MAKING A DENT

After yesterday, everything aches!
TAKEN: MAY 31st, 2025

Well, we were back at it yesterday, with our dueling chainsaw in action at the cottage. 

We landed at about 10am and put the bad boys away at about 2pm. All in the hope of cleaning up from the ice storm before Labour Day!

We would have worked on today, but my travel buddy hubby left his medications at the house in town, so we spent the night at the cottage and headed home first thing. By doing so, sipping my coffee this morn produced a reality check that I hadn’t considered.

Though we are privileged enough to own two properties fifteen minutes apart, the amount of effort to support the maintenance of both is a balancing act. Previously, we would be lucky enough to have one afternoon of rest (each weekend) for the entire summer.

This year, I don’t think there will be any weekend rest. Except for an exciting long weekend, I have planned in July to celebrate my husband’s milestone birthday; the summer of 2025 will be the summer of sweat. Hard core labour sweat.

Like anything we are faced with, there is a give and take. Yesterday the ‘give’ was that neither of us had any energy or desire to deal with the task at hand. The ‘take’ was that the weather his a balmy 4C, which meant the mosquitoes and blackflies did not impede our efforts.

As you can see from the pic I am sharing, yesterday I tackled the start of clearing the stairs. I took this on because there were three steps to complete here and hubby has an issue bending over for hours at a time.

With the fire hazard surrounding us, I took clippers to the small limbs, then my electric chainsaw to anything that I could quickly process for the woodstove. Then, for tree trunks that had to be cut and would need to be split with an axe – out came my Husqvarna.

Though that might seem all organized and well thought out, there is always one large hiccup that presents itself when I bring this slick beauty out.... I have no ability to start it with the pull cord.  

I have to seek out my hubby, have him get ‘er going, then head back to my task at hand. Not gonna lie, I always try, then fold like a lawn chair and give up.

Glass half full? 

At least I always try!

PS: Can you do me a favour? PRAY for a ton of rain in June!!

Y IS FOR YUMMY

Doesn't my puzzle look yummy?
Katie Kate thinks so!
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 15th, 2025

A few years ago, I went to the local Habitat for Humanity, and for a whopping ten bucks I bought myself a puzzle table. Prior to that I have an old piece of plywood I would fetch from under the spare bed on Sundays, then I realized it was worth setting up a 'puzzle specific' table.

You can see I am sitting in front of our exterior sliding door but to my right there are big living room windows with base board heaters. Each year after the holidays are put away, I tuck the dining room table to the side to maximize heat output and minimizing the hydro bills.

For whatever reason, I tend to do puzzles with vibrant colour that also tend to have a focus on with food. The one after this one was yummy too – dogs making pizza!

I only puzzle from New Years Day until I leave for my birthday trip. Not only does it relax me, it helps we gain extra light in the winter months and relax while sports plays on the television in the background.

D IS FOR DARKNESS

The dead of winter in Muskoka
(A 6am pic snapped from our kitchen)
TAKEN: JANUARY 16th, 2025

I don't know about you, but as a person that suffers from Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) the darkness within the days of winter is something I seriously struggle with.

For those that aren't familiar with the condition, it is categorized as a type of depression that is related to changes in seasons. My symptoms generally begin when the clocks fall back for daylight savings time, worsen over the holiday break, and begin to lighten once the days begin to get longer in March.

It took me years to understand what was happening but once I did, I decided to battle it head on. 

I do my very best to keep my mood and body motivated.  I have often joked here that during the winter months I end up in the bedroom closet, with a blanket over my head, eating gravy from a ladle.

Aside from personal motivation to overcome symptoms, I will admit that my 'happy' lights work really well for me. I know some people don't believe in light therapy, but I swear by it. For over ten years now, my ‘happy’ lights automatically come on in the house to trick me into thinking the sun is rising, when in fact it is pitch black outside.

A commitment to light therapy, and the fact that I can afford to give myself a good jolt of vitamin D in the last week of November, are two of my blessings. A fall trip into the sun and self-awareness are key. By the time I travel (mid-April) for my birthday, I feel I have come out the other end. 

As I am preparing to hop an airplane this weekend, I am pleased to report that my inner darkness has lifted.

So here's to a really great six months of sunshine, until this vicious cycle begins again.

PS: Be sure to stop by tomorrow, to read where the jet plane is taking me, to celebrate my making it through winter!

