If You Build It... They Will Come!

Say HELLO to our 2nd Sunday group.
(Ready to tour great architecture on Lake Rosseau)
Taken: October 20th, 2013

What a weekend. Great people, good fun, amazing architecture; not to mention teehee crazy sarcasm & laughter with Gus for eight solid hours Saturday!

Let me back up. Friday offered a couple of surprises and lots of laughs. What can I say, other than I regret staying up way well past my bed time.

Saturday morning had us crossing Lake Rosseau for a much anticipated site visit of a well known Canadian family. I had only ever seen the Architect's vision for this property on paper, so I was giddy about seeing it built. 

As the only Muskoka Builders' Association Member/Sponsor/Guest in attendance, when I stepped on the island, I was absolutely gobsmacked. As I tried to absorb the beauty that surrounded me, I was interrupted as a familiar voice called my name.

Everyone.. This is my friend Chris!
Taken: October 19th, 2013

It was Chris. He was calling from a distance, welcoming me. A friendly hello or not, here's the deal. Chris Madden is amazing at his craft.

As silly as it sounds, it’s almost like he is the Maestro, empowering his team to deliver the perfect symphony. I'm not just saying that because he's my friend, I am going on the record with that because I respect him. I completely understand the process, and he delivered. On an island no less!

Shifting from boat to bus, had me (crawling through the Cranberry Festival and) over to Lake Muskoka for our next site visit. This wasn't as emotional a jaunt, yet a very technical one. The Architect's were like moths to a flame. I just stood back and observed as they admired this project in progress.

I'd talk about my Host, but I never asked if I could, so I probably shouldn't. I would like to share that he's always been supportive of me. In fact, on Friday when I finally got to meet a specific Architect I had admired forever, it was he that formally introduced us. I felt blessed by his accolades. I know they were both heartfelt and sincere.

Respect is earned, and he most certainly has mine. He knows my personal commitment to the construction industry here in Muskoka; we both know how critical the future is. A single minute in his company is time well spent. I have known him for many years, and my respect is unconditional and never ending.

Meet my BFF Bill Ferguson.
The builder that started it all for me in '05.
Taken: October 20th, 2013

So, we finally hit Sunday. I officially became the 'Hostess with the Mostess' for my employer as well as my BFF Bill. The temperature outdoors in the morn was balmy 4C. It was freaking cold, and the boat we spend 4 hours aboard was made of 60 tons of steel.

I wore an undershirt, no leggings. Dress socks, no boots. I stole the Captain's gloves, and I debated wrestling a guest for their earmuffs, as I'm sure I could have taken her. No pun intended, but cooler heads prevailed!!

It was an experience to say the least. Nothing bad, and 1,000% good. WOW is the only word that comes to mind.

For once in my life, without effort,  I lived in the moment. The weekend that started with my phone, ended with my camera. Though my post may not be filled with my regular quips of humour, I am pleased to report that I laughed more on Saturday than I have in years.

Not gonna lie. It felt really great!

A Quiet Milestone...

Yesterday was a quiet milestone for us as a family. For the very first time we celebrated Thanksgiving alone. No extended family nor hullabaloo, just five adults (and two salivating dogs) hanging around in the kitchen table yammering. All while the oven cooked our bird, and the stovetop prepared the rest.

Twenty four hours later, I loved how relaxed our day was. I loved how intimately our evening evolved, I loved that it was eerily familiar. Yesterday was one of those out of body experiences for me. Even though razor sharp sarcasm filled the air, it was like there was an unacknowledged angst among us. You know, that undesirable feeling you have when you're waiting for the other shoe to drop!

A couple of hours in, Jukebox admitted he thought I would immediately try to ruffle his feathers by telling him to “get a haircut”... but the truth of the matter is I love his hair. It’s the first thing I noticed when he arrived. He’s finally embracing all the beautiful curls he was born with.

Each great day is exactly that... GREAT!
Taken: August 22nd, 2007

It’s been a long time since I had that much anticipation (about a specific day) the way I did yesterday.

It was right up there with the day I discovered my oldest son had officially outgrown his need for me as a parent. 

Oh, how I'd looked forward to spending that day with him. I hadn't spent any time with him all summer, and I knew our day trip would give us a chance to spend time together. 

I remember I made him sit next to me on the bus down to Canada's Wonderland, and his dad and I enjoyed his exclusive company for the entire day. Yup, by the time we headed home, I most certainly understood that I'd been given job description reality check.

Hard to believe the very day I am describing was Saturday August 22nd, 2007.

GREAT day just the same!

Thanks for yesterday Jukebox. I know you don't need me anymore, but I really do love you very much!

The Genetics of Baking

My mother was an amazing baker. She inherited the gift from her mother, and handed both of her "B" genes down my sister and I. Andrea’s got moms baking gene, and I've got her other "B" gene. Her business gene.

Once my mom was confined to a wheelchair, there were a few things she knew she'd have to teach my dad. At the top of her list, was teaching him how to cook. By the time she passed, my Dad was outstanding in the kitchen. The other feather in her cap, was that she had also taught him how to bake.

Until the day he died, my dad was a pie guy. Not the 3.1514926 kinda Pi, but the lemon meringue, sugar, and hot apple kind. All of his creations were absolutely wunderbar. When my kids were small, he use to ring me up and tell me he was baking pies. He knew I especially loved his apple pie, so if he could put his hands on the right species, he was baking me a pie.

The minute Jukebox was born, he quit smoking. Suffice is to say, the weight gain (due to eating instead of smoking) quickly followed. My husband and I knew there was an issue when he arrived at the door one Sunday morning with his baked goods offering for Sunday supper. We were a little confused when there was a generous slice missing.

I remember asking him “did you have to test ours to make sure it was safe?” Matter a fact he replied "No... I ate mine last night, and I wanted another piece for breakfast!” I can still see the look on his face as he held out the partially eaten pie. Like it was completely normal. In hindsight it was. It was classic Herve!

