A IS FOR AGAIN

What a difference 9 years makes. Can you tell I am out of practice taking a selfie?
TAKEN: March 31, 2013 & April 1st, 2022

It’s hard to fathom that I started this wee electronic journal over ten years ago.

That day was Sunday November 20, 2011, and a grand total of thirty five people read my very first sentences stating: ‘Okay, so it’s apparent that I’ve set this thing up without a plan. Once again, the cart is before the horse. 

Whatever, I’ll pat myself on the back, call it forward thinking and move on.’

With views over a million cumulatively over all platforms, the back story is that prior to deciding to write, I had been following two other writers of blogs. One was a gal I'd gone to high school with, the second a chicka whom truly inspired me, known as Cold Lake Cathy 

It was her encouragement that gave me the confidence to take my first April A-Z Blogging Challenge which began April 1^st, 2013. Exactly nine years ago today.

From 2013-2020 I did my best to participate and post. But when April 2021 rolled around, my personal life as well as the entire world was in limbo and I just couldn’t motivate myself to participate. 

Then, after leaving my job last fall to stay home and care for my husband, I went back through all my offerings and did a “from the archives” hybrid version. 

I chose posts that resonated with me when I first wrote them and reposted each by backdating them into April 2021 using the exact day (stating the year) they originally appeared. 

That lengthy exercise last fall, the reading of all offerings and choosing twenty six posts, made me realize that I didn’t want to stop writing. It actually helped me understand how cathartic the process can be and how emotionally attached I am to this silly little journal.

By the way, the photo above on the left is what I looked like the night before my very first A-Z post on April 1, 2013. The photo on the right, what I look like today.

These days, my coloured gray hair is thinner and much shorter. The dreaded waistline is regretfully wider, and the lifelines on my skin more apparent. Peeps, middle age is unquestionably my vibe. 

The only thing similar is my overall optimism and a couple of important factoids that remain instilled since the start of my journey (as avid readers will relate):

A) The only place where success comes before work is in the dictionary.

B) When arguing with a stupid person, make sure they aren't doing the same thing.

C) Never push a loyal person to the point when they no longer care.

D) Always tell the truth, it gives you far less to remember.

E) Smile, it improves your face value.

F) Lastly, a great neighbour is definitely a found treasure. (For those reading, feel free to stop by the house next week and pick up dog poop. Free dog* to the first three that arrive!)

Chuckles aside, wish me luck peeps. Nine year later... I am at it AGAIN!

*Important caveat: The three dogs available upon 'great neighbour poop pick up day' are not mine - and most definitely shall be named later.

DEBATING WINTER WARMTH

Over the recent 2021 holiday break, I watched a 7-part documentary offering on Netflix titled Pretend It’s A City, starring New York City author and 70’s icon Fran Lebowitz.

Though she made a ton of valid points about the Big Apple within the hours I watched, in one episode, she went on a rant on how she can’t believe people travel for the purpose of enjoyment. 

"When I’m in airports and I see that there are people going on vacations, I think… How horrible could your life be?” Then she continued with “Like, how bad is your regular life, that you need to escape it?!”

As you know, my husband and I have travelled quite a bit and we have a pretty great ‘regular life.’ So, as soon as she said it, I instantly did a double take and wish I would have had the laser sharp wit to say what I will say here today. 

"Yo, Franny...” (I'll call her that, because we quickly bonded during my very lengthy and indulgent binge watch in my jammies.) "Kiss my fat and colourful carryon caboose... and stick my boarding pass where the holiday sun don't shine!”

Overbearing travel opinions of one rich New Yorker aside, next month marks the 10^th anniversary of the very first trip my hubby and I took without our kids. I had won a $5,000 travel voucher and we decided to travel in great style to a destination that we’d never typically be able to afford to go. Negril, Jamaica was where we landed.