B IS FOR BRUTAL

By mid-afternoon, the tree in the centre
of my photo filled the driveway with
fallen debris.
TAKEN: MARCH 30th, 2025

CLICK HERE: To have Rhondi read you this post on her new podcast platform

Though we live within our small town limits here in Muskoka, we are fortunate enough to live on what I have labelled the ‘waving street’. Where the homes are nicely staggered, and all you usually do is wave at your neighbours as they pass by.

Well, around dinner time last Friday night, it started; a three-day freezing rain event across the province that was brutal.

Hydro service left us about 10pm and was off for the majority of Saturday. It returned long enough for dinner to be prepared, warm the house, then ZAP; just like that the power was out another 24 hours.

The photo I am sharing displays what we woke up to Sunday morning. (That is one of the light fixtures on the garage and you can see a downed tree below it.) We spent the day huddled around the BBQ to stay warm, listening to the ice storm take tree after tree.

There were so many downed trees around us that by early afternoon the air smelt just like a sawmill filled with the aroma of freshly sawn wood.

With still over three hundred thousand residences without power, I am not sure what to expect as another round is to hit us by dusk tonight.

Which proves, yet again.... that Mother Nature is definitely off her meds!

MY KINDA BLING

I wish I would have had this wee
beauty back in December!
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 7th, 2025

CLICK HERE: To listen to Rhondi read this post on her new podcast platform

Before we got Old Bessie (our used snow blower) I would do the bulk of the snow removal with my big scoop. We have always shared the chores, but I have always enjoyed doing yardwork, no matter what the season.

With the last few winter seasons being so mild, I specifically took on the clearing of the decks, doors, and dog trails, while my travel buddy hubbly cleared the drive. I never needed my scoop as I could easily manage with a shovel.

When Snowmaggedon hit the first week of December, all bets were off. My scoop was stranded at the cottage, as it had been used the shuttle supplies in, during the December cottage holiday break in 2023. What complicated things even more, was that the snow was so wet and heavy, I could only manage to clear with a small shovel.

Well, as fate would have it, my hubby bought me this 60 volt battery powered snow shovel for the bargain basement price of $100 cash - which was crazy bananas amazing. So amazing, that I can move more snow, even faster than our beloved Bessie.

Now, I know what people say when their husband buys them a new vacuum for their birthday – but this gift was really and truly appreciated.

Seriously... who needs diamonds when a really great battery will suffice? Not this cat!

Ya gotta laugh about it!!

STYLE OF WHITE

 

For the last 2-1/2 years I have rarely allowed
my photo to be taken. That has ended.
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 1st, 2024

CLICK HERE: To listen to Rhondi read this post on her new podcast platform

My travel buddy hubby and I headed ten miles south with the pups yesterday, simply to get me out of the house. I’d worked thirteen of the last fourteen days and needed a serious dose of the bright chilly sunshine mother nature was serving up.

Once in the car, I started to take some fun pics with the pups to show how they were 'helping me' ride shotgun. You can see the outline of Katie next to my right shoulder, though she was cropped out of the selfie I am sharing. A selfie highlighting (no pun intended) my current style of white.

Not looking to open the “you’re lucky to have hair” dialogue again, as I was seen as a whiner when I posted about my broken-hearted smile after Edwina Scissorhands had done the deed. I simply wanted to share where I landed and say that this journey wasn’t an easy one.

It’s hard to believe that it has taken me thirty months to get the point where I no longer add toner to my hair or use root touch up. No matter what one does, when growing a colour out of your hair, there is no easy short cut.

I have tried a few times to get where I am today, but the line of demarcation has always had me folding like a lawn chair and add a rinse to buffer reality. Though still blonde in hue, the white has most certainly shown up to the party in a big way; and I am okay with it.

The truth is, last week, I opened a box of that miracle box of goo, that miraculously blends away gray for about twenty washes. As I finished my personal prep to start my anti-aging façade, I looked in the mirror and put everything back into the box and back into my bathroom cabinet.

As I prepare to turn sixty in about sixty days, it is time to embrace a couple of realities that are surrounding me. 

One, you’re only as old as you feel. And two, just in case I decided waffle on my decision, I have still have that opened box of goo to remind me that I promised myself not to hide anymore.

The third is critically the most important of anything I have written here today.

When I flipped that box over, I was elated by three amazing words…

MADE IN MEXICO!

