My Post Tonight Is For Puddin'

It was two years ago tonight that I dialed up the breeder I’d been working with: Due to a series of unpredictable events, I was simultaneously and very impressively balancing a full blown panic attack. Trust me, I'd had better moments.

I remember it well. My daughter was with me in tears as I haphazardly explained that my Daisy Marie had been killed and that the OSPCA had prepared me that my Spottie Dottie would never return. Crying, I asked if the last of the litter we’d been discussing had been sold.

My heart sank as she explained that it had, then she totally redeemed herself when she said that the last puppy’s potential owner decided to leave her behind. Turns out they didn't want to spend the money on her because they’d had their heart set on a male. Suffice is to say, we immediately drove to get her and brought her home. 

A very rare moment in my life... That I believe... Was truly meant to be. 

My little water dog is not so little anymore. Happy Anniversary Puddin'
Taken: June 10th, 2012 & June 10th 2014

Don't get me wrong, she can be a great big hairy bitch; coming from one, I figure that's why we get along like soul mates. We're kindred spirits!

Bonded by my skill for bribery using food (and because we've spent so much time together in the last six months) not only do I feel she can read my mood, I believe she has a full understanding of my scheduled caloric intake for the week. I'm not kidding. When she sees an extra piece of toast getting prepared, with both the peanut butter and jam on the counter, she know she's hit the motherload!!

Happy 2nd Anniversary Pud. I promise to never EVER serve you marmalade.

You can thank me later!

What A Difference 8030 Days Makes!

Where were you 8030 days ago? Do you remember? I do. Almost like it was yesterday.

Not to confuse - this photo was taken 8027 days ago.
...We were heading home from the hospital.
TAKEN: June 8th, 1992

Why? At the end of a lot of hard work, I shotgun dropped fifty pounds in two minutes and  without the use of cosmetic surgery!

Also included in my plethora of prizes that day, were some really great drugs and two almost 7lb bundles of joy.

With it being 8030 days later, I'll finally verbalize the truly harsh realities: the drugs wore off way too fecking quick and thems bundles is all growed up!

Around day 1095 this week officially kicked it up a notch. It became to most celebrated week of our entire year;  the fifth was their day, the ninth my Dad’s day, and the eleventh the day we got married. A lifetime of tradition which has officially ended on this 8030th day.

My daughter still got cranked this year (but she generally gets excited when Friday rolls around every week). It’s just who she is. Kinda like an eternal ray of sunshine. Her twin tends to be a little more nonchalant about the lack of fanfare like me. I don't want him to become pessimistic about the occasion but the hard reality's that he had to haul his ass into work. Guess his expectation of a really great water balloon fight was probably nonexistent.

It was a chilly day outside. I made and ate an early dinner. With my son at work and my daughter heading to dinner with friends, it's the very first time (8030 days later) that the house was quiet. Actually, that's not entirely true. The dogs were excited when I announced that it was the twins birthday this morning but I know for a fact their excitement was directly tied to the fact that I had bread in toaster and they were hoping I'd slap on a little extra peanut butter for them if they'd perform.

All joking aside ... Happy Birthday Sweetie & Goob. I love you both very much.

I can't wait for cake & everyone being together on Sunday!!

HA! I Tricked YA!!

I met a long-time colleague for lunch today. Both busy, our timing was kind of loosey goosey, so I tried to head out early to get a specific errand run prior. Short story long, I ended up at the Post Office, in a line up, with a not so nice lady serving the wicket.

I could have waited in line, but I knew that the wicked wicket lady was the one I would have to speak with. Sensing that she was having a bad day (and knowing I was not) I instantly decided to go for lunch and tackle my change of address challenge on a full belly.

Two hours later, how did I know it was my lucky day? When I returned, there she was, waiting. With that same scowl on her face, not to mention the f*ck you vibe in her brow. Didn't matter, I was ready for her. 

My initial assessment of her tone and approach - once in front of her - told me the ante would be at least ten pounds of flesh and my first born before she'd ever hear my plight. Hey, don't get me wrong, I’d gladly have given her twenty pounds (with a pro-rated discount on the next ten) but the first born angle was three kids and two dogs too late. Suffice is to say, a simple smile was all I had to offer.

By the time I had gone through the entire process I discovered that she was a Grandma, didn't live here, had a great sense of humour, and was really very nice. 

As I thanked her one last time, she enthusiastically reminded me to come back and see her personally if my new key didn't work. She also warned me to 'guard it with my life' because 'a silly replacement' came at the hefty price of $32 each. 

As I bid farewell I made a point of telling her that she did a great job. Everyone in line heard me, and when I turned around to leave, they all made an effort to make eye contact with me and were smiling.

The moral of my post? 

A smile is instant happiness you’ll always find right under your nose. It is more naturally reciprocated than a handshake... and just might make someones day when they least expect it.

That is all.

Downtown In My Little Town...

She may be small... But like ME she's mighty!
TAKEN: Saturday May 24th, 2014

As you know, I live in what some would consider to be a sleepy little town. It’s strategically located somewhere between ‘almost there’ and ‘just passing through’.

Don’t get me wrong, my first name isn't Belle, and the ornate objects in my home don’t unexpectedly burst into song, it's just that where I live epitomizes a quaint Canadian town.

Now that you have that mental image, think of your Aunt Bertha and her last really bad gout flare up.

When the surrounding Lakes here open up, our population easily triples. Just like Bert's gout filled big toe, it can be painful to experience!