Who says I am genetically challenged?
It's a beautiful site and smell tres yummy!
Taken: October 14th, 2013

Anyhoo, in honour of my parents, I baked a pie this morning. Strawberry-Rhubarb to be exact.

I was kinda shocked it only took me 70-75 minutes from start to finish. My competitive nature tells me I could have been done faster, but to hone my skill set, I decided to invest the time.

Who am I kidding? The only reason I spent the extra time was because the label read... “For best results ~ BAKE from frozen!”

Happy Thanksgiving Peeps.

Give thanks, and remember to always keep smiling.

WOODn’t You Like To Help?!

When it comes to the day to day chores at home, there are only two things that I really hate doing. One is taking out the garbage, and the second is hauling wood. The chore of the garbage will never be a participation sport for me, however, I know I am going to have to kick it up a notch in the hauling wood department.

The first two of our ten cord arrived this morning.
Get me some A535...STAT!
Taken: October 12th, 2013

Oh, the mighty double edged sword... Or shall I say axe?

Once my son started paying rent, he was ambitiously quick to point out that it was exactly that: “Room and Board” not “Room and Chores!” 

Just like our Sunday night suppers, the hauling and piling of wood in the fall, has been a seasonal tradition since we bought our home in 2002.

I really do love the airtight fireplace we have.

I love the warmth the fire offers me on those damp fall days, and cold winter nights.

Yet, I hate the stinking mess it produces! Not to mention, the day to day regiment of keeping it stocked, stoked, and going strong with the flames a flickering.

Ah hell, what the heck am I grumbling for? There's only one thing I love more than my fuzzy socks and painfully ugly off season bathrobe... and that's embracing them both in front of a toasty fire in the fireplace.

Those three simple indulgences right there truly help get me through our harsh Muskoka winters!

Those, and a couple of other tricky tidbits, I'd rather not share just yet.

What Happiness Looks Like

My husband and I inherited our friend Brian from my father. 

You see, Brian was Poppa’s next door neighbour. In fact, he always used to say to he and Renee “let me know if you're having a party. I'll roll over onto my good ear. I won't hear a thing!” My Dad loved them both very much.

Our couple friendship solidified in 1999, when Brian was our Realtor Extraordinaire on our Orillia Lake purchase. Outside of that, I remember the first time we got together to play cards. It was automatically the men against the women. It became a constant source of banter, not to mention pure comedic relief each and every time we got together. 

I lost my long standing euchre partner Renee to breast cancer a few years back. She suffered terribly, I miss her even today, but my story really is about Brian. He endured an exhausting and heartbreaking journey, handled it impeccably, so naturally we prayed he'd once again find happiness.

Quite simply a 'BLT' moment... Brian Loves Tess.
Taken: October 5th, 2013
Orillia Lake

Enter... Tess

I remember the first time we ran into them at the Home Depot.

Brian was his jovial self, while Tess was welcoming and looked absolutely amazing. Shopping at the home depot no less!

As a couple they have an energy. More a calmness really, which is very comforting to witness. Meant to be is the only way I can describe it.

Anyway, Saturday, Brian brought Tess out to Orillia Lake for the very first time. We raised our glasses to our health, and we played our very first game of Euchre.

Once again, it was guys against the girls. Once again, the girls kicked some serious ass. 

Of course, on cue, Brian and Tony accused Tess and I of cheating (on our very first hand) which leads me to my final thoughts.

TESS, thanks so very much for the really great visit. 

BOYS, it's been almost fifteen years... Face the statistical facts. 

You are BOTH just really shitty euchre players!

Ezmara's Got Game!

Not gonna lie, I got drenched walking home from work tonight. The skies opened up and overloaded onto my umbrella. It wasn't just raining cats and dogs, it felt like the skies had every single OSPCA adoptee in Ontario pouring down around me.  Yikes-a-Bee!

Astonishment aside, I'm not sugar, so I certainly did not melt. Yet walking home, I really did witnessed Mother Nature doing her thang. Based on her past four days of volatility, I swear she's in need of two things; some serious aromatherapy, and the company of a good man that lasts well into our next summer season! 

Ezmara was Noah's wife...
Talk about a 50% share in a "BOAT THAT FLOATS"!
Taken: October 7th, 2013

Needless to say, as her and I reached the top of the hill (and I finally approached our driveway) her rant subsided. Yet, the damage was done. 

As I wiped the rain from my face, the weirdest question entered my head. As I snapped my pic, I wondered about another extremely strong woman.

Knowing the direction of my post, when I got into the house I yelled “GOOB! Google what Noah’s wife’s name was!!"

With about as much interest as someone having an ingrown toenail removed he asked 'why'.

“Because she's one gal that's got game” I said.

“Not only that... When Dad pulls in the driveway, we're starting to build a stinkin' Ark!”

Who am I kidding? The list on the fridge says we need to pile firewood tonight. Guess the overall emotion of my walk home got the best of me.

Nothing moving ten cord of firewood won't cure!!

Pedal, Walk, or Run… I’m Having FUN!

Pedalling the Pups in the rain...
Taken: Friday October 4th, 2014

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

Oh, my 'Quest For My Waist'. What a journey it has been.

Sometimes I wonder how I lost the weight I had gained, but more importantly I never want to forget HOW I gained the pounds I have lost.

It's been almost three years since I started my quest, and I’m still not happy with my shape and size. Then again, I wonder if any woman my age ever really is.

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

Keeping with that last thought, my personal fitness guru was telling me that eating chocolate releases the same endorphins as having an orgasm.  Intrigued by the statement, I decided to do some basic math. The average chocolate bar contains 884 calories.  Having sex, can burn up to 300 calories per half hour. 

