Wednesday, November 14, 2018

MY 'FALL BACK' BLUES

Loving life, Los Cobos
& the Sea of Cortez!
TAKEN: DECEMBER 1st, 2015
In the midst of planning a winter girlz getaway this coming February, I reflected.  For the first time since November 2014, I have to deal with my seasonal affective ‘Fall Back Blues’ without a juicy jolt of Vitamin D.

Truth of the matter is that this time around I entered into the annual grove feeling amazing, as well as completely mentally prepared. So much so that I was generally confident those suckers would stay at bay.

Then, by the time I went to bed last Saturday night, I knew certain tell-tale behaviours had effortlessly latched onto me without warning.

For example, even though I slept very well Friday night, I felt a strong cosmic pull toward my king-size bed late Saturday morn.  That undeniable force had me act on an innate desire to be bundled up like a mama bear bumbling to her den for the winter; and for the record, I'm not exactly proud of what followed.

For what it's worth, I am generally embarrassed to admit that I folded like a lawn chair & curled up in said bed with my three pups (and as many blankets) submitting to the molecular desire to delve into the exponentially spellbinding plot twists of a handful of Hallmark Christmas movies.

Even worse, in the midst of my much needed 'everyone lives happily ever after' fix, I ate junk food. After the bag of chocolate covered peanuts were devoured, I chowed down on fresh bread and butter (which I haven’t in months). Then, to compound both of the above, I swear I looked in the fridge at least a dozen times for my go to comfort food. I am pleased to report that my husband seriously keeps that shit locked down, so I failed to consume any gravy!

Laugh if you must but I am being completely honest.  My exciting ‘glass half full’ epiphany is that by 8pm Saturday night I recognized I was in a junk food/fully indulgent BAD movie vortex, which in itself was an amazing breakthrough for me. 

As you know, since my Dad passed in 2005, food has always been something I’ve had to tread lightly with. I am an emotional eater, and it appears the fall-back time change admittedly connects my lack of light with very stupid dietary decisions.

I am so very grateful to be able to talk about my struggle here but I am most appreciative of the career crew I have in my everyday life. They know how hard I work to maintain a good diet and healthy lifestyle, and they recognize my wins. It is amazing to be surrounded by a tightly knit group of people that unconditionally support each other. Every. Single. Day.

Oh, and to my husband... for hiding the gravy.

Really. I'm dead serious. Gravy is the devil!!

Sunday, October 28, 2018

FOUR VALID POINTS

Let me set the tone by sharing that a male friend of mine posted an meme on Instagram yesterday that literally made me laugh out loud. It referenced general communication most married couples relate to.
It read: 
My wife just stopped & said, “You weren’t even listening were you?” 
I thought… “That’s a pretty weird way to start a conversation?!” 

To create a context for that comment, there’s an old adage that a men & women have so many words they must verbalize in a day. By the time a man gets home, he’s used up all his words. But, because his wife’s words are at least double, she wants to talk for hours after her man ultimately wants quiet...Which is NOT the case here.

Even though I am a full blown extrovert, I deal with so many people on any given work day that I have no desire to be the least bit chatty when I get home. The same goes for when we travel. It’s like we completely switch our day to day personas. He wants to participate in every single event by the pool (not to mention lead the conga line at night) and I want to quietly exist on the periphery with a good book.

To further that, in day to day life this last year, the less we communicate, the better we co-exist.

As I reflect on that last comment I realize in the early days, I expected him to be able to read my mind. As the first & second decades passed, I began to understand repeating myself multiple times was generally what I signed up for. Now, 99% of the time, I just take care of what I need done without asking. This simple tweak's rewarded me a strange sense of accomplishment, eliminating a track record of disappointment.

As an example, we closed the cottage today and very few words were exchanged. We headed in with a task to be completed, and in less than a hour we were headed home. Could it be that all these years later, there are no real need for extra words? 

Part of me thinks it's because we know the other and our routine so well that there isn't a need for dialogue. The other side of that coin is that in the past 30+ years I have come to realize the following:

i)   He can't, nor has any desire to read my mind.
ii)  Never test him on what I am feeling, because he will fail.
iii) Don't dry hump a scenario for a change in attitude. It will only result in chaffing.
iv) Lastly, when truly seeking undivided conversation, always lead with an engaging topic. (My personal experience is that the top ten topics are generally sexual in nature.)

What can I say? Over the years, we've both discovered less is ultimately more. Which is why I found that Instagram post so gosh dang funny...

I don't care who you are.

Always root for the amateurs trying to make a go of it!

The hat wearing husband & his sun kissed hag embracing Muskoka cottage life.
TAKEN: CANADA MAY 2-4, 2011

Sunday, October 21, 2018

ORANGE YOU GLAD?