On that trip, we met a couple that we have stayed in touch with ever since. As a matter a fact, we got along so well, that we met each other again in Runaway Bay two years later; and we were invited to their wedding in Montego Bay in April of 2018. (That's the amazing HMR on the right, photobombing my man.)

Winter work (in Muskoka) vs. Winter warmth (in Runaway Bay)
TAKEN: Today and February 2014

I totally miss travelling... Because for us it isn’t just about the time you spend together once you’ve arrived at your destination. We enjoy the planning, research, the anticipation, and of course the most exciting part for me - the sound of my passport getting stamped.

Which takes me back to my buddy Fran. How bad is my 'regular life' if I need to escape it? I say toss that Toonie into the air, because the other side of the proverbial coin question will be: How many narrow minded people do you know that have a thick passport?!”

Either way, I can say with confidence, that every single stamp we’ve gotten along the way will be only one of the many conversations we will always enjoy together for the rest of our lives.

So, there you have it Ms. Lebowitz.

 Point. Set. Match.... ME!

OUR HEALTHY HIATUS

 

Fun times on our last pre-lockdown vacation to Mazatlán Mexico.
Sad that (post op) travel will never be the same. BUT... We'll figure it out!
TAKEN: DECEMBER 2, 2019

Due to circumstances beyond our control, my husband took a three-month work hiatus last fall which saw me booking a prearranged block of time off with him. 

His time was for personal health reasons. Mine was to be his 'beck and call' girl, ensuring we got to keep him around with us for many more years to come.

I began my work break the day before my husband entered the hospital, and we mutually decided on day five after his surgery, that I would not be returning to my then place of employment.

That said, not to throw baby out with bathwater, I requested to take an addition three weeks of vacation time once we got home. You know, in hopes my boss wouldn’t turn out to be the greedy turd my hubby warned me he was.

Alas, when the time ran out, I lost in my true wager of hope. He won the lackluster coin toss fair and square, and as we expected I officially left the job the Friday night before I was set to return the first Monday in November.

Though you may be sensing this is going to be a dark rant about a bad boss - it isn’t.  He’s in the past and not the direction I’m going. This electronic journal post is a good news story about my husband and me.

A good news story on how we spent three life changing months, in very close proximity, essentially only in each other’s company and we didn’t kill each other… Signifying will be a successful team in retirement!

Now, for those of you that know my husband, certain phrases will always come to mind. “Great guy, amazing friend, gets along with everyone” top the list, and the list is long. The one thing I will say, is that none of those people live with him.

Just as I’m sure people that know yours truly, wonder how my hubby puts up with me, I will caution once again… you don’t live with us. I believe we work well because we have found a great balance.

At the end of the day, we have always worked hard on good communication as well as our overall friendship with each other. We married young and started our family younger than most. Yet, we were lucky to have found a rhythm that truly bonds the both of us. 

Most importantly, the rough patches are things we still discuss openly, they aren’t tucked away. As we both recognize, those times are all a part of how we have arrived at today.

Suffice to say, because of our looming circumstance over the last year, we’ve discussed our plans for retirement and what that may look like. I guess I can say that after the last three months, now we're just excited about how that eventual transition will happen. 

Which brings me to my long story/short point:

How do you know it’s your time to retire? It’s when you stop lying about your age and start bragging about it!

Stay tuned. After a year, I am finally writing again... and I promise to report back on what we decide!!

REMEMBERING 2021

There is so much emotion attached to the last year that I truly don’t know where to start.

Personally, I decided I would no longer surround myself with people that didn’t have the same core philosophies as yours truly, cleansing myself of a mountain of stress and unnecessary drama. 

Professionally, I decided that health of loved ones and home life happiness trumped making ungrateful employers’ gobs of money without thanks. Who knew that at my age I could still grow a pair? Guess you CAN teach an old dog new tricks!!

All the best for 2022 everyone. Remember to keep your hands and feet in the ride at all times.

Cheers from Rhondi

Most significant moment (centre): Merry Christmas! My husband and his sister were both given a clean bill of health. What an amazing way to end the year that lasted a century.

