Q IS FOR QUAGMIRE

Quag·mire 

Pronounced kwaɡˌmī(ə)r/noun

a. an awkward, complex, or hazardous situation. "a legal quagmire"

synonyms: muddle, mix-up, mess, predicament, mare's nest, can of worms, quandary, tangle, imbroglio; trouble, confusion, difficulty; informal sticky situation, pickle, stew, dilemma, fix, bind "a judicial quagmire"

YA GOTTA LAUGH ABOUT IT

P IS FOR PARADISE

One of the field supervisors cheerfully wandered into my office this morning, and after we finished talking business, he asked how my recent trip to Mexico went. Though I quickly acknowledged it was amazing, I instantly pointed to my second computer monitor to show him the pic I am posting of where I am headed at the end of November.

I could tell by the look on his face that he was a tad surprised that I’d just gotten home and that I was already mentally packing my suitcase again. I explained that I’d come across renting this house  before we'd ever left for Sayulita and expanded on why (when it comes to life & travel) my timeline for adventure has a true sense of urgency.

“My mother passed away when she was 57,” I said; "...and it’s like I'm in a competition with myself to experience as many destinations as I can in the next few years; just in case.” He immediately nodded and told me that he understood.

The beachfront at our rental home in Elbow Cay, Abocos, Bahamas.
(Photo credit & rental heads up to my very good buddy JCW)
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 2015

So, it’s official. The last week of November we’re heading to Elbow Cay, Abocos, Bahamas.  I really wanted to wait to decide, in hopes I could score a really great price on 10 days in Aruba (but it was my husbands turn to pick, so off we go).

I’d be lying if I wrote that my deep yearning to head to Aruba was just for the stamp in my passport. Though that’s definitely part of it, when I was young my parents always said 'when they took their first trip to an island paradise, they'd be walking on the white sands in Aruba.' Suffice is to say my mother was gone before they ever had the chance to take that trip.

Who knows, here's hoping I'll get to take them both with me in spirit next year.

O IS FOR OVERFLOW

For the last few years, my sleepy little Ontario town  has suffered terribly as a result higher than normal water levels and an unorganized Ministry of Natural Resources. 

I snapped this 2 weeks after the worst flooding ever to hit us.
TAKEN: APRIL 2013 

An act of God isn't covered by insurance. Proving that is wasn't, has been an even bigger task for home/cottage owners, with a government entity being accused of wrong doing.

I'm not looking to blame for the 2016 overflow, just trying to understand so that it doesn't keep happening. 

CLICK HERE 

to view a CTV news clip on this years flooding.

Oh, that's my buddy Dan being interviewed. A long standing Muskoka resident & builder.

N IS FOR NOVEMBER

As you know, I hop on a plane in late fall with the hopes of getting a head start on coping with our tough Canadian winters. My issue isn't with winter per say, I'm very active outdoors, so once the snow arrives I spend as much of my spare time embracing the white stuff as I can. I don't mind raking the leaves in October nor the sporadic snow fall we receive in December. My issue is with the entire month of November.

Cottage Closing Day
TAKEN: NOVEMBER 1st, 2015

I don't truly hate November, simply because my mother always taught me never to hate anything ...It takes too much energy to hate, she use to say. 

So I'll admit that I strongly dislike the month in general and truly resent the bane of its overall existence. How's that for setting the tone on how I really feel?

There are so many things that happen in November that I truly dread. The cottage gets closed, the days get shorter, the hydro bills get larger and my bank account seems to require life support as all the annual payments come due. It's just a month filled of things I generally dislike.

As I began to write this morning, I realized that the month I am complaining about is aptly named.

NOOOOOOOOOOvember is not not, nor ever will be my friend!

M IS FOR MISSING

My father and I on my wedding day.
TAKEN: JUNE 1988

Today... I am missing my Dad. 

Joseph Herve St.Onge - 1928 - 2005

Do not stand at my grave and weep.

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there; I did not die.

(Written in 1932 by Mary Elizabeth Frye)

L IS FOR LOYALTY

GONE are the days when I work for a company...  where my loyalty is taken for granted!!
TAKEN: JULY 2012

K IS FOR KRYPTONITE

Let me start by writing that if you Google 'what is kryptonite', the search engine will report something to the effect that it's a fictional substance from the Superman comic book series, that generally has detrimental effects on Superman. Though I can't personally be compared to Superman (first and foremost because I'm a woman) I do believe that everyone has something personal that evokes a  certain level of weakness from within.

After my father passed away in 2005, I slowly started to hide my eating habits from everyone around me. The truth of the matter is that I found a comfort in food that I'd never experienced before in my life. For the first few years I managed alright, because I still ran and golfed a couple of times a week. Then, around 2009 the weight gain started to become apparent. 

Long story short, my 2011 New Years Resolution was to completely change my eating behaviours and lose the excess weight I'd gained. It was much harder than I ever imagined but in the end I got my life as well as my waist back. That said, there was some tough love involved.

A perfect close up of my Krytonite

Gravy, which was my favourite food group, GONE. Candy and fast food, GONE. Portion sizes that could feed a small family, GONE. 

The hardest habit to break? Getting my husband to stop bringing my kryptonite into the house: Miss Vickies Sea Salt & Malt potato chips.

Almost 10 years later, she and I have come to agree to disagree. The sad part is she doesn't play fair. Whilst wheeling my grocery cart through the isles on Saturday morn, I swear she's calling out to me. 

"Pssst... Rhondi. I'm in isle 3," she'll say. To which I'd immediately and lovingly respond with skitch of a shrill in my tone..."Get lost, BITCH!"

Them thar words are the only ones she ever gets in response.

Ya Gotta Laugh About It.

