The First Sign of Addiction is Denial. Who's in Denial?

As you all know, and I readily admit, I am a social media junkie. I could easily stand up at a meeting and say “Hello, my name is Rhondi, I am a Crackberry addict, and it’s been an entire week since my last Facebook update.” I can hear the applause now!

Seriously, this morning I was walking to work, when a builder pulled up alongside me. He rolled down the passenger window and hollered; “headphones in, head down and texting, I should fine you for distracted walking!" All I could do was laugh and acknowledge the reality of the situation at hand, “BUSTED” I yelled.

As I continued on the home stretch to the office, his comment sounded like a bit of a reality check. So I decided make a list (go figure) of my so called 'indulgences'.

I Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, and let’s not forget my beloved blog.  I chat; BBM, MMS/SMS, Yahoo, MSN, WhatApp and Facebook takes the lead with a second nod. So I am sure you’re wondering if I have an e-mail account? Let’s see, work (x’s 2), Yahoo (x’s 2), Hotmail, Gmail and Cogeco.  Holy Doodle, could I really be addicted?

It’s a hard question to ask oneself, but I did, and here is my answer: “the first sign of addiction is denial”. Keeping with that premise, “I know I’m a social media junkie; therefore I am not in denial, so therefore I’m not a social media junkie!” Pretty self-explanatory if I do say so myself.

Honestly, I know there have been times I thought maybe getting a little excessive. Last summer was pretty bad. (Pleased to report that Saturday of last Labour Day long weekend was quiet. May have been because I couldn’t find my phone.)

Hectic fall, but forgot my phone at home a couple of days in January so that was significant. I also really tried to minimize my usage in Jamaica, so for the first few days I never took my phone to the beach. As a result, my roaming for the week was only $354.72. Way to go me...

I guess with the kids gone, my Crackberry has become an extension of me. Yesterday, I was sitting in a golf cart waiting to tee off, when I began to respond to a BBM message from Smartie, who was sitting at YYZ waiting to head back to Whitehorse.  Paying no mind to the amazing company I was keeping he said “Geez, can you type any faster?”

My response? ”What the hell !?! Just because your piece of crap iPhone doesn’t make a cool clicking sound when you type is not my problem!” There you have it. Not my fault I have fast thumbs combined with razor sharp wit. 

All Inclusive trip to Negril, Jamaica     $6,000

Spa Treatment on the beach                 $350

Snorkelling and a trip to Rick’s Café     $150

The ability to upload photos and update my Facebook status from anywhere? PRICELESS!

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words...

As promised, I took advantage of my Chiropractor working Saturday and as an added bonus, I got to witness my son David in action at the restaurant he's working at in downtown Toronto called  Actinolite.

David and I try and get together at least once a month. That said, I know since our last visit he's been struggling  with the very long hours and lack of sleep, so I worry. Not going to lie, the first thing I noticed? As suspected, he’s underweight (almost gaunt) and he looked exhausted.

We were very excited to see each other. He gave me several great big hugs, called me Mommy (which will never gets old), and he introduced me to his team as "Big Hair Mama Bear" which is par for the course.

The difference this visit was how there was no subtle change only evident maturity. After sharing his desire to work in Italy, he kept his composure as he quietly whispered in my ear, “it's okay mommy, please stop crying”, that's when it hit me. He's become a man, a good man.

As I headed home, I confided in a friend that my heart was heavy and my eyes were damp. I was explaining how seeing David makes me miss him even more. In turn, he sent me this picture of a loon mother and her chick that he’d taken at his cottage on Georgian Bay last summer. 

His photo was accompanied by the following note. “Taken early one morning I thought of you and David.” His next comment was what truly struck home.

“It’s perfect as that it was taken a year ago” he continued. “By now, that loon chick has long left the side of his mother but will always know how to find her when he needs her.”

My eyes filled with tears as I typed my heartfelt and instant response of thank you… His photo and his very well chosen words put my weekend into proper perspective,  which is that I am a very lucky lady.

(Here's a link for the restaurant where David works as reviewed in Toronto Life Magazine.) 

http://www.torontolife.com/daily/daily-dish/opening-daily-dish/2012/04/04/introducing-actinolite/

Wash Rinse Repeat. Wash Rinse Repeat. Wash Rinse Repeat.

Crazy as it sounds, some weeks I feel like every day is Groundhog Day. You know, wash, rinse, repeat? I work every weekend. Though I am not expected to work every Saturday, I usually do. 

It's a tough reality to admit that my life peaks at boring. Heck, a trip to the Chiropractic office is like a day at the circus for me!  (Downside?... My Chiropractor doesn’t work on Saturday. Ba-dumm-bump!!)

I'm only questioning the whole 'Groundhog Day' scenario because last Saturday was the same but different for me, and I think there may be hope.

Up at my regular time, I decided to “make hay” while the caffeine in my system was doing its thing. Completed my chores and carefully watched the clock so that I could shower and head into work. As I crossed the items off my "list of things to do" I could feel myself decompressing.

As my morning list shortened, my afternoon list grew. Dogs needed new matching collars (pet store), golf balls were on sale (Canadian Tire), my toe nails needed painting (and most importantly) the sun needed worshiping. Hence, I skipped going to the office.

Sunday was a perfect day as well. Had my one cup of coffee on the front deck, mowed the lawn before ten and spent the day outside. After a nice supper, I fell asleep watching the final round of the US Open.

Knowing my "work list of things to do" was longer than a one armed paper hanger, I showed up for work this morning at 7am. First words uttered were not "how was your weekend" but “I expected to see you Saturday”. 

Glass half full? This afternoon I got an email from my Chiropractor's office. Seems he’s working Saturday’s starting next weekend.

Guess what? I've had a Bill Murray breakthrough. I won't be working next Saturday either!

“Don’t Cry Because It’s Over, Smile Because It Happened” Dr. Seuss.