Though I've lived here almost my entire life, it's been years since I've observed the influx of seasonal residents when it's occurred. Specifically, because I've always tried to avoided it. Now that I'm back to spending 90% of my awake time in my home office, I find myself downtown every chance I get. I'd forgotten how clean, pretty, and very welcoming it really was.

What's my point? There's a social media page out there looking for suggestions on how to make our Town GREAT again. Not gonna lie, I'm finding it painful to watch things unfold. Though there's a solid core group of people with excellent intentions... Others, not so much. I will admit that I read the posts yet never comment.

Eventually, my hope is that I’ll gently remind those standing in judgement, that just like our seasonal weather, there’s an ebb and flow to owning a seasonal business here. Challenges that only those that have tried and endured truly understand. 

It was with them in mind that I popped in and out of stores up and down the main street this past Saturday. As I enjoyed the downtown of my little town, I could hear a very clear voice in my head saying over and over “...come to me with a solution, not a problem!"

Like any great strategist, I had to analyze and assess. I think it was Betty. Yet, I can’t be sure.

As you may or may not know, Betty's always been one of most reasonable of the fifteen voices that party inside my head. Guess I must have her set on 'default'.

Smile away Peeps & Happy Hump Day!

Not A Black Fly Was Stirring....

I don’t believe that I've ever taken a leap of faith using spontaneity as the catapult and NOT had a great time. Today proved that I'm still batting 1000. 

Last week... I received a kind of haphazard, off the cuff, invitation to take a day trip into Algonquin Park. My immediate thought was that it was black fly season, followed by the fact that I really had no desire to spend a day swatting them pesky buggers. Then, the persistent tone of the offer made me understand that the suggestion was being made in an effort for us to spend time together; something, neither of us have really had the ability to offer the other, since well before Easter. 

Still in my jammies when my phone rang at 7:45 am this morning I didn't answer it. I get a million calls from unknown numbers, and in my half a sleep daze, I had forgotten the day trip offer I had received the week before. Three quick calls in a row I knew that it had to be one of three people looking for me. 

I quickly explained that I was busy feeling sorry for myself but thankfully they would hear nothing of it. “I’ll be there in half an hour... BE READY” was the extent of the sympathy extended. I got my ass in gear in time for them to pick me up. They had my coffee waiting and a plan for our day. I was impressed!

It’s been years since I've been a day visitor to Algonquin Park. My Dad use to take me, but chatting today I realized it’s been at least thirty years since my last day trip. Sad really, considering that this haven is literally a little over an hour’s drive away.

Sitting here, I can't stop smiling. You’d think that being 40 feet away from a feeding Moose would be my adventure highlight, or perhaps the fact that the black-flies aren't out yet. Neither!

It’s that I traveled a little over 250 kilometers today and never once did I feel the need to entertain the person I was with. 

…Because being together is all that truly mattered to the both of us. 

It's been 30 years since my last adventure in this neck of the woods...
Taken: May 21st, 2014

If I Had A DIME...!

Chatting via email this morning (with my very fave Business colleague) made my day ten times brighter than Mother Nature’s generous post long weekend UV offering. I don’t know about you, but I love laughing via email. As silly as it sounds, I can hear the other person’s voice speaking to me as I read, just as I’m certain they can hear my laughter in return.

As I was playfully multi-tasking my phone rang. In the instant that I read the call display, I said their name aloud. Another former client; one, that most definitely is etched on my short list of all-time favourites.

Oh, I remember it well. It was the week leading up to Easter in 2013. He was starting a ‘small’ renovation and wanted to meet with me face to face so that he could better understand his options. I agreed, only to have him lose my number. Boy, if I had a dime for every time a man claimed they'd lost my number...  I’d be retired and definitely be living large by now!

Chuckles aside and long story short: he and I never met that day. AND... his small renovation, ended up being not so small. As his project progressed, we talked on the phone (sometimes daily) for months until his contractor pulled the boats out of the water for the season in November.

Working the 2013 Fall Cottage Life Show, I heard a very familiar voice announce “I just wanted to say hello..”

Without hesitation I turn and yelled his name and hugged him. Today, I heard his voice again. It'll be weird not dealing with him and his contractor this summer but he sent me something to remember him by. The view from his dock I helped to enhance.... So to speak.

Thanks for the call Dr. C.

Now that you're a reader, we'll always effortlessly keep in touch.

ALL PHOTO RIGHTS RESERVED. 

My Unexpected Record Scratch Moment

I've always found the sound of a needle being dragged across a vinyl record to be one of the most effective sound effects ever. No matter what is happening around you, when you hear that very distinct sound, it’s like time stops.

Errrrrrrrr….. Imagine hearing that sound for a solid three seconds, combined with me shaking my head back and forth quickly in disbelief, for at least the same amount of time. THAT, is what I consider a ‘personal record scratch moment’. I had my very first in years last weekend.

Here's EXACTLY what a personal record scratch moment looks like!
(...Except I wasn't smiling.)
Taken: DECEMBER 2008

I was standing in my kitchen and words were spoken. Words I never thought I’d ever hear again. 

It was like I was immediately jolted to another day and time. It was so long ago that there were covered wagons in the street and my pretty petticoat was covered to up to my knees in mud. 

Seriously, I mean (as an example) why couldn't this defining personal moment whisk me away to a one of those really sexy and erotic times I've dreamt of? You know, the type they always play out for women in the movies?  I'm totally fecking due!