Suck on that Donald Trump, you crazy, 'manifest destiny' chasing, kook!! 

FROZEN FRISBEE FUN

Getting the doggo's some exercise
...during a Polar Vortex
TAKEN: JANUARY 22nd, 2025

CLICK HERE: To listen to Rhondi read you this post (via her new podcast platform)

This morning, I was on my socials, and a photographer friend of mine posted a pic of a photo shoot his was doing. His caption read, "it sure is a chilly shoot this morning! Brrrr!!"

His buddy comment immediately and pointed out that he had spelt chilly wrong. Then corrected it by saying that this week it should be spelt “F’n cold!”

I literally laughed out loud and instantly liked the comment.

Running a doggie daycare, which touts a strict schedule of daily activities, does not bode well during a Polar Vortex. Suffice it to say, the show must go on.

As you can see by the photo I am sharing, Katie and Miya were making the best of it this morning.

I don’t think I have ever shared here, that we have an older home. Though well built in the 1980’s, we are at the mercy of electric baseboard heat. So, all of the oversized windows have insulated windows coverings to help mitigate the winter expenses.

On a day like today where the mercury is stuck at -25C, I keep the curtains closed. When our 9:30am break rolled around, I knew it was too cold for my pups. So a quick zip to do their business and I got them back into the house at once.

 By lunch, my app read it was a whopping -22C outside. With the girls very antsy, I decided to try some of our regular activities to burn off some of their energy. First try, I threw the frisbee three times and got them back into the house to warm their paws.

Half hour later, I gabbed my camera to show just how obsessed these two are with retrieving.

Miya, whose rubber frisbee matches her fur coat, was all in. Katie, seen bringing up the rear in my photo, just carries her favourite pig after she retrieves. She chases Miya, bouncing and slamming her pig into her, producing a very loud series of ‘oinks’.

This week is the first time I wished I would have trained them to wear those stupid looking booties I see dogs wearing. Only booties, no coats.

If they will swim in ice water at the cottage in the fall, the last thing I need to spend money on is a wardrobe. 

The purchase of toys at WalMart and Pet Value? ABSOLUTELY.

Fashion - NEVER!

Heck, they have a fur coat... Just how many do they need?!?

REMEMBERING 2024

As I have shared here several times before, because I lost my mother in her fifty seventh year, I have promised myself that I would never wish away time. That said, this past year has been so devastating on so many levels, I cannot wait for the clock to strike twelve at midnight; so that I can tightly slam the door and throw away the key.

In contrast to all of my other year-end offerings, I don't want to thank 2024 for the memories. What I will do is punch it in the throat and thank it for proving to us that we are stronger than we ever imagined we could be.

Let's all raise a glass and get ready to welcome a new year.  All the best to you and your loved ones in 2025, and thanks again for reading.

~ Rhondi

PS: As you reminisce with me electronically you can click links to journal offerings that you may have missed, or wish to revisit.  

PSS: This offering closes out my year with a total of 52 posts. An average of one a week, which has always been my goal.

Here we go.... Keep your hands and feet in the ride at all times!

Most Impactful Moment (centre - His start of week three, still immobile, chatting with his dad): The Wednesday after the May 2-4 weekend, my travel buddy hubby rolled his ATV down an embankment and into the lake at the cottage and spent seventeen days in St. Michaels Hospital in Toronto.

His three brain bleeds, emergency surgery to repair internal bleeding, and his suffering a stroke only scratched the surface of what he endured while confined to a hospital bed.

(LINK TO RE-READ: BORINGLY NORMAL NO LONGER)

January: December left us like a lamb and January came in like a lion. After spending the holiday break at the cottage, this is what the view from my home office was on January 18th (top left). Though my photo is beautiful, we truly had a very mild winter with minimal snow overall.

February: Enjoying a great dinner out for Jukeboxs' birthday and my capturing the boys enjoying an evening out in our sleepy little town. To take a peek at our antics, check out my post from my April A-Z Challenge.

(LINK TO RE-READ: T IS FOR TOMFOOLERY)

March: In an effort to offer a healthier option, I began baking dog cookies. They were slam dunks. When a coworker asked if it was because I was trying to save money, I told her that I was always 'squirreling my nuts, so that I could eventually shuck my clams.' All these months later, she still references the saying and reminds how much she enjoyed my post.

