WE BOUGHT ANOTHER BOAT

Well, we unexpectedly bought another boat. 

It will be our fourth motorized vessel in the twenty plus years we have owned Orillia Lake. It wasn’t a planned purchase but one we both agreed on. It is a twenty-foot Doral bowrider; in absolute mint condition with less than 100 hours of total motor use time.

Feel free to help us name her!
TAKEN: SPRING 2023

Greatful that Cousin Jim (rear seen here, with his grandson on the rod) decided to upgrade!
TAKEN: SUMMER 2023

The first few years after our cottage purchase, we got by with a five-seater paddle boat, a row boat, and parasailing board the kids could dive off of. Ultimately, the first motorized boat we bought was an older SeaRay waterski boat. 

We bought it to encourage our kids to want to stay at the cottage more often. It turned out, we would float with the pups in the middle of the lake so that I could read a book in the sun and never used it for much more than that. 

Wrought with mechanical issues, we ended up giving her away to a friend of a friend as we were tired paying to have her repaired.

Our first...
TAKEN: JUNE 2010

Next, was our beloved Bessie Bowrider that we paid a whopping $300 for... and the trailer was included in the price.

Her saving grace was that her previous owner was a mechanic. Sure, she would take in a wee bit of water through the week but nothing a ShopVac couldn’t remedy. The pups loved her.

Spottie & Puddin' rocking Bessie bow rider!
TAKEN: AUGUST 2014

A neighbour kept the road open a couple of winters ago, and she was stolen from the end of our driveway. Not wanting to invest in another, we replaced her with Stella the floating picnic table - which is propelled by an electric trolling motor.

Always a conversation piece on the lake, our bubble as well as the pups were grateful for Stella during Covid. 

Spending the afternoon on Stella
(l-r: Miya, Goob, Mac, Annie, Cappy-T, Puddin')
TAKEN: AUGSUT 2022

Now, we know better than most, that this (new to us) bow rider is far larger than we need, but our final decision to buy took multiple things into consideration.

Though older, it has been babied and has only had one owner. We know for a fact that they could have sold her online for far more than we are paying, but a good home was one of their personal criteria. That, combined that it is a familial sale made the price so good, we couldn't refuse.

Lastly, our decision came from the fact that we know that we will eventually be selling the cottage (not sure when but it will be sold) and this boat will keep us and the pups touring the amazing lakes in Muskoka for years to come.

To be honest, it isn't the $3,500 price tag that concerns us, it's the price of fuel to get her off the dock. 

So grateful we already own a killer trolling motor!!

#yagottalaughaboutit

CARVED ONE, THEN CLOSED IT

The Oreo Gang making sure my husband is disconnecting the water intake properly.
(Miya Maria on the rock, Katie Lulu on the step, and Annie Bannanie on the hill)
TAKEN: OCTOBER 29th, 2023

Over the years, more often than not, we head into the cottage for the last Saturday in October so I can carve a pumpkin. Then, the following morning, we pack everything up and close it down for the season.

For me, this year in particular, was like no other at the cottage to date. I worked from my upstairs office space four days a week,  and usually in my bathing suit. Though my workload was grueling and my days were long, there is something to be said for looking out from your desk seeing the water.

As you know, this was our wee Katie's first year at Orillia Lake, and she embraced everyday like it would be her last. Saying that she loves absolutely everything about cottage life would be an understatement. 

Miya, though still a pup herself, simply couldn't keep up with KT's high energy zoomies. Annie, now a sexy senior in her own right, stayed at my feet the majority of the season, with the odd burst of puppy like behaviour shining through about once a week; it was perfect.

As far as upkeep goes, each year we tend to alternate from interior upgrades, to exterior elbow grease. This past season, a lot of our focus was spent outside. 

We had wanted to replace all main floor flooring this year, but a milestone anniversary had us take a last minute trip to Jamaica in June to celebrate. I love how we mutually decided, with a 'let's go for it' for good measure, that my saved flooring dollars would more than pay for our unexpected excursion nicely.

That said, though I know I will get my new floors next spring, a bush hog for the exterior is definitely a must have as well. Every second 'working the lands' year arrives with such optimism. We always have such a positive outlook on the clearing, hauling and burning brush at the cottage property from hell.

