MY NEVERENDING QUEST

I don’t know about you, but I've a very challenging and volatile relationship with my aging metabolism. Trust me when I admit that I wasn't even remotely prepared for what midlife did to a woman’s body but will go on the record stating this: It friggin’ sucks!

My rant extinguished, I should say that my weight issue started the winter after my father passed in 2005. Over the next several years, I was in complete and utter denial that I was managing my internal turmoil by self-medicating with food. It took a serious weight gain and a personal commitment from within to regain a much needed balance. I had to dig really deep to rid my body of the processed food toxins that had taken over.

How did I do it? I saw myself in a family photo during the Christmas break of 2011. I was in shock. It was in that very instant that I made a commitment to get my life & my body back on track. Having never done so before, I made (and kept) a New Year’s resolution and on December 31st, 2011 (which is when my quest for my waist officially began).

Let's face it. I only know a very small handful of women my age that are happy with their shape and my theory is simple. Menopause blows, big time. I suppose I could spend the money on liposuction to rid the evidence that I gave birth to 3 children, instead I wear clothes that are generally flattering to my shape, while spending my savings on travelling as much as my work life allows. 

Soaking up the sun in Cabo!
TAKEN: NOVEMBER 28th, 2015

That said, though I'm generally comfortable in the skin I’m in, my upcoming vacation has me tentative for the first time since my quest began. This time last year, I could easily look at myself in my full length mirror, feeling as good about my shape as my disposition would allow.  

This year, not so much. Over the last 12 months I’ve put on some ‘stress weight’ that I am having a tough time shaking. It’s not the type of stress I experienced 10 years ago, more the ‘there aren’t enough hours in a day’ stress; which ultimately opens the door for bad food choices, creating even more stress.

Anyway, as I am officially on my vacation countdown, I tend to daydream more regularly than I normally would. When I wander off, I can feel the hot ocean sun on my face and embrace the serenity of my cellphone being locked in the safe.  The other side of that coin is that I also tend to have the odd nightmare as the time draws closer too. You know the type? When you swear the resort ice cream dispenser is calling your name, or when the resort breakfast station chef asks you how you'd like your eggs? 

I think my time stresses are depleted enough that I can stay away from the ice cream machine but my biggest challenge will present itself when I am asked how I like my eggs.

I keep reassuring myself, that I will not respond how I am truly feeling.

Which is..."I prefer my eggs... IN A CHOCOLATE CAKE!”

Thanks for listening & wish me luck. My waist is gonna need it. 

POPPA's GONNA ROCK INSTAGRAM

Last year around this time, my Boss wandered into my office and announced he was starting to use Instagram. Knowing I'm the social media junkie I am, he was shocked when I announced that it's the only platform I’d never embraced. In hindsight I’m not sure why, because from a very young age I’ve always loved taking photos.

After him coaxing harder for me to step up, I tried to jump start my effort last winter. Yet again, I still didn’t truly grasp the concept and it felt extremely forced. Then, this past Labour Day Monday, I woke at the cottage to watch the sun rise. Just as the sun officially peeked through the trees, I unwrapped myself from my blanket, ran up from the dock, and snapped a picture. For whatever reason, I shared my freshly snapped photo on Instagram. It was like a switch flipped and I realized it was about the moment, and what a specific picture offered me personally in that moment.

Flash forward to the past Canadian Thanksgiving Monday. We get such little time together as a family, I was ecstatic for what the day was going to offer. Anyway, I must have taken 100 pictures that day on our trek of Huckleberry Rock in Muskoka. When I got home, I had so many to choose from I didn’t share any. I did update my personal Facebook page but outside of that, I’ve just sat at my desk since and admired the truly amazing day we shared.

With that, I know my avid readers and friends know about my obsession with the Petro Canada glasses I collect. So none should be surprised at what my favourite Thanksgiving picture is. When we arrived back at the house, I asked my 3 birth children and my 4th child (whom I consider a true member of our family) to enjoy a drink with my Dad.

We did.

My Instagram caption read: My very favourite people on the planet having a drink with my Dad.
Cheers Poppa!! #iloveyou #imissyou #familyfirst #wishyouwerehere
TAKEN: OCTOBER 10th, 2016

For the first time today, I have shared my Petro Canada glass obsession on Instagram. 

Not because they needed to look at a bunch of corny glasses but because my photo resembles the respect we all still have for my father. How even after all these years, he is still very much loved and truly missed. Welcome to Instagram Poppa. I’m sure those peeps will love you as much as my Friends, Tweeps, and Google+ Pals.

Now, if I could only figure out why the bazillion hashtags accompany photos....

I'd be cookin'!

I GOTSTA MY AUTUMN ON!

Last week was somewhat of an exhausting train wreck for me. I stayed up past my bedtime four of the five week nights and therefore ended up in bed by 9pm Friday night. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I have some super sexy social life happening that I feel I am missing out on something extra special, I just don’t remember the last time my body and mind felt the need to sleep around the clock; and I did just that last Friday night.

Well rested, I did my chores, packed the pups and headed to the cottage. On the way out of town, we stopped to pick up peanuts in the shell for the chipmunks, a kick ass steak, and a small yet perfect pumpkin. When I put the pumpkin in the shopping cart I knew that I had definitely hit my stride. With my favorite season in full gear I knew I’d proudly gotten my autumn on.

You know the feeling. The grin that comes over your entire face when you put on your favourite old shirt that you refuse to part with. For me, wearing fuzzy socks and carving a pumpkin have the same effect. Both are part on my internal mechanisms that prepare me mentally for the season of hibernation that’s fast approaching.