J IS FOR JOURNEY

At this stage of my life, I am a firm believer 'your only impossible journey is the one you've never attempted to take.' I'm sure that's my inner entrepreneurial spirit lashing out but as my nest emptied I continually reminded myself that in mid-life there wouldn't be an adventure I'd not entertain. 

Before I get ahead of myself, I feel I should admit that I am anything but a daredevil. As a matter a fact there are two things I am truly afraid of: the dark and the unknown. So, you can imagine my conundrum of inner turmoil, once I mentally convinced myself that it was time to hop on the new adventure bandwagon!

My personal Facebook cover photo last September...  GREAT adventure thus far!

I'm not going to lie. I was filled with mixed emotions when we moved the twins away to school on Labour Day weekend of of 2011. I had such angst that they were leaving, yet excited for what that meant for my newfound personal journey. As the late summer turned to fall, it quickly became apparent that I was completely alone, and my road to self-discovery didn't include a GPS nor a much needed flashlight. 

So, on a teary 2011 November night, I started this electronic journal. I'm so thankful that I've had people with me since its inception, and equally grateful for those that only stop by once in a while. The truth of the matter is, today you're reading my 600th post. 

The absolute truth is this journal journey has helped me process more life lessons than any appearance on Dr.Phil, with my plight starring in the last 600 episodes. So, as I continue to evolve and figure things out on the fly, I'd like to say those three special words, that are not only called for on this milestone day but most appropriate here tonight. 

...Thanks for reading!

I IS FOR INTERESTING

I'm not sure about you but I personally find it interesting how people believe everything they read on the internet. That said, I guess the obvious question arises, what do you entertain and what do you call 'bullshit' on?

As you know, I've just returned to Canada after traveling to once again celebrate my 29th birthday in Sayulita, Mexico. The truth is, before I landed in Los Cobos last fall, I use to make a blanket statement that "I had no interest in ever going to Mexico." The root of that statement came from me taking unsubstantiated tidbits of interesting information (about the water, crime etc) and not challenging them as varying levels of hokum.

We were just a trio of gringos, peacefully walking the backstreets of Sayulita Mexico.
TAKEN: APRIL 5th, 2016

Anyway, with our dollar performing so poorly against the American buck, my cumpleaños planning once again had me looking at Mexico. This trip (with surfing as my focus) I knew I wanted to rent a house. We did. It was a home owned by a Canadian and the best friend of a friend that had already stayed there. I am almost embarrassed to report that when we arrived, my list of interesting internet questions for the owner (about being an off resort tourist in Mexico) leaned toward embarrassing. So much so, that by about the 10th one, he was answering me with a hint of laughter.

Suppose some would say 'better safe than sorry', other true naysayers will claim 'we just got lucky and Mexico's not really like what we'd experienced.' What do I say? Use your common sense and make smart decisions. The more Spanish you know, the less everything costs. Don't venture out at night alone and look both ways before you cross the street.

Seriously... they drive like they're all from downtown Montreal!

So, from now on, when researching online, I'll remind myself to look to this quote:    

Don't believe everything you read on the internet ~ Abraham Lincoln

Interesting how that right there puts things into perspective, eh?

H IS FOR HAPPINESS

My picture isn't worth 1,000 words.... It simply speaks for me.
TAKEN: April 9th, 2010
Sayulita, Mexico

G IS FOR GRATEFUL

As I posted about facing my fears yesterday, I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge how grateful I am for so many things in my life today. Not just materialistic things: anything but. 

I've said it before and I'll say it again. I am extremely grateful, that I have understood from a young age, the difference between want and need. Some comment on the fact that I travel twice a year but there is a distinct reason for both trips. I want to travel for my birthday (which will be here in a minute and a half) yet I need to get into the sunlight before the harsh Canadian winter sets in. Both are stringently budgeted for and I never feel the need to overspend simply because I've managed to save more than planned.

That said, in the last five years, my being grateful is something I've promised myself I would never take for granted ever again. New people and friends I've met, the fact that I had my children close together (and at a young age) enabling me begin the next phase of my life; the list is long. As I walked the entire stretch of beach my very first morning in Sayulita, there were a couple of extra special things I realized I was grateful for this trip.

The new camera I treated myself to, and the vat of sunscreen I packed as a carry on.

May read silly to you but look at my view.... & I-chee-Mama she's hot down here!

F IS FOR FACING FEAR

For anyone that been reading here for any length of time, you're very aware that 2016 is intended to be about the experience for me. So naturally, when we decided to rent a house in Mexico, I immediately knew that I wanted to go way the hell out of my comfort zone and once again looked to my bucket list. This trip, I had set my sights on trying to learn to surf.

Just waiting for the right wave.
TAKEN: APRIL 7th, 2016

Well, I am pleased to report that I've been rockin' a boogie board all week and tomorrow's the day that I officially get on a surf board; yet I'm not sure how it will go.

My eldest boy surfed yesterday and he was amazed just how hard it was. After bout an hour, he walked up the beach with what seemed like his knuckles dragging behind him, because he's worked his arms so much. 

Truth? I really don't care if I am unsuccessful catching a great wave. For me, it's about setting my sights on something and seeing it through. The fact that I've spent three days in the ocean preparing for this milestone tells me that I have faced my biggest fear of all.

My fear of the unknown.

Wish me luck!

E IS FOR EXCELENTE

EXCELENTE..... Are our memories created on the back roads of Sayulita, Mexico.
TAKEN: APRIL 6th, 2016

D IS FOR DISPOSITION

As a person that works every single day so the 'glass half empty' never wins, I find that I'm constantly inspired by the little things in life that help me maintain my cheery disposition. That said, imagine my pleasant surprise when I came across this beautiful bench whilist walking the streets of Sayulita this morning. 