Instead, good ole practical and romantically delusional me, gets transported back to a time of harsh reality. Not gonna lie, I'd take any When Harry Met Sally moment over bamboo shoots underneath my toenails any day!

What have I done about it? Picked myself up and dusted myself off. 

Glass half full?

Maybe my moment didn't have me pass go: Lord knows I didn't collect $100. But... It most certainly DID NOT have me land on Boardwalk, with a hotel on it, and no money in the Bank.

HA! 

Take THAT glass half empty!!!

My Mom....

Happy Mother's Day Mummy.... I miss you very much.
Taken: July 1947

This is my Mom. 

If you haven’t met her via a previous post, allow me to introduce you to my mother Inez.

She was 17 years old when this photo was taken and the only one I own that was taken before she was married.

Though I have very few pictures of her, that doesn't mean that all of my  life long memories aren't vivid, colourful, and still very much alive.

She was a fighter.

She won most every battle she set her mind to, but sadly, she eventually lost the war. She passed in 1987 of ALS (more commonly known to the masses as Lou Gehrig's Disease).

Any sadness in my reflection aside, I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge that today is OUR day. The one & only that is dedicated especially to the both of us for a job well done.

Happy Mother's Day Mummy...

I love and miss you very much.

'WELL THERE IT IS. A LIFE'...

This afternoon I logged onto my Facebook to find this amazing homage, posted by my very favourite Comedian, on his personal Facebook page. It moved me so much that I wanted to share. I immediately asked his permission and Ron enthusiastically said YES. 

Rest In Peace Farley.... Very well said Ron!

Ron James with his dear friends Farley & Claire Mowat.
This photo is personal property of RON JAMES.
All rights reserved.

I don't make a habit of posting the ubiquitous photo of me with my arm around celebrities mugging for a 'selfie' but when that 'celebrity' (and the term seems so tawdry and trite given his status in 'Letters') was one of Canada's literary lions, who recently passed into the 'Big Mystery', I make an exception. 

Farley Mowat and his wife Claire were my friends, who kindly invited me to lunch at their home in Port Hope while on tour several years ago. Look at them in this photo! Beaming! Lovers until the end! They were SO cool!! Authentic. How could you not be, given the world they were born to and the adventure they lived together?! Snug in their cozy cottage, packed with totems of a life fully realized, they shuffled from room to room referring to each other as 'Mr. and Mrs. Mole'. The cantankerous rebel who did not suffer fools was hostage to his woman's twinkling eyes and she to his. 

Over lunch they spoke of their travels to the far points of frontier, like the Orkney Islands of northern Scotland! You won't find that destination on a Carnival Cruise Line itinerary! They told me how they'd walked beaches there looking at spear points, awls and primal scraping tools from the last Ice Age. No shuffleboard on the 'Fiesta Deck' and buffet for this pair of octogenarians! They were engaged in the wider world of wonders. Curious. Searching. Exploring. As betrothed to each other as the planet they loved.

I sat at the foot of this sage all afternoon enthralled. Nursing my second shot of London Dock none-the-less that he poured us...before noon! I remember thinking, 'This is what it would be like if Yoda drank!!’ His World War 2 Major's hat on the wall…caricatures from earlier days when his beard was full and shoulders broad…photos of he and Claire sailing...he and his Labrador retrievers…bawdy jokes in the bathroom…myriad awards…on a late model television set sat a dory Paul Watson hand carved for him in prison…original leather bound editions of Franklin's expeditions! And then his books. They sat high on a shelf in the living room. 48 of them! 48!! And it struck me: 'Dear God Farley', I said, 'the titles aren't in English!' They were in every language but Romulan! 'Never Cry Wolf' in Arabic…'And No Birds Sang' in German…'A Whale for the Killing' in Spanish...The Dog Who Wouldn't Be' in Chinese…'Lost In the Barrens' in Dutch...Siberia', in some tongue you'd be speaking while you milked a yak in Irkutsk! 

Farley looks at me with a humble sigh and says, 'Well, there it is. A life'. 

And his life inspired. Sitting in a dreary classroom at Chebucto Road School in Grade 7, reading 'Two Against the North' and 'The Viking's Grave', sired a desire to commune with the power of Canada's holy lands beyond the tree line. I actualized that childhood dream ten years ago and kayaked Arctic Finger Lakes in the Barren lands, three hours north of Yellowknife. The world Farley's words had painted in a kid's imagination still shone bright in memory. I joined a Dene elder from Fort Resolution who’d come to hunt caribou for a pot luck supper in Fort Resolution. Cresting a hill in the chill of dawn, I saw a raven flying low to the land and remembered Farley's words in 'Never Cry Wolf', that when you see a raven, wolves aren't far behind. Sure enough, there they stood, Javex white and splendid proud in morning's magic hour. 'Farley was right', I thought! 'Wolves and ravens are buddies in the hunt!' And to think the disparaging moniker of 'Hardly-Know-It' was applied to him. Only in Canada could the ivory towered dilettantes and philistines he held in such justifiable contempt turn so viscously on their own. I beg to differ with their slander readers. I saw those wolves as well as many other things, because Farley Mowat taught me how to look for them in this world, thanks to his books.

'Well there it is. A life' 

And what a life it was Farley. What a life. Thanks for sharing it with us. ~ RON JAMES

(c) Ron James. All rights reserved.

It's An Executive Decision…

Going through some legal and financial papers this afternoon, I realized that it’ll be two years this upcoming May 2-4 long weekend, that I moved to the cottage (and lived there) for the entire summer. Where the hell has the time gone?