Hmmm, I say the perfect solution is to enjoy an amazing two hour romp, and avoid any type of chocolate offering all together. That gives me a big bonus 1200 calories burned, and a perma smile that will stay with me way longer than any silly Kit Kat bar can possibly offer!

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

Whip? Maybe, not. Blindfold? Definitely, MAYBE!

Way To Go ME!

Have you ever had something unforeseen happen in your life? You know, an occasion when you've ultimately had to pinch yourself?

I don't mean winning the lottery, because let's face it... that happening is right up there with getting hit by lightning. I'm talking about something truly unforeseen, that's both personally astonishing and OMG unexpected.

I, more than most, am a very direct person. Speaking from experience, I'm also a firm believer that the majority of people I come in contact with have an agenda. 

That said, though I have a confidently direct persona, I still struggle with certain dialogue depending on our relationship history. 

Truth of the matter is that there are certain people in my life I am incapable of serving brutal honesty to.

Yesterday, out of the blue, produced one of those very unexpected "AH-ha" kinda moments. I was surprised, yet I knew I desperately wanted the cycle to stop.

You know what I mean?

That instant when once and for all you finally decide that the last thing you want to endure is another fully loaded bullshit sandwich...

Guess I saw my opening and I took it. Way to go ME!

It's Official... All Couples Complain!

I don't think I've shared this before, but I have known my husband since first grade. 

You may find it odd that I remember that little tidbit, but I have pictures of us in the same public school class the first year my family moved to town. Though we went all the way through to high school graduation together, we really did run in different circles. Why? My mother was strict, his mother was not.

Once we graduated high school, I worked for a year before I left for college. It was then, that we started bumping into each other once a week (at my work) because our jobs intersected. Flash forward a few years, when we officially ran into each other one busy Friday night in Muskoka. I was living in Toronto and home for a visit. It was when my mother first got sick.

Enjoying Canada's Wonderland without the kids.
Taken: July 2000

Why so reflective? 

I had a client come in to see me at work this past week and she was complaining about her husband. What she didn't know was that he had been in complaining about her earlier in the day.

They both admitted to me that they had been married over 50 years. After chatting with them, I felt a calm relief.

I understand the person you marry when you're in your early twenties, may not be the one you'd choose as a life partner at forty five or fifty. I get that.

BUT, that complaining couple reassured me that my husband and I are not alone. Truth of the matter is, just like them, we'll never stop bitching and moaning about the others idiosyncrasies, even into our 70's.

That quirky couple taught me a valuable life lesson. If you can manage to stay best friends and (constantly work to) stay on the very same page? Nothing else matters.

I'M EXCITED BABY... After listening to them...You & I have definitely got it made!

RIP Mr. Rutherford. You Will Be Missed.

John Harvey Rutherford was a great teacher. He made you want to strive for absolute excellence, and settle for nothing less. He, had an amazing sense of humour. He, was a great leader.

John Harvey Rutherford
1924-2013

I feel extremely lucky to have been a part of his 1983 Concert Band. It was the last he showcased before he retired. (At that point as a group, we'd been together since grade seven.)

To this very day I can still remember our final concert. 

I can still see him on the podium that warm night in June. He had our respect. We idolized his command. More than that, I remember the sound. So refined and pure. We were perfection, and he was elated.

Back in the day, I played the French Horn. I was partnered with Judy Murray, and together we played second string.

I lived 9/10’s of a mile from the school. How do I remember that? Kids that lived a mile away got to ride the bus. I did not. 

I remember I use to try and practice at home at least twice a month. Let me tell ya, lugging that baby up Hunt’s Hill, made me wish I played the clarinet! That awkward case may have been heavy, but Mr. Rutherford inspired you to want to do the work. I am proud he instilled that valuable life skill, because it's still very much a part of me today.

All this week his former students have reminisced about the impact his teaching made on them at that significant stage in their life. I was one of the lucky ones. Lucky enough to remain in a small town where he and I would occasionally rub elbows. 

Last night I got to say goodbye to an amazing teacher, father, husband, mentor, and musical genius.

He was a great man.

He was 89.

Just Play Nice!

Hey Summer, 
See, it isn't so hard to be nice!
Yours truly,
Fall

My friend Andy posted this as his Facebook status this morning and I immediately thought it was golden. The lad honestly doesn't post much, but when he does, he’s definitely bang the heck on. 

He had mentioned reading my post about ‘being ripped off' that summer was over so quickly and without any memorable weather.  Just like yours truly, all he had done was work. 

As we head into a Friday of this amazing weather run, who gives a Flying Wallenda feck about the past? It’s all water under the bad Muskoka summer weather bridge.

Enjoying my 2nd of four consecutive long weekends.
TAKEN: September 22nd, 2013

Yup, the first official week of Fall has totally redeemed my faith, and my crappy weather profanity has completely ceased.

This week’s weather has had me higher than a kid in a candy store, with no parents patrolling jube jube bin.

It’s been nothing less than a bon bon load of Vitamin D heaven for this cat!

I can feel it. This will be a Fall to remember. Why? For a month straight, I am working four day work weeks that end Thanksgiving Monday. 

I’m enjoying a very unexpected extended cottage season and it feel great. Hence, I feel the extreme need to "Cheers" to Mother Nature for getting her head out of her ass.

Better late than never girlfriend... Better late than never!!

A Couple of Crazy Daze!

Why is it that when you take a day off work, everything is still waiting for you when you get back? I know why it’s that way in my instance; but truth of the matter is, I honestly wish it wasn’t.

You've heard me say a number of times that “a reflection has a purpose". That for me personally, is true on so many levels. A mirror may let you know how you look and feel on the outside, but I feel appreciating your inner reflection is equally important. 

What do I consider inner reflection? You know, understanding that how you're inward feelings, truly match your what you feel in your heart. That the inner notions of everyday, mate with how you're outwardly expressing yourself. 