Have you gotten your autumn on yet?
TAKEN: OCTOBER 22nd, 2016

Yes, that’s correct, I hibernate. It’s usually in the back bedroom with the covers over my head, curled up with my pups, wearing a couple layers of fuzzy socks, and Netflixs playing a loop of the sappiest chick flicks just released. Once winter hits, from Friday eve to Monday morn, I become as anti-social as a Mama Bear hunkered down in her bunker with her cubs. Should I have to exit, my departure is as swift as my return. Which usually involves a baseball cap and yoga pants, which are two defining elements of my winter wear collection. Even when I ski or snowshoe on Sundays both are included and no makeup is ever in place. 

So, knowing that is ever pressing on my horizon, you can imagine the mania and euphoria that Fall provides. It’s almost like I make every extra effort to bask in all the activities that aren’t an option over our long Canadian winters.

As I type this morning I can’t help but stare out the window at my favourite tree on our property. It’s the one behind me in the pic my husband snapped yesterday. I love it because every year, it’s the last one on our lake to give into winter. Like me, it holds out kicking and screaming. 

Its colour remains brightest the longest, and when I return from my vacation mid December it will still have some of it’s red leaves attached as it simply refuses to conform. Just like me, it pays no attention what the others around it think or do. Why would it? Why should it? Like the tree, my roots are strong and my persistence even stronger. 

So, if you haven’t yet, get the hell outside today and get your autumn on.

I promise you’ll love it …and you can thank me later!

PEANUTS FROM HEAVEN

If you're nice to an animal, it loves you for life. 

If you're nice to a person, who the hell know what's going to happen.

~ Higher Perspectives (via Instagram)

Last summer, our eldest pup Dot had an episode. At that point, we knew she was pretty much on borrowed time. Then, about the middle of August, her temperament really shifted and she became aggressive toward the other pups. In hindsight, I believe that leading a pack of three was taking its toll on both her mind and her body.

So, after an aggressive growling and barking stint on a cottage Wednesday night, it was decided on that coming Saturday we would put her down. With no word of a lie, once those words were uttered aloud, she did a complete three hundred and sixty degree behavioural flip. It was almost like she instinctively understood that we’d decided her gig was up.

Well, more than a year later she’d doing very well. The majority of the time she moves slower than molasses in Muskoka in January but she still has an amazing quality of life. We help boost her into her bed in the bedroom when her hips decide to stay in the living room; but outside of that her disposition is great for a senior citizen.

My challenge with her is that winter is approaching and how do I help her manage in the copious amounts of snow that will fall.  I knew I'd need to keep her mind sharp as well as her feet moving in the house because she won't be able to spend an extended amount of time outside. After careful thought I came up with an answer…peanuts. I figured if she can chase the squirrels outside at the cottage, why can’t she chase them inside around the house.

Dottie waiting by the door for her exercise buddies to return.
TAKEN: OCTOBER 12, 2013

I started with the back deck. She has a dog chaise by the sliding door but when things are cooking she scurries from the deck to the dining room windows, back to the deck, to the living room windows and so on. (This weekend, I am placing a feeder on the big tree below my bedroom window so they can entertain her through the day.)

Not gonna lie, all the dogs have hopped on the bandwagon. I have been feeding the peanut hoarders for a couple of weeks and they will literally come within a foot of the sliding glass door when the last nut has been squirreled. I know some readers will say they are a menace and that they aren’t very smart; but our deck seems to be the hot spot for their buffet this fall. That said, I think they are anything but stupid.

Didn’t take them-thar suckers long to realize food was coming out but the dogs ain’t!

Annie and Puddin' getting in on the action.
TAKEN: OCTOBER 12th, 2016

GIVING THANKS FROM CANADA

Happy Canadian Thanksgiving... As I give thanks to all of you for reading.
TAKEN: OCTOBER 9th, 2016

MY FOOD BANK OF THOUGHTS

Well, it’s that time of year again. When our local economy for tourism dwindles and the plethora of cottagers close up until the lakes open again next year. That said, I think you really have to live here to truly appreciate the seasonality of income and the impact it has on our year round residents.

As you may or may not know, this coming weekend is when Canadians celebrate Thanksgiving. As a result, our Oldtimers hockey team held a food drive last night to help feed our families in need. No one gets paid for their time, nor the resources they provided and their only reward is knowing they are providing a very valuable and much needed community service.

2016 Muskoka Oldtimers Fall Food Drive
TAKEN: OCTOBER 4th, 2016

Short story long, when the knock came to our door last night our three dogs went bonkers. Through the glass in my front door, I could see two young girls wearing hockey jerseys with identifying lanyards draped around their neck. At the end of my drive, a pick-up truck to carry the donations they would have to walk to collect. Immediately, I knew it was the food drive being promoted over the local radio station, so I hollered over the dogs asking them to sit tight as we gathered our items.

As we wandered back up from the door and glanced out our kitchen window, we noticed the girls were headed next door. My husband joked that “they’d give way better stuff than us,” so we watched. We could see our neighbour, whom had done an extravagant exterior landscape renovation this past summer, speaking with the girls. Then, for some very personal reasons I’m sure, closed their door and sent them away empty handed. We were in shock.

After about 10 minutes of dialogue, we realized our opinions on the matter had us racing to the bottom. Bitching about what we’d witnessed wouldn’t make a difference, yet packing up another bag of food on our neighbours' behalf, just might help feed another family in need; which is exactly what we did.

We bolted down the street, explained why we wanted to give more, and I asked the girls if I could take their picture. Not to point out the glass half empty but to post and thank all of the students, parents, grandparents, uncles, sisters, cousins, brothers, for their servitude. 