RIP CHUBBS

It’s a week today since my dogs disappeared and all week I have been struggling to come to terms with what happened. I’ve tried and tried to put something into writing about my beloved Daisy but my thought process keeps racing back to how she was killed rather than the joy she brought everyone around her.

She spent her life on a ten foot lead, and loved it. Go figure!

She arrived to us with the name Daisy but as her solid canine understanding of North American dining terms grew (treat, lunch, toast) so did her girth. Quite quickly her stature became more rotund, and she endearingly became known to those closest to her as “Chubbs”. “Chubbs McGubb” to be exact.

Chubbs was the perfect pet. I did a lot of reading once she arrived home. The most important thing I discovered was that beagles are extremely sensitive. If you never strike your beagle, they in turn become fiercely loyal. Never once did I raise a hand to her and our bond with each other was indescribable. 

I am the first one to put up my hand and admit that this last year for me has been difficult to say the least. When the snow left, I knew that I had found my way and I would A-OK, now this.  As silly as it sounds, I feel like I am mourning the loss of a child.

DEE

Right or wrong, I did get another dog this week. She’s an 8 week old and a purebred yellow lab and I have named her Dee in memory of Daisy. She’s crazy uncoordinated, has teeth like razor blades and is driving Dottie absolutely bonkers!!!

Last night, in an effort to contain this “hell on wheels” infant, I dug out Daisy’s baby gate from the garage. Gate in hand, I exited the garage just in time to find her tugging on my golf towel, and knocking over my brand new golf clubs.

It appears I have another baby on my hands. Wish me luck… I’m gonna need it!

The Twins Are Twenty? How Can That Be? I'm Only Twenty-Nine!

Where does the time go? Honestly, this week I have stopped many times to wonder. 

I'm healthy, happy, active, and I don’t feel like a middle aged woman. Lord knows I don’t act like one either but all week I have been asking myself; “How did I get to the point in my life when part of it feels like it's already a blur?”

My youngest children, Staci and David celebrated their 20^th birthday this week. Twenty!

It's like it was yesterday the ultra-sound technician announced; “Oh my Mrs. Peacock, you are going to have a multiple birth” to which I immediately burst into tears.

I’d love to type that they were tears of joy but they were tears admitting “I’m not a strong enough woman to have three children in diapers.” Turns out I was.

Growing up, neither my husband nor I ever really had "birthday parties", so the celebration of birthdays in our family home was always an excuse for great fun. 

Jamie was born in February, so we’d rent the ice surface or the pool at the Centennial Centre, and later on head to the slopes for snowboarding.

Staci and David, as June babies, always had outdoor parties. Thirty kids at Williams Park with water balloons, Santa’s Village, even the cottage jammed full of kids (boys downstairs, girls upstairs) piled three high. With the twins, one party was always easier. One day, two births, one celebration. (Some years they hated each other at the time, which presented challenges, but for the most part they were a success.)

The 20^th birthday just celebrated is representative of change in many ways. For the first time in their lives they didn’t celebrate it together and for the first time ever we didn’t celebrate as a family. No cake, no balloons and I gave them the gift that just keeps giving, CASH!

Funny, when we left David in downtown Toronto last September, I remember he said to me “Mom you keep joking that you’re getting a one bedroom apartment with no pull out sofa... but you're going to miss us”. I laughed at the time but my boy's wise.

I’d give anything to be pushing my double stroller again, waving at the Glaziers as we passed. Two toddlers in the seats and Jamie standing on the back. Our dog Sammy's leash, strapped to the side, and a diaper bag over my back. We’d be heading to town.

Putting everything into perspective, I made Wonder Woman look like a wimp!

Perhaps that is why I have seen such success. To this day, I do what it takes, whatever it takes, to get it done and 'Get It Done' right!  David and Staci are both the same way, and I know they will see great success in life.

That’s not Mom talking, that the reality of whom they are as young adults.

Today's Post is Brought To You By The Number Three!

They say everything comes in threes. Today, for the first time in forever, I enjoyed a really great 'set of threes'.

I produced the first quarter sales figures (amazing), I enjoyed an ice cream cone at work (sinful), and out of the blue, I had a really great conversation with a true friend (WOOT) !!

Like I said; great set of threes. The first two are self explanatory but the third honestly caught me by surprise.

Yesterday reminded me that the voice of a true friend has a comfortable rhythm. A specific tone, that is unconditional. It comes right from your heart, and once you find that level of comfort, I believe it stays with the friendship for a lifetime.

Mac and I started working together in 1994. We started with our new employer one week apart and became instant friends.

Our friendship led to “couples friends”, which led to the guys playing on the same ball team, not to mention dinner parties and lots of golf. Holy doodle that seems like a million years ago !!

Just like “Smartie” and “Twos”, my friendship with “Mac” got lost in the day to day shuffle called Life. Today has proven that everything is definitely aligning.

One: I'm giddy thinking that Brian is flying into YYZ in two weeks from Whitehorse. Two: Ecstatic that Tim's baby girl has his heart (we're going to Nashville to meet her)! Three? Jamie and I promised to find the time to golf together sooner than later.

Yup, my new favorite number is three. Except when it comes the proverbial three putt. Oh, and three strikes you're out!

I'M BUSY NOW... Can I Ignore You Some Other Time?

I am pleased to announce that after a 70 hour work week, I am sitting in my home office, enjoying my "only day off ” cup of coffee. It’s raining outside, not to mention dreary, but the fact that I had a great night sleep makes my mood better than normal under the circumstance.

I had a crazy busy week. I had planned to head into the city last night (nice dinner with friends, see David for breakfast this morning) but it wasn't meant to be. Instead, I was summoned to the office, for a 'quick' Saturday morning meeting.

True to form, I had clients unexpectedly drive from Toronto to meet me and it was 2pm before I could say; “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want to work every Saturday!?!” 