(LINK TO RE-READ:SQUIRRELING MY NUTS )

April: Let me tell you, I may have shucked a few clams to spend my birthday on Cable Beach in the Bahamas, but it was totally worth it (top right). Scored us $300 roundtrip flights over Christmas Break and the rest is history.

(LINK TO RE-READ: J IS FOR JOY)

May: We moved to the cottage for the summer the weekend before the long weekend. There was no one around. It was at dusk, when I spotted what I thought was an otter moving in the lake. It turns out it was a moose. Less than two week later, everything changed.

June: My travel buddy hubby arrived home after seventeen days in a Toronto Hospital. I swear the dogs figured he was never coming back. They never left his side for the three months following when he was healing at home.

(LINK TO RE-READ: STORMY WEATHER REFLECTIONS)

July: I was devastated by the sudden death of my cousin Denny. So grateful for all the social media sound bites of his voice and singing. Such a talented and wonderful person. Will miss ya, always, Den.

(LINK TO RE-READ: MY FAVOURITE COWBOY)

August: I was happy to host my sister for ten days at the cottage. As we do for anyone that visits, she had to have a drink with our Dad.

(LINK TO RE-READ: CHEERS FROM ANDY GIRL)

September: Unexpectedly, we lost my beloved Annie to an aggressive brain tumour. Only seven days from the time we discovered her drooling, to her no longer know how to eat and drink. I loved her for her entire life and will love her the rest of mine.

(LINK TO RE-READ: REST EAST MY ANNIE)

October: For the first time in almost two decades, my travel buddy hubby and I hosted Thanksgiving dinner. So thankful for all those that attended. Their unconditional support during this very trying year meant the world to us.

(LINK TO RE-READ: A TABLE FOR TEN)

November: We managed to get in a week long vacation to the Mayan Riviera mid month. In keeping with the theme for the year, we were not even remotely surprised to be absolutely hammered by Tropical Storm Sara. 

(LINK TO RE-READ: PONDERING REALITY)

December: Snowmageddon 2025 rolled into town, and stayed over a week. Lake effect snow off Georgian Bay had the Town of Gravenhurst under a state of emergency, reminding us that our town was in the same state fifteen years ago to the day.

(LINK TO RE-READ:SNOWMAGEDDON SUCKS

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

DECEMBER 11th, 2009

In preparing for another possible 40cms of snow, I have spent my home office breaks clearing the overhanging white stuff with our roof rake. In the twenty plus years we have owned our home, we’ve never had to shovel our roof.

If we get the next dumping of snow they are predicting, I am going to have to hire someone to do it. With my travel buddy hubby having balance issues, it will be the first chore we haven’t been able to do ourselves; yet another reminder that getting old really sucks!

Nonetheless, while I was eating my lunch and checking my socials, I clicked to take a look at my online memories. You know, where Facebook shows you something you posted on this date, and how many years ago it was.

Well, today I was reminded that it was eleven years ago today that I had lunch with one of my closest clients, sharing my intent to quit my job at MWDC.

Thirteen years ago, today I posted, "Leadership is about influence and impact, not title and accolades." (Something I still truly believe.) 

And, that fifteen years ago today Bracebridge was under a State of Emergency.

I really like checking out my memories. It gives me a chance to download pictures I may have lost thanks to the many 'blue screens of death' I have experienced. I can recall two desktops and a laptop that I never fully recovered from.

Today's memories helped me recover about a dozen pics from varying years. Now safely stored on an external hard drive, that I also back up.

The photos I am sharing today were taken with my Blackberry - no clue which version. 

Not only do the photos bring back great memories, like when the kids still living at home, when the house had green trims, and that we really DID shovel before old Bessie.... It shows me just how far digital photography from a phone has progressed.

Stay safe and warm everyone. Winter is here to stay!!

Taking a break from shoveling in the whiteout
TAKEN: DECEMBER 11th, 2009

The house when it had green trims
TAKEN: DECEMBER 11th, 2009

Before we got rid of the trees
TAKEN: DECEMBER 11th, 2009

Goob in a cape and shorts!
TAKEN: DECEMBER 11th, 2009

SNOWMAGEDDON SUCKS

...It is beginning to feel a little lot like Groundhog Day.
TAKEN: NOVEMBER 30th (left)
DECEMBER 1st (right)

These last few days the lake effect snow's hammered the Muskoka region to the core.

White out conditions started early Friday November 29^th,  but by the time guy got home it has slowed, so we decided we would tag team our snow shoveling/blowing efforts first thing in the next morning.