This year, we finally came to the terms that we aren't in our 30's anymore - and we are definitely Stihl in need of extra help, as no one ever offers. (Get that? Stihl, I mean still!)

Anyway, as an aside, as a woman in construction in Muskoka I can't stress enough how hard it is to find good ticketed trades to service the home and cottage industry here. 

Closing our cottage gives me hope we may have reprieve on the horizon. As you can see from my Sunday morning pic, we officially have three new furry plumbing apprentices.

All wanting wanting to help with the task of turning off the water for the season.

#yagottalaughaboutit

MY COUNTRY MUSIC QUARTET

Old Dominion - top left (ScotiaBank Arena) TAKEN: January 28th, 2023
Zac Brown Band - Top right (Budweiser Stage) TAKEN: July 14th, 2023
Chris Stapleton - Bottom left (Budweiser Stage) TAKEN: August 17th, 2023
Mary Chapin Carpenter - Bottom right (Ryman Auditorium) TAKEN: October 8th, 2023 

I have always appreciated all types of music, but for the last six or seven years, I have found myself gravitating to the channels offerings country on my Sirius satellite app. Suffice it to say, not many were surprised to discover that we landed in Nashville.

I think what might surprise most, is that all tickets purchased for my country music quartet were purchased with less than a month of them all landing on stage. All (except Chapin Carpenter at the Ryman Auditorium) were purchased off Ticketmaster - resale.

Now, I am not proud of what I paid for the tickets, with Old Dominion being the least expensive at a little over $100 each, and Chris Stapleton being the most expensive at just over $1,500 for the pair.

My first three experiences, were so high energy that I headed for the exit with little to no voice from yelling so loud, the fourth (an intimate acoustic presentation) moved me to my musical core. All of them left me completely and unequivocally entertained. Honestly, concert dollars very well spent!

I have always been an avid concert goer, and no genre is off limits. For instance, when we were in Nashville, we toured the Country Music Hall of Fame and explored some of the roof top honky tonk's on October 9th. Then, walked back to our condo off Broadway just in time to sit on our balcony and watch the sunset. 

On a whim, I logged onto Ticketmaster and purchased two stage left Jonas Brothers tickets at Bridgestone Arena (where the Nashville Predictors play). With less than an hour left before they hit the stage, we took our ten minute walk to the venue. They too brought down the house.

Ramping up to perform (Joe's hit) Cake By The Ocean to a packed Bridgestone Arena.
TAKEN: OCTOBER 9th, 2023

Anyway, I remember having a conversation with my brother this summer and he felt the need to point out that my dogs were a luxury. Though I understood his point, I told him that 'my dogs were a necessity that my husband and I couldn't live without'. 

Which in a nutshell, aside from being a mega fan, is why I clicked the Ticketmaster button and bought the Stapleton tickets; exactly three days later. 

My dogs a luxury? Nope. 

It is my concert going habit that wins his specific label. All the monies spent on tickets, hotels, flights, food and spirits? 

THEY... THEM....THOSE.  Will always be the biggest luxury of my life!!

SIMPLY, UNFORGETTABLE

Last week, when I posted photos of my Canadian Thanksgiving travels on social media as they were happening, I was proud to share that we had included experiencing the spectacular 'Mother Church' of country music in downtown Nashville, Tennessee. 

What I was somewhat surprised to admit (after leaving the building) was that my amazing and intimate musical experience presented at the Ryman Auditorium was simply mind blowing!!

My beautiful exterior shot from across the street, and our third row balcony
seats preshow. (No video or photography is allowed once the show starts.)
TAKEN: OCTOBER 8th, 2023

Yet, it's hard to believe our weeklong vay-cay happened somewhat coincidentally. 

You see, I have a coworker that traveled to Music City last spring to see Luke Combs perform at Bridgestone Arena. With my husband and I having two full weeks off at the end of the year, I thought I would checkout the Air BnB she'd been raving about for availability.

Turned out our festive holidays timelines weren't available, yet the week of Canadian Thanksgiving was. Without a plan, we booked The Burnham (a ten minute walk to Broadway) and we had less than a month to hatch the rest of our plan.

I knew instinctively, we couldn't go to Nashville and not experience the Ryman Auditorium. Without hesitation, I purchased tickets to see Mary Chapin Carpenter and Shawn Colvin. 

