...I Honestly Didn’t See THAT Coming!

A couple of years ago, what seemed like out of the blue, a media colleague quit their job. We weren’t really close personal friends per say - yet we had a mutual respect for the others’ work ethic and overall business savvy. I remember the day he told me he was branching out and opening his own agency.

IDP Message Circa: 2007

Working for yourself and working for a large company are two totally different birds. I suppose because I've done both, I can pull from the number of different experiences I learned from. 

When I ventured out on my own in 2004, I knew cost management was something I loved; yet, I had no sales experience. I knew I would have to dig my heels in to find success. 

Much to my surprise, the sales piece came quite easily. Conditioning myself into taking a 24 hour cooling down period was something I had to develop. It was just one of many skills I had to hone.

It takes a very specific skill set (as well as discipline) to be an independent. Butcher, Baker, Candlestick Maker... If you don’t sell, you don’t eat. More importantly, if you don’t treat your supply chain like Gold, you’re very quickly hung out to dry. 

I am so very fortunate that during my IDP days I'd always surrounded myself with the right Team players. As a result, I made sure they were paid before myself. Truth of the matter was, ten years ago, I needed all of them, more than they needed me to sell their abilities.

I've always said that 'it's ones that know it all... that have no ability to grow.' Their ego simply take up all the air in any given room they enter. At the end of the day... Why rant about the the little bit of bad debt I incurred today? It's simply another life lesson learned.

I'll still wish the old boy Good Luck. ...and caution him to tread carefully. Not sure why I'd bother. Seems he knows everything as he bullied me into submission.

Or did he?

The 400th Time's A Charm

My newest business associate was telling me last week that he'd finally gotten around to reading some of my Blog. As expected, there were questions: as always, I was honest. What started out as a simple coping mechanism has taken on a life of it's own.

Here's to the Muskoka summer that was never meant to be.
TAKEN: JULY 27th, 2014

Truth of the matter is that tonight is my 400th offering. 

Yes-sir-ree, I  have written about & processed four hundred different life events, stories, not to mention varying emotions. 

The part that really tugs at my heart strings is that this is only my 347th actual post. The others sit in limbo for only my eyes and heart to ever see and feel. I'm not even remotely embarrassed to admit that because every single one's contributed to how I've arrived at today. Few know how truly cryptic they are and I suspect no one else cares. Makes no matter, all are an extension of me, kind of like children.

Early on, my cousin Nancy asked "Why is your husband never really mentioned in your Blog?" 

My response was immediate. "Because it isn't his Blog!"

Why does he appear today? Well, yesterday was an exceptionally memorable day. Mid way through the afternoon we were having so much fun I picked up the camera. Because I totally suck at taking selfies it took us a number of tries. We had a blast taking them and for the very first time in four hundred attempts I am going to share a blooper reel.

Thanks to each and everyone of you for staying in touch. For whatever reason, I enjoy this somewhat unconventional process of keeping an electronic journal. I am pleased to report that not only did I survive last winter - but that I am witnessing, first hand, the Muskoka summer that was never meant to be. 

Oh, that is except for... yesterday. From about two until five o'clock to be exact!

Cheers...

The Red Leaves of Life

I was coming up from the dock last week and I glanced over that the bright red leaves on this young maple shrub. It’s the middle of July and the leaves are telling me the year is evolving faster than expected. Because my entrepreneurial spirit is in overdrive, I need there to be eight months remaining until December 31st. I realized today that I have to get that many months’ worth of work done in five.

Trust me... A vibrant splash of red is critical in business...
Taken: July 16th, 2014

My mind wanders back to the leaves.

From the time I was a small child, I've always remembered red being my favourite colour. 

I guess some would say it’s because of my olive skin and dark colouring but I think it’s more deeply rooted than that. I think it’s because I was born a leader.

I believe my extensive sales and marketing success has evolved from my passion for analyzing data. I feel like the conductor at the symphony when I am working with hundreds of thousands of cells in Excel. I truly enjoy the process of mapping the journey strategically for a Business (so that the fewest steps are taken to ensure success) then, personally leading them in the most efficient and productive direction to great financial reward.