Up bright and early, we discovered the snow was so wet, the blower struggled to move it. With me working the clearing of the decks and stairs, I could only use a small shovel as the saturated weight was simply more than I could manage.

Slowly and steadily we moved snow off the driveway, decks, and doggo trails for the better part of Saturday. By sundown it was a total white out and by 8pm the hydro was out. And it stayed out for more than 14 hours. In all our 22 years here, this is the first time the hospital grid (which we’re on) has been out for more than a few of hours.

By morning we were ready to start again. I boiled water on the BBQ for coffee, then we headed outside. My travel buddy hubby mentioned that he was going to head across the street to get the intel on the neighbourhood blower guy.

In the bitchiest tone ever, I asked why was wasn’t going to fire up old Bessie, “...because the snowblower is an electric start” he replied in the same tone I came at him with. Which was deserved. It was just one of the things you never think of, nor have impacted us previously.

Tired and spent, mid afternoon Sunday brought the sun out and our accumulation to date was about 52 inches.

That said, I have been shoveling though the day today and Bessie our blower is back at it as I type, as we received another good six inch dumping today.

I have always been proud of our efforts to do our yard chores, when everyone else on the street has hired help. It has sort of been a badge of honour.

That said, I now understand first hand the reason why pride is classified a deadly sin. 

Because without our old Bessie, this specific 2024 storm front feels like (if we would have had to deal with it old school)…. It might have killed us!

MUSINGS BY THE BONFIRE

My wee Miya Maria and me... Musing beneath the trees.
TAKEN: December 29th, 2022

Well, it appears I have once again survived 'Blue Monday'. 

Though I'm sure some men might consider Blue Monday what follows the weekend if they didn't get laid, but I am referring to the Monday that is identified world wide as 'the most depressing day of the year.' 

The exact day is calculated by assessing weather (W), post-holiday debt (d), time since Christmas (T), failing New Year's resolutions (Q), low motivation (M), and a lack of decisive action (Na). This year, it was Monday January 16th.

For fun, here is my current assessment and reflection of their criteria:

Weather – The weather man is the only dude that can do his job wrong 100% of the time and not get fired.

Post-Holiday Debt – Don’t have any. Hard to go into debt when all you do is put up the same lights, decorate the tree the same every year, and only purchase heart felt gifts for three loves.

Time Since Christmas – This one has a reverse effect for me. I cringe when they start pushing me at Hallowe’en to 'deck the stinkin' halls'.

Failing New Year’s Resolution -  Didn’t make one. I set goals I want to accomplish but never make resolutions

Low Motivation -  This one did tick a box or two this year. Unnecessary and immature drama prior to breaking for the holidays tainted my time off. There were lots of tears. I realize now it was my own fault for allowing it to bother me. It’s over now, and I was feeling great prior to January 16th .

Lack of Decisive Action: Not with this cat. Booked and paid for my birthday trip  to Vegas on Black Friday, paid off the car more than a year early, and continually remove toxic people from my life. If there is one thing I am – it is extremely decisive!

As an aside, for me this milestone day doesn't register in the same way it may with others. I find it important to acknowledge because it signifies the end of my season affective cocoon (aka: time change coma) and is the beacon of light at the end of the tunnel which leads me to spring. Coles notes, it means the shortest day of they year has passed and the longest day with sunlight is on the way.

As I look at the photo I am sharing, I love that I captured such a great moment. Sitting by the fire, Miya waiting for the next snowball to be thrown, with music filling our yard. It was truly a great day.

Sitting there sipping, I remember in the moment turning to my husband and raising my Yeti. "Let’s face it," I said. 

"It is on days like these that I am convinced that wine was invented because God just wanted all of us to be happy!"

As we both chuckled at my spontaneity, I leaned over and clinked his can, then I continued as I always do. "Ya gotta laugh about it," I said. 

Ya just always gotta laugh about it! 

...Take THAT Blue Monday!!

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)

OLD BESSIE AND ME

An Alberta Clipper passed though Muskoka and old Bessie rose to the occasion!

TAKEN: FEBRUARY 19th, 2022

Like everyone else in Muskoka, we woke up Saturday morning and couldn’t see across the street. 

After a pot of hot coffee and the blizzard subsiding, my hubby began to bundle up and I immediately followed his mid-morning motivational moves. We headed out together, to tackle the hellish 13+ inches of the white stuff that had arrived; express, via Alberta.