As a 1990's country follower, I was familiar with the success of Carpenter,  I only knew Colvin to have one hit with 'Sonny Came Home.' Without reserve, I clicked that famous Ticketmaster button and bought us 3rd row balcony tickets as shown above.

From the moment you approach the exterior architecture of this historic 2,362 seat live-performance venue, you could feel its distinctive vibe. An Instagram follower hit the nail on the head when he commented on my exterior shot with... "Oh the ghosts that reside there, you can feel the history when you visit!"

He's right, this is hallowed ground filled with her spiritual sounds. It truly is a sacred place for any music lover, celebrating all music genres in every sacred pew.

Oh, and the Mary/Shawn duo literally brought down the house. 

The entire evening was... Simply, unforgettable.

FALL COTTAGE LIFE

I honestly make an effort to watch the sunrise at least once a cottage season.
(This photo represents my 23rd year.)
TAKEN: SEPTEMBER 16th, 2023

Personally, I feel the one thing about owning a cottage, is that you yearn to be there whenever you’re not, with an underlying goal to never leave once you've arrived. 

One of the many silver linings for me, is that it's the bubble in my life where my peeps around the lake  simply know and love me as 'that cottage gal from town'. 

Over the years, they have come to the realization that I don't have much desire to use makeup, nor that I need to make any type of fashion statement. I don't think they even know how much effort goes into my hair in the real world;  which IS absolutely super spectacular!!

The negation of all of those time absorbing little things on a daily basis only scratch the surface of the perks of cottage living. I am much more in tune with the amazing energy that being next to the water creates, because that is how I spent my formative years. My husband enjoys it, yet I feel he would agree to sell this space I love, in a heartbeat. 

His internal loathing for the cottage is that my "Honey-Do Chores Together Lists" drives him bonkers - and every weekend, there are tasks that must be done. I swear the only thing that keeps him focused is that he knows there is a cold beer in the fridge waiting for him when we're done. So, even with retirement on the horizon, we continue to persevere.

As the days get shorter and colder, I have the time to reflect on how my cottage life this summer and my personal work life balance have evolved yet again. 

Me working from there full time and having (two out of three) dogs in need of a level of constant engagement, was more exhausting than I ever expected. I swear my right arm bicep grew this summer by throwing items to be fetched into the lake from the top deck... With double muscle growth happening on those peak days I had to endure the rain; ensuring my mature Annie didn't get lost in our puppy kerfuffle.

Either way, with my cottage office space in full gear, I believe I will be able to stay right up until it is time to winterize it. We have done weekends in the past but never lived there together through the week after Labour Day. 

And you know what? I am excited to try. We've never ventured into this territory in our twenty three seasons.... 

Should be interesting!

BLUE MOON MUSINGS

Earlier this week, I brought the dogs into town as I had both in-office and site meetings, and moving them for the night made the most sense. On in-office meeting day, the gang of girls were as good as gold. Site meeting day, all freaking hell broke loose.

After I got the steam to stop rolling out of my ears, I cleaned the upper level disaster zone, then posted on social media:

Anyone want a dog or three?

Had an early site meeting on Lake Muskoka, only to return home to discover the dogs 'ate my homework!'

...AND my brand new sandals, two pairs of flip flops, three pens, and a jumbo role of toilet paper making it look like it snowed in here!!

#notimpressed #bad #katielulu #anniebananie #miyamaria #thissucks

Left: The Oreo Gang on National Dog Day
Right: Some home office evidence of evil!
Taken: August 25th & 29th, 2023

When I was going through the comments and reactions, I noticed our breeder responded saying  that her gang had been evil devil babies as well, noting, 'there must be something in the air.'

It was in that moment I had a genuine lightbulb moment. It dawned on me that the blue moon was upon us. Could that have been what made them all go batshit crazy?

So, I Googled, can a dog sense a full moon? This is what came back (via wagwalking.com): Your dog may seem to be much more alert, they may bark and howl more, they may growl, begin to chew things they normally would not, and may pace a lot if they are feeling restless and antsy. In all my years of having pups, I had no idea.

What I will say, is that when Katie came home in January, I was already working from home four days a week. I had a plan for her ongoing teething and had puppy proofed our home. As she grew there were challenges but nothing like what I came home to a couple of days ago. The difference this week was I knew all three participated; which has never happened before.