It reads: Smile in any situation and feel the atmosphere change...

.

Just SMILE!
TAKEN: APRIL 5th, 2016

What makes my photo even that more symbolic? It's been constructed out of two doors, which also reinforces for yours truly... When one door closes, another always opens. As I stood in the moment I instantly thought of those very special peeps that unconditionally make me smile. This post is for you and the impact you have on my cheery disposition.

I love you all....

C IS FOR CUP 'O COFFEE

Thankful for my blogging day of rest yesterday, I woke this morning with the intent of cheerfully climbing back on the A-Z blogging bus. Though I tried to do exactly that, I must apologize. I am struggling with my internet connection and ability to post from Sayulita, Mexico.

So, in the spirit of not giving up, I've poured you a cup of coffee. Here's keeping my fingers crossed that I am back on track tomorrow.

So please enjoy... Both my view and your pippng hot coffee. ~ Rhondi

There's nothing like a cup of coffee with an amazing view!
TAKEN: APRIL 4th, 2016

B IS FOR BEST BUDDIES

My Best Buddy n' ME in vacay
TAKEN: December 2016

It’s hard to believe that the first of next month marks the 30th anniversary since my husband and I began dating. 

I know it sounds corny but they say when you meet the person you are meant to marry you know. I couldn’t agree more, we instantly connected and we’ll be married 28 years in June.

Like any great accomplishment, staying together has taken work. I’d like to write that it’s been all rainbow, kittens and unicorns but that would be a lie unless those items fall in line with some serious hard work that in turn produced out life of happiness.

Work staying unified in raising our children, and a lot of hard work building a life that has us living in harmony. Like any couple, there have been times that we didn’t like each other, gaps where I know that he wasn’t in love with me and vice versa. At this juncture, we simply file those times in our life lessons folder that we’ve both learned and grown from. I also save all of those folders in case the Canadian government eventually offer me an income tax credit for continuing education.

KIDDING!! 

“C” you tomorrow. 

A IS FOR ADIOS AMIGOS

I must admit, I feel a smidgen odd starting my April A-Z Blogging Challenge by saying goodbye. After all, this is the one month a year when we all focus on making new friends, so allow me to apologize for the oddity and invite you to  hang around.

Soaking up the sun and catching the waves in Los Cabos, Mexico.
TAKEN: DECEMBER 1st, 2015

Why such a quick goodbye instead of a cheerful hello? 

By this time tomorrow, I'll be on a plane destine for Mexico, which is where my first seven letters of the alphabet will be created and posted from. Beautiful Sayulita, Mexico.

Just so we're clear from the start, this isn't a travel blog. Over time, I have come to consider it an electronic journal. This is my fourth year participating in the challenge, and since I began writing (late fall of 2011) about my refusal to let 'the glass half empty win',  I've had close to two million people stop by. 

So, like my bio says, I am a social media junkie that's rockin' a small Canadian town. What you read is what you get and always remember to keep your hands and feet in the ride at all times. Feel free to follow me on TWITTER, FACEBOOK or GOOGLE+. Better yet, leave me a comment and let me know where I can find YOU. 

So, Adios Amigos. I'm off to the airport. I'll "B" blogging in my bathing suit tomorrow!

WELCOME BACK BIG GUY!

I didn’t have much of a voice when I woke up this morning. I felt a tickle in the back of my throat all day yesterday but figured I’d survived the copious amounts of screaming I did Saturday night relatively unscathed. Before your mind steamrolls you completely into the gutter, it's not what you're thinking. I simply headed south for a Garth Brooks concert.

I’ll start by saying that I am probably one of the largest concert goers I know. The other thing that I’ll disclose is that in most cases I head to the majority of the events on my own. Once the kids left the nest, there was nothing stopping me from heading into the City, at the drop of the hat, for a night of amazing entertainment. I started taking the sport seriously about 5 years ago and suffice is to say my Ticketmaster account is my friend.

Did you know it's been 19 years since Garth Brooks toured  in Canada?
TAKEN: MARCH 26th, 2016

So, when my phone alerted me that a small section of seats were released late last Thursday afternoon (for the 2016 Garth Brooks World Tour) I instantly sensed my credit card starting to vibrate in my wallet and my online password begging to be used. 

Once logged on, how could I resist? 

With that Ticketmaster blue dot shinning right back I me, I felt blessed that she was the only one left.  I clicked my mouse to instantly purchase the perfect onesie. You know the seat: that one perfect ticket that’s always alone in a prime spot but meant especially for someone like me... A die hard, concert going, fanatic!

As a person that over thinks and over analyzes everything, if there's one thing mid-life has taught me, is the less you think about something the more fun you'll have. I'm not a risk taker, anything but. Though, over time, I have evolved into a person who has no issue seizing a moment when it feels right.

My added bonus to grabbing my last minute onesie on the fly? In all the thousands of dollars I have spent over years on varying concert experiences, I have never felt the energy around me as I did Saturday night. His words and showmanship made me feel like he was singing for/to/and directly at me, the entire performance.

Well, me, and 19,999 other fans. All of whom I figure couldn't talk this morning either!

Thanks, Garth. A mere 19 years later... Canada still truly loves you.

WE BROKE UP VIA TEXT!

It’s official. I am definitely a sucker for punishment.

For those of you that are new to reading here; since 2013 I have participated in an international blogging challenge called April A-Z. In a nutshell, I have to blog about a letter of the alphabet every single day (excluding Sundays) for the entire month of April.

I’m not sure why I waited until the 11th hour to officially make my decision to participate. I guess it's because deep down inside I wasn’t sure I wanted to. You see, last year it definitely took a toll. I was away (in Samana, DR) with shitty WI-FI trying to write and post in real time on the fly. It was extremely frustrating, an all-around awful week away, and it showed in my offerings.