Actually, I didn’t say that. I just screamed it out loud as I left the parking lot. Okay, so I didn’t scream it aloud. I just typed it firmly now, which to me, is equally satisfying!

It makes me worry that friends, the cottage,  not to mentioned small details like my eyebrows have gone neglected . Holy cow they look awful! (Note to self – get eyebrows waxed Monday lunch...)  As I constantly  struggle to find time to schedule everything in that I want to accomplish, I can’t help but notice how much I’ve changed. 

To quote Popeye “I yam what I yam, and that's all that I yam.” I’ve always been direct and comfortable communicating with others. That’s said, 10-12 years ago, protective wife & mother of three children, at times my words could be as sharp as a razor blade, that cut you so quickly, you were bleeding out before you knew it.

The last five or six of years, I have learned to walk away and be more matter a fact about my emotions and how to express them.  Which is code for “I may not be as big a bitch as I use to be, but I know what I want, and if I don’t see it, or it doesn’t feel right, I’m gonna let you know”.

My message nowadays is delivered in a more peaceful tone, and without drawing blood. Truthfully, at this point in my life; I'll tend to ignore you, offering you zero energy, positive or negative, and move on.

I’m not sure why I have the audacity to have the confidence I do. I just have it. I am me and completely fine with me. I’m outgoing, loyal, and I love to laugh. For all the positive energy I exude, I know that I can also be quite critical and stubborn. As gasps of disbelief reach for miles and miles, both are traits I willingly admit.

YUP, I am the first to admit that I have my mother’s stubborn streak (which I intend on getting surgically removed at the end of the year). I hope it doesn’t hurt!

Warm Fire (check), Fuzzy Socks (check), Snoring Beagle (check check)

Today was a rainy and very dreary day. For lack of a better description, it was a “painful rain” kind of day. Not the whole, 'my heart is bleeding, dog died in its sleep, Pride & Prejudice painful rain'  but the annoying type of precipitation that falls in the median between rain and snow. 

Tonight was the first Friday night in forever Staci didn’t venture home and I am missing her (seems Daisy and Dot were looking for her too). I made a fire, because you’re never alone sitting in front of a warm fire, and proceeded to decide what I would have for dinner.

After much debate, I had our Chef prepare Staci’s favorite dish and I quietly dined alone. I must admit, he's never let either of us down. I don’t care what people think, I spare no expense when it comes to fine dining. Toast, warm toast, is the key to his main course culinary offering. Chef Boyardee is my guy!

Yes, fine dining is a must, and so is my Friday night eveningwear.

No makeup, hair up, really ugly bathrobe and my must have fuzzy socks. When you’re a high maintenance gal like me, nothing feels better than arriving home and decompressing. The uglier the clothes, the more content I feel, and that’s the God’s honest truth.

Home alone, in front of a warm fire, beagle snoring (wearing a boxer/mix blanket), I am personally embracing the gift of a perfectly ordinary day.

"...All of the flowers bloom in there own time"  says her 85yr old grandmother. Please enjoy Katrina Kenison reading from her book The Gift of an Ordinary Day. Very personal and moving. Enjoy!

My Psychiatrist Told Me I'm Going Crazy….

My psychiatrist told me I'm going crazy.  I told him, 'If you don't mind I'd like a second opinion.'  He said, 'Alright.... You're ugly too!' ~ Rodney Dangerfield

I had a crazy day and it was certainly ugly too!

I'm so relieved that I am home now and resting comfortably, in my custom made, imported, Burberry straight jacket.  Aside from the constant drool pouring down the front of me, I’m lookin’ hot!

Seriously, the only personal insight I can assign to the day I’ve just had?

…Ya Gotta Laugh About it!

They always say “when it rains, it pours”. My take on that specific quote is; when the idiotic 'snowball effect' grabs hold of a perfectly great day, I wind up (for lack of a better phrase) emotionally spent.

It started as I led the morning meeting, overflowed into a mid-morning customer melt down, toss in zero-zip for lunch, finally I had to re-read (over and over) a mid-afternoon personal email . Honestly, it's more that.  My long string of 12+ hour days have exasperated my overall personal frustration.

Seriously, the fact that I can’t get out to the cottage is crazy. For crying out loud, my dock is fifteen minutes away from my house. With the amazing weather we're having, the thought that my buttocks isn't firmly planted on said dock is borderline criminal!

Wait, it gets better. The one person that has brought a real sense of normalcy to my insane work life in the last year resigned today. Definitely a very strong member of our team (suffice is to say I tried to talk him out of it). Unfortunately, his mind was already made up. As I folded my cards in defeat, I stated something which I believe to be 100% true.

“A person only ever leaves a job for one of two reason; because they have a shitty boss, or they can make more money elsewhere.”  I’m pleased to report that his reason was the latter. DIRR-PIRR-DIRR buddddd… DIRR-PIRR-DIRR! 

As the sun goes down and my eyes get ready for rest I'll look forward to what tomorrow may offer. Let's hope it's at least lunch!

As I've said a million times before. GREET each new day folks. Life is short.

Rhondi's Motto? "MUST LOVE GOLF!"

After a very long and emotional day yesterday, I arrived home to enjoy two of my favourite things; a quiet  dinner and the camaraderie of the kids and I hitting golf balls into the gully. Golf has always been something I’ve really enjoyed. 

I vividly remember the first time my Dad asked me walk nine holes with him. I remember being in awe of how far he could hit the ball. He started me off with putter and by the end of that first season I was hitting all of my four clubs. I was ten years old. 

After graduating high school my focus changed; from sports to men, men to marriage, and of course a family followed. When the twins were old enough to head to the ball park with their dad - I started to golf again. 

I must admit I've never focused on spending a lot of money on top of the line clubs (bought my first set at a lawn sale) instead I've always focused on my technique. The Golf Channel in the late 1990’s? ...My friend! 