Personally, I know that in that time I've worked my fecking ass off.  Matter a fact, there are patches of time in the above mentioned lapse, that I barely remember what I did with my spare time. Most likely because I know I rarely had any.

That said, this summer will be different. As an independent contractor, I'm not expected to deal with the day to day drama of disgruntled customers. It’s been an adjustment but truthfully one of the reasons I left my old job. Turns out, in my search for a solid challenge & truly happy customers... I hit the mother load !

My new home office view.
My old buddy Don gave me this flower last summer
... Proud to say he was the BEST co-worker EVER!
Taken: August 8th, 2013

Happy happy happy, I have decided to once again move back to the cottage for the summer. Truth is, it's been in the back of my mind since the very minute I changed jobs.

It seems like such a waste for me to sit in my downstairs office, when I can be working in the sun where my pups are happy, and my domestic skills are sharp. 

Believe it or not, the one things I've been struggling with is the installation of high speed internet. Today I made the executive decision to ignore those silly little voices and just get it installed.

With so many other stresses removed from my life, installing the internet is just going to make me that much more efficient. For instance, I know I will be able to handle a far bigger workload if I'm smiling AND have great tan. KIDDING!

The fact of the matter is that with over 300 DVD's in inventory, I can stop buying them out of the bargain bin and just use Netflix’s. That right there justifies all of this as a solid money management decision. 

Keeping this cat out of the WalMart video section?

Just paid for the installation of the Primus dry loop!

GIDDY UP.....

Pssst… Ya Got Any Rubbers?

I woke up at 4am this morn and hauled my ass out of bed for what turned out to be the rest of the day. Not because I’d had enough sleep, but because my hot flashes seem to have embedded themselves into a pattern of complete and total inconvenience. 

Anyway, it was no surprise, that by mid afternoon I was a great big bitchy zombie that was ready for a nap. Exhausted, I fought back. I got up from my desk, pulled on my rubbers, and headed straight for the gully.

Up to my ankles in gunk & loving it!
Taken: May 5th, 2014

For a million reasons, the silly ravine (just off the back of my yard) takes me back to my childhood. Not that I've ever lived with the luxury of such a haven in my backyard growing up, I just feel like a little kid whenever I venture out.

Where else can a single stick, some running water, and ankle deep mud deliver such an escape? ...Not to mention that it kinda sounds like a Super-dee-Duper fart machine as you tromp around in the sloppy gunk.

I know, I know, my girlfriend told me she suspects my enjoyment in the mud has something to do with some sort of rebellion. She says I'm "perpetuating a behaviour that wasn't deemed acceptable when I was child."

Who knows? Who cares! 

...I've simply labelled it a guilty pleasure.

I understand that some may not deem my behaviour proper. BUT... If you consider my playing in a ravine full of mud, in a pair of bright hot pink rubbers immature... I don't want to share what I'll be doing during the first midday summer downpour on my dock.

I fear THAT guilty pleasure (which I've labelled #482) may throw you over the edge!

She may look nice and dry... But I can assure ya she ain't!
Taken: May 5th, 2014

Z IS FOR ZOOOOOOM……

Just like that, the month of April is gone.

Having paid homage to the twenty six letters of the alphabet in thirty days, my annual A-Z Blogging Challenge is officially complete. As expected, I am completely exhausted.

That said, what a difference a year makes. I really struggled to finish last year. Had a big plan (including a spreadsheet, with multiple options for inspiration) that turned out to be complete and total crap. I totally focused on the goal of finishing, rather than enjoying the experience. I am not proud to admit, in search of the perfect post last year, my competitive nature produced tears.

This year, there were no tears. I didn't give a single letter the time of day until I woke up and my feet hit the floor. The bigger personal challenge, was trying to meld my chosen photo, to the letter of the day… & vice-versa. Today, I had a word, but no photo. So, before I began to write, with an appreciation for how quickly the month blew by, I asked myself, “…what was I doing exactly one year ago today?”

The Girlz making the best of seasonably
COLD North Myrtle Beach weather.
Taken: April 30th, 2013

Turns out that I was spending the day on the ocean with my three favourite girls. 

I looked at the photo's from that day and they were both amazing and memorable.

Oh, how the four of us ZOOOOM'd that day. 

Dogs after a Frisbee, my daughter and I after a couple of off leash bat shit crazy dogs... And me, back to my laptop to finish my final post of the challenge.

Thanks again for reading. It really does mean a lot to me and it truly is appreciated.

~Rhondi

Y IS FOR YUCK!

Today's effort is brought to you by the letter Y and the number 4!

My afternoon view from my home office window. Holy crap load of rain BATMAN!
Taken: April 29th, 2014

What a day. I diligently spent the majority of it on the phone.  Sitting at my desk, the sound of the torrential rain, was louder that the radio playing in the background at times. The trees were bending to-and-fro and I couldn't help but watch the dreary day slowly pass.

Dark and gray outside, I pouted about how badly I needed it to be bright and sunny. At least in the dead of winter, I got the benefit of the blanket of white, as the bright sun reflected upon it. Today was just one of those days that I wanted to take a spoon to my wrist.

You know deal? It's the only option I'll entertain. Just good cutlery rationale!

Never use a knife because it will cut, a fork with puncture and pierce, but a spoon gets rid of the pent up frustration looming inside. Best practice is to press the spoon to your wrist, then head upstairs and have a great big bowl of ice cream with it. If it's a really bad day, I suggest you go with a tablespoon rather than a teaspoon. Simply because it mathematically holds more ice cream!!