This time last year, decisions were being made simply because my primary personality colour was red. Those decision makers chose to ignore the obvious; not to mention the provided data. Here’s the deal. The data never lies. A year later, I have to say, I really don't know why I gave a shit.

Nowadays, I am working with amazing people that get it. They understand exactly why the leaves are so green, the boat in the distance is blue, the sun's bright yellow, and that a solid flash of red leaves is critical to a successful Muskoka TEAM.

Lucky ME… My photo, as well as my future, has every single colour covered nicely.

At Least My Hippo Is Happy!

I woke up this morning and just stayed in bed listening to the rain. It’s started to pour last night about dusk and this morning the humidity level makes everything feel sticky. Not the good kinda maple syrup sticky; but the ‘I need to take a shower every fifteen minutes’ icky sticky.

It’s eerily quiet. If I didn't know any better I’d think that someone slipped my pups a couple of Quaaludes when I wasn't looking. Cranky and bored, I finally rustled up the energy to haul my ass out of bed and clicked the coffee maker on. It normally doesn't bother me to be out here alone but this morning I am feeling lonely. 

Anyway, with a scowl on my face and my coffee in hand, I went outside in the rain and looked down at the landing. With a terse and somewhat condescending tone, I immediately asked my buddy the obvious question of the day. ‘What the hell are you smilin' about?” 

Then I burst into laughter. I've officially reduced myself to taking to my floating Hippo!

This is Harold the Hippo and he's always happy!
Taken: July 20th, 2014

Isn’t he cute? My son and his bestie found him a float in the rain on Canada Day. 

I must admit, I was so excited when they approached the dock with him following behind. To be fair, I've left him on full display in case his rightful five year old owner came a calling but so far my elevated picnic table has remained his home.

I think he likes it there because he can’t stop smiling. See, the day isn’t a total bust. At least my hippo is happy. I think I’ll officially name him Harold. I wonder if he’s hungry? Get it? ♪♫♪ Hungry, Hungry Hippos… Hungry, Hungry Hippos ♪♫♪  (It really is one of the best board games every invented.)

Maybe I'll wander down and eat my breakfast in front of him and let some of his good nature rub off on me on this super shitty Sunday.

Ya Gotta Laugh About It...!!

Thank God It’s Friday!

I've always made an effort to hone my ability to multi-task; yet, I don’t know why I find comfort in the moments when I'm in overdrive. You know those days? When you have so much on the go that you swear you can hear circus music in your head & sense carnies (circus folk) standing behind you at your desk? All of that said, this was one hell of a long week under the Big Top!

Late yesterday afternoon my husband called me to ask if I needed anything. Knowing that a barrel of Pinot Grigio and two very large straws were not an option, I quietly said nothing. Then, about forty five minutes later, I heard the dogs barking signalling that someone was coming down the steps to the cottage.

My best friend bough me flowers...
Aren't they purdee?
Taken: July 17th, 2014

When I swung about in my office chair and looked up, my husband was standing there. Shocked, I said, “...what the hell?!”

All he said was, “I sensed you were having a bad day”.

My eyes filled with tears. After all, it was his birthday and I was the one getting a gift.

Once again, the both of us are treading in new waters. Our son moved in with his best friend this past week which officially makes us 'empty nesters’. 

Though we both have so much on the go, for a couple that do a lot apart, we most definitely find our way back to each other in the moments that truly matter. It’s like we've come full circle and we are unconditionally there for one and other.

I shouldn't type that like there's a hint of surprise in the keys, because there isn't. Let’s face it, at the end of the day, isn't that what best friends do? They unconditionally support one and other?

Right?

RIGHT!

#TGIF everyone. 

That is all...!

YUP... It Was RUB-A-TUMMY-YUMMY!

I am one of those people that simply don’t live a very adventurous life. Matter a fact, I'm really quite regimented. I won’t go so far as to admit that I own matching ‘days of the week’  bras and undies but pretty close. What can I say, I know what I like and I like what I know. 

That said, living at the cottage brings out a whole different side of my personality. I’m not sure if it’s the water and fresh air, or just the change of pace of how my day progresses, but from the moment I pull in the drive, I feel rejuvenated. Especially when it comes to trying new things – especially food.