Though I have always complained about winter in general, when it comes right down to it, I've always enjoyed shoveling snow.  You can move quite a lot of the crap with a snow scoop and prior us inheriting old Bessie, snow was always moved the old fashion way – with sheer determination and hard work. 

For the record, Bessie came to us a few years back as a gift from our buddy Myler. To accurately describe her, I would have to say she’s a lot like me. Older in nature yet has a lot of spunk and life left in her!

Just like me, she may struggle some days to get going - but at the end of it all she keeps going and going until the task at hand is completed... And this past Saturday played out exactly like that for all of us.

I started by shoveling the decks and around the front of the garage while Bessie and my man hit the long driveway straights. Boy, there was a lot of snow to move. About halfway through them making a dent in the driveway drifts, it was my turn to drive the Bess-Monster.

To give you a visual, this old girl is heavy as a tank (not that I’m not that too…) and directly under the driveway snow, was a sheet of ice from top to bottom.

 

I did OK heading uphill, as the blower motor did most of the work and I positioned my feet as if I was climbing uphill on cross country skis. Coming back down was another story. I just gripped the handles and focused on staying standing up as if I were snowboarding. 

Trust me, gliding down the driveway ice behind Bessie was far easier and safer than trying to walk. All I could think to myself was thank goodness for my figure skating point of balance and my elementary school super slider snow skate experience. In one word… WICKED!

After hubby and I tagged team off again and he headed back toward the top of the drive, I held up my phone and snapped our photo. What I am sharing is exactly what I captured, and there are a couple of things I love which this photo illustrates.

Firstly, that teamwork really does make the dream work.. AND, that I absolutely LOVE that the blowing snow hides my Saturday morning big ass bedhead, as well as the fact that I am not wearing any makeup. 

What can I say?

...Except our old girl Bessie brings out the absolute best in me!

SNOW IT STARTS!

The frozen precipitation I deem a constant irritant and source of months of personal misery landed last week. Allow me to draw to your attention to exhibit 'A' below: my frustrating flakey foe. Stupid f*cking snow! 

My pretty pups posing with my frozen foe!
TAKEN: NOVEMBER 16th, 2020

Dirty chirps aside, like I do every autumn, I force myself to push through this horrible six weeks of time change purgatory, until the days begin to get longer and the UV rays reflect off our pristine white blanket in January. 

With my seasonal affective disorder at its most debilitating in November, I always spend time looking for positive distractions. This electronic journal helped me in the fall of 2011 and in post Thanksgiving time changes since, I have leaned on it more often than not. 

This year, with all that's happening you would think I would want to write more, yet my creative canvas appears completely blank. Therefore, if writing isn't going to be where I channel my energy,  I have resigned myself to the fact that I am going to need another outlet. 

With that in mind, three weeks ago I took a giant step and dug out and dusted off my trustworthy treadmill. It stands proud upstairs, looking out the big picture windows and I enthusiastically offer it social niceties multiple times a day. 

So far, I have yet to plug the power cord into the wall and take it for a spin. Guess its because I'm a firm believer you can't rush back into a physical relationship, when you've completely ignored its purpose for over five years; which is why this weekend I shifted my focused to the upcoming holiday season. 

With the kids grown and gone, there isn't near as much to look forward to as their use to be, yet I do my best to get into the spirit of things. Though I never ask for anything, I do love to gaze at my Christmas tree lights each night for the entire month of December, bringing specific enlightenment to my earlier attempt at a new energy absorbing distraction. 

You see, I put my newly dusted off old chum in the very same spot I always put the holiday Christmas tree that houses those 500+ beautiful LED lights I love. 

Knowing Christmas lights trump everything, I am feeling very grateful I only ever offered a cheerful good morning to my buddy, never hopping on with false intentions. 

Because I know now, that we would have just gotten back into a familiar rhythm, and I would have had to fold 'er up and move 'em to the cold garage, alone, until early January 2021.  Once again proving, the creative process and this silly electronic journal offer me the crystal clear clarity and self enabling justification I crave this time of year. 

Which leaves me hollering, yet again.... Pass the chocolate cake, spark another Hallmark movie, and deck the freaking halls! 

Oh, before I forget. Is there anyone around next weekend to help me move a treadmill?