I know last night I announced to my Facebook friends that I was feeling a rant coming on, which is probably what they were expecting to read. Instead, after a good night sleep and some reflection, my mindset has changed. A day later, I have reduced my emotions to a 50/50 race between hope and karma. 

Hope, yes I definitely felt hope last night. Young people giving back, working hard and staying positive and the majority of the community working together. Yet after what I witnessed from my neighbours, the other side of my brain is pulling an equally strong Karma vibe. 

Guess only time will tell on all fronts.

Thanks for reading.

MY QUIRKY COLLECTION OF CRAP

I was originally suppose to be home staining the exterior of the house this weekend. Then, toward the end of the week, Mother Nature decided to forecast light rain for the entire weekend. Not wanting to lose valuable outside chore time, I figured I could burn brush at the cottage instead.

Well, it became evident early Saturday morning that it wasn’t going to rain. So, we bolted into town to pick up a couple of items we needed for next week. Like I do most Saturday mornings, I headed to the Habitat for Humanity Re-Store to check for the couple items of crap I collect. No glasses for my Dad, yet I did score another edition of Trivial Pursuit for my Mom. (I think that brings me to 10 unique versions).

Standing at the checkout, I bumped into my high school physics teacher. We had attended an event together this past summer and it was nice to see he and his wife again. They admitted to be Re-Store regulars too, as they refurbish and sell antiques. Anyway, when he noticed I didn’t score any glasses, he asked about the game. I explain that Trivial Pursuit was not only my Moms favourite game but mine too.

That said, I went on to explain to he and his wife that I am the polar opposite to a pack rat. That I do a clean sweep of my home and cottage twice a year and if I haven’t needed or used items in the prior six months I get rid of them. Then I said... “Look, whether you believe it or not, I am very particular about the crap I collect.”

Without missing a beat, he quickly replied, “I can tell. Just look at your husband!”

These are a few of my favourite things!
TAKEN: SUMMER of 2016

The four of us immediately burst into laughter. My husband acknowledged the quip as a good one, and I acknowledged that 30 years later, we are in fact the others most cherished collection. 

You know what? It’s spur of the moments like the one I experienced yesterday that once again confirms the notion that I have always believed; it really is the small moments in life that make things memorable. 

That, and if nothing else… 

Ya Gotta Laugh About It…!

A COUPLE MORE REASONS WHY

For the last number of months, I had been talking with a really fab co-worker about a milestone birthday she had approaching. Though I repeatedly tried to convince her that she was worthy of a kick ass destination celebration, she'd decided to take some time off and celebrate in a very low key fashion. 

Well, from her announcing that 'low key was she' mindset, every chance I got, I encouraged her to pack up her man and get on a plane.  Short story long, when they decided to bolt to Jamaica, I squealed with sheer delight.

A tad puzzled by my overzealous reaction, I explained my story that all of you regular readers are all too familiar with. That my mother died at the young age of 57, which has left me with a very deep (and somewhat distracting energy) to embrace adventure; which includes getting as many different stamps in my passport before I arrive at the age when she passed.

I don’t know what it is... but the thought or news of death rocks me to the core.

Trying to ensure my mother shared our day...
TAKEN: JUNE 1988

I’m not sure if it’s because I started experiencing death from a preteen age, or it's the long standing deep seeded feeling I have that I will die young. Either way, the last couple of days have affirmed what I've believed since my mother passed in 1987; life is short and be sure not to let it pass you by.

Why so reflective? In the matter of 24 hours, two young lives were lost in the small town which I live. One was the age of my eldest and the son of a friend I went to high school with, the other a business acquaintance that occupied my Sales & Marketing lane. One was somewhat expected due to illness, the other, my lane occupier, was a very sudden loss that has left a large part of our community in shock. 

As I began searching for a photo to accompany my post, my thoughts immediately shifted to my Mom. In turn, I rummaged though boxes, dusting off all of the proofs from my wedding day in 1988. Out of the blue I remembered asking the photographer to take pictures of me with the last photo I have of my mother before she became ill.

When I was done reminiscing over all of the proofs, I realized something. In almost 100% of the photos taken at the house, her picture is propped on the handmade coffee table my brother made, as well as her last Lazy Boy chair is in sight. I honestly never noticed that detail until tonight.

I can't believe it. Almost 30 years later, how amazing is that?

PS: I couldn't help but put the photo focus on my Mama.

Mom and Me with my Jr. Bridesmaid Joni.
TAKEN: JUNE 1988

WHATCHA TALKIN’ BOUT WILLIS

Well, it’s official. Today marks the first day of Autumn.

Though I am quick to admit that it’s my favourite season, I loathe what the last six weeks of my fave represent. Shorter days, longer shadows, ending with the grand finale labelled the shortest day of the year. As I embrace the trees glowing in beautiful colour, I truly have to prepare myself mentally for going to (and arriving home from) work in the dark.

To make matters worse, this year marks the earliest I have ever started using my happy lights. Not by months or anything, but when you obsessively track total daylight hours, a week can feel like an eternity; added on to your already light deprived sentence. As of today, it will take all my waking energy to keep me upbeat until I get on my plane into the sun at the end of November.

Whatcha talkin' bout Willis...!
TAKEN: August 6, 2014

Seasonal Affective Disorder whining aside, I wanted to share that I noticed this morning that my move into town is taking its toll on the pups. More specifically, Puddin’.

Just as the change in daylight affects me, her lack of cottage freedom is seriously effecting her. 