It’s my 25^th letter and my second last post. I truly wish I was sharing YIPPPEEEE.

Instead... YUCK will have to do!

X IS FOR XOXO’s

In this world we have created, that has a focus on what's written rather than what's spoken, X’s and O’s have to be what I look forward to receiving most. You may think it silly, but when there's distance between you and someone you love, there’s nothing better than a text message ending with a bunch of those silly little letters in a row.

Santa's Village -  Labour Day Monday (Photo Credit: Auntie Andrea G)
Taken: September 6th, 1993

Case in point, my daughter moved home last weekend. 

Well, not home per say, but back to our hometown, where her parents can pick her up for grocery shopping and return her to the comfort of her very own rented space.

Organizing the big move was a tad challenging, as it was done at odd hours and primarily using instant messaging. It was an  emotionally trying time all around and it was tough to let her know that there was no anger toward her in any frustration we may have been feeling. Let's just say that both our thumbs got really quick texting each other in the ‘xoxoxoxo’ lane.

It's hard to explain...

I don’t care if I’m in my office and I get a message from GOOB (who's upstairs in his bedroom) ending in a great big XO, or a quick Facebook message from Jukebox, (after sharing a bottle of red wine and some amazing music) reporting he’s made it home safe & sound.  Admittedly, instant messaging may not always be ideal, but it's an important part of how we communicate as a family.

My husband? Though he does text, he's not a big technology kinda guy. Instead, he kisses me every single day... and his hugs? Amazing! 

I am pleased to report that with those... He's got me on his unlimited plan!!!

W IS FOR WHO

V IS FOR VAMOOSE!

You heard me.... VAMOOSE!

What are you waiting for? Good riddance... Scoot, scram, zip and get the hell outta town!!

Friends... Meet my buddy John.
Taken: SPRING THAW 2008
(The above photo is property of North45 Communications)

CLICK HERE TO SEE JW's VIDEO OF THE 2014 ICE GOING OUT

Just so we’re clear, I'm not talking about my good buddy Johnny (JW) Wright: on the contrary. 

My bellowing is for the ice on the lakes to get the heck going, so that winter can officially be deemed over.

We all may be a little stir crazy here but JW has taken a different approach to the lunacy. He's made an effort to document the winter from hell from a positive perspective. You see, he's one of the lucky ones. He both lives & works here.

I've had the pleasure of dealing with JW professionally for about a decade and I consider him a personal friend. Out of sheer selfishness, I've been after this lad to start a video blog for what seems like forever. I may be what is considered a social media junkie but I never click on a link for the sake of clicking. My time is very valuable and online I use it wisely. Never once, have I not truly enjoyed what John's had to say and/or share.

If he were smart, we'd tag team and get him a segment deal on Cottage Life Television. Uh-Oh... I just heard his beautiful wife Pam drop a dinner plate on their kitchen floor.

What can I say Pam? We both know talent when we see it!

U IS FOR UNIQUE

That's  a buffalo behind me... NOT a horse's ass.
TAKEN P.A. SASKATCHEWAN:  JULY 1971

Simple question: what makes someone unique? 

Do you label the one person wearing red, when everyone else is wearing blue, unique? 

Have you given them such a label because of how they made you feel? Or, is it simply because you'd heard a friend of a friend call them that and you’re conforming? 

Seriously, I'm curious.

From a very young age I knew that I was different than others my age. I understood then, that my life at home was much more unique than most, so I guess I've always compartmentalized why my personality evolved the way it did.

I truly believed (at that time) that it was because my parents were so much older than I. Yet, all these years later, I believe that I am simply me, because I was born with a creative soul.

What can I say? Feel free to rib, label, roll your eyes and look at me anyway you see fit.

Because... Damn it... I AM UNIQUE....

Just like every other interesting person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting!

CHEERS :)

T IS FOR TREAT

I’m not talking about my personal 12 Step Chocolate Program (the one where I'm never less than twelve steps away from a chocolate treat) I am taking about how spoiled my dogs are. Right or wrong, I've always given our four legged furry children people food treats.

Growing up, I had the pleasure of watching my Auntie Cai and her pack of pups. They literally shadowed her every movement 99% of the the time. As a tween, I use to stand in her kitchen at Camp, watching her strategically prepare their meals. It was definitely a site to behold.

I GOTTA TELL YA...
These girls know how to exercise restraint much better than MOI...!
TAKEN: MARCH 9th, 2013

Just as she did, I now do the very same thing.

Most teach their dogs to fetch and sit, I've taught mine the specific meals of the day, not to mention the name of all the treats that need to be refrigerated!

The human rule sets precedence here right?

You know the one, that anything in moderation makes any guilty pleasure acceptable? WHEW... Miss Vickie's just about lost a loyal a sea salt & vinegar customer!

Joking aside, no matter what stage of your life you're in, there will always be people that disagree with whatever personal choices you make. Truth is, you can't please all of the people all of the time. Which is the complete opposite to the fact that I've never met a single pup that didn't love one of the many treats I was dishing out.

Hmmm... Maybe I should start a human 12 Step Chocolate Treat Program. Don't laugh, it totally worked for Sheldon (with Penny) on Big Bang Theory.

OMG... Now I'm such a 'Poser'...!

Go ahead. Google both the episode and the funky italicized word ... I know you want to. :)

S IS FOR SOULMATE

I’m not a person that is easily shocked or surprised. I guess that's why this moment had such impact.