Top left to right:

January: Knowing that travel wouldn’t be an option, we decided in the new year to keep the cottage deck cleared of snow so that we could spend weekends there during the winter.

February: Back in lockdown and only interacting with our exclusive bubble, we enjoy an amazing dinner and bonfire to celebrate Jukebox’s birthday.

March: With my husband being fast tracked for surgery, we received our first shot.

April: Rebuilding cottage decks and illustrating the crap we found – including a kitchen sink that had been buried for decades.

May: After we had a new roof installed, we spent the weekend repairing and staining the exterior of our home.

June: Born April 9^th, 2021, we brought home the lovely Miya Maria on June 9^th (my Dad’s birthday) 2021.

July: After a 7-year hiatus, Goob got me back on the golf links on Sunday afternoons. I had no idea how much I had truly missed it.

August: Stella, our floating picnic table became the go to pup activity (and official conversation piece) on Orillia Lake.

September: I snapped this photo moments before my husband went in to have his life changing surgery.

October: Just eighteen days post op and we attended the beautiful wedding of my husbands brother and his new bride.

November: Mid way though our three-month break, we found a beautiful bouquet of the Petro Canada glasses I collect. Words can't express how I still get excited to find them.

December: Life is good. Though I left my job in October, for the first time in my life I chose life balance over work life which has made a world of difference for us.

U IS FOR UNEXPECTED

Happy 10th Anniversary Mikey Mike!
Taken: April 2017 

From the April A-Z Blogging archives.
This was originally posted April 24th, 2017

As I have said before, I don't like to be surprised. Yet for some strange reason, I love surprising people. 

I'm sure it has something to do with the unexpected look on their face, which is kind of funny really, because that's one of the reasons why I hate being surprised!

Anyway, my most recent coo was when a good friend and coworker hit their 10 year work anniversary milestone. With everyone gathered in the conference room, out of the blue, I busted out a cake.

It may not seem like much but this fella is never one to get the props he due and he was so caught off guard that when I handed him the cake he almost dropped it. Even funnier is that because we can tend to be a couple of pranksters, when I went to take our selfie, he held the cake away from himself for fear that I would put his face in it.

Though I have only been with the company for a couple of years (Click here to read: Mikey Mike & The Funky Lunch) I have been work friends with young Mike since 2010. The one thing I will admit is that the only thing that isn't unexpected about my post is that everyone knows I think this fella is a keeper. 

Happy Anniversary buddy... Here's to 10 more! 

L IS FOR LAUGHTER

From the A-Z Blogging archives

This was originally posted on April 14, 2013

From a very young age, I could find humour in anything. I wasn’t the class clown, but I wasn’t found hiding in the corner either. 

You know the old saying? “When you meet the one you’re going to marry, you’ll know.” I couldn’t agree more. Because from the very first date we went on, Tony made me laugh and I was smitten.

I am quick to admit that I really do have a pretty sick sense of humour, so for the most part, we've always had a home filled with sarcasm and laughter. Sunday dinners were always my favourite, because one of the five of us would be on the hot seat, in turn it was front row entertainment for us all.

April 14th, 2013 - LAUGHTER
Taken: April 2008

My son has a natural rhythm for delivering zingers. His wit is so sharp that you can’t see the joke coming until everyone around you is bent over with laughter.

My husband tries, so do I, but more often than not my children comment “Ooooh Mom… That was a Dad joke!” Which means I completely tanked in my effort. 

Doesn’t keep me from getting back on the horse. Never has, and it never will.

Kurt Vonnegut said “laughter and tears are both responses of frustration and exhaustion. I prefer to laugh because there is less cleaning up to do afterwards!” I couldn’t agree more. Except for when you make me laugh so hard I cry. Honestly? THAT is the very best cleanup this gal loves to experience.

Have a great day all, and remember to keep that frown turned upside down!