I went for a much needed walk on my lunch today. I had called a very close friend in the morning, and he called me back while I was out walking. He called, because he sensed something in my voice. After almost an hour on the phone, he confirmed all of my suspicions to be true.

She's CRAZY like a fox!
Taken: September 23rd, 2013

I am truly grateful of how my colleagues within my network (and my family and friends) have unconditionally invested in me. 

I am proud of my work ethic, and the never ending energy that encompasses me most each and every day.

Tonight? I kind of feel like Dot looked in this picture I snapped of her on Monday night.

From where she’s standing; she doesn't have a care in the world, and the sky is most definitely the limit.

I can tell she’s not sure what’s ahead of her....

BUT, she sure as hell, ain't lookin’ back!

My Good Weather/Bad Hair Pixies

I had a great day. My good weather Fairy was up early and dutifully prancing, for my 7am walk into work. It was the best weather morning we had all week!

With a skip in my step, I was wearing a tank top under my short sleeved golf coat, sandals, and a smile. I loved the smell in the air, yet struggle that the streetlights were on. It's like the the beautiful sunrise, had been slapped with a dimmer switch.

I AM absolutely, and unequivocally exhausted. I can feel myself squinting all the time because my eyes are dry. And though I always eat healthily, and drink gallons of water, lately I am feeling like a well groomed horse at the inspection gate of the glue factory.

I was lucky enough to have two lunch dates this past work week; one for business, and one for pleasure. As my personal friend and I settled into our regular table at lunch, he took one look at me and was generally concerned.

Without missing a beat he looked me square in the eye and asked... "How is your health?

"Take Care of your health Rhondi" he said. "If you don't... nobody else will do it for you." You know what? He's absolutely right!

Officially capturing the Fall of Summer
Taken: September 20ish, 2012

The photo I am sharing was snapped exactly a year ago this weekend. 

What was the first thing that crossed my mind when I stumbled across it? What the hell was I thinking in the bangs department! 

In hindsight? I am convinced it was a plot! Damn you Bad Hair Pixies!!!

Anyway, (while that specific brain teaser is immediately being logged by the Producers at Ripley's Believe It or Not, I must admit) I can't believe the difference in my appearance. 

JJ was really worried about me today at lunch. He's a very genuine person, so hiding his emotion isn't his strong suit. I felt the need to put his mind at ease, but I knew he was bang on.

Though we've decided to head to the coast with the dogs again this Christmas break, I think it just may be time for a good Fall inventory.

That, and a trip to the Spa. I hope they don't mind that I nap at the drop of a hat. 

Oh, and that I snore... REALLY REALLY LOUD!!

Spending Saturday At The Beach

Since the 2013 opening of Orillia Lake, this will be with first weekend we don't trek in for at least one night. Even the weekend we moved Staci, we stayed over, then ventured into town to load up her crap!

Dottie n' Me, and Bessie made three!
Taken: August 2013

Not sleeping there this weekend, is really kind of a big deal for us. Let's face it, all my 'weather bitching' aside, we truly did have an amazing summer. 

I'm pleased to report, that our $300 'boat for the pups' acquisition (we named Bessie) has more than paid for itself. 

YUP, for every minute of enjoyment my canine kids received, my suntan visibly improved ten-fold. I literally soaked up every single drop of weekend sunshine that Mother Nature had to offer!

So what beach would I ditch this sure thing for?
Kirby's?
Wasaga?
Miami?
None of the above... This Saturday, I am going golfing!!

It's official; for the summer of 2013, I traded my golf clubs in for the good ole cottage.

It's not that the sport has faded as a passion of mine, I just spent this past summer trying to find a common balance. The handful of times I did see play, I didn't suck... but I also was never in the company of a competitive foursome. Guess I am the first to admit that my desire to golf well (exactly when I need to) is something I have yet to refine as a solid skill!

So, Saturday should be interesting; because I am expected to 'bring it'. All I'll say, is that when my clubs are working, there isn't a sand bunker my ball doesn't land in the friggin' dead centre of. Not working, I best bring a stinking lawn chair. Hence, why I know for certain I will be spending Saturday... AT THE BEACH!!

Sunday? Pffft... Groceries, laundry, and ten other mundane things, which are slated to be named later!

My Father's Shoes...

I'm sure you'll agree that a great Fall cleaning is far more work than a thorough multi-tasked Spring one. As a result, I was beat when faced with an emotional ritual that has been a part of our home since the summer of 2005. The placing of my father's shoes.

Getting ready to celebrate the twins 13th Birthday...

Only eighteen days before he passed.

Taken: June 5th, 2005

I am so glad that my father spent his final six months in our home. The outpouring of love we all shared as a family is still talked about regularly all these years later. 

I am not sure if I've admitted that I never did share his prognosis with him, but in the end, it was me that entered the world of denial. 

I was convinced that under our care he would live forever. Silly I know, but it's how the process unfolded for me personally.

We all know the fate he eventually suffered, but since the day he died, I have kept his favourite pair of shoes on display at our front door.

His shoes quickly became a respected staple (a conversation piece) so to speak. Every time they suffered a fall from the landing, one of the kids would yell "MOM... the dog knocked Poppa's shoes off again!" His tan leather laced shoes welcomely became a part of our family.

To this day, I am grateful of my choice. 

You see, when my father's estate was settled, we had to purchased anything we wanted from the other siblings. It was like an auction per say. Before we ever started the initial purchase, we got to pick one single item that would be considered a "gift". I chose my father's favourite pair of shoes. 

I remember my brothers condescendingly asking me what I would want with a pair of shoes. My response was heartfelt and true. "When Dad left our home, he wasn't ready. It wasn't his time" I said. But for me now, the story is much bigger than the statement I made out of instinct that terrible day.... 

Today, like so many times before, when I held his shoes, I could still hear him saying Thank You.

I love that I am the one that was both chosen and blessed. Chosen by him to tie his very favourite pair of shoes... and blessed to still have them.