I hadn't heard from my closest confident in a few, so I fired them off an email to simply check in. I quickly got a reply. It didn't have a subject title, so I instantly knew that something was wrong. I opened it and read the news in disbelief.

After almost twenty five year of marriage (with two grown daughters, in the final stages of University) my soulmate announced that they were separating from their spouse. Apparently, one wanted things the other didn't and it seems that neither wanted to continue working in the same direction. I was shocked.

Worried, I automatically picked up the phone. I listened, yet offered no opinion; after all, this was ultimately their journey, not mine. Listening to the explanation of their situation truly broke my heart. I do feel compelled to share that this is the very same friend that listened endlessly to my woes, telling me that ‘communication's key’ and that ‘talking about what the issues are will get you through anything!’ 

I don’t believe we have any idea who will (or will not) impact our lives until it has happened. Right or wrong, I believe that we marry our true life partner and differing souls flow in an out of our lives as well. Zack is most definitely a soul mate. I will unconditionally support him on his journey, as he supported me on mine.

That doesn't mean that I couldn't slap the living crap right out of him for not taking his own advice but I love him just the same. Men: they can be so gosh dang stubborn sometimes.

UH-OH... POT... KETTLE... BLACK!!

R IS FOR REUNION

For the first time in more than three years, we hit the road (as a family) for a day trip this past weekend. I don’t know about you, but getting the exclusive time of five full time working adults coordinated, can be a real pain in the ass. We were going, we weren't… We were going, we weren't. Ay Carumba!

With everything finally aligned by mid-morning yesterday, I was excited. We were all going to have some serious family face time...and not the kind you receive courtesy of your iPhone.  

L'il ole me capturing a moment... While my husband captures ours.
TAKEN: APRIL 20th, 2014

You’ll be proud to know that even though I brought the camera into the restaurant where we had lunch, I held my extreme picture taking urges at bay.

A couple of hours in, with beautiful Lake Simcoe as our backdrop, I began to snap away like a drug addict in need of a hit.

The tricky part for me's that I never usually take just one picture with one camera. As I worked through the stash in my purse, I realized that my kids have become conditioned to my affliction. 

I just can't seem to help myself!

Being the last of four children with older parents, my mother passed and there was little evidence of my childhood. (The biggest item missing, was a family photo.) I'm not suggesting that my children live in the past... but I would like them to have the ability to reminisce together once we're gone. 

Besides, yesterday was an official reunion right?

Who the hell am I kidding... my kids could be embroiled in a full out round of fisticuffs and I'd still want to take their picture. Because in my books,  'remember the time when...?' 

Is always a PERFECT Sunday Supper conversation starter!

My final effort.... Aren't they all just absolutely amazing!!!
TAKEN: APRIL 20th, 2014

Q IS FOR QUESTION

Q: WHY IS COMMON SENSE NOT SO COMMON?

A:

P IS FOR PEDAL BOAT

Closing up the Cottage... as well as a Chapter
TAKEN: NOVEMBER 2012

In the summer of 2005, I was leading the Marketing efforts for a large land development on the Lake of Bays. 

As the bulldozers began to tear down the old resort, I asked if I could buy one of the 5-Seat Pedal boats they were anxious to get rid of. The entire lot were already well worn, yet I still made my difficult choice.

Though a real beauty in my eyes, my girl was anything but attractive. She’d been tattooed with silly goofy stickers all over her ass end but I didn’t care. She needed a home and her asking price was right. I don’t know about you, but for me, FREE, made us a perfect long term match!

From the get go she never steered very well (which I suspect was her eyesight) and her innards made a terrible grinding noise as she moved forward (which I have to think may have been an intolerance to algae). Without a single complaint, she provided tons of hours and summers of fun!

As the kids moved on, the pups and I took her over. When I lived at the cottage the summer of 2012, I exercised her every single day. Sometimes at dawn, sometimes to catch the high noon sun, but mostly to watch the sunset. She experienced my tears, my anger, my laughter, not to mention some of my really terrible singing!

How crazy is it that I'll admit that the only two that really know how I survived my midlife crisis is my computer keyboard and this amazing pedal boat?

I may have to sneak Christian Grey in there as a close third... But that's another post!

Thanks for the memories GIRLFRIEND!!

TAKEN: 2005 - 2013

O IS FOR OBJECTIVITY

I believe as people age and accumulate more life experiences, their true sense of who they are and what they want tightens. At the risk of sounding corny, I feel every life experience, no matter how small, becomes a part of who we are. Which is why, it takes a combination of both time and experience, to become objective and develop a compass for perspective.

Professionally, objectivity has never been an issue for me. I’ll lobby for my beliefs, but at the end of the day, it’s the person that I am reporting too that signs my paycheck. So, being objective has always been, pretty much a no brainer. Unless of course, it effected my personal well being.

The opposite side, to the ease of that slope, is how I have to dig deep to find that same fairness toward a situation, when it comes to my husband, my children, my dogs (hell, any/all dogs) or our home. I’m sure it has something to do with the need to nurture and protect but that's not my point.

Their bond is so very strong and powerful. It's amazing to witness.
TAKEN: AUGUST 2007 

My daughter is going through one of the toughest challenges that she’s faced in her life to date. 

As a family, we've all unconditionally rallied to her support, but that still doesn't change the shitty situation at hand. Which is, it involves a person... that we all want to shake the living snot right out of! 

Verrrry... Slowly... Enters ...OBJECTIVITY. 