I suppose you could say that because I don't write for a living, I wasn't sure I wanted to jeopardize my 10 day vacation, not to mention once again own the grueling task of writing 26 posts in 30 days. I guess you can say that for the first time since I started this electronic journal, found me sitting on the proverbial blogging fence. I have little to no stress in my life, why in the hell would I go looking for it?!

It's simple. It is the one specific time thoughout the year that I enjoy the specific forum of connecting and meeting other bloggers. By participating I see my largest increase in readership within those 30 days, so the stress of participation does have its perks.

So, my goal this year is to have a stress-free experience and I am confident our arrangement will work out. You seem I sent a text to my stress and ended our relationship specifically on my terms, then blocked them from communicating with me after.

What? Isn’t that how you dump someone today? ...Via BBM, WhatsAp, iChat, Facebook, or a simple text message?

If not, DO NOT tell my stress.

...I hit send, bolted, then landed in my very cool happy place to which they do not have a forwarding address!

PROOF IS IN THE PUDDIN’

As you know, today’s the first day of spring. So, with the blinds open before 8am and the sun beaming in, my day got off to an earlier than normal Sunday morning start. With the side & back yards becoming the place where world famous mud pies could be made, I knew that I needed to wash the floors. An expected dog maintenance task that will happen a couple of times a week until things dry up.

Puddin' rocking the downtown Bracebridge drive!
TAKEN: MARCH 20th, 2016

Shortly after noon, with my chores complete, I needed to run a couple of errands. Because my husband didn't want to miss out on the fun, we decided to take the dogs. He drove and I managed the behaviour of my three pups in the back seat. 

We are currently looking to replace our Ford Explorer that we sold, so if you can envision two adults and three larger than average sized dogs in my wee Mazda 6... It’s pretty hilarious.

How funny? Today I noticed with everyone out and about, that they had a general expression of joy in their faces as we passed; walkers, runners and even riders. As the dogs hung out the windows of my glamourized upholstered skateboard, total strangers instantly felt a 'spring has sprung' connection. Some waved, some yelled hello, most just simply grinned from ear to ear as we passed them by.

I don't know about you but I absolutely love when spring is in the air. For me, it’s like a switch gets flipped. Each and every year I brace myself to get hammered by the time change, then a week later I pack up my happy lights and tuck them away until the fall. As silly as it sounds, the natural light that spring provides me is right up there with really great sex.

...It’s simply euphoric.

TODAY, WE REMEMBER BLAIR

It's a given that most people think of today as St. Patricks Day. I suppose until 2011, I did too. 

It just so happens that 5 years ago today, one of the great ones answered their call and as a result my friend Blair McLaren passed away. 

I know that name won’t specifically resonate with the majority of my readers but trust me when I write that he was a very well respected businessman. Though not where his career would end, when I was growing up, he and his wife owned the local sporting goods store affectionately known as McLaren Sports.

Myself & Blairs' daughter Sarah. Happy to be able to still call her my friend.
TAKEN: APRIL 1983

If I close my eyes, I can remember the day I sat in their store and he outlined my feet for a custom made pair of John Kenbli skates. I was so excited that I was floating, and of course my mother was being my mother.

I remember the ordeal as embarrassing and I distinctly remember the conversation as generally uncomfortable. He explained the manufacturing process and expected lead time for delivery. Then, they talked about why the price was the price. 

As he answered all of her questions, in an nano-second he earned her complete and unconditional trust. He promised never to disclose to my father the money she’d spent in his store on my fateful day; and he never did. 

Over time, teaching their daughters to skate, led me to babysitting for he and his wife. I also remember it was the end of an era when they closed the store to focus on building a corporate family business ~ aptly named McLaren Press. 

What his wife and girls don't know is that 20 years later, when I opened IDP Muskoka in 2004, Blair and his brother Scott were one of my very first calls. After all, every new marketing agency with a solid business plan, needs a great trade printer. I remember the meeting. 

It started with Scott (whom lived across the street from me at the time) then he called in Blair. Much to my surprise, the two of them made me an offer to join their team 24 hours later. Though I declined, Blair always remembered the fire in my belly and my overall vision. He was truly the first successful man that supported the concept of women leading in business.

Even with life being as busy as it was, no matter when I ran into him, he never hesitated to stop and ask me how I was doing. Never rushed nor forced. He was always genuine and very happy for me.

Musings aside, the funny thing is that all these years later, I still have those skates. Matter a fact I cherish them. Always have. Always will. 

So, tonight, I ask you to raise your green beer, glass of wine, or a glass of water to Blair.

Loving husband, wonderful father, grandfather, employer, friend. He may be gone but most definitely will never be forgotten.

Cheers, Blair...Thanks for the memories.

APPARENTLY, I HAVE AN ISSUE?

A few months ago I was involved in a labour forecasting meeting where I was introducing a new weekly reporting mechanism I’d designed using Google Docs. In preparing to begin my demonstration, my Goggle+ profile (which you all see when you read here, comment on our Facebook page, or read my Tweets) popped up for me to log into. Without missing a beat, my Boss quickly asked… “What’s with the shades?!”

I vaguely explained that my profile pic's a very symbolic selfie that was taken at a time when I could feel my life changing. It was right around that time I began my electronic journal and as a result it has stayed with me this entire time. That said, I may have told him the story of the day I took the picture but I neglected to tell him that when it comes to me and sunglasses, I may have a wee bit of an issue.

Sporting my newest UV acquisition from last Friday.
TAKEN: MARCH 13th, 2016

If I recall, it started when I was in high school. Like most girls my age, I worked part-time and enjoyed something very exciting called disposable income.