Flash forward to 2011. I golfed every Friday last season and realized how much I loved and truly missed the sport. After hitting my buddy Dave’s TaylorMade driver last August (and putting it on the front of the green) I knew a financial investment was imminent. 

My self-gifted Mother’s Day present of brand new TaylorMade Rocketballz is something that I feel I have earned (kind of like a graduation present for my empty nest). After playing this afternoon I shot my lowest score ever for nine holes but that’s not why I am smiling. Today, I golfed alone, for the very first time in my life.


Play was painfully slow, so after waiting and waiting, I ended up hooking up with a twosome of men behind me. Boy, that last sentence just reads wrong. Hang on, it gets better. How crazy is it when a woman hits a monster drive, she hears strange men yell “good stroke” Bizarre? Not really, golf truly has it's own language. It’s a passion! A passion that is worth the effort, that I can honestly call my own, an escape. It may only last a couple of hours but that time belongs to me. 


Moral of my post? Those really close to me, that want to be entitled to my quality time? "MUST LOVE GOLF!"

We Love You Uncle Fern...

I knew when I read the message “call me as soon as you get this” it was going to be life changing. It was. However, nothing could have prepared me for the shock I was about to receive.

The first time I met Monsieur Fernand Latour was before I ever started dating my husband. In fact, I think the first time the Lake Temisc Crew met my new beau, was at Janet and Fern’s wedding.  Suffice is to say the men bonded instantly, and "the new guy" was declared “a keeper”.

Tony and I married the following year (this pic was taken our first trip to Camp as a married couple - summer of 1988). 

As our children arrived he was always 'Uncle Fern'. And I honestly can’t begin to express the impact that he & 'Auntie Janet' had on all three of their young lives.

He was the "COOL" Uncle, and he was all they would talk about on their three hour Friday night ride to Poppa's Camp.

From rides on his four-wheeler, to tubing behind his boat, he was there for the kids, not the mention everyone at Camp. 

I must admit, though he had a crazy ability to produce a huge bonfire at a moments notice, it was his smile and the tone of his voice that would greet you and let you know you were home. His whole face would light up, he'd nod, as his deep voice would ask you “comment ca va?"

Glass half full? His amazing friendship that I was lucky enough to see many benefit from (especially my dad). His hosting the men with a bottle of Southern Comfort (with the built in shot glass lid) where all without breasts were welcome. Most of all? Our long chats about business, the stock valuation of the company he worked for, and his job in particular. I will always have an unconditional respect for what he’d accomplished in his life.

They say it “takes a village to raise a child” and I say only if that village has a really great Uncle Fern!

Rest in peace my friend, we love you  and you will be greatly missed... 

I Have Been Thinking About My Mom....

Sunday is Mother’s Day, and for whatever reason, it's a 'day' I've never looked forward to.

Not sure if it’s because my own mother passed before I was married and had children, or the fact that when my children were babies I use to ask my husband “what are you getting me for Mother’s Day” and his standard response was “nothing, you’re not my mother!”

All joking aside, I’ve been thinking about my mommy a lot lately.

Though she passed in 1987, I think she’d be proud of what I have accomplished, and proud of the woman I have become. Not just because of the success I have seen, but the person I am, and aspire to be. (Let's face it, she'd have her own opinion,  so I best aim for proud.)

My mom had me later in life and my siblings were much older. By the time I started Kindergarten, everything in her homemaker life instantly simplified, and I guess I was on the receiving end of that benefit.

Out of the gate, I 'd like to go on record with the fact that my sister Andrea (eight years my senior) paved the way for me. Man, she had it rough!

I’ll admit that it was very hard as a teen and young adult, to hear my sister continually utter the words “you got everything and I got nothing”. As hard as it is to admit, it was true. (It was like my mother revisited her youth through me.)

I remember my first waltz lesson, first day at the rink, first time on stage, and of course my first serious conversation about the game of Bridge.

Seeing all of Canada, coast to coast, before I graduated high school was the added bonus. (My pic was taken at Lake Louise in 1976.)

As a woman entering middle age, I do possess some of her character traits.

Without being disrespectful, there are specific traits, that I’ve spent my entire life, working each and every day, never to emulate. (Those of you that read this, and knew my mother when she was alive, know exactly what I mean.)

With my nest empty I’ll be thinking of my mom as I celebrate our day this Sunday.

I think I will wake up and watch Cary Grant in Alfred Hitchcock’s 1959 North By Northwest. I will sing really loud in the shower and play a great round of golf. And all the while, I’ll be thinking of her. 

Though she never did, I most certainly will, Carpe Diem.

Monty Python says "Always Look On The Bright Side of Life..."

Do you know that old saying; ‘some succeed because they are destined to, but most succeed because they are determined to?’  Suffice is to say, I am definitely the latter.

Today I awoke determined to have a great day and I am pleased to report that I did. I don’t know about you, but I believe that a great day comes from within.

For me, when I wake in the morning, I choose the colour I want to feel, and let my day proceed. Knowing today was going to be a big day, when I got up in the morning (as expected) I was 'fire engine red'. You know the mood, unstoppable! 

Walking to work this morning, a song began to play into my headphones (Monty Python's 'Always Look On The Bright Side of Life'). Listening to it cranked as I walked, not only did it have me walking a little faster, it had me smiling a little brighter. There was definitely a certain skip in my step! 

For those of you that don’t know, I am in the high end construction industry. As I’ve mentioned before, I am in a leadership role, more importantly I really love what I do for a living. Did you know it is proven that people rarely succeed at what they do in life, if they don’t have fun doing it? I agree 120%.

Anyway, as my day is ending (and I climb into my jammies) I am the first to admit that certain elements of today were very much 'glass half empty'. That said, throughout the day, I was quick to shrug them off and remind myself that “it takes both rain and sun to make a rainbow”.  

Never, EVER, lose sight of the fact that I'm always grateful for the rain. Rain, combined with my personal outlook and perspective, will always make my true colours really shine. 

That's because I strive to shine bright every time.... That's how I roll.

