X IS FOR X-CITED

Any idea what kind of party we'll have?
Via the Ya Gotta Laugh About It Facebook page.

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 MARTIAN!

My martian and I at the top of El Faro with the Port of Mazatlan in the background.

TAKEN: NOVEMBER 30th, 2019

Apparently, what happens in Mazatlan, doesn’t stay in Mazatlan. It returns to Canada as a gastro-intestinal bug that lingers and gurgles for the better part of two weeks!

Aside from that, I managed to make it home unscathed. Thankfully the weather cleared and a half decent suntan was achieved.  A couple of books were read and our flight home was both comfortable and uneventful; just like the rest of the week away.

I’m sorry. I didn’t intend for that to read ungrateful. I’m very grateful. But this destination was different than any other we’ve ever visited. This trip’s the very first time that I felt uneasy in my resort surroundings. So much so that I didn’t like to walk anywhere alone; and I am VERY independent.

For example, even though it was one of the nicest beaches we’ve stayed on, and I absolutely loved swimming in the Pacific, we returned to our room immediately after dinner in the evening and only ventured off resort once.

Where we took the Colectivo (public transit) in Mayan Riviera, we decided to hire a Pulmonia driver to tour with us for the day when we ventured into the city. The little more than one hundred dollars Canadian was money very well spent.

The driver was a result of us being warned, after we arrived, that the people in this area of Mexico have a preconceived notion that all Canadians are extremely wealthy; and therefore you are always a possible target. 

You can imagine in a resort as large as where we stayed (almost 800 rooms) and only a handful of occupants being Canadian, just how small a presence we had. It was intimidating and frankly quite scary.

Anyway, home and settled with yet another passport stamp, I have to admit that the core of the city that caters to tourism was absolutely stunning. I have scads of amazing photos that I will be able to reminisce over for years to come.

That said, once we were home and settled, my husband began searching the cost of month long rentals on the beach where we stayed. Which made me stop and wonder.

What did he misunderstand about my verbalizing my fears and witnessing how sick I got? And how will we manage to stay married spending our early retirement winter months apart?

Once again unequivocally proving that my man is definitely from Mars.

Because this here cat?

Ain’t NEVER goin' back! 

Z IS FOR ZIP

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.)

E IS FOR EXCELLENCE

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

A VERY MEMORABLE NOVEMBER

As you're well aware, when the kids left for post-secondary school, I entered into a time of self-discovery with a mindset that I wanted to enjoy things I'd never had the luxury (with three children born two years apart) to a textbook middle-class Canadian couple. Concerts to me, became like designer shoes to Carrie Bradshaw: a 'must have'.

Packing only a Visa card
& my cellphone... 
I headed down St.Charles

into Old Montreal.

TAKEN: November 8th, 2013

So, as I have Marty McFly & Doc Brown rollback the DeLorean time travel dial, we arrive on Thursday November 6th, 2013.

My and I husband ventured into Toronto mid-day the see the History of the Eagles concert, that I swear I'd waited since 1976 to see. I had purchased the bucket list tickets the winter before and my highlight was that I was able to get some killer photos from the second row.

Anyway, still reeling from the excitement, the next morning we rose and enjoyed breakfast together, then my husband dropped me off at the airport in Toronto. I met a girlfriend coming in from Muskoka and we hopped a plane to Montreal.

The shortest flight I've ever taken was the perfect build up to one of the most exciting weekends I have ever experienced. We were hitting up Montreal to see Bon Jovi perform that Saturday night.

You see, my girlfriend won the tickets on a local radio station and her +1 cancelled on her less than a week before. Just as I would have, she headed on to her Facebook feed to see who could juggle their life last minute and get on a plane with her the following Thursday. I won!

To this day, I am so grateful for her taking me that weekend. That five day run of excitement was literally a wonderful once in a lifetime experience. That said, for a number of reasons, that very weekend in Montreal changed me as a person, not to mention how I've looked at life in general since.

After years of unconditional personal and financial support, a person close to me (on the receiving end of my charity) angrily 'unfriended me' when she discovered that I'd traveled from Toronto to la belle 'je me souviens' province at a whirlwind pace. Her reasoning? Because I'd given my second Eagles ticket to my husband and not her, then didn't take her to Montreal. 

Had she'd been civil at the time, she would have realized that 50% of what I have belongs to my husband, then discovered that it was my very generous friend that invited me to join her. All the latter cost me was the fee to put the West Jest ticket into my name. I was simply the invitee, never the inviter.

Which brings me to my point. Once a greedy person, always a greedy person. The more they get, the more they want. So, how did my very memorable November weekend in Montreal change me?

It made me realize (once the shock and hurt eventually passed) that the other washing their hands of me was the single biggest cost saving myself and my family have ever been blessed to receive.

The other side to my almost five year later coin toss (leap of faith, and/or possible lapse in judgement) is that though I've decided to allow her a peek back in, my doing so comes with an honest warning... that is plain and simple.

I may always try and forgive, yet I most certainly will never forget.

Wish us luck!