When it comes to being at the house, she needs to be tied 100% of the time. Yes, it’s true. This beautiful pups pic is posted on the 'Most Wanted' bulletin board at our local bi-law office. Not because she’s violent or aggressive, just a tad too vocal and enthusiastic when people pass our house; hence why she instinctively knows her gig is up.

As I got myself ready for work before daylight this morning, I noticed her sprawled out on the love seat at the end of my bed. She was lethargic and didn't even bother to lift her head when I tried to cheer her up. As I wandered back into my ensuite, I couldn't help but acknowledge her aloud... "Suck it up, Buttercup," I said.

"... There's absolutely NO money in the budget for you to go into therapy too!"

YA GOTTA LAUGH ABOUT IT.

RISE AND SHINE AND SHE'S GONE

Yesterday was one of those forecasted rainy days that I'd been looking forward to all week. Got my indoor cottage chores done, got my in town shopping chores done, then headed to the salon and had my hair chopped off. Hold your gasps of disbelief, it's not like I ordered a number 3 razor buzz cut. Yet, my long curls that flowed to the middle of my back, are now the shortest they've been since 2012. No regrets here. I'm glad I did it. Just like in other areas of yours truly, I was in need of change.

At this stage in my life, I consider myself blessed. I knock wood because nothing is neither tragic, nor conflicted; though I will admit that some thing's been bothering me for an extended period of time. It was never a great big boulder in front of me, more an annoying pebble in my shoe. For whatever reason, I'd buried that annoyance deep, as well as any ability to deal with it. As part of this next wave of change, I am pleased to report that the pebble has been dealt with .

Like every single person that is reading this electronic journal entry, I have some very serious crap that is buried deep. It's taken me a long time to compartmentalize specifics (which is code for defining a personal coping mechanism) but it works for me. My epiphany was when I recently realized, that over the last 30 years, 25 of mine have been about seeking light at the end of the tunnel, and the last 5 of mine have been the real journey. Those were the years that have been spent learning how to embrace the light that has been chased so hard and earned.

Out of clutter, find simplicity. ~ Albert Einstein
TAKEN: SEPTEMBER 11th, 2016

Speaking of light... I woke in the dark this morning, grabbed my robe and slippers, then headed outside to watch the sun rise. Bundled up, I went up from the dock, grabbed my camera, then snapped my photo at 7:08am. With my moment captured, I finished my coffee, packed everything up, and moved everything home for the season. Not gonna lie, it feels different this year, and finding the words to describe are hard.

If I had to find one word, if I had to choose only one?

I guess I'd just simply define it as... peace.

A YEAR AGO TODAY

Well, today’s September 1st and I'm sitting in my home office at dusk, wearing an over-sized sweatshirt, yoga pants, and a really hideous pair fuzzy socks. As it comes to a close, one thing I do know for certain is that my day was especially cool for a couple of reason. One being when I woke up this morn, the temperature was a balmy 9C. (Which is 48F for all my non-metric focused peeps).

When I rolled over at 5:45am this morning, clicked on my happy light, then simultaneously received an email alert; which is not uncommon for yours truly. You see, a large part of my job is employee relations. As an internal customer service, our payroll software sends out birthday and work anniversary notices to me for everyone within our company, so I may personally offer good wishes. That said, when I picked up my Blackberry this morning, my awaking email cheerfully announced the work anniversary reminder was for... Me!

I posted this to Facebook exactly a year ago today.
(C) IDP Muskoka

The graphic I am sharing was the Facebook cover shot I prepared to announce (a year ago today) that I was transitioning. I remember being both nervous and excited as I walked to meet the Sweeney-Meister and Coop for our very first carpool adventure. A year later, I am grateful for that time we've shared. This last year has evolved into an amazing job, as well as a very important friendship I am grateful for.

You know what? All of that said, temperature wise this morning and this evening may have been cool... But I mentioned today was cool for a couple of reasons.

My 1st official Tamarack North anniversary? 

Pretty freaking cool!

MY SUMMER OF OFFICIAL CHANGE

So much changed for us when this summer was over.
TAKEN: AUGUST 2007

The photo I am sharing popped up as a Facebook memory this past week with a heading that read: 9 Years Ago Today.

I am honest when I admit that in that moment, I fixated on my screen with a weird sense of disbelief. I didn’t share it that morn, rather just looked back at that particular Facebook photo album from that really great family day.

By the time I headed home, the humidex told me that I was going to bolt through town and sleep at the cottage for the night. It was so warm outside that I actually stayed on the dock until dusk. 

As I sat there with the pups, I could hear a gaggle of kids enjoying the new slide their parents had purchased at the start of this cottage season. I could hear the radio playing in the background and the one young lad singing confidently, just the way my children and their visiting friends use to. I immediately daydreamt about just how much I miss my kids coming out here and the year-round fun we’d had since buying the place in 1999.

In the midst of that moment, I took a picture of Annie lovingly listening to the kids playing. Her expression told me that she wished she could be across the lake playing too. So, when I got up this morning, I proceeded to edit the photo only to wonder when the last summer was the kids let me measure their annual height on the door jamb in the downstairs bedroom.

Imagine my surprise when the tallest height read “GOOB 2007”.  Smiling, I immediately ran my index finger to the bottom to find the very first entry. The smallest height reads ‘SWEETIE 2000”. As a matter a fact, she and Jukebox had less than 1” in height difference on that very first measure. The summer of 2007 wasn’t only the last time the measuring took place; it was the very last summer we spent vacation time as a whole family at the cottage.

With all 3 having summer jobs and me working most weekends with my business, I am realizing for the first time this week, that it was that summer in which they'd evolved and began their official transition. From that September, I traveled with them for sports, took them into the city for concerts with friends, but the family oriented times became fewer and farther between. The only constant we managed to keep was our ‘Sunday Suppers’ which only happened because I made it a house rule that everyone be home by 4pm each and every Sunday. 