#yagottalaughaboutit 

MY STEADY SEPTEMBER

My Annie on the left and my Puddin' going full tilt on the right!
TAKEN: September 20th, 2020

Vacation the first week of August may have been a total bust but the weather the last week of summer more than made up for it. I don’t know about you - but there has always been something with the end of September atmosphere that genuinely put an extra skip in my step. 

For obvious reasons, as fall approaches each year I always make the effort to give my pups as many unique experiences as possible. I suppose it’s because I know, for the most part, nature is preparing us to hunker down in darkness as we wait for the pre-winter snow to arrive.

As you can see from our last adventure photos, Annie is as active as toddler on steroids but the signs of Puddin’ officially becoming a senior are starting to visibly show. Therefore, I have decided that this fall has to be about a balance. Not just energy level balance. Overall life balance; not only for the pups but for me as well.

Such a big and important thought process (and learning curve) for me right now. 

In my effort to strive and achieve it, I will no longer be working 50 hours a week and on call from sun up until sun down. I have disabled all alerts on my phone and I honestly try my best to power that sucker down before I serve dinner and leave it off until I wake the following morn.

That change combined with an inner twang for more personal balance, resulted in me reconnecting with my very best gal pal. It’s not like she and I were estranged per se, just both got busy with life in general and became accustom to the Bluetooth on the road home doing all the legwork for us. 

I am pleased to report that this very steady September has us getting back to basics where the first question we ask the other is “...How are you doing?” I had truly missed that. 

You see, for the last several years I had been so focused on others and their demands, that the little things that mattered somehow got lost in the shuffle. I guess you could say that prior to making this small, almost minor change in behaviour, I was always in search of the answer as to how to create change.

Then, on the evening of September 10th, I realized that I no longer wanted to wait for the opportunity of change. I understood whole heartedly I had to pull up my big girl panties and encompass and embrace the change I was searching for.…So I did. 

The rest is up to me.

A SNACK BRACKET

My very favourite client was in the office last week and he said to me… “Rhondi, just like you, I’ve had Covid-19.”

We burst out laughing after he continued with, “At the end of all of this, I’m not sure if it will end up being nineteen pounds, or nineteen kilograms!” 

I don’t know about you, but as an emotional eater, I can generally peg the time of year when circus music begins to chime in my ear signaling me to buy stock in the most profitable potato chip company. And I can assure you, every fall, any and all are generously sampled; as part of my annual stock purchase evaluation.

What can I say. I was a fat toddler. I was power fed homogenized milk, and in those days the perception was the fatter the better. The good news is I shed that baby fat, the bad news is those formed fat cells follow you forever.

I have always been athletic and outgoing but when perimenopause clicked in everything changed. My body absorbed food differently and in one year my metabolism changed exponentially. It was in that moment I knew I was being put to pasture.

Kicking and screaming and the better part of a year later, I lost the excess weight and changed my lifestyle. That was in 2012.

Even with a major change in lifestyle, winters and my seasonal affective disorder in this harsh tundra have me pulling my gravy crutch out of the hall closet bringing the five or ten pound of weight gain that accompany it. The good news is those extra pounds were always shed before I ever had to appear in any sort of summer shorts or swimming outfit. 

This year? We locked down. I filled up. The rest is history!

I want to shed the pounds I’ve gained yet I am a creature of habit. 

If gravy has a crutch, my philosophy that if I share with the pups I am really only taking in 1/3 of the calories must be a motorized wheelchair. One chip for each of you, one chip for me. One jelly bean for each of you, one jelly bean for me; and trust me, I am always fair in the distribution department.

I guess you could say that the only way the dogs keep the upper paw on me is because they don't have to share their dog cookies with me. Though I must say, on occasion the label on the front of the box has made it cross my mind.

Not gonna lie.... Those gravy covered Milk Bone dog biscuits definitely land within my mid-winter snack bracket!!

#yagottalaughaboutit

It would appear that Annie and I have similar snackage struggles
TAKEN: AUGUST 7th, 2020

WINTER SUCKS!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

... and that WINTER SUCKS!

HASTA LUEGO, AMIGOS!

If you happen to follow me on social media, you are well aware of the treacherous weather I endured to ensure I made it to the airport for my jaunt into the sun in the middle of February.

The roads were so bad, it took four hours to get the airport, with the last hour being a slow crawl from the top of Toronto into the parking lot of my airport hotel.