I will say, they do have a good gig living at the cottage but it's not like they are living in a van down by the river in town. They've got it really good. I will admit, now that I've calmed down, I think they are all beginning to suffer from a bit of separation anxiety as our routine is really quite regimented.

I start work an hour early every day so that I can exercise them three time a day, which they have come to know as recess. With three dog beds at my feet at my top of the stairs make shift cottage office, they tend to sleep while I work and talk on the phone knowing recess will eventually arrive. 

At the end of the day, I guess I'm just really pissed they ate my shoes. Even then, I suppose it's my fault. 

For whatever reason, I seem to keep buying their favourite flavours! 

#yagottalaughaboutit

TAXATION TRASH TALKING

Can you believe this isn't even our trash at the end of our driveway?
TAKEN: MONDAY AUGUST 7th, 2023

As we headed home the Monday of the August long weekend, I witnessed something I hadn’t in out more than two decades of cottage ownership. It was the local garbage truck backing down our private road, offering the first shred of proof that my big tax contributions really DO pay for something.

When we initially bought on Orillia Lake, that first summer, our American neighbours invited us over for lunch. We thought it generally hospitable, then early in the onset of us sitting down we discovered they had a specific ask: Please, 'always keep your garbage picked up’ was their reason for our invitation.

Now we knew we were buying the place from a couple of hippies, that was a given based on the interior décor and paraphernalia, not to mention the Mexican sweat tent located near the water. It was a cash deal with a three week close, so we were relieved knowing they had to take all of their crap with then as part of the agreement of purchase and sale.

Well, we bought the end of November with a December 20th close. It wasn't until spring when we really got a good look at the lay of the land that we discovered there had been a garbage dump at the upper level where we would park our car.

Flashing again to our lunch date, the nice folks from Connecticut informed us that they had previously had terrible trouble with bears, skunks, foxes and other wildlife - as the upper garbage buffet was serving yummy meals, year round, 24-7. 

I remember we spent our first twelve weekends just tending with the mess and all these years later, shards of glass show up out of no where after a downpour, as a reminder of the shits show we willfully purchased.

Out of respect for the ask and our own common sense, we have never left trash out for the taking. The truth is that we have access to a commercial garage bin and are not charged tipping fees; which has made our habit an easy one to adapt to.

What I will say, is that as the driver backed by, he rolled down his window to comment that as first on the road, he recalls that we have always have out trash out. My husband let him know that we NEVER leave our trash at the end of the drive. It is always taken into town.

What we do, is we pay it forward. We've let our cottage road community know, that if they have extra trash, to leave it at the end of our drive. No need for them to pay tipping fees, when the only service we get for our tax dollars goes unused. 

I guess my point is if these were the only two bags of garbage left at the end of my drive in a year - they would have the value of a trip for two (all inclusive) to beautiful Jamaica.

FIRST CLASS.... and with a private car escorting them to the resort!!

SMILING WITH MY DAD

Technically a 2nd cousin we consider her a neice.
We truly consider her father my husbands' brother.
TAKEN: JULY 23rd, 2023

In my life thus far, I have had the privilege to come in contact and get to know an above average number of people; and none compare to this sweet girl my husband proudly calls his 'very favourite cuz!'  (Slang for cousin.)

Due to multiple neurological surgeries as a toddler, she's technically classified as developmentally disabled - but I swear, if everyone on earth had her optimistic outlook toward others, the world would definitely be a much better place.

Anyway, home to do chores Sunday, in late afternoon I was sitting at the kitchen table and I could hear someone calling my name from afar. As I looked over my shoulder out to the street I glimpsed a grin from ear to ear. There she was, her arms waving with excitement that she would get to stop by for a visit.

When we arrived outside she noticed my Petro Canada glass I had in hand. She commented that it was pretty and I told her the stories about my collecting them. She curiously asked me, "did I ever meet your dad?" She continued, "do you think he remembered meeting me?" So into the house I went to get the photo albums.

Pictures of our families camping at my dad cottage. Photos of her mom (which we lost to cancer in 2004) with her dad and siblings, all of us having a blast with my dad. She loved looking at all the photos and said she enjoyed my husband and I reminiscing.

Then came the big moment. I asked her to have a drink of Sprite with my dad. 'It's tradition', I said. She was elated. 