Anyone else have pumpkim carving intuition?
TAKEN: OCTOBER 20th, 2018

As I sit here typing toasty warm, whilst enjoying the fire in the woodstove with my pups at my feet, I can't help but sip my Sunday morning coffee and smile. Feeling blessed, yet again, that my 'happy place' tends to unconditionally provide us with a sheer sense of contentment.

This past weekend, we were pleasantly surprised to land to a much milder Saturday afternoon than expected. As a result, the last of the wood was split & piled, and the remaining brush was burned. I gotta tell ya, it feels great that nothing aches when I kill it outside like I did yesterday. Let's just say that I don't feel even close to the age that my passport hastily reports me to be.

Anyway, worried the weather was going to take a turn for the worst, it was decided that this past weekend was the perfect time to close everything down as well as do my traditional annual cottage carve that doesn't involve a turkey. Suffice is to say, I went shopping and found the above beauty for a whopping $2.88!

The good news is that I found the perfect pumpkin, the bad news is that I couldn't bring myself to carve it until next weekend. Like so many things in our everyday lives, my beloved creative gourd tradition reminded me (yet again) that timing is everything.

You know what I mean. When to buy, or when to sell. When to embrace, or when to let go.... Or in this case, when to carve, or when to admire. I guess you can say that I believe (in all of the above situations) our personal intuition generally wins out over any conscious reasoning. I consider great instincts right up there with keen practical common sense; where very few have one, let alone both.

For what it's worth, I am a firm believer that this time of year is always a great time for what I would call a 'fall cleaning'. You get rid of what you no longer need nor embrace, and that general cleanse process leaves you feeling great. I guess I feel less material and/or emotional baggage to carry through one of our long Canadian winters, makes snowshoeing in January a hell of a lot easier.

Soooo... Orange you glad that this glorious season labelled 'fall' exemplifies how beautiful it can be to weather great challenges, finally let go, then ultimately start over?

Me too!

Monday, October 8, 2018

A FRESH FALL START

A very uneventful September ended with me home sick in bed, and October started with my taking last Friday off as an extended long weekend. I wish was I reporting that it was because I'd planned some sexy adventure, but the truth is I landed at the cottage first thing Friday to pile enough wood to get through this fall, as well as make it possible to stay between Christmas & New Years. An annual tradition I always look forward to.

Thanks to the sub-zero weather Friday morning offered, I landed and immediately built a fire in the woodstove to warm everything up. Once that had me toasty, I had zero ambition to start my wood cutting mission. Instead, arose early Saturday and headed outside to tackle the physically exhausting task at hand.

After close to 20 seasons of Orillia Lake cottage life, this was definitely a season of great change. The two sisters to the left of us swiftly sold their cottage, while the American widower to the right sold via a private sale and fled back to his homeland Labour Day weekend. I was sad to see him go but understand why. He unexpectedly lost his wife on New Years day 2017. She was the Canadian in the duo, so the sale wasn't entirely unexpected. The surprising tidbit's that there's general interest and buzz to privately purchase our humble abode as well.

Though our selling was officially tabled in May of this year, I think the part that surprises me most about our digs is even though the kids have no desire to come out and stay anymore, I seem to be attached to this silly piece property more than ever. I love that I am outside more than in, and I truly feel I am at my best there, not to mention that fall is always absolutely amazing.

So, as my favourite month creeps into the one I dread most, I honestly can't believe Thanksgiving is already behind us. A quiet celebration at the house yesterday left me not only thankful but also very grateful.

Grateful I've discovered that sometimes the smallest step in the right direction, can be some of the biggest steps in your life... and secondly, and equally as important, is that people will come and people will go. Those meant to be, will always want to stay!

Happy (Canadian) Thanksgiving all. I truly appreciate you reading.

Enjoying my happy place, alone, in the rain.
TAKEN: OCTOBER 6th, 2018

Sunday, September 30, 2018

THE ELECTRONIC TRUTH

Last week I got into a powerful and somewhat emotional disagreement via text message with a a person I would generally classify as an electronic friend. You know the type, those that claim to be your friend, yet go out of their way to only communicate with you via text message or social media.

It’s been my experience that those specific types of friendships generally evolve with people you once worked with, or acquaintances you met though someone else that somehow want to maintain an unconventional personal connection.

The latter are those that surround the periphery, generally checking in to see how you’re doing, sharing photos and tidbits of mutual interest when they have a minute. Some, not all, can be exhausting and definitely time consuming.

That said, my disagreement was with an electronic peep that was a combination of both. They were an interesting character, and I knew early on that they had a personal agenda toward me within the construction industry. So much so, that they generally only came a texting when in need of something; flaunting their classic M.O., that they 'missed me'.