I love you Dad...

That AMAZING Summer Of 2002...

The summer of 2002 was the only summer we ever lived at Orillia Lake as a family.
I snapped a ton of photos that summer. This has always been one of my all time favourites.
Taken: July 2002

I worked Saturday morning. Afterwards, we unexpectedly landed at the cottage.

When I finally hauled my ass out of bed this morning, I changed the beds, washed the floors, and packed up the dirty laundry. As I was putting the mop and pail back in the boy’s room, for the first time this summer, I was reminded of our harsh reality. All of our children have completely moved on. 

While admiring the door trim in the bedroom documenting their change in height, I knew I wanted to remove it. Not because we have any intention of selling the cottage, but because I want to apply a clear coat to preserve it. All of those colours, and all of that ink, are very significant to me as a mother. I remember making the marking a spring ritual. It makes me sad that the summer of 2013, was the first year the bedroom door trim saw zero documentation.

I remember my American friend Brad saying "I don't keep photos... I have absolutely no desire to live in the past." Personally, I am the total opposite.

Not that I want to live my life in the past, but I really do believe that a picture is worth 1,000 words. Words that get expressed the instant the photo was taken, then ten fold (by every single admirer) once that photo gets shared. Sharing a photo, is what makes it so special.

Today, I feel my photo is worth a million words. It personally takes me back in time. Over a decade later, to me... I feel, that it looks like a album cover. That said, what was a great vinyl album cover always guaranteed to do? Tell a kick ass great story, about a specific moment in time.

The summer of 2002 was a very special one for us. You can see the happiness, as well as the personal confidence in every single one of them. We were very happy that summer; music, movies,  and board games defined us as a family.

Hell, look at Jukebox. Was he always destined to be a Rockstar? Judging by this photo, all three were meant to grace a cover, and they just did.

It may not be a vinyl album cover (or the cover of the Rolling Stone) but it's the cover of our family album. Trust me, it's one of the most intricately complicated albums ever written.

... I dare every single reader to admit that theirs is not!

See Ya Later Summer!

I don't know about you, but I had such great plans for the summer of 2013. I can't believe it's over. How do I know it's finished? I got home from work tonight, and lit a fire in the downstairs fireplace. That right there tells me the writing is on the wall.

Matter a fact, I was chatting with a friend this morning on that very subject. I told him that I was officially exhausted, yet felt totally ripped off. I admitted that I had completely worked the summer away with little to no fun. I honestly feel we've just experienced the worst summer weather in 20 years!

Anyway, he empathized with my plight, admitting that even though he’d specifically made time for his young children, he had essentially done the same. What was the one thing we both agreed upon? That summer officially disappeared, before it ever really ever appeared.

Puddin' hogs my floatie chair... As well as my bed!
Taken: July 2013

The sad Summer of 2013 truth is (that more often than not) I'd ask my husband to dock the boat, because the cool weather air on the lake just wasn't enjoyable.

Best 2013 summer day? An amazing vacation day we took in July.

It was so hot that you’d perspire just walking around outside.  It was the only occasion all summer that we got to enjoy both our time... and the very refreshing lake. 

I honestly can't believe it's Fall Fair weekend already. Seems like it was only a minute and a half ago I was excited the snow had melted off the roof, and we would be able to put the water line in to enjoy the season.

Guess my sadness tonight is worrying about how many more sleeps I get to have before the water line has to be taken out, and winter sets in.

I have to wonder. With frost warning issued for tonight, does all the cool air mean Mother Nature's having hot flashes? Given my own predicament, that thought right there, will single handedly keep me from calling her a FAT HAIRY BITCH!

Ring Around The Rosie... I Mean Rhondi

I got out of the shower this morning, dressed for work, opened my jewelry box and put my wedding rings on. You’re probably thinking that would be a normal routine for me, but the truth of the matter is that I haven’t worn my rings since 2010. 

Prior to that, I had gained weight and getting them on and off became a struggle. Then, in the fall of 2010, I started to evaluated my life. In turn, I completely changed my approach to food, exercise, relationships, and my overall  day to day lifestyle.

Doing all of that led me to questions. Infinite questions about how I/we got to a particular juncture at that moment in time. In turn, once I finally got healthy, I didn't bother putting my rings back on. 

Our Wedding Day
Taken: June 1988

Do you know that in all these years, only one person has ever asked me the question "why don't you wear your wedding rings?"

God Bless my friend Dean. I remember briefly sharing why I wasn't wearing them, and he asked me one simple question: "Have the two of you ever been to counselling?" My answer was "no".

Then he said something that I'll never forget. "Why not? ...You take your car in for a check-up, why wouldn't you do the same for your marriage?"

I remember not having the answer. I just shrugged my shoulders and changed the subject. That significant moment was well over a year and a half ago.

Just so we're clear, it's not like we got up this morning (and with the flip of a switch) our life had turned into lollipops and unicorns. Truth of the matter is that today has been a long time coming, and has taken a lot of really hard work. Work by me, my husband, our children, and even a very few supportive family and friends. 

Why finally today? I have been telling my husband all summer "I have to start wearing my wedding rings again... I have to start wearing my wedding rings again... I have to start wearing my wedding rungs again" then Tuesday night happened.

I was over in Haliburton for an HHBA dinner meeting. One of the association members thought I was "with" the co-worker that I attended the meeting with. A couple of years ago I would have said nothing, Tuesday I felt the need to respond. "I'm not with him" I said. I've been married for 25 years, and my husbands name is Tony". Driving home, I knew it was time.

Wearing my rings got the opposite reaction my not wearing them got. Every single person at work today noticed. My boss even commented, inviting Tony (out of the blue) to a team event we are hosting in October. Who's the one person that never noticed? My husband.

...But that's another post!

I Know You Are But What Am I?

DUDE... QUIT BEING A BABY
I'M YOUR #1 FAN !!