I IS FOR IMPOSSIBLE

 From the April A-Z Blogging archives.

This was originally posted April 10th, 2015.

Here’s the deal. I was born at ten thirty in the morning.  

How do I know that? Well, when I was little, my Dad use to tell me that he dropped my mother off at the hospital on his way to work and he got the call on his first coffee break that I had arrived.

You're only as old as you feel...!
TAKEN: APRIL 9th, 2015

That story was shared in the sun yesterday as I traveled with three other Canadian couples to Bacardi Island. 

We had met them on the first day and instantly bonded over the love of humour and six degrees of separation. Seriously, as our day unfurled yesterday, we realized that we had even more very mutual long term friends.

With an email from my bestie arriving last night (asking ‘how my adventure was’) and no ability to return it... as I began to write this morning, I truly struggled to pick my word. 

Just for fun, this was my short list!

Internet: The service here sucks like a two dollar hooker with a turnstile!

Insane: In reference to the boat ride that almost killed us yesterday!

Incredible: The way the 8 of us laughed off said boat ride and enjoyed our day.

Inspiring: The new friendships you can nurture and completely embrace when you step out of your comfort zone.

Impossible: That at 10:30am this morning I officially turned 29!

Yes, without a doubt… I IS FOR IMPOSSIBLE!!!

POLITICAL HAIR DAZE

In this electronic offering, I would like to discuss something as simple as the fact that I was privileged enough to get my hair cut and coloured in Simcoe-Muskoka last week. 

As proof of how truly grateful I am, I have attached before and after selfies illustrating my being provided a much needed personal service that I took completely for granted.

Before and After: With selfie photoshoots happening less than a month apart.
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 2021

Before I begin my rant, I would like to insert a caveat. With all we have happening in the world right now, I wake up every morning making an honest effort to be politically diplomatic. Meaning... 'to say nothing, especially when speaking, is half the art of diplomacy.’

I will acknowledge the fact that I’m sure you're perplexed out of the gate with the concept of my saying ‘nothing.’  My choice isn't because I have decided to shy away from the comfort of confrontation, more because in the last year I tend to gut check before I engage online with a person that is being irrational; to ensure that they are NOT going to be doing the same thing. 

That said, though I have my own ideas on how we got to today, I was wondering if anyone else (specifically in Ontario) feel like the tail is now officially wagging the dog? 

Why has cart sanitation and hazard pay at the local box stores disappeared, yet my amazing hairdresser with only one chair, obsessed to comply with every safety aspect thrown at her, expected struggle to generate honest revenue and pay bills?

It makes no sense.

The fact that the 'essential' weed shop in the sleepy little town where I live is an uber small business with a line up around the corner and down the lane, yet for months I couldn't get a haircut in a shop with a single chair. Even more baffling's that the elementary schools remain open here after cases are confirmed in students, and people still can't get a f*ucking haircut!

Look, I know I am scratching a scab that has been puss filled for a year. But we are locked down in Muskoka again thanks to a supposed 'UK variant' that has landed from Ireland. How did it get here?

At this point, because we aren't allowed to travel, my best guess makes me wonder if it landed on the lid of a can of Guinness sold at the local LCBO, that slipped into the store cooler after refusing to wear mask. 

That said, did you hear?  I got my hair done. We wore masks and everything!

Had it been 72 hours later? My gal would have lost her license!!

#rantcomplete #yagottalaughaboutit #totalbullshit #limitededition 

JANUARY JUGGERNAUT

For the last decade, Friday mornings in January had me check the weather to see how low the temperature was expected to dip within the coming 48 hours.  This weekly tradition helped me understand how my weekend was going to be spent (-10C registered as balmy and -25C as housebound).

If I was lucky enough to be blessed with a mild winter, one of the two days had me strap on my snowshoes and head out with the pups. Nine times out of ten I would land at the cottage but if I did not have the luxury of half the day to myself, the golf course across the street was an excellent option for my weekly ritual. 