Because I've always been in tune with the above specifics of said person, over the last several years there have been times with large lapses of any communication, primarily because they'd always end up breaching my trust. With each instance, I withdrew further and further away from them. Yet, for them, once they'd manage to reinstate any contact they felt they were in the position of unconditional access to my network, not to mention my positive albeit sarcastic & somewhat entertaining electronic energy.

Does anyone else reading here have some serious trust issues? Because I for one, most certainly do. As I reflect inward, I’m not sure what they stem from, but I can tell you they truly exist. So when the right circumstances align, I find myself devastated. A while back I remember reading a  text book analogy on the subject, being: “Breaking someone’s trust is like crumpling up a perfect piece of paper. You can smooth it over but it’s never going to be the same again.”

Though it saddens me to admit that after crumpling and trying to smooth over the same piece of paper, the years have taken their toll and I asked them never to contact me again. The reasoning for my request was that they offered me advice on sorting out some of my issues, stating ‘it’s what friends do’. After sleeping on it Friday night, I realized that I only had one issue. Singular. Them. To which I knew would evaporate by ending any future contact.

Look, we all know that good communication is tough enough face to face, rather than relying on your thumbs to bear the burden of any general message. That said, I worry each of my electronic friends will wonder if it’s them that I’m writing about. I can assure it's not. You see, I am confident the one I am writing about will never stop by here again.

Suffice is to say, I consider his aptly labelled ongoing 'issue'... officially resolved!

A perfect image to illustrate that trust is earned.
TAKEN: NOVEMBER 2nd, 2014


Tuesday, September 25, 2018

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!

Tuesday, September 18, 2018

SOME SUPER SIMPLE ADVICE

“Stay away from negative people... 
They always have a problem for every solution!” 
~ Albert Einstein

Are you going to Heaven or Hell?
I believe that you are perpetuating
one or the other in your everyday life!
TAKEN: JULY 2014
I have been doing a lot of reading lately about personalities. Not in the ‘disorder’ sense, that I have party of fifteen going on in my head & I’m the hostess. More about how to cope in a sandbox that can quickly fill up with hardwired negative minded peeps.

For quite sometime, I've been struggling with a person I must interact with on a regular basis. This past spring it became increasingly taxing, so I decided to delve in, research, and try to understand why.  

As expected, my surfing led me from one link to another, until I landed on a podcast that resonated. Short story long, it ended up discussing the theory of how our personality ultimately falls into one of three categories; positive, neutral, or negative.

Following that thought process and expanding my reading led me to my next clarifying moment: That a negative person doesn't really understand that they're negative, more they matter-a-factly find someone with a true positive vibe downright annoying.

That said, the more I read, the more I understood that a negative person that is forced to interact on a regular basis with a positive or neutral person, unleashes their mental frustrations by exercising passive aggressive tenancies; which are meant specifically to belittle, whilst pacifying their need for making the other feel as they do about their outlook on life in general.

Y'all know I steer clear of religion and politics here. And if you're looking for a free psychiatric assessment, I haven't a clue what I am talking about, so click the big X in the top right hand corner of your screen and move along.

What I will say, is that I honestly believe that life is all about personal choices. I never focus on what will happen in the afterlife, rather I am more about embracing a heaven or a hell each and every day.

How so?

Simple....

I believe if you always keep your face in the sunshine, it's hard to get lost in the sheer darkness that lurks in the shadows that will forever surround.

My 2 cents!

Sunday, September 9, 2018

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!

Monday, September 3, 2018

DO YOU BELIEVE IN SIGNS?

Just like I do every long weekend, I watch the weather like a hawk to ensure I get at least one sunny day of rest. And by rest, I mean totally ignore the long list of things I need to do and willfully bask in the sunshine. Well, that day this Labour Day weekend was this past Saturday.

When the rain hit just before dawn Sunday morning my sleep was quickly interrupted. That, combined with the pups getting me up earlier than I would have liked, left me generally grumpy. Dark cloud over head, I greeted the day and the chores I wanted to tackle.

I knew I wanted to get some fall cottage cleaning done, so jacked full of caffeine, I decided to move around some furniture, which lead me to organizing the plethora of Trivial Pursuit board games I collect: which I rarely play anymore.

Anyway, I should probably preface that I got a somewhat unsettling text message around dinner time Saturday evening, which may or may not have led to my sleeplessness. In the end, for the twelve or so hours that followed, I kept asking myself… “What would Dad think I should do?”

As I continued the task of gathering my useless crap, I landed where the games have had their home since the cottage was purchased. When I opened the lid, all I could do was smile. Unexpectedly, my father was in the moment with me in spirit. You see, I had forgotten that he had made the toy box for my son’s birthday back in 1996 and left him a personal message using a wood soldering gun.