You know what? As I wandered around the cottage in between typing breaks today, I realized that I have a large plaque on the wall outside the boys bedroom that is titled ‘Life’s Little Instructions’. It offers 53 points of worldly advice. It starts with sing in the shower and ends with #53 stating to call your Mother.

If there’s one thing I can be grateful for (almost 10 years later) it's that they all willingly embrace my phone number. Which is emotional to admit... 

Has not always been the case.

MY BEAUTIFUL SATURDAY SURPRISE

Like everyone I know, I am grateful for the break in humidity, after muddling through two heat waves in as many weeks. It’s cooler this morning, but I still didn’t sleep well last night. I am at the point where I think I may need to start taking a sleep aid. Part of my issue is unplanned stress, the other is the restlessness of the dogs in the night because of the heat; last night was because they slept the day away thanks to the much needed rain.

I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted. I’ve written almost everyday, but I am going through a very personal and somewhat dark time, so my keyboard is getting a bit of a brow beating. The one thing I did want to share, was the amazing day I spent with my daughter last weekend. She has some exciting things happening in her busy life and I love the fact that she is comfortable sharing them in my confidence. I have to say, though she still struggles some days, I am so impressed with how she’s doing. Some well deserved inner peace happening there to say the least.

There's nothing life a day on the dock with your daughter!
TAKEN: AUGUST 6th, 2016

Having enjoyed our day so much, I stopped in to see her at her place of employ in the midst of my cottage commute last week. We laughed and hugged like best friends. You never truly know what life may bring, and at this point in time, she’s the one offering me strength. It really is tough being the “sugar” to everybody’s cup of tea, all of the time. That could be why I talk to myself…. I always treat myself the way I want to be treated.

As I sit at my desk at the cottage, I can’t help but think how many things have changed in my life in the last year. So much so that I am excited, albeit a tad nervous of what’s coming my way in the next year or two. That said, I know there won’t be any expansion of a canine nature. The three I have are a mitt full of work. Matter a fact, right at this very moment, they are playing their very favourite game. It’s called... “How to cram 3 dogs under this desk!”

I guess Annie loses this round, because she’s sitting on Puddys’ head. In no way, shape or form, should she lie beside my chair, as the rules of the game clearly state that you must be UNDER my small desk for the entire time I am working at it. Shame on her for arriving late to the party.

On that note, I only have one other important notable to add this morn.

… Holy 14th of August Batman! I can't believe it's the 14th of August!!

(l-r) Puddin', Dottie & Annie experiencing separation anxiety from Sweetie!
TAJKEN: AUGUST 6th, 2016

MY LONG WEEKEND LAMENT

Like every other Canadian reading this electronic entry, I'm sure you anxiously awaited this past civic long weekend to roll around again. I don't know about you, but I was so sad to see it over, by 9am this morn I knew I would be bolting back out to my cottage in hopes of making my weekend last just a little longer. Not gonna lie, sitting here typing in my swimsuit, I am tickled to report that I made the perfect call.

Were the hell does the time go?
TAKEN: LONG WEEKEND IN AUGUST 2016

Like most empty-nesters, we have a busy summer calendar. Yet, for varying reasons, this particular long weekend landed us short on time. As I sit here looking up from my laptop, I find it hard to believe just how quickly the season's flying by. With our fall vacation booked and the summer nights getting cooler, I can’t help but start to shift my focus onto our plans to renovate the exterior of our home is September.

I don’t have an issue with what has to be done, but I do know my husband works about 55 hours a week and the last thing he wants to do is swing a hammer and run a table saw. I’m not kidding when I say, he has no issue watching me work outside. Actually, I get angry when he feels he need to pitch in. I sit at a desk for 9 or 10 hours a day. He does not. He has an extremely physical job. When it happens that I do need his help, I’ve always given him the choice of what task he wants to tackle. I handle the others.

When we arrived at Orillia Lake Friday night, I gave him a run down of every crappy indoor & outdoor task I wanted to accomplish. It was up to him to pick one. Little does he know that the rest of the list was filled with things he truly hates doing more than swinging a hammer and running a table saw; so our solid effort and teamwork saw the outdoor shower relocated. If I'm being honest here, which I always am, it's the one thing I truly wanted done. I know it may be construed as sneaky to admit that I stacked the list... but at the end of the day the choice was his.

How the hell was your weekend? Mine seems to still be in full swing. Matter a fact, at this rate, it may last until the end of next weekend. First thing on the list for me to work on then?

A much better tan!

BITCHY WIFE 1 - HUSBAND 0

Unless you’ve been hiding under a rock the last few weeks, I’m sure you have been experiencing this amazing summer weather. With the majority of my evenings and weekends being spent at the cottage, accomplishing my outdoor/yard type chores at home's suffered. So much so, that when my husband got home from work this eve, he put his hands on his hips and felt the need to announce just how long the grass had grown.

As you can expect, unconsciously, his comments didn't stop. I felt bad for Jukebox, because he obviously felt jammed in the middle. In turn, though it was very amiable dialogue, I sensed he felt the need to apologize that the lawn wasn't cut. As I've said before, and I'll say again: I sit behind a desk all day. I love the exercise/fresh air of working in the yard, and have zero expectation that I receive any help with said chores. I suppose I do have one small caveat to disclose, which is, don't look a great big stinkin' gift horse in the mouth!