By way of my personality, I knew early on that I would never occupy the proverbial “buy the shoes” lane. Yet, I discovered quickly that without incurring a boat load of expense, a pair of sunglasses could make the most amazing fashion statement. (That, combined with the fact that Corey Hart rocked the Billboard charts with Sunglasses At Night, sealed my 30+ year fate.)

Long story short. I had to scoot into the city last Friday to renew my passport. So, when my mission was accomplished I took it upon myself to do a little shopping. Almost eight hours later, I arrived home with two very small purchases. A new bathing suit and another pair of sunglasses. I could tell when I showed them off to Staccs, she really wasn’t impressed. I explained to her, what I have always believed to be true: some women like shoes but I am magnetically and compulsively attracted to a great concert ticket and sunglasses.

This morning, as I gushed over my new specs, she felt the need to share that she'd spoken of me to her father when I wasn't around. She admitted that when she and her father were in our local grocery store yesterday (that offers optical services) she spied a really neat pair of flashy colourfully tinted reading specs she thought I’d love. She mentioned to her Dad that she thought they should pick them up for me. It was at that point my daughter told me that my husband stopped and turned to her with a matter a fact attitude. “When it comes to sunglasses… Your mother has issues” he said.

I don't want to disclose how many pairs of sun specs I have, except to say that my husband bought me a 5 gallon tote and lid this weekend and mentioned that it may be time to for me to increase my storage.

I told him to use his comical (albeit much needed gesture) for his vintage album collection!!

I am pleased to report his albums have found a very safe haven,

Sun accessory issues my ass!!

IS IT TIME TO SINK OR SWIM?

Don’t you find it interesting that the majority of our conversations begin with a mention that leads to a discussion about the weather? Perhaps I notice it more than most, because where I come from,  the weather influences everything from your mood to your ability to earn a year round living.

Keeping that in mind, as I was telling my BEF (best electronic friend) how excited I am that spring had sprung, they in turn commented that Muskoka still looked like a frozen tundra. I didn’t want to ask them if they were sniffing glue but I’m not gonna lie, thank goodness I have a filter because that very thought immediately entered my head. Frozen tundra? For crying out loud, the ice is sinking!

So, with that as our carpool chit-chat topic for the ride home, I asked the Sweeny-Meister to pull over so that I could hold up my phone to prove to the electronic naysayer that spring was most certainly here. She did, I clicked away, then immediately sent my pics. Then, when I got home, I downloaded them onto my office hard drive and this particular photo really resonated with me.

This bridge is the prettiest thing left at the old Tamwood Lodge site
 ~ on Lake Muskoka
TAKEN: MARCH 10th, 2016

When I spied this photo, I couldn't help but focus on the bridge. My point was to prove the ice was melting, yet I couldn't help but wonder... 'Is the bridge at her limit, or is she stronger than ever?'

My glass half empty tells me she's cooked. My glass half full has a much different opinion which is probably why I was reflective. 

My glass half full knows what she's been though and that she's fought very hard for herself these last 5 years. In the midst of a lot of change happening, she still remains firmly in place. Can she hang in there and endure the lakes opening one more time? Does she really even want to hang on? Or, would she rather give up and let it all go?

Just like any strong woman, only she knows those answers. For what it's worth, I think she's experienced the worst of what she's been handed & she should hope for the best as the seasons change once again.

Afterall, though she stands alone, she represents the end of a beautiful time in Muskoka.

MY BONFIRE BEAUTY

This past Monday morning, the local radio station asked for people to call or post with what their personal telltale sign is that Spring is on it's way. A segment later, the morning guy announced that one fella posted he knows it's Spring because the roads are wet. Then, he immediately followed with a report of a lady posting that she knows it's Spring because her cat gets hyper.

As I prepared to turn on my hair dryer, I stopped in my tracks and burst out laughing. My quick change in demeanor got the attention of my three pups (that were occupying the powder room with me). I looked at them and joked..."Hey, you're looking at a woman with needs here. My cat gets hyper every Spring too!"

How do I get Dottie to pose?
Chicken wieners work every time!
TAKEN: MARCH 5th, 2016

For what it's worth, the dogs didn't think it quite as funny as yours truly and they couldn't figure out why the hell I was laughing hysterically so early in the morn.

Truth is, it was a stellar Monday morning moment after a truly amazing weekend. The weather kept me outside and it was mild enough to have a backyard bonfire late Saturday afternoon.

I love a great bonfire and so do my pups. With Dot aging quickly, I find myself picking certain activities that she enjoys just in case she gets called up to serve as a lifetime memory sooner than later. As you know, all dogs go to heaven, so I know she'll have no shortage to keep her herding instincts keen... Truthfully, it's us I'm really worried about.

As our Saturday afternoon festivities progressed, I posted to Twitter and sent a photo to my favourite electronic friend. It showed her bundled up in her blanket, on her very own Muskoka chair, to keep her  hips off the cold ground and basking our attention. Just look at that face, how could you not want to go out of your way and spoil that girl? Exactly!

As you can tell, more than usual, I will be capturing and hording memories...

After all, that's what we do with those we cherish and unconditionally love... Isn't it? 

NO HUGS REQUIRED!

Well, this past week signified the week that I would have normally gotten on a plane, had I not already been away the first week of December and am booked to head out again the first week of April. 

This time last year, I had regrets when our American friends headed out of the snow drifts of Wisconsin without us but this year I could have sworn I felt differently. Though I'm genuinely sad that I didn’t wake up this week on a beach in Jamaica (to relax and ring in my girlfriends 40th birthday) I had to be realistic; there's only so much time and less than that left in the budget. Even understanding those two critical factors, from the moment their Facebook page alerted me that they’d boarded their flight, I immediately longed to return, for a third time since 2012, to Jamaica.