My dad always shows up when I least expect him.
(To protect my son's identity, I have covered his given name)
TAKEN: SEPTEMBER 2nd, 2018

























As I pulled all the board games out of the box to reorganize, all I could think of was Jukebox in poppa’s livingroom, showing him all his all his slick Power Ranger moves and my dad pretending to be the villain Jukebox was ultimately trying to slay.

Just like that, the thought of them removed any & all grumpy stupidity, and I knew I’d ultimately made the right decision the night before. How about you? Do you believe in signs?... I most certainly do.

Grateful my father's presence reminds me that everything is going to be "better"!

Thursday, August 30, 2018

I'LL ALWAYS SAVE A SPOT

It was three years ago this month that a long-time acquaintance took a total leap of faith with this cat and decided to let me carpool with her. Though we’d known the other for over twenty years, our interactions for the decade previous were completely selfish on my part; with my continually tapping into her wealth of compliance knowledge within the construction industry.

As luck would have it, our new found arrangement and getting into the groove of really knowing the other once again, was like riding a bike. That twenty minute daily commute didn’t take us long to realize we had more in common than we could possibly imagine. 

From the get go, our morning routine ranged from both of us yelling at incompetent drivers, to one convincing the other that a death wish drive-thru breakfast sandwich would never in a million years harden our arteries. For forty minutes a day, we quickly and very easily morphed into Thelma & Louise.

As an unexpected bonding bonus, last summer I was ecstatic when she invited me to join in her yoga classes at the local community centre that were geared specifically to municipal employees. Once again, she had taken me under her wing, and willingly toured me around the dance floor.

Our last practice with Ashley this summer.
TAKEN: AUGUST 30th, 2018

















Well, it is with a heavy heart that I realized tonight the reality that my SweeneyMeister is retiring at the end of this year. I swear it wasn't until tonight, and the brutal realization that it was her last practice with the lady that made her fall in love with yoga, that the alarm bells went off.

Knowing the great respect she and Ashley have for each other, I felt the need to capture tonight for prosperity. Though I did take a picture of my favourite three at the end of our practice, I will admit  that I like this one the best.

It solidifies, without a doubt, that not only is my my quirky carpool sidekick very serious about yoga.... but that she also makes sure she saves my spot.

I love you my friend. I truly believe we were always meant to reconnect.

Nameste.

Sunday, August 26, 2018

A SIMPLE ACT OF HONESTY

I don’t think I've ever shared this here, but I arrange/prepare/serve lunch every Friday for the core team that works from our main office. My boss started the tradition over a decade ago, with the thought process being that if everyone worked through lunch at their desks Monday to Thursday, the Friday eats would be on him. So, when I joined the company in 2015 I was glad to sit on the lunch committee; which has since evolved to primarily being me.

Anyway, last Friday I went to the local butcher mid-morning to pick up what I was going to BBQ. When I stepped to the counter to pay, I noticed the person beside me was an acquaintance I've known for about fifteen years. In 2014, he opened his own business and hired me as a feasibility consultant for a not for profit project he was involved in. He never paid me what I was owed, instead he kept the money for himself.

Bad debt story aside, when he asked a generic question about my order and I didn’t reply, out of the corner of my eye I saw him turn toward me. Low and behold he was excited to see me. His arms opened wide to greet me, his face lit up, and then with great animation he said… “Well, look who it is!”

“You look great," he continued.  "Is life treating you well?”

Without turning my head to make eye contact, I gave a swift one word answer: ‘very’. (In that life's treating me very well.) To which I proceeded to ask the lovely clerk how much I owed her. Realizing my opinion of him hadn't changed, he simply offered me to have a nice day and went on his way.

Just so we're clear, my reaction wasn't because I’m bitter. The emotion of dealing with him left me years ago when I chose not to take him to small claims court. The point of my post is that in any moments like those, I feel it more important to put forth an honest energy, rather than engaging the other & acting fake.

Let's face it, it wouldn't have done any good to lead this person to believe that anything had changed simply because we’d bumped into each other at the butcher counter. I truly wish him nothing but great success. He’s a very nice person. Just not an ethical business person in my books.

Which brings us around to another basic Rhondi Rule:
My personal life experience is that being honest & true to yourself may not generate a plethora of "friends". But what is will do, is most certainly have you surrounded with the ones you can count on... that ultimately, you know you can trust.

Oh, on the 411? The Morley Burgers that were BBQ'd last Friday were DEEEElicious.

Thanks for asking!

I will take the company of a good book over fake friends... any day.
TAKEN: JULY 8th, 2017