Does Lack of Sleep Breed Indifference?

Last week was brutal for me. Don’t get me wrong; my whirlwind adventure was wicked fun, but when I put my plans in place, I never expected to end up so totally worn out. I honestly can’t remember the last time I’ve been so exhausted.

As young Darren constantly reminds, I’m ‘approaching my senior years', and he’s absolutely right. I am very much a creature of habit, and lack of sleep for me is more painful than not eating or even being really ill. 

Why so exhausted?

I didn’t sleep Wednesday night (anticipation), little sleep Thursday night (event participation), zero shut eye Friday night (Staci situation), so with my bed calling my name last night, I finally got a great night sleep.

To me, the key to being really well rested, is waking up on my own.

You know what I mean, remain horizontal until you hear your inner self announce 'I've had just about enough of this bed for one day'... (THAT is when I start to think about starting my day.) Honestly? I allow myself that specific luxury about once a year.

Being overtired, always makes me over think. Truth be known, when exhausted, I can easily confuse even the sharpest Mensa candidate!

I'm not proud to admit that when I am cranky I focus on the very finite and totally irrelevant detail. I tend to be dismissive, but most of all, distance myself from any interaction with others. As a full blown extrovert, I completely shut down and become (for lack of a better word) indifferent. 

It’s not complicated, it’s like my mind selectively downplays things, so that I don’t have to deal with the reality at hand. History has proven that this is a reflex for me and it automatically kicks in once I begin breathing through my eyelids!!!

Wash. Rinse. Repeat?

The last weekend in June has my BFF flying into YYZ from Whitehorse. We are going to gather with old friends, I’m gonna introduce him to some new peeps, and I know it’ll go nonstop. After the last five days I only have one word of advice for myself.

AMBIEN… I’m thinking if could be the gift that keeps on giving!

What A Difference 20 Years Makes...

OK. After the night I just had, I would be remiss if I didn’t talk about it, so here goes.

Both my online and offline friends know that last night I was in the 26^th row to see Bryan Adams  celebrate the 20^th  anniversary of his  1992 Waking Up The Nation Tour. In four words, GLASS instantly half full!

I honestly remember the day this was taken
Taken: June 1983

Like most Canadian girls my age, I discovered Bryan Adams in my last year of high school, which is when my attached pic was taken (his Cut’s like a Knife album debuted in 1983).

Let me start by saying, to my mother’s credit, she seriously kept me under lock and key until my 18^th birthday. She kept me heavily involved in sports, the arts, music, as well as our church youth group. "Boys" at any level were never negotiable. 

Keeping all of that in mind, I remember I use to listen to my favorite album and imagine that I was in this 'dramatic' teen relationship.

I remember once I discovered the album, I use to sing certain songs of his, to my proverbial nonexistent suitor. (I am embarrassed to confess that there was always a hairbrush or curling iron involved, which served as a perfect microphone for extra effect.)

With a smile on my face I am pleased to admit that last night seriously took me back! It took me back to 149 Toronto St., a month before my high school graduation and a time I fondly remember. Life was simple. Life was good.

Last night, as I sang at the top of my lungs (without a curling iron in sight), I dialed my phone. As 20,000 people sang a cappella, I stretched my arm into the air so my BFF could share and hear all of us singing. 

On my way back to the hotel my phone rang. When I answered, all I heard was the person on the other end yell “I LOVE YOU BRYAN”… We both howled with laughter, but truth be told, he hit the nail right on the head!

(CLICK THIS LINK: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ebtjgK8NNU and enjoy a live version of Straight from the Heart)

Reflection Always Has A Purpose…

As this beautiful Sunday winds down I have to admit it’s been a weekend of quiet reflection for me. (Hard to believe that this same weekend last year, Jamie was finishing up in Kitchener, and heading home to work.)

Tomorrow is April 30^th and the final day on our lease for Dave’s house. (He moved out this weekend, has two jobs for the summer, and will remain in the city to work in his chosen field.)

Staci's also had a banner year and she's on her home stretch as well. Her journey has been a little different; she’s kept her job here in town at Metro, slept in her old room almost every weekend, and wants to return to Muskoka to work when she graduates.

After I finished work Saturday, I found myself alone in the sun. Tunes cranked, talking to myself (relax, I don’t answer back), and it hit me. By all accounts, when it comes to raising my children, my job here is done.

As silly as it sounds, I've felt this shift coming for quite some time. After we put Sally down and Daisy entered my heart, I started to press for two more dogs. Two years later, I realize that I wanted to add to our pet population because I knew the void that was coming would change my life forever. Reflection yesterday made me realize it truly has.

I am so very proud that we’ve raised three confident, intelligent, strong willed individuals and given them all the tools for success in life. It hasn’t been easy. Actually, it’s been really hard. But it's always been my experience that the really great things in life never happen without a lot of personal investment and very hard work.

As the flowers bloom and I move out to the cottage for the summer I can’t help but ask myself “what will I do with all my spare time?” The answer is easy.

I'm thinking a puppy (maybe a Jack Russell Terrier I'll name Zack) and GOLF! Small white ball in a small round hole. Bring it!

30 Things Every Woman Should Have And Should Know

I read this online this morning and thought I would share. Ah my 30's. It was a great decade. Oh how I miss them! They say "life begins at 30 and for me it truly did.

(FYI - I didn't ask Glamour Magazine for permission to repost like Huffungton did but that's only because my personal contact at Glamour left and is now is Cosmo.)

This article really makes me think! Enjoy

In 1997, Glamour magazine published a story titled "30 Things Every Woman Should Have and Should Know by the Time She's 30." The list, written by Pamela Redmond Satran, was so popular that women started emailing it around, misattributing it to various female luminaries including Maya Angelou and Hillary Clinton. Noting what a phenomenon it had become, the editors of Glamour created a book around it, featuring essays from (mostly) famous women on each of the items on the list. The book, released today, includes meditations from Katie Couric on work and love, Portia de Rossi on accepting your body, and one from the list's original author, who is also a Huffington Post blogger, on how to live alone.