I’m proud that it’s me that has taken the lead on this one. I've never been this calm, which tells me I'm still evolving. My husband and she are so fiercely close, that some days I feel that he is taking this as hard as she is. Her brothers, the same. Each have a different resolution in mind, but none will help our daughter heal any quicker. Which goes back to my opening ramble.

It’s been my personal experience that one can only gain objectivity from a series of life changing events. The sad part is, the ones we learn the most from?

…Friggin’ SUCK experiencing!

N IS FOR NAUGHTY

How do you know your wife is dead? The sex is the same… but the dishes start to pile up!

All I can say is, it’s a good thing I have my dishwasher on a timer. My husband does them at the same time every night, so he won’t notice I’m gone for months! ….Ba-Dumb-Bum!

Seriously? I love to laugh and there's usually naughty sarcasm attached just for fun.

There's a small handful of people I've met that can keep up with my warped pace. So, it's not very often I'm caught off guard. Truth is, my husband has always been my best sparring partner.

A while back he landed home in good spirits and decided to make an announcement... “Honey… Guess what I want tonight?”

Preoccupied, I rolled my eyes and asked ..."What?”

“I want some BUSCH...!" 

In that exact moment, he held up a six pack of American beer over his head and we both roared with laughter. Just like that, I was instantly pummeled into naughty thought submission. What can I say, there really is nothing better than laughter, to ease my mind...

Well, there is,  but I never registered for adult content, so we'll just leave it at that!

M IS FOR MENOPAUSE

I read somewhere that the first sign of menopause is a broken thermostat. 

Could that be why my hydro bills are through the roof? Just my luck, not only are they over billing me for my hydro, the jerks have placed a delivery charge on my hot flashes… DAFT PRICKS!

Over and over, since I began writing this silly blog, I have conceded that nothing could have ever prepared me for midlife. 

As I struggled to pick my M word, I discovered that there are a lot of life changing words for women starting with the letter M (and they are kind of chronological).

Words like menstruation, marriage, motherhood, midlife and menopause, all fall in cycle, surrounded by another M word... MEN.

Which leads us to the most famous ‘Mmm-Mmm’ reason why 99% of all women my age buy copious amounts of high test Duracell battery stock…. 

MONEY MANAGEMENT!

What the hell were you thinking?

L IS FOR LIFE LESSONS

I honestly believe that if I threw my life problems into a heap with everyone else’s that I’d quickly scramble to get mine back. Not because I wouldn't have preferred to get rid of the entire lot of hooey… but because surrounded by the mound of everyone else's problems, mine would seem pretty insignificant.

The point of my story? Life lessons are labelled exactly that because they are LESSONS. You either learn from them, or you don’t.

What may seem like a boulder in front of you (stopping you from moving forward) may really only be a simple pebble in your shoe. Draw on the lessons you've learned. Use those lessons to help you push through every single dilemma and keep moving forward.

That last bit of advice is based on personal experience. Though it may seem simple, Life Lessons are very tricky. Some offer relief, as if you've only scraped your knees. Some feel as though they've truly broken your heart and spirit; while others, bring and offer wonderful opportunity. 

I'm a simple gal, that was lucky to marry a man that makes me laugh. As a result, I greet each new day, with the hope that it teaches me another life lesson and today did exactly that.

LIFE LESSON 957: ALWAYS... BACK UP YOUR HARD DRIVE (which I had).

Then, my husband stopped home about 11am because he'd worn odd shoes to work. Sad part? One was a boot!

Life Lesson Averted... Laughter Inserted!!!

Ya Gotta Laugh About It...

K IS FOR KIDDIES

Twenty five years ago next month, I was told by our family physician that the rabbit had died and we were to expect a delivery from the stork the following February. I’ll admit that the pregnancy wasn't planned and unexpectedly becoming a first time mother, was the largest learning curve I ever recall enduring.

Then, a little over two years later, two more seven-pounders arrived, just about two minutes apart. Their names had been chosen prior but once we officially met them, we had to go back to the bazillion baby names we’d already discounted.

I remember those first few days fondly. I remember the look on Jamie’s face the first time they met and how he confidently turned down the hospital bedding saying…“Let’s go Mommy… It’s time to go home!”

Hopping the bus to MMO for their first day of school.
TAKEN: SEPTEMBER 3rd, 2002

As I look at my photo of their first day of school in 2002, I can't help but wonder (yet again) where the time has gone.

Right or wrong, we always ran a very tight ship. So, it's only natural that I'd struggle with being downsized. No handbook prepares you for midlife... NONE!

If I'm being honest with myself, I'd have to admit that it's our current transition that has been the most comforting. 

We've all moved onto the next phase of our lives, which in itself, is another exciting time. As a parent, I find it comforting that though they may have officially closed their ears to our advice, they have officially opened their eyes to our example. 

Every single tool we have, we have given.

So, something tells me, if they follow that compass...They'll all be just fine!

J IS FOR JAMAICA

For the second day in a row, I got to eat my lunch out in the sun. Hell, the UV rays were so spot on, that at high noon, when I opened our front door and sat on the sill, the aluminum was heated enough that my butt got very roasty n' toasty. 

I kid you not… I truly had one hot piece of ass at lunch today!

In keeping with that thought process, I find it hard to believe that we returned from Jamaica a little over a month ago. It feels like it's been a little over a year. Yet, instead of complaining, I’ll just count my blessings. I’m pretty sure I would have jumped off the bridge downtown by now had I not gotten on a plane this past winter.