As silly as this may read, I realized this past week, that I discovered myself in Negril. When I type that, I should clarify that I don’t care who you are, nothing prepares you for mid-life. Never once did anyone ever warn, nor offer me the proverbial handbook, of what to do with my time and energy once my children moved on. As a result, I quickly found myself lost. Which in turn landed me at a personal crossroads, accompanied by a full blown identity crisis.

You can't visit Jamaica and not land at Rick's Cafe. AMAZING!
TAKEN: MARCH 2nd, 2012

That said, to add salt to my wounded wanderlust this past week, I ended up chatting with a specific friend that was in my inner circle at the time of my fateful trip of self-discovery four years ago. If there's one thing I've realized in hindsight, it’s that when you allow people to see even a hairline crack of discord in your life, human nature has them use that as leverage for their own agenda.

I won’t elaborate any further except to say that once I got home from my 2012 Jamaica trip, it wasn’t long before I closed myself off from their negativity toward me and their opinions about the direction my life may or may not go. I was shocked last week they typed… “Something tells me that you’re never going to let me forget that time.” 

My answer? Abbsa-friggin’-lootley!!

I’ll never forget that very painful time. Matter a fact, I don’t want to forget. If I do, then those exact hairline cracks of negativity and control will slowly reappear. My biggest fear is that they will once again purposefully chip away at my self-confidence, which in hindsight was devastating. 

Bull crap aside... Happy Anniversary, to me. Just like the day I landed at Rick's Cafe in 2012, when it comes to navigating mean people, my mind has arrived where my determination will always be. Hear me roar when I say that I will never return to a place where I allow any person, friend and/or family member to manipulate my thoughts again.

Because let's face it. Any and all of them thar thoughts are exactly that... MINE! 

BETTER LATE THAN NEVER?

Here it is... The very first picture I posted to Instagram.
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 26th, 2016

In late October, my Boss wandered into my office and told me that he thought the company should have a presence on Instagram. As many of you know, I am a self-declared “social media junkie” so I was immediately a tad embarrassed. When he asked me what was wrong, I shrugged my shoulders and explained that Instagram was the one medium that I’d never ventured into. Without hesitation, he confidently gave me direction. “...Let's get at it!”

The very next day, we dove in head first and each created a personal account. He immediately began to post and share. Then, the following Saturday night I took my phone for a late night swim in the frigid fall water of Orillia Lake. Though I pulled my Blackberry out of the water and gave her mouth to mouth, she never truly recovered. From that point, my phone lost 90% of its functionality including the camera. Meaning, until I decided which phone I would upgrade to, Instagram would have to wait.

Well, I finally bit the bullet last week and bought a new phone, so I started to read and understand just what the hell it is Instagram does. Like anything, some bash it and others love it. I guess my main comment is that I’m just not sure what the hell to do with it.

So, with not a dime in my pocket to buy a clue as to how the the platform works, today I shared my very first Instagram post via iGrann (the posting option for a Blackberry). I'm always brutally honest, so you won't be surprised to read that I had to use Google to help me get it done. I posted what I had to say as a comment (with a typo) and sent it out to amazing 51 people that have followed me from that very first day I registered in hopes that content might eventually follow. 

To keep it simple, I kept my Twitter handle. You see, my Boss didn't use Twitter before I arrived and these months later he's really enjoying it. How do I know? He started playfully greeting me when he arrived in the morning using that nickname. Not gonna lie, when I hear... "Good morning @Rhon2theDee" I instantly smile.

Anyway, wish me luck on the Instagram front. Oh... and ANY help or advice on how to navigate the social media beast is truly appreciated.

LEAF IT TO ME TO PONDER...

Is the leaf lonely... Or simply determined?
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 20th. 2016

I was awoken yesterday morning by my daughter asking if there was an umbrella handy. In a haze, told her where she could find one but wondered what the hell she needed one for.

When I pulled the window blinds, I realized that it was pissing down rain outside. (Never, in all my years, do I remember it pouring rain on the 20th of February.)

As I looked through the massive rain drops that covered my bedroom window, I discovered a site that I could completely relate to. It was a single maple leaf, on the biggest tree in the yard, hanging on for dear life. It instantly made me smile. Not only for its endurance but with my own anticipation of an early spring.

As I stood at my bedroom window, admiring my newest friend, I grabbed my phone to take a picture. When I got to my desk, I realized I hadn’t done the wee chap justice. So, I grabbed my Nikon, threw on my rubber books and bolted outside into the rain. For whatever reason, I stood there looking up and embraced the ice pellets hitting my face.

As you know, I speak openly here about Seasonal Affective Disorder. Looking up at that leaf I realized that's exactly how I cope with the darkness of winter. Alone, and at times feeling as though I am barely hanging on.

So, you can imagine my delight when Friday morning, as I walked to meet the Sweeney-meister, the sun was up; a first. That small sign of light tells me that the end is getting closer, I can feel it. Though the last couple of months have been a tad long and at times lonely, I sense that spring will bring some new and exciting things. As I do every year, I’ll be glad to rekindle old friendships, as well as discover a few new ones.

Yup, for the first time yesterday morning, I reaffirmed a couple of very important things. My last months of perseverance tells me that I am as strong as the leaf in this picture.

Not sure how else to explain a silly instant connection... to a lone leaf.

FROM THE CHEAP SEATS

Boy, I hate to be blind-sided. It doesn’t happen very often but when it does, I always try to truly understand what the hell happened. When hit on the blind side, I immediately ask myself these two questions. Do I stand up for myself and explain? Or, do I take it up the ying-yang and file away the specifics (in this instance, discovering someone's two faced) for future reference? Friday, to ultimately keep the peace, I chose the latter. 

