is this journal journey has helped me process more life lessons than any appearance on Dr.Phil, with my plight starring in the last 600 episodes. So, as I continue to evolve and figure things out on the fly, I'd like to say those three special words, that are not only called for on this milestone day but most appropriate here tonight. 

...Thanks for reading!

TODAY, WE REMEMBER BLAIR

It's a given that most people think of today as St. Patricks Day. I suppose until 2011, I did too. 

It just so happens that 5 years ago today, one of the great ones answered their call and as a result my friend Blair McLaren passed away. 

I know that name won’t specifically resonate with the majority of my readers but trust me when I write that he was a very well respected businessman. Though not where his career would end, when I was growing up, he and his wife owned the local sporting goods store affectionately known as McLaren Sports.

Myself & Blairs' daughter Sarah. Happy to be able to still call her my friend.
TAKEN: APRIL 1983

If I close my eyes, I can remember the day I sat in their store and he outlined my feet for a custom made pair of John Kenbli skates. I was so excited that I was floating, and of course my mother was being my mother.

I remember the ordeal as embarrassing and I distinctly remember the conversation as generally uncomfortable. He explained the manufacturing process and expected lead time for delivery. Then, they talked about why the price was the price. 

As he answered all of her questions, in an nano-second he earned her complete and unconditional trust. He promised never to disclose to my father the money she’d spent in his store on my fateful day; and he never did. 

Over time, teaching their daughters to skate, led me to babysitting for he and his wife. I also remember it was the end of an era when they closed the store to focus on building a corporate family business ~ aptly named McLaren Press. 

What his wife and girls don't know is that 20 years later, when I opened IDP Muskoka in 2004, Blair and his brother Scott were one of my very first calls. After all, every new marketing agency with a solid business plan, needs a great trade printer. I remember the meeting. 

It started with Scott (whom lived across the street from me at the time) then he called in Blair. Much to my surprise, the two of them made me an offer to join their team 24 hours later. Though I declined, Blair always remembered the fire in my belly and my overall vision. He was truly the first successful man that supported the concept of women leading in business.

Even with life being as busy as it was, no matter when I ran into him, he never hesitated to stop and ask me how I was doing. Never rushed nor forced. He was always genuine and very happy for me.

Musings aside, the funny thing is that all these years later, I still have those skates. Matter a fact I cherish them. Always have. Always will. 

So, tonight, I ask you to raise your green beer, glass of wine, or a glass of water to Blair.

Loving husband, wonderful father, grandfather, employer, friend. He may be gone but most definitely will never be forgotten.

Cheers, Blair...Thanks for the memories.

IS IT TIME TO SINK OR SWIM?

Don’t you find it interesting that the majority of our conversations begin with a mention that leads to a discussion about the weather? Perhaps I notice it more than most, because where I come from,  the weather influences everything from your mood to your ability to earn a year round living.

Keeping that in mind, as I was telling my BEF (best electronic friend) how excited I am that spring had sprung, they in turn commented that Muskoka still looked like a frozen tundra. I didn’t want to ask them if they were sniffing glue but I’m not gonna lie, thank goodness I have a filter because that very thought immediately entered my head. Frozen tundra? For crying out loud, the ice is sinking!

So, with that as our carpool chit-chat topic for the ride home, I asked the Sweeny-Meister to pull over so that I could hold up my phone to prove to the electronic naysayer that spring was most certainly here. She did, I clicked away, then immediately sent my pics. Then, when I got home, I downloaded them onto my office hard drive and this particular photo really resonated with me.

This bridge is the prettiest thing left at the old Tamwood Lodge site
 ~ on Lake Muskoka
TAKEN: MARCH 10th, 2016

When I spied this photo, I couldn't help but focus on the bridge. My point was to prove the ice was melting, yet I couldn't help but wonder... 'Is the bridge at her limit, or is she stronger than ever?'

My glass half empty tells me she's cooked. My glass half full has a much different opinion which is probably why I was reflective. 

My glass half full knows what she's been though and that she's fought very hard for herself these last 5 years. In the midst of a lot of change happening, she still remains firmly in place. Can she hang in there and endure the lakes opening one more time? Does she really even want to hang on? Or, would she rather give up and let it all go?

Just like any strong woman, only she knows those answers. For what it's worth, I think she's experienced the worst of what she's been handed & she should hope for the best as the seasons change once again.

Afterall, though she stands alone, she represents the end of a beautiful time in Muskoka.

NO HUGS REQUIRED!

Well, this past week signified the week that I would have normally gotten on a plane, had I not already been away the first week of December and am booked to head out again the first week of April. 

This time last year, I had regrets when our American friends headed out of the snow drifts of Wisconsin without us but this year I could have sworn I felt differently. Though I'm genuinely sad that I didn’t wake up this week on a beach in Jamaica (to relax and ring in my girlfriends 40th birthday) I had to be realistic; there's only so much time and less than that left in the budget. Even understanding those two critical factors, from the moment their Facebook page alerted me that they’d boarded their flight, I immediately longed to return, for a third time since 2012, to Jamaica.