Ah.... the memories. Jamaica is always a great idea!
SELFIE TAKEN: MARCH 1st, 2014

As I start to fill up my empty piggy bank for February 2015, Jamaica is on my mind.

I know it’s more expensive than a lot of other destinations in the Caribbean but once you arrive it truly is amazing.

We were there in 2012 and again this past winter and from the time we climbed into bed that very first night, we talked about returning a third time.

I love their culture and that the country (in general) love Canadians. There's no language barrier and for a very picky eater there's lots of flavours I truly enjoy. But, the one thing I love most about Jamaica is their attention to safe drinking water. The bottled water you drink comes from a Jamaican filtration plant and you can drink the water right out of the tap with confidence.

Seeing as I won't have a moments peace until our 2015 jaunt (out of the harsh Canadian winter) is booked, I have to ask. What's best winter holiday you've ever taken? 

I promise I'll report back. Because together, we'll leave no great Expedia deal unturned!!

YEEE-HAAAAAA!!!!!!!!

I IS FOR IDEA

IDEA?
There really is no such thing as a bad one.

What is the IMPACT of a great IDEA being executed?
... Sheer INSPIRATION!

H IS FOR HANDSOME

Over the years, because of the industries I've worked in, I've worked alongside far more men than women. I've worked with the odd Herb Tarlek, a ton of Les Nessmans' and only one Johnny Fever. Oh, there’s been the whole bunch of ‘God’s gift to Women’ men, which I willingly admit are the absolute worst.

I remember one such idiot about fifteen years ago. He always made a point of sitting next to me. Then, in this particular Board meeting, he made his move. Without warning, he took a deep breath and whispered into my ear “you smell amazing.” To which I quickly locked my eyes with his, approached his personal space bubble and whispered into his ear… “I don’t do charity work.” Mission accomplished: he never bothered me again!

I guess my point is that someone that's typically defined as good looking by society, doesn't automatically make them handsome in my books. A truly handsome man is the complete package. Not only in how they treat women (both socially and professionally) but that how they outwardly appear, only scratches the surface of what’s on the inside.

I am so blessed to have some truly handsome men in my life. My husband, my boys, (Michael, Timmy, Zack) are all at the top on the top of my heap. However, the most handsome man to ever enter my life, left before his time, in 2005. 

My Dad & I soaking up the sun.
TAKEN: SPRING 1967

Athletic by nature, he was fiercely intelligent;  he had charisma and a great sense of humour, as well as a very true love of people. 

He was caring, giving, with a heart so big I am surprised it didn't burst from sheer goodness before it stopped beating on its own.

My late father Herve was the most handsome man I’ve ever met and suspect I ever will.

He WAS the complete package. Not only was he handsome, he was my friend.

...and I miss him every single day.

G IS FOR GOOD n’ GRAY

The Ole Gray Mare, she ain't what she use to be...
OR so you may think!
TAKEN: April 2014

When I started preparing the sauce for dinner this evening, my son walked into the kitchen and said, “Whoa there Mama… You really need to dye your hair!” 

Not wanting to suppress his extremely keen sense of observation (forever embracing the fact that we are cleverly disguised as a normal family) I smiled and reinforced the obvious.

“No shit, Sherlock!” was all I said.

My hair started to go gray shortly after I gave birth to the twins over twenty years ago. It started with the odd lone white curly cue sprig, that would pop up on the crown of my head. Then, before long, it became readily noticeable that I was in need of colourful help.

For the last year or so, I've debated what to do. I'm almost embarrassed to admit that the stress of the last few years has thinned my locks but that doesn't mean I want to throw in the towel and shave my head.

Some advise me to just let it go white and embrace its magnificent hue and my curls; guess I'm just not sure if I'm ready for that. I do tire of the tri-weekly ritual of doing my roots but at this stage I am getting pretty efficient at it. I guess I'll just continue with the status quo, staying far away from harsh chemicals, as well as a brush and comb.

At the end of the day, I don't see my gray hair as a hindrance, I see it as a reward for finally embracing who I am. What can I say, change is exactly that... CHANGE. You either embrace it or you don't.

I may be good and gray but when it comes to my overall outlook the math is a 95/5 split.

95% GOOD n' 5% GRAY!

F IS FOR FINALLY

I’m not a superstitious person by nature but today is April the 7th and I almost gave my chosen word a second thought for fear of jinxing my optimism as well as the long range forecast.

For the last couple days, the mercury has risen above zero and the sun is starting to finally melt the godforsaken snow. I am pleased to report that we hit our expected high of 9C here today (that's a balmy 48F for all of my American friends). So, it's with some serious trepidation, I admit I have some hope.

Hope, that the snow might finally be gone, before May the first!

Havin' a beer and finally catching some rays!
TAKEN: April 6th, 2014

Just to prove that I'm not feeding you a line of bull, I snapped my husband's picture around three o'clock yesterday afternoon. 

As we finished our weekend chores, we decided to soak up a bit of the sun. 

Thanks to a lot of elbow grease, our front deck had been rid of ice and snow since last weekend. I had prepared myself for my husband to rant, telling me the sun would eventually melt it. Then, verbalizing my passionate rebuttal, explaining why I'd finally had enough. 

Every year I do the rid the ice exercise (both here and at our cottage) and every year my husband tells me 'I need to get my head examined...' Actually, every year, before this year.

This year, he grabbed a shovel and helped move the large pieces of ice and snow, as I hammered them loose with the back of a splitting ax.

I guess you can say, for the first year ever... He'd FINALLY had enough!