A few years ago, when our beloved Dotti's hips began to be an issue, my biggest winter priority was ensuring she had a series of snowshoed paths for easy access around the lower level of our yard, so she would never struggle when out to do her stinky winter thing with nature. 

With our Puddin’ entering her twilight years, it seemed my winter weekends were once again destine to be spent blazing trails with my showshoes. With her general lack of speed and muscle mass, I knew she would be appreciative to be able to navigate her turf with general freedom; and yours truly, grateful for the outdoor exercise. 

That said, with my husband having his own personal health setback at Thanksgiving, he too is in search of whatever exercise he can easily accomplish. 

You can tell by the picture I am sharing (which I snapped standing in my showshoes) that my trails are getting an updated facelift, and my longstanding pup efforts are being replaced.

Can't stop change, only manage it!
#yagottalaughaboutit
TAKEN: JANUARY 31st, 2021

I don't mind his initiative, I honestly don't. My girls will love their new trails that are wider and much easier for them to navigate. 

I guess my wee issue is that this whole lockdown situation has NOT been my friend. 

I may do my best to do my due diligence in the exercise department - only to come back into the house and enjoy a plethora of warm milk and cookies.

I know I have no one to blame but myself. But I will say, that not spending an hour every morning on my appearance to head into an office job, has enabled my keen ability to shroud myself in clothing that masks the number of calories being enjoyed at any given yummy juncture. 

Wanting to embrace my glass half full, I have decided to shift my mindset to an uber positive outlook as my appearance changes.

My new mantra? I prefer not to think of myself as overweight... 

Just substantially easier to see!!

#missionaccomplished

MY CHUCK B. TREE

Miss Annie alongside my wee Chuck B. tree.
TAKEN: DECEMBER 11th, 2020

The good news is the holiday countdown is officially on.  The bad news is, I managed to accidentally kill our very festive holiday tree. 

This year, after discovering there was a tree shortage, we picked the best of the height challenged from our local spot the end of November; then proceeded to load up a six-foot tree with the hundreds of lights that usually illuminated our regular nine-footer. 

In hindsight, I fear this was one of many deadly mistakes made.

A week or so in I noticed my wee Chuck B was not taking on water. The second week I noticed my holiday ribbon beginning to sag. Figuring he was sent to market a month before he became mine, then proudly jimmy rigged him on a glass table so his star could reach the ceiling (next to a large picture window), week three had the inevitable happened. Suffice it to say, I had to officially call his very brittle time of death. 

Not one to throw dead needles out before a celebration supper, I decided to refrain from plugging in my beloved 700+ lights until our upcoming Christmas morn. 

Meaning, the neatly wrapped gifts will be lit by a lighter shade of green on Chuck's last day, then I will have him serve as my annual Boxing Day quick burn bonfire sacrifice. In a non-religious or Game of Thrones kinda way!

Jokes aside, I’m not even remotely surprised about the general fate of my tree. As a matter a fact, as we head back toward grey-lockdown here in Ontario, I will just add it to my long list of... “I didn’t see that coming at me in 2020." Which also reinforces the important message my buddy Charlie Brown (aka - Chuck B) has been reminding me for decades: “It’s not what’s under the Christmas tree that matters. It’s who’s around it.” 

I guess the difference between this year and all others previous, is if you happen to be one of the five in my bubble on Christmas Day, I must ask that you please refrain from standing around the tree with any type of heat bearing or igniting thingamajigs.

Better yet, best ensure ugly holiday sweaters are both flame retardant and cover off at least two of the four hazard categories for arc protection and flame resistance: being the tree itself and a turkey that may burst into flames in the oven. 

Guess as a proactive measure, I should promise to have both fire extinguishers and garden hose on standby to keep our wee bubble of visitors safe from any potential and unexpected harm. Which is soothing in itself. 

But let's face it.... 

Who the hell worries about an ongoing lockdown and world pandemic risk when I'm the one cooking a butter-basted bird?!