Not gonna lie, the entire incident still has me frazzled. My metaphoric ying-yang took it so bad, that it reminded me of the joke of the old farmer and his wife. You know the one, where he's telling all the other farmers what a romantic guy he can be. Boasting to be such a generous lover that he always utters those three special words to his wife before he makes love to her. His loving words were always... “Brace yourself Gertie!”

Yup, I was poor Gert last Friday and there wasn’t a tube of lube anywhere in sight. The official result of a two-faced blindside. The monster that had roared at me 24 hours earlier, was no longer the bully but the victim. I never saw it coming but reading their words showed me their experience of being in our exact scenario. 

Still brewing from the fact that I folded like a lawnchair, I was stuck. So I sent a BBM message to my buddy A-Rod this afternoon is search of a bit of a reality check. I knew by reaching out, my tale of two faces would not land on deaf ears, and he'd tell me if I was being an idiot. (You see, he takes the gold medal for having dealt with the village idiot for years, so I truly value his opinion.) 

As expected, by the time I left to go home today he’d helped me see the light. Which is that an idiot can’t help themselves. They ultimately have an overwhelming amount of IDIOT in their overall genetic make up. In a nutshell, an idiot is who they are and what they will always remain.

Rhondi Rule #782: Never argue with an idiot. They'll just lower you down to their level, then beat you with experience! 

Truth? Not following my exact advice last Thursday morning is why I was blind-sided.

...Sucks to be right!

MY ONE AND ONLY VALENTINE

Wednesday or Thursday of last week, a coworker asked me if I had anything special planned for my husband for Valentines Day. I simply shrugged my shoulders and quietly mentioned that it's something we've never celebrated. I could tell by the look on their face they were curious, so I told them why. All they could bring themselves to say was that they were sorry. I thanked them for the kind sentiment.

My Momma & Me in Gaspe, Quebec
TAKEN: JULY 1972

I remember it like it was yesterday. It was just past midnight, February 14th, 1987, when the phone rang in my apartment. All my father said was,"your mother's gone." My first reaction was an instant sense of relief; as ALS (more commonly known as Lou Gehrig's Disease) had her suffering for long enough. 

My husband and I were only dating when my mother passed but even if we'd never married, I don't believe that I would ever have taken a Valentine other than my Mom. She was stoic in the end. So brave, though I'm sure she had to of been scared. You see, death was something we were never allowed to talk about when she was ill, that's just how she rolled. If I had to describe the last six months of her life, the one word I would chose, would have to be heartbreaking. 

At my fathers request, I left a good job in the City the May prior so that I could stay with her through the day. I was a waitress in the evenings that summer (for a bit of spending money) but my father needed round the clock help. Out of sheer necessity, he took a six month leave of absence from his job that September but she still needed the both of us. As you can imagine, that time my father and I spent together, changed our relationship for the rest of his life. Our unconditional support for one and other remained in tact until the day he died.

Anyway, I told my coworker last week that I would write about my mom today, as I had every year since I started this electronic journal. I also mentioned that I suspected that she no longer needed to by my Valentine because she'd been reunited with my Dad. 

Having said that, I know there's no written rule that you have to pick and declare only one true love today. So here's hoping you love yours as much as I love mine...As today will always be our day.

Happy Valentine's Day Mom. I miss and love you very much. xoxo

PASS MY PILLOW & AN HTMI CORD!

This past February 1st, I playfully greeted the day by welcoming all of my electronic friends to the shortest/longest month of the year. I found the post to be an exceptionally witty snippet when originally shared, until today. The aforementioned longest part, steamrolled any short comings the month may genuinely provide. 

I'm not quite sure why I'm feeling so lethargic. I am getting lots of sleep and working hard at keeping a well balanced diet. Not to mention that for the first time in the better part of a decade, I'm not even remotely stir crazy.

Could it be me? That no matter what life choices I make, I just naturally want to hibernate? You know ... Hibernate:(verb)

When one hunkers down in the bedroom closet, peacefully wrapped in a blanket, the entire month of February. My more specific version also paraphrases the streaming Sex & The City (while in said closet) as much as possible. 

Definitions of what the hell is happening to me aside, I realized today that I am totally over this stupid month. I guess you could say, it's the 10th and I'm spent. As I wallow in a post of self pity, I completely blame the shortest/longest month for this rant. I really thought when we'd had a green Christmas, I would sail though the months that followed with some grace. Apparently, today has proven that's not an option.

I'm tired, I'm cranky, and as much as the voices in my head tell me not to... I am heading upstairs to find a bag of potato chips to ease my angst. Hmmm, maybe I should add a provision for 'snackage' to my above definition.

Is this how you spell guacamole?  Never mind. Chip dip will fill the bill perfectly.

Thanks again for listening. Oh, and Season 4, Episode 4 starts streaming at 8!

Just sayin'.

OUR 1400 MILE FRIENDSHIP

About a week ago, I receive a selfie from my buddy Darin, announcing that he was finally wearing the Muskoka Bear Wear jacket I'd bought for him when we got together last Labour Day weekend here in cottage country (READ: HAT's A FACT). Not gonna lie, I was truly giddy when he sent the pic to prove he actually got around to finally having to wear it.

You see, Darin lives 1400 miles south of me in New Orleans, Louisiana. The coldest 'winter condition' this lad ultimately endures, is when he needs to turn the heat on in the car for an nano second, to take the chill off in the morning. Brace yourself for this next tidbit snowbound  peeps... Once, or twice, a freakin' season!

I bit of Muskoka officially lands in New Orleans!
TAKEN: JANUARY 28th, 2016

Winter weather envy aside, my post isn’t even remotely about that. It's more about how two people (that live so far apart) can make the effort to remain in touch.