Because the list still makes us so, so happy, we asked Glamour's permission to reprint it here:

By 30, you should have ...
1. One old boyfriend you can imagine going back to and one who reminds you of how far you’ve come.
2. A decent piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in your family.
3. Something perfect to wear if the employer or man of your dreams wants to see you in an hour.
4. A purse, a suitcase, and an umbrella you’re not ashamed to be seen carrying.
5. A youth you’re content to move beyond.
6. A past juicy enough that you’re looking forward to retelling it in your old age.
7. The realization that you are actually going to have an old age -- and some money set aside to help fund it.
8. An email address, a voice mailbox, and a bank account -- all of which nobody has access to but you.
9. A résumé that is not even the slightest bit padded.
10. One friend who always makes you laugh and one who lets you cry.
11. A set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra.
12. Something ridiculously expensive that you bought for yourself, just because you deserve it.
13. The belief that you deserve it.
14. A skin-care regimen, an exercise routine, and a plan for dealing with those few other facets of life that don’t get better after 30.
15. A solid start on a satisfying career, a satisfying relationship, and all those other facets of life that do get better.

By 30, you should know ...
1. How to fall in love without losing yourself.
2. How you feel about having kids.
3. How to quit a job, break up with a man, and confront a friend without ruining the friendship.
4. When to try harder and when to walk away.
5. How to kiss in a way that communicates perfectly what you would and wouldn’t like to happen next.
6. The names of the secretary of state, your great-grandmothers, and the best tailor in town.
7. How to live alone, even if you don’t like to.
8. Where to go -- be it your best friend’s kitchen table or a yoga mat -- when your soul needs soothing.
9. That you can’t change the length of your legs, the width of your hips, or the nature of your parents.
10. That your childhood may not have been perfect, but it’s over.
11. What you would and wouldn’t do for money or love.
12. That nobody gets away with smoking, drinking, doing drugs, or not flossing for very long.
13. Who you can trust, who you can’t, and why you shouldn’t take it personally.
14. Not to apologize for something that isn’t your fault.
15. Why they say life begins at 30


What's on your personal list of things to have and know -- and possibly do -- before turning 30?

A Hug Is the Shortest Distance Between Friends…

I’m a 'hugger', there I said it. I love hugging.  I wish I was an octopus so I could hug eight people all at once!

I hug everyone; new friends, old friends, my kids (their friends), clients, coworkers, as well as people that I feel  an overwhelming instant connection with.

Truth? If I don’t know you well enough, I will feel the need to ask "may I have a hug"? Or if you're aware of my personality trait, I just throw my arms up in the air and bellow "gimme a hug!" Haven't seen you in a while? You'll get two - three if you're lucky. It's truly a part of who I am.

I'm not exactly sure when the defining moment was that I became a 'hugger' but like any obsession, I'm sure it progressed quickly.

I believe it started with my children; the entire Glazier clan were definitely a factor, can't forget JC (John), PUG, and three of my closest amigos… Sean (may he RIP) Paul & Bob. I know for a fact that it was the last three that threw me over the edge.

What’s the best way to guarantee a hug from me? Just open your arms!

My personal perspective is that a  hug is like a boomerang. You throw it out there and get it back right away. (If it doesn't return to you quickly.... grab a breath mint.)

How be we make a list? Who needs a hug? Let me grab my post it notes!

How’s My Mood? Fair to Partly Cloudy!

It’s overcast this Sunday morning and on a scale of 1-10, my single cup of coffee rated a whopping 4 (mediocre at best).

Let me start by saying I hate waking up on my ONE day off to crap weather. I don’t ask for much, I’m a simple gal. Is waking up to sunshine on a Sunday too much to crave? Helloooo, it was labeled SUNday early on for a reason! 

Yup, I’m tired and cranky as I didn’t sleep well. I cut my left index finger last night (and even with a band aid it hurts to type). And to top it off, I'm renovating the house, which makes me an even bigger bitch, because I can’t stand to look at the mess.

Hmmm, let’s see. How shall I turn my day from funk to fabulous? 

It’s too early for chocolate or ice cream, and although it’s “five o’clock somewhere” alcohol is not an option. I’m not in the mood for sex (a loud gasp of disbelief is heard by every single hen out there) and I don’t feel like shopping. 

Holy doodle! Someone call a doctor! I think I may have been bitten by a tsetse fly and I am in the early stages of malaria! All joking aside, I hate being grumpy. It’s the wrong lane for me. It's just wrong.

So, in an effort to reset my mood, I think I am going to jump in the shower and head to the driving range. That way, I can relieve my frustrations the old fashion way, with some good clean golf ball violence. That said, with the mood I'm in I best take my old clubs...just in case I feel the need to break one.

Damn you glass half empty!

♫♪♫ Mr.Sandman Bring Me a Dream♪♫♪

Mr. Sandman is calling me to bed early tonight and my exhaustion has his song (and of course those amazing harmonies) playing over and over in my head. So why so tired?

For all of you that don’t receive my personal ESP mind link, I have NOT been feeling 100% since returning from the Spring Cottage Life Show (damn you International Centre and your re-circulated air). I've been sick for the last week. I didn’t sleep well last night, and before dawn, I knew I wasn’t heading into work this morning.

How ill you ask? 

I really enjoy one cup of coffee a day. After only half a cup this morning, I headed back upstairs to bed. (I am pleased to report that I did come downstairs a couple of times; once for water and once for some fresh fruit but even that was a chore.)

Seriously, one can only stay in bed for so long.  Hunger ensues, major leg cramping sets in, not to mention that my back tends to ache into next week. Upside? I had a bath around dinner time with lots of bubbles and I feel I am on the mend.