As she stood behind her bike and held up her glass, he tone became particularly firm and serious.

Make sure you hold the camera up on an angle from above.... she said. 'I don't want people to see my double chin.'

A beautiful heart and soul that also knows how to take a proper selfie. Not gonna lie, I was shocked that in the moment she directed me so specifically - but just look at that smile. The photo is absolutely gorgeous.

Just like her!!

NIFTY NINTIES NINTENDO

When I moved to the cottage last week, I brought along items that could keep me occupied without an internet connection. Books I haven’t read, puzzles I haven’t done, recipes I haven’t made, and the Super Nintendo Classic that Jukebox lent me years ago.

Now, I should share that I am in no way a video ‘gamer’. 

The controller may be smaller but the level of frustration is not!
TAKEN: JULY 8th, 2023

Even though the mini knockoff (of the original full-size console we owned in the early 2000’s) is preloaded with twenty-one games, I have only ever played one - Super Mario World. Believe it or not, playing it holds some great memories for me.

You see, when Jukebox (who IS a gamer) first started playing as a tween, this is the one game we always played together. So, with my chores done and my husband on the couch with a bum ankle, I decided to take a step back in time. Using a smart TV that doubles as my second computer screen, I fired up this bad boy.

When the music came on I was immediately taken back to sitting on the floor in front of our old 20” coloured TV on Toronto Street. He and I in our jammies, on Saturday morn, where and when we always had fun.

Back then, when I struggled with the lower levels my son would sense my frustration and step in and help me move forward by completing the level, as he was worked toward beating the entire game; which he did multiple times before the system was sent to pasture.

Like I always say, you can’t stop change only manage it. More than twenty years later, when I struggled to remember how to access the secret worlds (back then I had my son) I discovered a had a new copilot to help me through: Google.

That said, playing this little gizmo sends the same message decades later confirming my efforts are consistent and equal from playing on Saturday mornings all those years ago... 

I STILL and always will suck at playing video games!

Important Notable: 

Though every five deaths Mario tells me my game is over, I am not going to give up. 

It might take me all summer to get through the first level but my glass half full will be very pleased it didn't take me until Thanksgiving. #yagottalaughaboutit

HAPPY CANADA D‘EH

Poor Miya Maria. She drew the short Canada Day photo op straw.
(Don't feel too bad, she had a chunk of roast chicken as her reward!)
TAKEN: JULY 1st, 2023

When the Canada Day long weekend was approaching, it is safe to say my Weather Network app was getting ten times more screen action than everything else installed on my phone.

I will compare it to a flip of the coin scenario. Rain we stay in town. Sun we stay at the cottage. Well, sunshine prevailed for the entire weekend marking the fact that I officially got moved in.

It has been several years since I have lived here for 100% of the season. I am glad to be back and am very grateful that this is the first time in my entire career, that I only commute to the brick-and-mortar office with the fancy sign out front just once a week.

When I changed jobs a year and a half ago, I negotiated that I would work from home two days a week. Two led to three, then three led to four. I am hoping by the end of the year, everything will be done via ZOOM.

Though I manage my time well and my boss is pleased with my productivity, my workdays definitely last longer when working from my home or cottage offices. Why? This doggie daycare/obedience school thing-a-ma-hoochie I am running has a very strict schedule that must be adhered to.

So, I start an hour earlier everyday to ensure our 9:30am and 2pm breaks get rid of any excess energy, and they will sleep at my feet for the duration. With two puppies and a high energy senior on point, I need to keep them on track, or all hell breaks loose.

I am serious when I share that I will be working away and balls and toys start getting banged into my legs or dropped at my feet and I must firmly say, “Stop... It isn’t nine thirty yet!”

And believe it or not, they stop and settle until my phone pings that it’s time for recess. I’m not complaining just reflecting. Never a dull moment, and I wouldn’t change a thing.

Well, maybe the shitty internet connection because of all the rock that surrounds me, but that’s a post for another day.

FROM FEAR TO FEARLESS

As I mentioned in my A-Z Challenge posts, my husband and I had a milestone anniversary to celebrate the first week of June, so I booked us into a boutique hotel close to the airport in Montego Bay, Jamaica.

In years past we had spent a week in Negril, and a couple of years later a week in Runaway Bay, both over an hour from the airport. The last thing we wanted to do on a romantic four-night getaway, was to spend time riding an overcrowded resort bus. 