Today an email/work buddy labelled me childish. 

Well, he's not really my buddy, but for all intensive purpose, let's place him in that 'lane' this evening simply for illustration purposes.

First off, if you're offended by my graphic offering this eve, you may want to stop reading immediately.

Not because I am going to be rude, but let's face it, if you find it childish, inbox me for my buddy's email address... You'll get along fine!

Most people get my overall personality and sarcasm out of the gate, others prefer to communicate like they're Joe Friday in an episode of Dragnet. "Just the facts Rhondi!"

Much to my dismay, I have tried, unsuccessfully, since December of 2011 to get this 'buddy o mine' to remove the very big burr he has lodged tightly up his ass. Guess the truth of the matter is, for this first time today, I realized that this person does not know how to have fun!

Which brings me to my point...

After him making his very observant offering of my persona this morning, it's officially time; time to stop trying to make someone embrace the circus, when they really wanna be workin' the local library circuit. 

What can I say? Just as I find comfort in laughter, I'm sure he finds the same in total control. Doesn't make me childish and him superior...  Just makes us extremely different.

Pfffffffffft... What the hell? Who put that very large whoopie cushion on my office chair?

I'm thinking it was FARTMAN!

The Fire Within...

The start of our six hour burn in the rain.
Taken: September 7th, 2013

The season's rapidly changing. With my suntan lotion tucked away, my plethora of warm fuzzy socks have bolted into action. 

After golf Friday, I landed at the cottage at dusk to officially enjoy our first time Fall(ish) fired woodstove.

Both exhausted, we literally slept around the clock into Saturday. With the fire in the woodstove keeping us toasty, we couldn't care less that we woke to rain mid-morning.

It was dreary and brisk outside, but nothing that couldn’t be endured; so right before lunch, we headed up the hill to clear the upper part of our property.

Even though we had company drop over throughout the afternoon, I still kept puttering. Tony entertained the troupes, and I hauled and burned dead crap for six whole hours. 

Then, at dusk, I dove in the lake. 

Knowing it was going to be my last swim of the year, I followed tradition and made it memorable. As I dove in the last few times (sans my swimming apparell) my husband declared me "insane" and bolted up to the cottage for another beer and hot shower.

I can't lie. It was cold. CRAZY cold! But growing up swimming in Lake Temiscaming, I have always been able to endure the cold water better than my spouse. I’m not going to say that he whines about lake water being cold, because the noise he makes tends to be more of a whimper really. It’s just not his thing. I get that. 

Snapped in the pouring rain.

RIGHT before my man barrelled
up the hill for a hot shower!

Taken: Sep 7th, 2013

For me, swimming after Labour Day is just an added bonus that signals the end of yet another season. Yesterday found me hot and sweaty (not in a good way) all afternoon, and last evening, the water was calling my name. 

Cold to the core, I quickly slipped up the stairs. Then into my jammies I jumped, and in front of the fire I planted my seriously shivering carcass.

I must say, there’s something to be said for the sound of a fire and the serenity it offers me. It's like it sparks a personal warmth, as well as a fire within.

That, and the fact that I am grateful the stinking woodstove quickly took the numbness out of my entire body. 

Shhh... No one tell Tony I said that. Because I really hate his day old "I told ya so" routine.

Head Down & Mouth Shut? Lucky 4U!

I LOVE where I'm at.... With regards to you?
Never liked you since we met more than 30yrs ago!
Taken: April 27th, 2008

I was scrolling through electronic files the other night when I came across a folder (my then assistant snapped) of pics taken the day we filmed my first commercial.

I don’t remember why I was looking down that day, but five years later this is a perfect self portrait for today.

Five years ago when faced with a day like today I would have easily stood up, roared so loudly that the hair on the back of your neck stood on end, whilst piss uncontrollably filled your pants.

I’m softer now. I tend to internalize more than I ever imagined I ever could. I'm at peace. I’m not conceding, yet proud of the fact.

I am completely aware that there is a calmness in my life that I have never had before. Whether it's because of that online anger management course I aced a couple years back, or just simply the 1-2 midlife/menopause punch I have been dealt; no matter what, I refuse to question or change it.

If I had to provide a tally I'd say there may be five people I have met in my entire life that really know me. Outside those few, there are those that feel they do, which (let's face it) is always a hurdle. Then, there are those that just simply want to stick their nose where it doesn’t belong. Not because they care, but out of habit. It's just who they are!

Well, today was that latter persons lucky day. They need to be extremely grateful that my outlook on life has changed. Though some may see them as "strong" my first thought process is that their smell isn’t everything.

Truth of the matter is they haven't seen strong. Why? Because I know for a fact that I could have easily kicked their sorry fat ass into submission today. Why didn't I do it? Because they are not worth a single ounce of my totally amazing Kung Fu kick ass energy.

I have it under wraps now...Seems I am holding it in reserve. It's just simply how I roll...!

Tootsie n’ Me & Corey Hart Made Three!

I know I can’t be the only one that feels that the best times are always had when spur of the moment planning falls into play. I had a great weekend and the amount of planning it took to pull it off was pretty much non-existent.

As I have mentioned before I have a very large extended family. Social media gives us the opportunity to stay in touch, but outside of weddings and funerals, we rarely make the effort to see each other. When I finally got to wrap my arms around my cousin Saturday afternoon, it felt like we'd been face to face just yesterday. It was amazing.

Because I worked Saturday, we were late getting things on track. To compound that, Mother Nature was a being bit of a bitch, so there were very few UV rays to be found. We didn't care. 

Sing it SISTA!
♪♫♪♫... We wear our sunglasses at night.... ♫♪♫♪
Taken: August 31st, 2013

After a boat ride and a yummy steak dinner, we ended up congregating where 99% of our friends (and our kids friends) wind up on Saturday night; in the kitchen with the tunes cranked. 