I am far to busy to stay in bed all day but I wasn't calling the shots. Today proved that ya gotta do what your body says ya gotta do...

As my eyes get heavier and I log off this eve, I have to ask Mr. Sandman do his thing. I can't believe I am climbing into bed again!

Holy Doodle...I Chatted with 25,000 People Last Weekend!

I had a great time at the Cottage Life Show last weekend. My guess is the attendance soared over fifty thousand in total, and I swear I spoke to half of them personally.

I’ve taken a couple of days off work. I needed to. (You know the deal…there is only so much Rhondi to go around.) Reset and reload.

As my Blackberry BBM flashed throughout the day with comments like “the customer needs you, they met you at the Show and have questions,” or the familiar, “they only want to deal with you” I asked myself the following question... When was the last time I met someone new?

I can honestly count how many people in my life that I have truly let in. You know the old saying “a friend will help you move… but a true friend will help you move a body!” Keeping that in mind, let’s just say I only have a handful of people that would help me move (and I refuse to name the Hens that would help me move a body).

How is it possible to know everyone... yet not know anyone?  That’s how I’ve been feeling lately.

Work Rhondi is controlling the real Rhondi.

Glass half empty? No way! The goal oriented person I am wants to rebut. My inner self tells me that I will meet someone new in the very near future.

Don’t “Ma’am” Me…. EVER!

So it seems I have a birthday coming up. I’d like to be able to report that it will be my 25^th but that would be a lie. Not only would it be a lie, it would be a two decade understatement.

I remember worrying (way back when) that turning 30 would be really hard for me. I also remember being surprised when it wasn’t. In fact, to this day, turning 31 was the birthday I have struggled with most. I struggled because it was the reality that I was ...“In my 30’s”.

I recall having a conversation with my husband (about a week after I turned 31) because I'd spent a somber day in bed. When he asked what was wrong I replied; “If I have to spend the day in bed when I turn 31, I’ll bet I will have to spend a week in bed when I turn 41.” Without missing a beat I immediately added, “Jeez, I hope he’s good looking!” We still laugh about that comment today.

Age is a frame of mind. I believe that. But as my appearance changes & people see me with grown children, I tend to get called Ma’am, which never use to happen. I hate it - I’m not a Ma’am - I’m a Rhondi.

Just last week I was chatting with three male clients at work. As they were leaving, my friend Dean waved with a big smile and said... “See ya later Ma’am”. I quickly reacted.

“Don’t Ma’am me! Do I look like a Ma’am to you? Three days past dead is a Ma’am in my book... & I’m no where near dead!!!” All three customers burst into laughter.

As everyone made their way out the front entrance I heard a very loud exit bellow from my buddy Dean; “SEE YA LATER SWEET CHEEKS… “

…To which my equally loud and firm roar was “MUCH BETTER!”

When One Door Closes? Be Smart and Climb in a Window!

So my “four alarm fire” week finally ended. It ended with me playing hooky from work yesterday afternoon for some much needed ME time. Yup, what started out as a simple errand, ended up as an RTFR (road trip for Rhondi)!

Spring always has me restless but this year even more so. In my line of work, opening the lakes in Muskoka signifies that every single flood gate in my day to day life  open and open fast. My job will require me to work from sunrise, pretty much until sunset, six days a week, for more than six months. 

I’m not complaining; as I have blogged before, I am a leader and I’ve dressed for the job I want and have. 

It’s just that with my stressful week behind me I know now for certain that the lakes have opened a month early this year. So, as I head to the Spring Cottage Life Show next week I have to wonder, does this mean I will officially burn out and require a bib before the Asian tour buses arrive and the leaves change in the fall?

A very wise person gave me some great advice recently. They looked me in the eye and firmly stated “stop over thinking everything… you over analyze everything to death… !” Funny how when someone states the obvious it helps one understand the reality.

Yes-sir-reeee! Yesterday was the first time in a long time I didn’t over think and it felt really good. When was the last time I had as much fun as I had yesterday afternoon? Haven’t a clue, but I do know one thing for sure, it’s not going to be THAT long until I don’t over think ever again.

PSST…My boss is in Florida so no one tell him. He’d kill me for playing hooky when the lakes are open!!!

... Please Pose For Me Mr. Fireman!

Why is it lately I feel like I take one step forward and two steps back? 

My day started productively. My desk cleared itself nicely, had an office visit from two of my favorite clients, and spent my lunch hour in the sun. Definitely great, one step forward!

Missing in action mid afternoon, a friend text asking “…You there?” My response, “I have a four alarm fire!" My next text is something I have been asking myself for quite sometime. “Why is there never a good looking firefighter around when I need one?"  

In an effort to keep my post light, allow me to remind everyone that firefighters (as observed daily on my $20 calendar) truly have great skill. This afternoon, I could have embraced two of their very specific talents, which may have helped me personally in my time of need:

1. Their ability to instinctively assist and support with my situation at hand (trust me there were flames everywhere).
2. Their ability to perform a “real time” calendar pose right in the middle of the warehouse (which would have been followed by me asking if I could 'tap that ass' to relieve some extremely elevated levels of tension).  

Suffice is to say, neither rescue occurred….

TRUTH: I wish that I could take one day, hang out and observe, how certain folk would "walk a mile in my shoes".

Scratch that. Not an option. I’m sure they’d just complain. I know them. 

My shoes would not only be the wrong size but the wrong style. Hardest part for me to watch? How they’d take them off after 5 minutes because they would never be able to mange how quickly they move, in several directions, at the same time, to benefit everyone else. Hence my two steps back.

Legal Disclaimer: No firemen were harmed in the creation of this post

The Peacock’s Nest is Getting Ready to OPEN!

In all the years we have owned Orillia Lake; never has the ice been out this early, the snow disappeared so quickly, nor our red steel roof shed its winter coat and melted before the first day of Spring.

March Break for us has always been (as a family) when we would officially open the cottage. In the early years we’d take time off with the kids, snowshoe in, clear the decks and have our first stay of the new season.