So, we both agreed Montego Bay was an experience we hadn’t had, and with our excellent flight times and the super cheap price tag, it was a travel no brainer.

Anyway, because we were staying at a 140 room hotel that offered very few resort-like activities, it would be on us to amuse ourselves. Because we both love to snorkel that was an early morning given. I love kayaking so I was pumped, however, my husband had never had any desire to try... So he was left to sit on the beach.

 For 90% of our visit the sky was overcast, and it was perfect.
(As we ran 40+C with the humidity without direct sunshine.)
TAKEN: JUNE 9th, 2023

Day one, out I went. It is hard to describe how amazing it was with the planes flying over me while I paddled. When I returned in, I asked if he wanted to try and he worried he would lose his new glasses. (Lamest excuse ever but I respected his decision.)

Day two, out I went again. When I returned, he commented on how fast I was paddling and how far I was going (code for me to tell him more so he would have the confidence to try). I explained that they weren’t tipsy at all. If he kept his core in the centre of the floating plastic entertainment center, he wouldn’t fall out.

Day three, he decided to try. By now, I knew when most of the planes were overhead to offer him the best experience. I brought my phone in my waterproof camera case that morn, as I knew this was a pretty big milestone for him. Before we knew it, over an hour had passed.

I don't know about you, but I love trying new things (except when it comes to food). I won't put myself in harms way but I definitely like living in the travel moment. So as silly as this may read, I am proud of my husband for going out of his comfort zone.

Kayaking may not be a big deal to most... But I love that we both had a blast touring around in the clear waters of Montego Bay!

TOLIET PAPER EATING TODDLER!

When we brought our wee Katie home at the end of January this year, we knew that we would have to budget for the added expense of having three pups. Little did we know that our second biggest expense would be due to unusable toilet paper!

My point being, look at those eyes. She definitely has a mind of her own.

Working away at my home office desk, I turned around to catch her in action.
TAKEN: May 31st, 2023

When I first met our two options from the litter of Miss Minnie’s nine littluns, I asked our breeder which she would recommend we select. Her choice was the other yellow female.  When I asked why, her response was one word; “her personality.”

“It depends what kind of dog you’re looking for,” she continued. “She will definitely be high energy". At the time, with Miya being so young, 'high energy' wasn't a deal breaker. 

The truth is I chose her because when we'd visit, she would immediately come to my husband and sit on his feet. Cute at the time, but now I am pretty sure she was terrorizing others in the pack and needed a safe spot for protection based on her mischievous tactics. 

The night we paid for her and we brought her home, we were told she would challenge the weaker male dogs in the pack. As we head toward her seventh month birthday next week, I have come to realize that those early behaviours have evolved, translating her into a bit of a bully.

With me in charge and Annie as our four-legged pack leader, Miya is a very competent co-captain. Yet our Katie insists on continually trying to run the show. Both the other ladies allow it to simmer on low until she crosses that evolutionarily line... Which is when all hell breaks loose.

Because I work from home four out of five days a week, I see and hear it all. Sometimes it is comical, other times painful to watch as both the big dogs run her until she barrel rolls to take her down a peg and back into her place in the pack.

Don't get me wrong, she is a beautiful and very intelligent dog. Though her dad was an award-winning retriever and her momma a beautifully bred gem, I am beginning to think she may have a couple of screws loose. Either that, or she is crazy like a fox!

A fox that loves to shred two ply toilet paper... that I am pretty sure she hopes I didn't buy on sale!!

FORGET ME NOT

We landed at the cottage Friday night to a couple of pleasant surprises. First one was that we weren’t carried down the hill by blackflies and mosquitos. Second was, when I opened the kitchen door, my view was filled with a wonderful sea of blue.

Not sure what type of bloom they were, I snapped a pic and reached out via social media in search of some help. The consensus came back that they were a flower called Forget Me Nots. 

Per Google, I discovered that they are a short term perennial which are a symbol of true love and respect. A wonderful cottage tribute with perfect timing as I approach the first anniversary of the death of my beloved Puddin’.

This pre-covid polaroid pic of her (taken by a friend of the kids) remains on the cottage fridge.
I will never forget her.
TAKEN: MAY 27th, 2023  

I don’t think my heart has been this hollow for the loss of a furbaby since my yellow lab Toby left us in March of 2007 at the ripe old age of fifteen. He was so special that we were over two years before we entertained another pup.