As the music played, the memories and the spirits flowed. It may have been a little chilly outside, but things were warm and fuzzy and fun inside. 

Because I work so much, when I get any time to myself, I am the first to acknowledge that I am an uber boring person. I talk to my dogs like they are people, I read, and I take scads of photos. As a couple we do entertain, but it's usually only dinner, an afternoon get together, or a quick overnighter. Marylynn was an anomaly, she spent the entire weekend.

As the thunder rolled this morning we headed up the hill; and as I hugged her in the rain, I was truly glad she'd made the trek. We've been literally getting together for the last three years and never had. 

Lookin' Good Tootsie!
Taken: September 1st, 2013

"Stay in touch on Facebook" she said as she got in her car. Then it dawned on me, it's Facebook that has made us feel as though no time had lapsed.

Blowing her kisses and waving as our cars pulled away from one and other it hit me. Making the effort the first time is always the hardest. 

Next time, it may be me that heads to her. I just have to somehow find the time to do it. 

Actually? I just simply NEED to make the time to do it!

Nuf said!

Call The Cops!

Once again, I arrived home this evening to complete curiosity as my husband yelled “CALL THE COPS!” He sounded convincing as he continued with “...there’s a head in the living room, but they've yet to locate the rest of the body!!”  As he grinned from ear to ear, I knew it was a scene to be seen.

Let's just say it would NOT take Sherlock Holmes to solve this crime. Hell, as stupid as the Holmes in Homes guy is on HGTV, he’d have ‘er solved without even having an exact description of the criminal at large. YUP: the mighty Puddin’ struck again!

You must think we’re total idiots here but I can assure you we are not. We strive to keep our home 'Puddin’ proof' but she just keeps getting the best of us. Seriously, dogs are not supposed to be able to open closet doors (nor large sealed Tupperware totes) but she does. 

Today casualties? Staci’s hair mannequins. I can visualize her running around the house for the entire day, baiting Dot to join in on the fun. I have no idea how she seeks out this shit; she chewed off the corner of the tote lid until she could pull that sucker off. I'm sure she was doing nothing less than an end zone dance 'cause she definitely hit the motherload.

I wouldn't believe half the crap she does if I didn't
see the evidence with my own eyes!
Taken: August 2013

What can I say other than it is what it is.

My sister was amazed at how she got the peanut butter jar out of the pantry in South Carolina, so tonight the picture I am posting is for her. 

Why? Because I wanted to let her know that it happened again! 

Last week Goob left the unopened jar on the counter and this is what I arrived home to. She tried for three days to get to the bottom of the jar.

Figured the least I could do was make her suffer, because I knew her tongue would never reach its desired destination!

As she sleeps at my feet, I am convinced that in all these antics she’s not acting alone.

My husband adamantly disagrees, and refuses to entertain anything other than Puddin’ is evil. I guess he has a point.

Out of fairness, Dot shall remain innocent until proven guilty. Yet, there’s one thing I know for sure...

I’m getting me a stinkin' Nanny Cam!

It's Jamaica Mon!

It is officially official! We are heading back to Jamaica. Wanna know the best part? Our plane is scheduled to land 15 minutes ahead of our American friends we are travelling with. All I could process this afternoon was that this trip was meant to be...

I have mixed emotions about returning to the island. Tony and I knew we'd eventually return, but I never imagined it would happen this fast. We'd discussed other destinations: yet, the only travel prerequisite my husband had, was that we take a trip on our own. I understand why but I truly struggled with leaving the dogs.  They really have become an extension of us as a couple.

Dog whispering aside, I need a break. The hardest part for me to comprehend? That my break will be like 154 million sleeps away. I know I'll have time at Christmas but it’s not the same. I guess deep down inside, that was the real choice; forfeit the house on the ocean for two weeks at Christmas, and enjoy one week in the Caribbean in the winter.

Why do I fret so much about the logistics? It’s NOT because everything old is new again, it's not. I think it's part and parcel because we are going to spend (what I consider to be) an obscene amount of savings to offer me the ability to read and read and read.

Shoes are NOT allowed in Jamaica!
Riu Tropical Palace
Negril, Jamaica
Taken: March 3rh, 2012

It's no joke. When we travel, Tony completely morphs into the extrovert and me the introvert. He tends to go go go until he drops, and I am just totally comfortable to relax and watch. 

Just like me normally, he talks to anyone & everyone. Myself? I admit I am more selective about idle chit chat: probably because I am not being paid to do it.

Seriously? Why does the God’s honest truth always make me sound like such a total BITCH? Guess if the shoe fits?!?!

HA! It’s Jamaica Mon.  For one week next winter... I won’t be wearing any!

TAP TAP TAP... Is This Thing On?

What makes someone who they are? Is it primarily behaviours that are taught?  Sheer genetics? Or is it as simple as ongoing self-discovery, that genuinely morphs a person until the day they die?

  

No doubt a tad deep for a Tuesday eve, but I woke up in the middle of the night last night asking myself those very questions. Relax; there were no tears from woes, just a really bad hot flash that had me sitting at my desk at 3am looking at photos. I looked at photos for at least an hour. My body was completely exhausted; my mind full of imagination, creativity, and reflection. So much has changed for me.

Change or not, I can’t believe this weekend is Labour Day and the summer is over. There was so much I wanted to accomplish, and my list of things to do is still far too long. I didn’t swim nor read as much as I had hoped, but the crappy weather did move me indoors where I started dancing again. I had forgotten just how much I had missed it, not to mention how strongly my inner balance is ingrained with it.

I’m not sure why I stopped. I haven’t really danced since I choreographed Guys and Dolls in 2003. I have always hacked about, entertaining the HENS, but I'd never gotten back into the routine of conditioning myself, or setting the proper time aside to do so.

Suppose the shitty weather this summer offered me the opportunity (as well as the time) to reignited my inner passion.