When I’m in town, I generally eat the same things at the same time every single day. It’s almost like I have my body conditioned to it. I only consume so many calories in the exact same order every day and I prepare and eat dinner within a thirty minute window each and every night. I didn’t always use to be like that but as my ‘Quest For My Waist” began three and a half years ago, it’s almost like I found specific foods I like and walked away from all things guilty almost overnight.... That was until last night.

Butter, bacon, carbs, and sauces are not my friend. If I enjoy a small potato, I don’t eat any bread that day, if I treat myself to any bacon, it’s always turkey bacon; but a week or so ago, I came across a recipe on my favourite food blog. 

Mine doesn't look as good as Jen's but it was still amazing!
LOADED SMASHED POTATO SKILLET RECIPE
(c) seasonsandsuppers.ca

It contained every single thing that I use to love but no longer enjoy.  

It took me a week to talk myself into it and yesterday I folded like a lawn chair and prepared this VERY guilty pleasure for dinner.

Being the dog lady I am, I feed my pups people food. Last night was no exception. They loved the marinated pork tenderloin but turned their noses up as I tried to hand feed them some of my grilled asparagus.

Knowing I had already crossed the line, I met my girlz in the middle. I ate the remaining veggies and they enjoyed the last smashed potato. 

Why wouldn't I let them have it? After all, they gave Jen's rub-a-tummy-yummy recipe two paws up!

...and so did I.

Sir William Earns A Selfie!

September 24th, 2013 was a really great day! 

Not only did I know that I was going to spend an amazing day with one of my very favourite people in the whole wide world; the bigger piece was that by the time I went to bed that night, I'd officially decided to leave my job.  Even though I will always consider it a "dream job", for personal reasons, making that final decision offered me inexplicable relief. (See my Sept 25th, 2013 post A COUPLE A CRAZY DAZE!) 

...Just always believe in yourself. That is all.
TAKEN: JULY 8TH, 2014

Wondering how I’m able to remember the exact date? 

My formula is simple.

If I get the hankering that I’m going to experience a truly memorable moment and/or day, I make a habit of snapping my picture. I know it’s kind of a quirky thing to admit, but in an effort to embrace a greater sense of self, it’s something I began experimenting with when I started sharing this wonky electronic journey.

It may be wonky... but some of those pictures have become my profile picture on Facebook, and some have just simply been entered into my vault of photos that I'll always cherish. How it works?  Whenever I am feeling like a complete and total flaming bag of crap, I look in that specific folder and remind myself that my good days far outweigh my bad. Today's officially been filed in my personal vault as one of those really good days!

What can I say? I had a simple, yet amazing, three hour lunch date. There were no flowers nor soft music, no hugs nor tears, just two friends in a downtown restaurant while it poured rain outside. Just like seeing Kathy & Claire last weekend, it was that effortless. Not only was there some very engaging conversation but it was great to simply see and hear them laugh again. 

You see, our friendship had become strained a little over a year ago when I believed a new friend over him... my old friend. I personally felt having lunch today was necessary for the both of us. So that we could clear the air and piece together the truth of what actually transpired and reconnect. I am pleased to report that our mission was easily accomplished.

Hence... My silly little wonky selfie. Thanks Sir William!

The Golfie Gals!

You know that old saying “you know that you’re truly friends with someone, when you don’t see each other for a year and you pick up like you saw each other yesterday”. That’s exactly how I feel about Kathy & Claire.

Ironically enough, the three of us met at a golf show. The Toronto Golf Show, about eight and a half years ago. I was telling them yesterday afternoon that I remember the exact moment we met. I was going to tell them that my somewhat photographic memory remembers what they were both wearing – but I thought that may creep them out a tad. Ooops… guess the cat’s outta the bag now.

Enjoyed a great round of golf with these gals!
Taken July 5th, 2014

Getting together with them yesterday was a bit of a milestone for me. 

Though we've always kept in touch, (and have seen each other in the city) yesterday signified the first time I’d been back to the old stomping ground in more than six years. 