Anyway, by the time he'd made it into the house, his steady rant of comments resonated and I started to laugh. When he asked me what was so funny, I told him that I could go to into my home office and send a shout out to Facebook, asking if there was anyone that wanted to come on over and help me mow my lawn. He didn't know what to say....

"Hell, I figure I have at least one buddy that wouldn't hesitate to head over and start-a-mowing," I said. Then continued..."But I fear they may only agree if you'd hang around, have a beer & watch us do it!"

Not another word was said. Cool as a cucumber, I got out of my dress clothes, hooked in my headphones, and opened the garage door. Suffice is to say that my photo illustrates exactly how my lawn officially got mowed this eve. 

Who says a bitchy wife needs to lose their temper to get what they want? Not this cat!

I always knew having two kickass lawn mowers would come in handy!
TAKEN: JULY 25th, 2013

WHO THE HELL KNEW?

In early stages of my electronic journal, I asked a simple question to the Ya Gotta Laugh About It masses (of about 35 readers) which was: do you ever feed an expired parking meter?

It was a quirky post about acquaintances that drift about your life at their leisure, then went on to explain how an acquaintance differs from a friend. Short story long, I ultimately categorized them as parking meters whose egos ultimately need to be fed. 

All of that said, a prior business acquaintance fed my expired meter yesterday. Out of the blue, my phone beeped touting those words that always make me curious... 'howdy stranger!' I smiled because I was perplexed, the number wasn't in my phone, so I immediately googled the area code that appeared on my screen. When the location appeared, I knew it had to be someone I hadn’t spoken to face to face since last summer, nor had a text message from in months. I must admit, not only did it feed my ego, it was a very pleasant surprise.

Pleasant surprise or not, I immediately wondered where the hell they got the cash to feed my meter. When I asked them what was up, they explained I had crossed their mind as they'd traveled to an old supplier we both use to sell for. What ensued next, was a great electronic conversation. Even though I no longer work in the industry, it was like I’d never left. Mission accomplished; my ego had been fed.

At the end of the day he asked about a mutual acquaintance we had. Someone he had met through me in the summer of 2012. It was that very inquiry that made me think of the parking meter post from 2011. I told him where I was at with this acquaintance he all these years later he only had four works in return. “I told you so,” was all I read.

Funny thing is? As acquaintances go, I honestly knew he was right about them in 2012.

Who the hell knew parking meters were so observant... and I,so gullible!

Medford, Wisconsin.. Where I met the industry person that fed my parking meter today.
TAKEN: OCTOBER 2011

HOW DID YOU SPEND CANADA DAY?

Friday started like any other summer long weekend in Muskoka, with the downtown crammed by transient traffic. Great for our local economy, crappy for yours truly. As luck would have it, I didn't have a chance to get everything I needed to land at the cottage and stay until it was time to head back to work Monday morning. So, like all other cottagers do when it rains, I loaded my ass into the car and headed into town to shop.

Fighting the masses seemed worse than I remember. The more it rained, the busier it got. No surprise there, just forgot how many people really flock to town when there's nothing else to do at the cottage. As I said, I wasn't surprised by the weather, more disappointment. I had planned on staying to do the yard work at the house, then take my daughter out for dinner, and tag along with her to the fireworks display. As my lack of luck would have it, by mid afternoon, I hiked it back out to the lake in the rain, climbed into the downstairs bed, and took a nap.

Selfie on the upstairs deck in the pouring rain!

TAKEN: JULY 1st, 2016

I don't know about you, but Canada Day has always been a really big thing for me. So much to be grateful for and an occasion we really do embrace as a country.

As this year would have it, none of the littluns decided to venture out to Orillia Lake but that made no matter to me. As tradition served, I still got my riggin' on, as if they would have come out.

The my other wee smidge of sorrow this year?  Not only did I miss the fireworks with Staccs & the kids decided to stay in town. I discovered that I regretted purchasing the funky flag sunglasses perched at top my melon in my pic. In hindsight, I should have grabbed that neat unbrealla hat made out of a Canadain flag.  That way, my hair and makeup would have been protected from the down pour of celebratory elements.

Either way, overall, I had a really great day.

Happy 149th  Birthd'eh Canada.

A LETTER TO MY DAD

Dearest Dad,

Well, it was 11 years ago today you left me. Where the hell has the time gone?

For obvious reasons, you've been on my mind this month. So, out of the blue, I mentioned our 11th anniversary at work yesterday. Then, when I got home tonight I realized nothing tells someone you love them more than writing them a letter; so here you have it.

As you know, the kids are doing great. I wish you could chat with them, laugh with them, one more time. You’d be so very proud. I know I talked to you often when Sweetie was out West, and though she's still healing, I am pleased to report she's finally found her stride. Both the boys are working hard and finding great individual success, which I know won't even remotely surprise you. I will admit that as parents, it seems a tad surreal to be simply standing at the sidelines and watching. Then again, as empty-nesters, more good news as we too have finally found our way.

I'm enclosing some updated photos of the crew. The one of Sweetie and Goob was taken last week when we met for lunch, the one of Jukebox & his Dad was taken when we traveled with friends to Mexico for my last birthday. I'd attach an updated picture of me, but just like Mom, I always seen to be behind the lens of a camera.

Goob & Sweetie                                                   Hubby with Jukebox.
TAKEN: APRIL & JUNE 2016

Finally, not looking to avoid the subject, I've nothing to report on my siblings. As you predicted when we did your will, everything unfurled exactly as you expected. That said, just as I use to worry about that 911 call you begged me never to make, I've reconciled myself to the fact that the right thing's happened in both scenarios. I will admit, I find it a tad surreal. You know, how we both ultimately kept our dignity. Yours in your choice of how you wanted to die, and mine in life. You'd be proud of how we've risen above it all. We've just kept our course... and let all the other stuff go. 