As I get ready to run a tub and jump into bed I reflect...

Have you ever noticed that when you’re looking for something that you've lost, you always find it in the very last place you look?

I guess that’s because once you've found it, you inevitably stop looking.

That said, I know I'll never stop again. Not because I am lost, but because I am truly grateful. I am bold faced ecstatic. I am happy! AND, I officially have really great gams to accompany both my disposition, as well as my smile!

Thanks for listening... Seacrest OUT!

Back Off Blockhead!

Yesterday I stayed late at work because my mid-afternoon appointment was running behind. I was already cranky because I had officially rolled a twelve hour day, but the truth of the matter is that it was an important meeting for me. The builder, homeowner, and architect, all arrived together; and let me start by saying there was no way I could have prepared myself for what happened next.

Builder shakes my hand and cordially introduces me to his very wealthy client. Client smiles, shakes my hand, and announces he’s pleased to meet me. Architect walks toward me, says his name and shakes my hand. He then instantly announces “Come here you….” Without hesitation, he wraps his arms around me, and gives me a kiss on the lips. He turns to his customer and says “It's okay, Rhondi and I go way back.” I had never met this total nimrod until the moment he slithered in. 

Instantly, images of Lucy VanPelt rushed to the forefront of my mind. Just like Lucy, all I wanted to do was shout at the top of my lungs “Auuuuugh! I've been kissed by a dog! I have dog germs! Get some hot water! Get some disinfectant! Get some iodine! Instead I froze in disbelief. I literally had to lift my my hand to close mouth that was frozen open.

Incase you're wondering...
I'm the one with the eyes wigging outta my head!

Just so we're clear, just because I brush my teeth and comb my hair does not give anyone license to enter my personal space bubble.

My personal space is exactly that, MINE. It truly has a real estate premium attached, AND it is (for lack of a better saying) a gosh for saken elite gated community. 

Glass half full? I never have to see this person again. From here on in the builder is running the show, and he and I are strictly on a "handshake only" basis. That said, if that dude ever walks into my place of work again, I know my voice will roar.

Which will be followed immediately by one very important question to my Bossman.... "What do you mean I don't get any severance pay? "

Happy Discovery Day Smartie

Smartie's Discovery Bay Campsite
Not to be confused with Discovery DAY. Which is a holiday throughout the Yukon today.
Glad I found that little ditty out in the wee hours of this morning!
Taken: June 9th, 2013

When enjoying cottage life, my phone is rarely by my side. The God's honest chance of getting something other than my voicemail on the weekend is slim to none at best. As a result, I haven't talked to Smartie (except via voicemail) in almost three weeks. 

Last night, well past 11pm, I was rattled awake by my cell phone ringing in my ear. Though I never take my phone to bed with me, at bedtime I made a point of setting it atop the headboard. Why? Let's just say I was hopeful I would be getting a call. 

Turns out I fell asleep watching a movie Saturday night; then I realized Sunday morn, that I had two missed calls. When I reversed looked up the number, I knew the calls were coming from a landline in Merritt BC. That's when I realized that Smartie was at his friend Monique's. Like the BFF he truly is, for the third weekend in a row, he tried to call me yet again. Knowing he'd be heading back to the Yukon yesterday afternoon, last night I patiently waited for his call.

Boy was I sleeping soundly when my phone woke me. I flipped on the light and headed down to the kitchen in an effort to wake myself up. After almost an hour on the phone he announced that he should let me get back to bed. At that point I was wide awake. When our call was about to end, last thing I said was "I love you... I'll call you at the office tomorrow".

"Call me at the house" he said. "Tomorrow is Discovery Day in the Yukon. It's a civic holiday here" he continued.

Hmmm, he had a holiday today yet got me out of bed and kept me on the phone until after midnight. All I could do was burst into laughter. That last bit of dialogue has to be the epitome of a Mars/Venus moment. It turns out it made no matter. Back to bed I went, and I was sound asleep in no time.

Happy Discovery Day Brian. Just to prove I pay attention when you send me stuff, I posted the Discovery Bay camping pic you emailed me from your trip in June. Your photo is absolutely amazing; I know (because we've already chatted) that your day was too.

As an aside? Seriously, how cold up is it up there at the end of September? Never mind. Don't tell me, or I'll change my mind about making the trek!

Will I need a winter coat and snow pants?

DRAT... I freakin' knew it!!

Trust Me... It Could Be Worse!

Work went completely off the rails. This week we let someone on our team go. Though it was very much an Adios Amigo moment for me,  getting even more shit piled on my coat tail from a 90 day probationary white elephant, was the last thing I needed to have happen.

I have said it before, and I will say it again, I have a pretty sweet job. I speak to tons of people in a week, and (aside from the two or three annually that I wish would burn in hell) 99.9% of them make me smile. Warm and fuzziness aside, pushing through sometimes seems impossible. Today was one of those 'Muskoka summer' days.

In retrospect, I've been emailing back and forth with a colleague all week, and it appears he's generally as tired as I am. He has very small children, is active in coaching minor sports, and has a high pressure job. I honestly have a lot of respect for him. He has a brilliant mind, and an astute business sense; when I think I am having a bad day, I think of him.

I've always said "I'm a hugger!"

If I were living his life instead of mine, I know that every night I would be wearing a dinner jacket.

You know the one...

It's white, with long sleeves, that makes me hug myself really really tight.

Oh, and let's not forget the really cute wrap around belt that comes with ...VERY SEXY!

Seriously, no matter how bad a day I’ve had, I am grateful that I don’t have to arrive home to a boat load of youngins and a list of things to do that's longer than a one armed paper hanger.

Instead, I feel blessed to land home to a canoe full of adults. A very handsome brood that refuses to put a single plate in the dishwasher.

DO NOT get me started!! My volume may wake children that are falling asleep all the way across town. After the week we've had, my colleague deserves better.