Back then, I didn’t want another yellow lab as I truly felt the space he took in my heart could never be replaced. It was only after our beagle rescue Daisy was hit by a car that we agreed it may be time for another yellow.

From the day in 2012 when she landed home, we knew that Puddin’ was special. Even as a wee bit of pup, her outgoing personality shone through from the beginning. She was forever by my side and really chill until her one true flaw kicked in. Which was when out of the blue, she would haphazardly run up the drive to confront people on our street.

She was never malicious or vicious, her outburst of random barking and jumping up and down in the same spot was just super annoying and it always ended up being a tad embarrassing having to endlessly apologize to the passerby.

I have always professed it was an ingrained effort to protect her home and her pack. My husband always chose to believe it was a simple set of loose screws!

Anyway, when we purchased Miya’s sister Katie in December, our third yellow, it was never to replace my girl.  It was a specific set of circumstances that fast tracked having another in our pack. 

As she settles into her first summer on Orillia Lake, I think the flowers Friday were just Puddin’ stopping by to say hello. Just as we bloomed with daisies the summer after Daisy's death, the yard is filled with a sea of blue for my sweet girl.

She can rest easy knowing I could never forget her, she was a very bright light in my life.

So much so, that when my time comes, both her and Toby's ashes will be buried with mine.

MY HEARTBROKEN SMILE

As life would have it, my hair began to grey prematurely in the late 1990’s. As a result, I would book an appointment and off to the popular high priced salon I’d go.

Then, when I went into business for myself in 2004, I began doing my own root touch ups to spare the expense. The trouble with that, is that for the last decade it has become an ‘every third Sunday afternoon’ ritual.

I will openly admit that during the pandemic, I came very close (multiple times) to growing the chemicals out of my hair, then would ultimately fold like a lawn chair and get the touch up brush out.

As a matter of fact, if I am being brutally honest, though my mindset for going grey was always there, it just wasn’t as strong as my inner voice of vanity and personal pride not to.

Well, a couple of weeks ago, I went to get my haircut. Granted, it had been a while, but my stylist was generally worried about the state of my already dead hair that was forever entertaining the grim reaper; so I launched the 'next steps' dialogue.

Well, at the end of my workday Friday, a two-hour ritual to begin my transition was set in motion.

This is what a heartbroken smile looks like.
Stood next to the dark wood siding to cut the glare.
(Yep, my eyes are closed.. because even I couldn't stand to look!)
TAKEN: MAY 5TH,  2023

Though I am certain I was specific that I wanted to take a year to transition, and our starting point would be a warm caramel shade, the one mixing the bleach personally decided full on blonde (with white clumps - you can see the frizz on the right) was the way to go.

Suffice it to say, when she finished, I cried. And cried. And cried. And cried. My husband, the wonderful man he is, quickly and quietly hid!

With tears streaming down my face, I went home to my personal salon, plugged in my gadgets, and took a half a can of coloured root touch up spray to the white hair that framed my face. Then, freshened up my make-up and forced myself to go outside and take the selfie I am sharing here.

As you can see, my eyes are closed. It wasn't intentional, yet I am posting it because I suspect subconsciously I couldn’t stand to look at what I had just done to my already dead mane.

Well, as I have said here before, I will say again. You can’t stop change, only manage it.

Though my stylist did offer for me to return the following day and add low lights to offset, I turned her down. Not only did I not want to incur any more expense, but I also didn’t want to add anything else to my already dead and overbleached coif.

Instead, I decided to wait until after I've returned from the Caribbean in a couple of weeks and see where the sun and salt from snorkeling have my hair colour and I landing.

BUT if last Friday night were any indication, I would say there are going a couple of bars in Jamaica that are going to meet a blonde woman crying in her glass of spirits, with a man quietly hiding under the table sipping a beer.

Then again, maybe not. It’s not like anyone knows me there. 

Because hell... When I looked at myself in the mirror again this morning, I still didn't recognize the person looking back!!

#YaGottLaughAboutIt

Z IS FOR ZEBRA

A perfect way to wrap YEAR TEN.
...With a tribute to how I live my life!
Image (c) REDBUBBLE