Well, I guess I should run. We miss you Dad. We miss you a lot... All five of us.

Every. Single. Day.

Love always,

Rhondi

MY ANNIVERSARY NEGOTIATION

Well, this past weekend was my wedding anniversary. Although the year we celebrated isn’t officially represented by a gemstone, my friends at Google tell me that couples hitting the milestone, tend to mark the day with amethysts and orchids. We didn’t go the jewelry and flower route, instead we sent the money on how we’d decided to spend the day.

On that note. When my husband asked how I wanted to recognize our day, we bounced a couple of ideas off each other. Once I realized that we were miles apart on how we’d celebrate, I told him what I truly wanted; to repair the dock at the cottage. In all honesty, he really didn’t want to that (as he HATES any/all type of his handyman duties) but after a spurt of my begging, he reluctantly agreed.

I don’t care what anyone says, any marriage takes a boatload of work. That work, produces varying reasons for ultimate success. For us, one of the reasons that we have been successful all these years, is that we’ve always been willing to communicate and negotiate with one and other. For example, in the past when expressing a need to clear & burn brush at the cottage, his standard reply would be, “I’ll man the fire for you, if we can listen to the ballgame on the radio.” 

Knowing how he hates handyman duties I would always agree, though I truly hate baseball. In my eyes, no pain not gain, and my yard work result was always a win/win. So, suffice is to say, I wasn’t the least bit surprised when this past weekend dock repair came with a caveat. “I’ll help fix the dock …If we finally get rid of the slide!”

Now, he knows that I am completely and unequivocally attached to that sucker. I watched my children grow up on it, and with them grown and gone I still enjoyed it quite a lot. I know he offered that up as a condition, so that I’d say... “No way. Let’s go golfing down south!”

My good ole girl is down!
TAKEN: JUNE 11th, 2016

My only comment? I wish each and everyone of you could have seen the look on his face when I agreed.

The only downer was that when we were disassembling my ole friend, one of her legs fell off and dropped to the bottom of the lake. Out of respect, I let her spend the night on her side, stretched out on the dock. With any loss, I’ll have to reflect and figure a few things out.

…Like what I'm going to have to negotiate to get my husband to put her back up next weekend!

ONE MORE GONE... AGAIN!

A smidgen over a year after returning to Ontario, our daughter once again moved out on her own last Friday. It had been something she wanted to do since arriving, yet finding reliable full-time work in this one horse town, became her challenge. When she did find a solid job, the hours were so erratic that all she did was sleep to stay functioning (so moving out, understandably hit the back burner). As a result, craving her independence, personal space and sanity, over this past winter she'd spend nights on the couch at her twin brothers house to simply escape the 'rents'. Now that she's officially relocated, is it bad to admit that the feeling was mutual? 

Five years ago I didn't know what to do with my time. Now, I find there aren't enough hours in a day to accomplish all the things I want to experience. To put things into perspective, the first time she moved 50 miles south, I cried for what felt like months. This #9 time? I took yesterday to myself and this morning I landed home to clean the spare room and move my work clothing into the spare closet & dressers. A mere 48 hours later, I had cleaned and reconciled the clutter and was extremely grateful to have my dressing room back.

Her leaving resembles my general opinion of my life thus far, which is there will always be evolution. We outgrow people, we outgrow jobs, and we most certainly outgrow circumstance. Yet, never, ever, in a million years, would I have predicted that our children would outgrow us; and vice versa. In no way shape or form does it mean we don't love one another, it just means to stay unconditionally in love with each other, there needs to be a mutual respect of boundaries and a pinch of distance to make the love affair effortless.

Happy 24th Birthday Staccs & Goob... We love you very much.
TAKEN: JULY 1992

Anyway, for those of you that are connected to the twins on social media, you know that this past weekend was their Birthday weekend. YUP, 24 years ago this week, at 8:33am & 8:36am they officially entered our world. They were two weeks early and both greeted the world a sneeze under 7lbs each. When I look at the photo I'm sharing, it almost look surreal. That our journey of raising them, and letting them go, at times feels like a bit of a dream.

All these years later they remain as close as they were as children, they have solid friendships they've nurtured since Kindergarten, are both hardworking, very responsible, and have grown and evolved into very good and loving people.  

So I'll officially wish them both the very best on their day & add one very loving caveat. 

Happy Birthday to my wonderful children....That no longer live at home!

ONE PERSON'S TRASH...

You must have heard the saying, ‘one person’s trash is another person’s treasure.’ For me personally, I always use to say it before I'd enter a Goodwill store AND I have a girlfriend that references it when speaking of her once divorced spouse before they wed. Either way, the verbiage quoted above applied to my daughter and I this past weekend as we hit the local yard sale circuit.

With my daughter moving into her new digs on June 1st, and yours truly in search of a good (new to me) lawn mower, I suggested we blitz the town last Saturday. Our first stop found me at the home of an old high school teacher, that in the day coached the BMLSS golf team. 

Though I left her yard without the mower I was in search of, I scored two new additions to my golf bag. Even more astounding, I couldn’t believe that she was only asking $5.00 for each. When, for the very first time I offered more yard sale cash than was being asked, she simply replied “I was telling my husband that there comes a time when you have to decide which clubs in the golf bag stay, and which you feel you can finally let go of." 

Elated, I said…”You'll be very pleased to know they are going to a very loving home!”

I'm gonna need balls... I am in 3 tourneys in June alone!!
TAKEN: MAY 28th, 2016

Next stop, again no lawn mower. Instead, it had me build on the new to me 9 & 11 wood (short game gems) I’d just acquired.