Once finally checked in and cozy, the freezing rain arrived in full force. Fully expecting my flight to be cancelled in the morning, when I rose at 3:00am the following morn to prepare for my 6:15am flight, my Sunwing app pleasantly alerted me to a fight delay rather than cancellation.

Knowing full well that I was faced with a kick-ass first world problem, I was still excited that the flight had only been delayed and not cancelled. A little better than four hours late, the plane was barreling down the YYZ runway & I was getting the hell out of dodge!

Landed, took a quick bus to the resort, suited/lathered up and immediately headed onto the beach & into the sun. Suffice is to say that by dinnertime I was totally bagged from my 'hurry up and wait kinda day' whilst soaking up the spirits that compliment an all inclusive vacation.

So, for a combination of reasons (including sheer stupidity) I took my designer handbag with me into the dinner buffet. Inside was my wallet, my underwater camera and uber expensive cellphone; all of which usually stay under lock and key no matter where I travel.

After meeting the serving team and leaving a generous tip for their amazing service, I was off to see the 9:30pm live show. Thank goodness I got waylaid in the lobby bar listening to the house band, because after the dining room closed, I got an unexpected tap on my shoulder from the gal that was my server earlier in the evening. She could barely speak English but managed to act out that I had left my handbag in the diningroom.

I rushed back with her to retrieve it, hugged each and every one of the servers that worked in my Diamond Club section and was grateful beyond belief. As I type, I am amazed that though they didn’t have to return my bag (and my valuable contents) they ALL went above and beyond by wandering through hundreds of people in the busiest section of the resort to find me and do the right thing.

Proving, yet again (what I unconditionally believe) that you get back the energy you ultimately exude. To expand on that, it's always been my personal travel belief that no matter where one lands or where one roams, you are the the one responsible for the outcome in the overall experience department; which is primarily why I ignore 99% of the negative input on Trip Advisor, focusing only on what may impact my ability to enjoy my adventure.

With any/all political views aside, there is truly something special about Cuba. They boast some of the most beautiful beaches I have ever had the pleasure to walk along & enjoy, which pale in comparison to the attitude and passion of the people that live there.

They personify that you should ALWAYS treat people the way you want to be treated. It's that simple... To which I will be forever grateful.

Gracias y hasta luego, amigos....

Thank you, I will see you again, friends.

Sharing more of the love the following evening with these amazing peeps!
Memories Flamenco Beach Resort ~ Cayo Coco, Cuba
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 14th, 2019

MY DARK REALITY

My 7am walk in the rain with the streetlights on.
TAKEN: SEPTEMBER 25th, 2018

So, it's official. I won't be heading into the sunshine at the fall back time change, as those strict savings were allocated toward lowering the purchase price of a new vehicle. Though I could have juggled and managed both financially, I'm keeping a stiff upper lip (whilst pouting profusely) by refusing to travel on previously earmarked savings or credit.

As a possible pick me up, I will report that I've decided only to listen to Bob Marley that week on the custom Bose sound system my new ride's equipped with, which could be deemed as a small concession, as the 'Port Carling-mobile' was a must have purchase.

'Must have’ ...an interesting approach to an item, isn't it?

Matter a fact, I was just talking to a couple of guys on my team last week about certain personality types and their somewhat incessant need for instant gratification of material purchases. That casual dialogue, led to a neat conversation about the understanding of want vs. need in the lifestyle spending department: In that I wanted to go to Jamaica in November, yet I was in need of another vehicle. 

Here's the skinny. When I walked to carpool this morning in the rain, the street lights were on, warning me that hell is on the horizon for me.  Hell may be a strong visual to inflict here but you can’t understand an others personal struggle with a lack of natural light until you’ve experienced its direct effect. Never the less, if I want to cross the pond for the first time for my next birthday, concessions had to be made and I had to come to grips with the dark reality that there will be very little fall sunlight. 

Let’s face it... I’m no spring chicken. For decades, money’s been squirreled away for that rainy day that'll most likely resemble this morning. In a perfect scenario, my attitude will be as positive as ever.

I'll be the life of the party, rocking out to AC-DC’s Shook Me All Night Long, gripping my walker, nursing a recently healed broken hip from break-dancing; in one very kick-ass mature lifestyle community.** 

Glass half full? 

It will be paid for... and I'll be revered by all, for still truly remembering the 1980's.

**: This kick-ass community may or may not be located in Jamaica!