Though some memories have obviously faded, I quickly realized yesterday that so many remain vibrant. I was impressed that I remembered how the course played. The fact that I left my game at home made no matter, it just felt eerily comfortable to walk it again. People at the Clubhouse said they remembered me. I just nodded and agreed. I didn't have a fecking clue who they were but I didn't want to make them feel uncomfortable. Rhondi Rule #454: When all else fails... Smile and nod and talk about the weather (or in this case golf). Which is exactly what I did.

I was nervous to return. I was going to return last year to see them and play a round but I wasn't ready. That said, it was good to be back, and I'll return to play again when they return right after Labour Day. I knew heading to the tee blocks it was going to be a brutal round, as it was my first of the year. So, as we teed up at nine, I told Claire that I was on a mission.

"I'm going to seriously practice before I see you again" I said.

With my crazy hectic schedule, I probably won't. Doesn't matter. Even though I had a severe case of the shanks yesterday, at the end of the day the wine we shared afterwards was way better than the golf. That's code for... no matter how much I practice in the next eight weeks... I'm never going to beat EITHER of these amazing golfers!

Thanks Gals. You both look great and we'll see you soon.

Can't Stop Change... Only Manage It!

When I moved out to the cottage I knew there would be a series of adjustments all around. Not only for me; but for my husband, my kids, and even the dogs. I knew I’d be fine, because let’s face it, living here was my idea, and I had carefully planned every single detail.

The extensive planning wasn’t because I thought I would struggle working from here, but because it’s fifty five steps down from the driveway to the front deck. Any crap I brought in, would eventually have to be carried out. I’m not proud to admit that it took three days to get everything I needed down the hill. But I AM pleased to report, that other than my struggles with the internet, I’m doin’ fine.

The dogs? Not quite as lucky as yours truly.

SIX HOURS OF STRAIGHT SQUIRRELIN'
TAKEN: JULY 3rd, 2014

I’d spotted Big Red (our resident red squirrel) shortly after we arrived. With it being cooler today, things have accelerated into an almost critical situation. Just like in the past,  that bastard is playing my girl like a fiddle!

It’s hard watching first-hand what my pup refuses to see, which is that Big Red is nothing but an egotistical tease that's simply baiting her. I have to give him props. He’s good. Why? Because I think my pup is naïve enough to believe they can be friends. When it clearly not an option.

It’s been less than a week since our arrival and it’s evident that she’s already exhausted; but only she can decide when enough is enough. All I can do is my very best to keep her otherwise distracted and content.

Take that Big Red. I'm onto ya. This is one game of dog and squirrel you’re gonna lose! 

Another Memorable Canada Day

My mind is restless this morning. I’m not sure why. It just is. I’m sitting at my desk, sipping my second cup of coffee, wondering where hell the time has gone. I’m reflecting; and for some reason my mind is racing.

It’s downright miserable out there and I am trying to remember the last time it poured rain and thunder rolled on Canada Day. We bought the cottage in 1999 and I never remember my favourite day of the year getting postponed.

My boys having a beer.
Taken: June 30th, 2014

Not that it matters. My boys were out for dinner last night which I absolutely loved. I love to watch them, I love to listen to them. Most of all? I love to feed them. 

It’s not that they aren't all perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. I just love that once in a while they allow me the privilege. It really is the little things in life that makes great memories. I truly believe that.

Take this morning as an example. I am sitting at my computer, listening to the rain that is drowning out the radio that sits atop the fireplace. The dogs are each sleeping in a chair on either side of me and I am writing. I am making a memory.

For the very first time I am posting to my electronic journal at the cottage and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that. I feel a tad conflicted really. All those years I refused my children the internet out here and once they’re all gone I've folded like a lawn chair and hooked myself up. It’s so that I can work out here but that’s beside the point.

I’m excited what this summer will bring. I've already decided to embrace my 5am wake up call and start working then, rather than fight nature. Not only will the bandwidth be streaming in my favour, I know from living here a couple of years ago that mornings here are amazing. What a difference fifteen silly miles can make.

Happy Canada Day everyone. May the fireworks you experience tonight stay in your vault of great memories forever. I know first hand that will be the case for me!