As silly as this may read, I realized this past week, that I discovered myself in Negril. When I type that, I should clarify that I don’t care who you are, nothing prepares you for mid-life. Never once did anyone ever warn, nor offer me the proverbial handbook, of what to do with my time and energy once my children moved on. As a result, I quickly found myself lost. Which in turn landed me at a personal crossroads, accompanied by a full blown identity crisis.

You can't visit Jamaica and not land at Rick's Cafe. AMAZING!
TAKEN: MARCH 2nd, 2012

That said, to add salt to my wounded wanderlust this past week, I ended up chatting with a specific friend that was in my inner circle at the time of my fateful trip of self-discovery four years ago. If there's one thing I've realized in hindsight, it’s that when you allow people to see even a hairline crack of discord in your life, human nature has them use that as leverage for their own agenda.

I won’t elaborate any further except to say that once I got home from my 2012 Jamaica trip, it wasn’t long before I closed myself off from their negativity toward me and their opinions about the direction my life may or may not go. I was shocked last week they typed… “Something tells me that you’re never going to let me forget that time.” 

My answer? Abbsa-friggin’-lootley!!

I’ll never forget that very painful time. Matter a fact, I don’t want to forget. If I do, then those exact hairline cracks of negativity and control will slowly reappear. My biggest fear is that they will once again purposefully chip away at my self-confidence, which in hindsight was devastating. 

Bull crap aside... Happy Anniversary, to me. Just like the day I landed at Rick's Cafe in 2012, when it comes to navigating mean people, my mind has arrived where my determination will always be. Hear me roar when I say that I will never return to a place where I allow any person, friend and/or family member to manipulate my thoughts again.

Because let's face it. Any and all of them thar thoughts are exactly that... MINE! 

WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN?

When a coworker asked me what I was looking most forward to about the holidays this year, I gave her a very honest answer. It's not the food and reactionary weight gain that automatically occurs, because lets face it, I was heavier than I like to be in August so an extra splash of gravy behind my ears made no matter. With our children grown and having their own busy lives/traditions, I've finally conditioned myself to that. Shopping? Nope. Because I do very little (and I gifted mine to myself on Boxing Day). I told her that was so looking forward to the lights that shine bright on the tree. 

Getting to watch the lights at night is only reason I even put a tree up this year. Since I was a kid, they've always mesmerized me with their beauty. When I came downstairs this morning, I was going to take the ‘holiday tree’ down, yet decided to enjoy the lights at night a smidgen longer. As you can see by the photo I am sharing, other than a star on top, there wasn't a single decoration on my tree this year, only lights.

Thank goodness my amazing poinsettia hides my lack of decorations!
THANKS CHRISTOPHER...
(TAKEN: DECEMBER 24th, 2015)

That’s because when I finally forced myself to put up the thing up a week and a half before the eve, I went to work the following morn and left the box of decorations on the  living room floor. 

Suffice is the say the dogs puked and shat their spirit all over the house, which had me not bother to finish the task. Didn’t matter to me though, because as I said, the lights are my very favourite thing.

As you know, 2015 has been a year of personal change for me. I guess that’s why I shouldn’t be remotely surprised that the holiday season unfolded in the same manner. As one of my very favourite Facebook friends headed down the east coast to celebrate the season, I honestly wished that I could have been a Thelma to her Louise. Even sitting here now, I know that I am going to work towards renting a beach house for two weeks and taking my dogs to the ocean for 2016 Festivus.

You see, as my girlfriend and I exchanged niceties Christmas morning, she posted this message. 'Merry Christmas Rhondi. All these years I've seen your winter trip pictures and wondered why. Now I get it. There's nothing like spending the entire morning walking on the beach wishing people Merry Christmas.'

I couldn't have said it better myself.... The only thing she's forgotten?

How pretty the Christmas lights are with the sound of the ocean as their background!

I LOVE 'EM ALL ANYWAY

When I got home from work tonight, I instantly heard a faint sobbing coming from the front hall closet. As I opened the doors and leaned in, I realized it was my set of Rocketballz making the unsuspecting racket. As I wrapped my arms around to soothe them, you can't imagine my personal relief realizing my crying towels kept things under control until I got home.

One of my very faves... The 8th Tee at South Muskoka
TAKEN: JUNE 2013

Not gonna lie. It's after a great week like the one, that I realize how much I missed their Friday night company. In the old days, ending my work week with them made life just right.

I guess looking at the calendar and noticing the leaves changing I can't help but wonder where the heck the bulk of the golf season has gone. Not only that, talking my clubs off the ledge today made me realized, not only did I miss a great season but I missed that exciting euphoria every single golf course offers me. Even more so, I regret saying no to my Goob all summer. I've missed that mom & son quality time (that has effortless competitive sarcasm folded in) we always share on the course.

You know what else I miss? My pitching wedge, my heaven wood, and my putter. I truly do remember them fondly as we use to be the best of friends. As an aside, can you please not tell the others that my pitching wedge is my very favourite? Before you know it, the political infighting amongst them will have my short game disappear for good and my driver and other woods on strike for insubordination.

Ah hell, who am I kidding. This time last year, none of the above mentioned peeps in my golf bag ever listened, nor did what they were told. Yet, as I lovingly addressed them tonight I realized the obvious; I love 'em all anyway.

Afterall, they're family!