In the last few years, due to part time jobs and graduation, family visits became fewer and farther between. What use to be our family haven became that place we played board games (yawn), listened to Super Hits Saturday Night (ick) and (God forbid) didn't have an internet connection! 

So many things changed last year. The weather was so poor we never opened for business until Canada Day weekend - and I spent most of my time there alone as both Tony and the kids seemed to have had enough.

This year my plan is to open early and spend as much time there as possible.

Not because I don’t love the house in town (and my standing Friday night tee time) but because I won’t entertain selling the spot until I have made an honest effort of enjoying it without the kids being around. Am I nervous for what the 2012 season will bring? No way.

My plan is to soak up as much sun as possible, read books and more books, and if it rains I'll just stay in bed and watch one of my 200+ movies. If that doesn't float my boat I’ll buy a jet ski.

I am dead serious. If I get cabin fever, I can trailer that puppy onto the big lakes in a heart beat. Glass half full? Absolutely! Who's the smart chick that isn't paying a crippling tax bill?

That's right peeps... I'm always thinking!

Sunday Sunshine Always Makes Me Smile…

I woke up this morning, jumped in the shower, and I have to admit I have a skip in my step. 

For me, there is nothing better than a spring like winter day (especially when it just happens to arrive on a day that I don’t have to haul my sorry ass into work)!

True to form, my list is complete for the day. Indoor chores are few and outdoor chores are many. The fact that I’ll be able to wear a heavy sweater & gloves has me ecstatic. There’s always something in the air on a day like today that makes me smile. It’s like I am unstoppable or something.

For whatever reason I always end up in the back yard with a bonfire started. Not because I have something to burn (though I have been known to empty the garage of stuff without warning) but because it feels right. 

I am so jazzed for a really great day that I don’t even give a crap (no pun intended) that my first outdoor chore is to clean Daisy & Dots front yard powder room. Bring on the wheel barrel and my rubber boots – I’m on a mission!

Who says you have to be in Jamaica this time of year to tan? 

Regrets? I’ve Had a Few But Who Hasn’t?

When I was standing at the YYZ luggage carrousel (at 4am) yesterday morning I heard myself saying to a couple close by that “I regret agreeing to a late checkout/flight from Jamaica."

I have been thinking about regret a lot lately....

Now that I am rested, I really don't regret the late choice. In hindsight, I was simply disappointed that my plane was delayed, making me overtired and grumpy. 

Personally, my regrets are few. More often than not lately, I've had a string of brutal, almost devastating, disappointments. Safe to say (for me anyway) I eventually recover from disappointment but regret tends to linger.

Confused? Let me help.

I regret never telling my mother that I loved her before she died. I have regretted that since her death in 1987. “I love you” was an unspoken phrase in our home growing up so taking that step was a leap.

In hindsight, I often think of her (at the end), wondering if I would have said the words, maybe she would have said them back. Either way, I regret never having tried. I wanted to “go there” but I guess in the end I didn’t want to be disappointed.

The moral of my story?

Will I regret calling you an asshole if you are one? Nope… Will I be disappointed if we never speak again? Definitely. Especially if you aren't an asshole.

"I Miss You"

For those of you that don’t know me very well, I am a list person. My desk at work is filled with colourful Post-it notes of tasks I need to accomplish. Every Saturday & Sunday morning, over my only cup of coffee, I make a list.

My dad Herve wasn’t always a list person but became one after he retired. He approached his tasks a little differently than I but he was a list person just the same.  

I use to ask him... “Dad, when are you going to get around to doing so and so” and his standard reply was always… “Rhondi, I have a list. Everyday I look at my list and pick three things that I want to get done. If something shows up at the top that I don’t want to do, I don't do it. It goes to the bottom... I know it will eventually make its way up to the top again.”

I can hear him speaking the words. I miss him. I miss him every single day, which brings me to this mornings question. Why do we miss someone?

When it comes to my dad, the math is easy. He was my beacon (taught me to golf, ski, & fish). My personal confidant (even though I always knew he liked my husband better). And my life coach (yes maam, I can change a furnace filter with ease and I love to do the yard work). So I guess I’m not really talking about him per say.

There are people I miss on a daily basis. Some are near to me, and some far away from me, but I still miss them. It’s hard to express to someone that you miss them. It’s not an emotion easily verbalized. I suppose that's why I rarely say anything to the person I am missing.

I guess the best practice may be to just acknowledge the void as just that, a dulling pain that can’t be soothed. I'll just close my eyes, think of all the good I have experienced, smile and quietly keep my thoughts of angst to myself.

Now back to my list. Hmmm, what shall I prepare for dinner? I just wrote down chicken. 

The Countdown is On!

It seems the countdown is on to my much needed and seriously overdue vacation.

I have been so busy with work (and other things going on in my life) that I've spent zero time thinking about my trip and what it will offer.

You’ll be encouraged to know that I have started packing. I started with the suitcase I usually board a plane with, upgraded to her larger (much older more attractive) sister, and today purchased a “Big Momma” of a thing because... “I really do need to take THAT many pairs of shoes!"

As I gazed at my clothes on the bed, I thought about all the summers we’ve spent on Orillia Lake since 1999. Has owning a cottage in Muskoka filled the void of a winter vacation?

Without hesitation. Absolutely! I live - work - and cottage - within 15 minutes of the other. Life does not get any better than that! 

We've raised our children (and help raise other peoples children) on our lake. Lived there the summer of 2002 until our new house in town closed, perfected my golf swing from what is now the fire pit, and the Reid’s (plus Shane) next door are truly a part of our family.

I’m not sure why I am second guessing my trip to the Caribbean. Possibly because the amount of money being spent could purchase a very good/used pontoon boat for the dogs. Settle down, I'm kidding. The money could have been spent on something much more practical... 

...A hot tub for Rhondi!