Have a good one. Be happy. Hug the ones you love and stay safe ~ Rhondi

HAPPY CANADA DAY EVERYONE
Taken: June 28th, 2014

The True Bond of Brotherhood

Our family lost a friend last weekend. She was one of the 'Mom’s'. 

You know the type? One of the ones that unconditionally drove the boys to and from basketball and watched in the stands. One, whose car would arrive at the oddest times in my driveway to fetch her strapping young boy. She will be truly missed. She was only 51.

As a group, we've only experienced this once before; but this one hit so very close to home. My children loved her, not to mention that her son's truly their "Brotha from anotha Mutha." 

It was a very small, private service. I was honoured to have been invited to attend with my son, and the third Musketeer with his Mother. I have to admit, that watching the three lads together (in a less than ideal situation) made me realize just how bonded they truly are. Completely and unconditionally inseparable.

The BOYS with Staccs.
TAKEN: June 2011

As predicted, my daughter called me afterward to make sure he was OK.

"Do you think he knows I would have been there today if I could have?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” I said.

Then I did the only thing I knew before I left my lad to head home.

I hugged him tight as I could and told him without hesitation that '...we all love you very much.’ 

Sleep tight Sharon. All of your hard work and suffering's finally over.

My Personal Cottage Screen Saver!

I had a great weekend. I swam, sunbathed, read, did my chores and completely decompressed: and, for the first time in I don’t know how many years, I watched the sun rise this morning.

I’d like to say it was all romantic and Jane Austen like (you know, how beautiful it was when Mr. Darcy arrived at dawn to pledge his love for Miss Elizabeth)… but it wasn't. Truth of the matter is I was thirsty and had to pee but was too lazy to get up. So, I stayed in bed as long as I possibly could. That specific time lapse of endurance just happened to be the exact amount of time it took for the sun to rise.

As I was listening to the birds and watching the day awake, I couldn't help but notice that the patio screen door looked like it was moving. It kinda reminded me of how movies use to illustrate a radical 70's acid trip. The brighter it got outside, the more the screen seemed to move. Worried that it was my bladder playing tricks on me, I got up to discover my virtual screen saver. 

The True Meat Eaters Of Muskoka!
TAKEN: June 23rd, 2014

WOWZA... There were a shit load of mosquitoes on that sucker. 

Big ones, small ones, slim ones, tall ones. I'm sure they'd traveled for metres  at the hopes of making their way inside to my ample blood supply. (Trust me, my cell phone pic doesn't illustrate the quantity, just the size of the ones that were as big as hummingirds!)

Which totally quantifies one of my own personal philosophies about working hard, persistence, & getting results.

If you think you're too small to make an impact, try going back to sleep when there's a single mosquito in your bedroom.

Ya Gotta Bitch... I mean LAUGH About It....!

GIT-R-DONE Little One

I moved my only daughter cross country last weekend. It was a difficult thing to do but it was what she truly wanted. I wish the transition would have went smoother, but at the end of the day there's no handbook for parenting.  All you can do is try your hardest and just never lose hope. Hope, that their compass will point them home. If, and or when, they may want to return.

Doing back flips with Dad at our favourite family spot on Lake Rosseau. She was 4.
TAKEN: JULY 1994

I remember being at her stage in my life. I was surrounded by a core group of friends and had that proverbial tiger by the tail. I was driving my boyfriend's Corvette and my mother was not impressed with my choices. Why would I remember? Aside from it being the most amazing summer of my life, it was just before she got sick. We were estranged. 

When my daughter was making her most recent series of life choices, I thought of that time all those years ago with my own mother. Oh how I wished she could have told me that she loved me. Even though in her opinion she thought she knew best, I wish she would have trusted me to know my own self worth. Instead, I was given her all or nothing ultimatum. I didn't choose her. That time of disconnect has ended up being a very bittersweet time in my life that I look upon with regret.

That said, this time isn't about me, it's about my daughter. I know that no matter what she puts her mind to, she will be successful. She knows we're here... but at the end of the day she's driving the bus.

Look at my photo. She was only four years old and she had such an unconditional trust. The moral of my story is what my photo doesn't show. That she instinctively knew to pull her knees into her chest so that she'd land on her feet!

I love you Sweetie.

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