As I mentioned to everyone when he was here last, Darin is an Architect. A very talented one, and one I was teamed together with for a Muskoka project that began in the Spring of 2012.

As the design for that project evolved, we ended up chatting on the phone almost daily. Those calls, combined with the ability to keep in touch via social media, untimely kept us electronically connected. The even bigger deal was meeting in Muskoka at the end of last summer, which was something that we'd only ever talked about.

As you know, timing is everything. No matter who you are, or what you do for a living, you have people intersecting in and out of your life all of the time. Have you ever wondered if there's a 'super sonic all that and then some' formula, that have some stay, while others go? I do. I don't dwell on it per say, yet I've always ultimately wondered.

As a coincidental aside, the morning that Darin sent me this photo, was the day that another electronic friend @MsJennie99 tweeted.... The people you meet by accident are often ones that become an important part of your life. My reply was simple: I couldn't agree more! #TrueStory.

Next up? Rhondi travels to New Orleans and gets herself a hoodie.

Which will obviously be worn by a campfire on a cool Muskoka evening in July!

SHE's BACK ON THE BLADES

For those of you that are new to this silly little electronic journal, I use to figure skate. I’d like to think that my parents kept me so heavily involved because of the sheer raw talent I possessed but that would be a lie. They kept me at the rink and on the road as much as possible, so that I had absolutely no time to focus on boys and dating. You see, my mother had a deep seeded fear that I’d get pregnant. I remember she use to always say to me, “you know Rhondi, once you start doing that (meaning sex) it's not like you’re just able to stop...” Guess what, she was absolutely correct!!

My skating carnival character 'Cookie'
(Appearing in Bracebridge Herald Gazette)
TAKEN: APRIL 1982

As I sit here giggling, I couldn't help but reminisce yesterday as I decided to once again lace up my skates for a Fire & Ice Festival we were having in my wonderful little town. Rummaging through our storage to locate my custom made John Knebli skates, I was trying to remember exactly when the last time was I had laced them up.

I decided that it had to of been one of Jukeboxes’ February birthday parties. If I had to venture a guess, I would say it’d been a little over a decade ago. I could still jump and spin back then but I fear those days are gone. No worries. Because at the end of the day, I am all about life experiences right now and the fact that I wanted to at least try and skate's considered a feather in my proverbial skating cap.

When I was growing up, figure skating and hockey were something that everybody had the opportunity to participate in. I'm not minimizing the expense but it could generally be handled by a one income household. Now, parents almost need to sell a  less talented offspring, as well as a viable organ on the black market, to see the amount of ice time and year round training I received. That said, I always knew from a very young age that I was on a journey my mother never had the chance to take.

The last time I skated, I mean seriously competed, was at an audition for the Ice Capades at Maple Leaf Gardens. We hit the dressing rooms after the show, then officially hit the ice close to midnight. Again, it was my mother that had discovered the opportunity for me and she bullied my oldest brother in to putting us up in the city, coming to the show, then driving us back to Muskoka in the wee hours of that Saturday morning.

After my skate that night, I was offered the ability to apply to appear with their second tier show that toured smaller cities across Canada and the US. All I'll say, is that my skate at Maple Lead Gardens was the last time I truly skated. I gave it up cold turkey about a week later and never looked back. I had finished high school and was working full-time to save. Let's just say the years of being a rink rat had run their course.

I vividly remember that time and the moment I decided to pack my skate bag up for good. I suspect if my mother were alive, she'd attribute the extremely bad decision I'd made to stop figure skating, to all the really great sex I'd ultimately yet to discover. For those of you reading that knew her, you know first hand that she was never wrong.

Peeps, relax. Thirty plus year later, ya most definitely just gotta laugh about it!

THE END OF A FAMILY ERA

Heading home from work this afternoon, the Sweeney-Miester mentioned that she’d like to stop by the grocery store on the way home. We knew that one in particular was advertising 25% off everything store-wide, so we thought we’d check it out one last time. 

I have to be honest. When I walked in the front door, I wasn’t prepared for the scene that unfurled. I wandered in and looked around, then turned to my girlfriend and said... “There’s a lot of personal history here."  Seeing the shelves empty hit me like a ton of bricks.  I instantly held up my phone. 

After I snapped this pic, walked the entire store one last time, bought nothing and quietly ventured home. My point is that we have/soon to be had, a Metro grocery store in our town. You see, it's closing to re-open in mid-March as Food Basics. I understand why they are transitioning but in all honesty, it's quite sad. 

Don't you find it that your life flashes in front of your eyes
...at the oddest times?
TAKEN: JANUARY 28th, 2016 

Gone will be the days of the Fresh To Go and Bakery divisions that employed both my boys through their high school years. Not to mention a legendary group of gals my husband playfully labelled the "Metro Queens" that were my daughters' former cashier coworkers; but that's not our only family history within my post.

Working in that grocery store (then Dominion, eventually A&P, now Metro) was the first full-time summer job I ever had. It was the summer of 1984. 

Large brown paper bags were what us hard working cashiers were then packing in, and ice cream most definitely had to be heavily wrapped twice. Paid in cash via a bank envelope every Thursday, it was a much smaller store back then, and ours was still the largest in our town of a little over 9,000 year round residents at the time. 

As I strolled through the empty store tonight, I couldn't help but think of those shifts when all of my children were scheduled and working in store together. I absolutely loved it. Over those four or five years, Metro was the best teen tracking mechanism any parent could've ever hoped for.

I'm proud they earn the opportunity to work there to save for post secondary life. That said, I know for a fact I never shopped anywhere else all those years, paying more than above average for most items in an effort to support them as well as their employer.

I guess the moral of my post is that I find it very sad, that Metro never put any of those high priced extra profits (that our entire town contributed to) back into a store in dire need of good management.

Shame on them!