#yagottalaughaboutit

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 

HELLO NEW-VEMBER

Loving life packing only a cellphone, a credit card & a smile!
TAKEN: OCTOBER 10th, 2013

For a number of reasons, this is one of my very favorite selfies I have ever managed to capture.  I snapped it in an absolute coffee induced euphoric state, the morning after landing in Old Montreal with a girlfriend.

As the story goes, I had seen The Eagles at the ACC in Toronto the Thursday night before, then hopped a plane to Montreal to see Bon Jovi at the Bell Centre that Saturday night. 

I remember embracing the brisk November morning with an extra skip in my step feeling like a brand new person. Not because I was going to venture into historic Vieux-Montréal and its amazing architecture, but because I had made the life changing decision to quit my dream job; a milestone that happened seven years ago this week. 

My point? 

I think some of you may be surprised to read that for the first time in years, I once again have a skip in my step and I am sporting an ear to ear smile for making yet another life altering choice. I am pleased to report that I have left my sales and marketing position within the construction industry here in Muskoka... and I couldn’t be happier.

Just like seven years ago, my decision wasn't made lightly. It was a transition I had entertained for almost six months. If I am being honest, the reason for the lag was because I had struggled to wrap my mind around the logistics of such a life altering shift. 

Like most things in life, timing is everything. I guess you could say, just like the day I snapped this selfie, I had to invest in myself and trust the timing in my life. Even with that trust, I worried my glass  may feel half empty. Hence those months it took me to finally decide. 

As everyone knows, this isn't rocket science. A job is a job, that in the end you get paid for simply doing a job - and people leave jobs all the time.

In this instance, my personal struggle came with the more than a hundred people I was blessed to get to know and work alongside of with a great sense of pride. It didn't matter which, I was connected to each and every one of them... How could I go?

In the end, transitioning has had zero effect with those I was closest with. Social media has helped close the landline conversation gap and not a day goes by that my phone isn’t a buzz with a meme, a text, or a call from one of many. I guess you could say our friendships are a different kind of payday for simply treating people the way we wanted to be treated. 

As I wrap up my post and head over to Spotify, I can't help but reflect on those amazing few days and two great back to back concerts seven years ago. Today has me embracing, blasting, and singing, a number of those really great tunes performed live. 

But for whatever reason... Already Gone by the Eagles and It's My Life by Bon Jovi seem to be bringing down the house!

Sorry. Couldn't resist the obvious comical musical punchline.

#yagottalaughaboutit

MY MARRIAGE COIN

 I read somewhere that marriage is an institution designed to let you annoy one special person for the rest of your life. Yet, I’m sure when you flip my blog and bitch about marriage coin really high into the air it would read: The perfect marriage is between a blind wife and a deaf husband.

I know you’ll probably find this hard to believe, but since opening my own business in 2004, as an entrepreneur I quickly learned to hone two very specific social skills. 

1. ALWAYS take a 24-48 hour cooling down period before speaking to whom you’re truly aggravated with, because words can never be taken back.

2. AND...Smile and be thankful for every piece of shit pie eaten that generated revenue. 

As you can see from my last couple of electronic offerings, this Covid crap has me crazy cranky.

The cherry on top of that statement is our first official summer vacation together since 2012 was received worse than Bob Dylan going electric and sadder than Levon Helm leaving The Band because of it.

We may have only been at our cottage, but it rained six out of ten days and by this past Saturday morning (when our water pump failed yet again) we both hit the ‘this fecking sucks’ wall. It was clear in our Sunday morning volume alone, we both really needed to take a break. 

I moved home with the dogs. He did not.

Now, I should share, we rarely fight nor even disagree.

The two of us at my company Christmas Party
TAKEN: DECEMBER 2000

In our many decades together we have learned to skillfully navigate each other for continued success. In this instance, our small cottage space, two wet dogs, and a thrice mis-installed water pump got the best of us.

How bad was it? If a successful marriage requires you to fall in love many times with the same person… I’m thinking by Labour Day weekend we might be ready for a lunch date.

That said, I can assure you that it was so bad, my best girlfriend will be making one of those famous ‘escape a really bad date’ phone calls; fifteen minutes in.

#yagottalaughaboutit

Y IS FOR YIKES

#YaGottaLaughAboutIT

X IS FOR X-CITED

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

V IS FOR VIEWPOINT

So much has changed within the social media ring since 2013 when I began doing the A-Z Blogging Challenge. As I share my 203rd unique April word today, with just 4 letters to go, I would be remiss if I didn’t touch on the shift in online behavior.

Because anything posted here is essentially my viewpoint, I feel I need to be clear. I always welcome that yours can differ from mine. All I expect is maturity not mudslinging when discussing a valid point.  It’s as simple as that.

Lastly 99% of what I share on my Facebook Ya Gotta Laugh About It page, is essentially about the humour, not politics nor religion. 

Please, never lose sight of that!

#yagottalaughaboutit

T IS FOR THREESOME

Fourth bestselling author of all time.
We ALL can't be wrong!
TAKEN: DECEMBER 6th, 2016

As you know, I love to read.

Nowadays, I do the majority of it online but there's really something special about being on vacation and actually holding onto a book. That said, I have taken the same author on vacation every year since the year before I got married.

I remember my first encounter with her being at the condo we were staying at, in Madeira Beach, Florida. The gal I was travelling with was in the midst of reading a book called Fine Things. She was telling me about it and it sounded intriguing. When she finished reading it, I borrowed it and was hooked; I have been reading Danielle Steel ever since.

That said, I read more of her now, than I did in the early years. When the kids were small, if I was lucky, I use to get to read two books a year. One driving to our vacation destination, the second driving home. Back then, I primarily borrowed the books from friends but for the last ten or fifteen years, I've collect the majority of them from used book stores and various yard/estate sales.

Anyway, a few summers ago when I was rearranging the spare bedroom at the cottage, I found a stash of more than 3 dozen paperbacks packed away under a bed. Rummaging through, I found a couple that I had never read before, accompanied by a couple of copies of the ones I'd liked most.

When I knew I was headed to Mexico for a couple of weeks that December, I choose carefully to fill my beachfront reading obsession.

I am pleased to report that the three (new to me) paperbacks that traveled from home, returned to my bookshelf at the cottage the following spring, and they did not disappoint.

Thanks again Mexico... You provided me with MY KINDA THREESOME!

Q IS FOR QUIP

YES OR NO?
Simple quips help when you're having a bad day?
For me? ...100% YES!!

G IS FOR GRASS

I am a firm believer that the grass is never greener on the other side.
It only appears that way... Because it's showered with bullshit!

F IS FOR FITNESS

Driving by Snap Fitness yesterday, I laughed aloud when I read their marquee: “If your dog is fat… You're not getting enough exercise!” 

Personally, I thought the message was brilliant.

I walk far more than the recommended 10,000 steps a day, and I am very outgoing in every other facet of my life. I watch what I eat, and I certainly don't feel nor act my age.

Keeping with that last thought, my personal fitness guru was telling me that eating chocolate releases the same endorphins as having an orgasm.  Intrigued by the statement, I decided to do some basic math. 

The average chocolate bar contains 884 calories.  Having sex, can burn up to 300 calories per half hour.

Dottie enjoying our Book Club offering!
TAKEN: JULY 2012

Hmmm, I say the perfect solution is to enjoy an amazing two hour romp, and avoid any type of chocolate offering all together. 

That gives me a big bonus 1200 calories burned, and a perma smile that will stay with me way longer than any silly Kit Kat bar can possibly offer!

Now that right there is some serious calorie counting I can throw my back into! Guess I need to whip my husband into shape.

Whip? Maybe, not.

Blindfold? Definitely, MAYBE!