As I handed the gentleman my toonie for his dozen used golf balls, his comment was a matter a fact. “I see you immediately went for the good stuff.” He was correct.

Anyway, landing home without what I was initially in search of, has me throwing this cosmic question out to the masses of my electronic journal. Would anyone care to mow my lawn? 

You see, I’ve been doing it myself for the last number of years, which apparently is no longer going to be my option.

Why? …Because I’ll be too busy on the golf course.

I, SPY, WITH MY ONE GOOD EYE...

I believe that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. A personal affirmation of what one truly sees, feels and appreciates for themselves. Those thoughts are theirs to cherish as they see fit, as any perceptions of beauty are ultimately personal.

As you know, for the last number of years, everything's become a great big blur in my everyday life. Tired of the strain and frustration, I bit the bullet, picked up the phone and finally went for an eye exam after work today.

If my pic looks remotely blurry, call for an eye exam!
TAKEN: OCTOBER 10th, 2015

Though it had been a while since I was last checked for specs, it felt nice to know I was still a valued client. Considering how some approach business in Muskoka, I was a tad surprised by the aforementioned but even more impressed when my Optometrist made a point of welcoming me back. 

Truth is, I didn't think he'd even remembered my name and imagine my surprise when he causally asked..."Do you have any idea when the last time was you were in to see me?"

I guessed but was wrong. I was off by a couple of years. Off the top of my head I predicted 30 years. He confirmed it had been mere 28! 

No matter how many decades had passed, I obviously knew who he was. He, on the other hand, hadn't a clue who'd booked his 5pm appointment. I was nervous, as this was something I truly didn't want to do, and was convinced by the time I left, he thought I was a complete and total loon. (The good news is, everyone reading already knows I'm a loon, so we'll label the good doc hyper-instinctive, and move on.)

After he emailed me some very sexy pictures of my eyeballs, he explained my prescription, and we were done. He mentioned that he'd like me to return in a year. Then, without missing a beat, he said... "So I'll see you next year, or sometime in the next 28!" 

We laughed and I thanked him for his time.

After I left, I did have one question. Why didn't he try and sell me a pair of glasses? 

My guess is that I paid $125.00 for my appointment today and that's the only cash flow he'd seen from me in 336 months. As we all know in Business, time is money. So, in his world, does that make me a tire kicker?

Here's hoping he'll be generally empathetic and labels me..."optically challenged."

MY INNER ANGST

Well, here we sit. It’s the tail end of the long weekend in May and this is officially longest stretch I have ever gone without writing. Last time it was because I wasn’t sure I wanted to continue my electronic journal journey, this time it’s that I've been fashionably embracing the sheer excitement of spring. You know that swag, when no matter what you're wearing, it's always complimented by a smile.

As you can imagine, my change in seasonal mindset has kept me on my toes. So much to do at the house, with equally as much to getting the cottage open, and my very busy social life getting the last sliver of free time available. Like most people my age, I still have a level of inner angst that I will miss something that may be worthy of being embraced. As I've written before, in some way, shape, or form, I believe that need for adventure is connected to the fact that my mother passed at 57.

Found 500 pecos in my bathing suit bag I moved this weekend.
It'll stay on the cottage fridge to remind me of Mexico
TAKEN: MAY 21st, 2016

As a result, I am always saving and planning. Trips, concerts, sporting activities, dinner parties; you name it and I'm on it.

With a wide range of activities planned until I leave for my fall trip to the Bahamas, the focus outside of those will be upgrades at the cottage.

This weekend had us complete the installation of a new pressure tank and hot water heater. Then, beginning next weekend, all the decks and stairs will be resurfaced. Lots of elbow grease to be exercised, which is fine by me.

Though we have a deck and dock expansion planned for July, I am most excited to build a new retaining wall along shore. Moving all the material in will be a bitch but after that I'll get to wade in the water, work, and suntan. A much better task than rebuilding the old outhouse which is something my husband keeps mentioning.

I get that it's currently a bit of an eyesore but the good news is that because I am the keeper of the list, I am pleased to report that particular renovation is only a topic of conversation and not currently earmarked as an official project.

...Which is where it will stay if I can keep adding to the list!

Z IS FOR ZEALOUS

Well, here you have it. I’ve arrived at my last letter of the alphabet and I would be remiss if I didn’t give massive props to the zealous electronic friendships I have out of New Orleans, Louisiana. As I've written before, I was fortunate enough to begin working with this amazing crew of Architects in the spring of 2012. Four years later, our witty repartee's still going strong.

About my pics. It was just a regular work day last Friday when just before 4pm, my phone buzzed and the tone told me it was WhatsAp reaching out to me. I opened my message to find this amazing photo of Darin and Mr.T (below) soaking up the rays, as well as the tunes, at the New Orleans Jazz Festival. I was ecstatic!

That's Darin in the ball cap (which he bought while visiting me last September).
TAKEN: APRIL 27th, 2016 ~ NEW ORLEANS JAZZ FESTIVAL

The pic on the left was the first one Darin sent and the one on the right was sent shortly thereafter. You see, he wanted to let me know there was a huge Canadian flag flying high right in front of him. We joked that it was a sign that I was there in spirit and because I don't drink beer, I gave him explicit instructions to enjoy my share in my absence.

Like anything in life, electronic friendships take effort to maintain. I speak from experience when I write that the electronic friendships that offer the most zeal, are those where both set of texting thumbs work equally hard to keep in touch. Thanks for sharing with me last Friday Darin... As soon as you sent me the video of your surroundings, I couldn't stop smiling. It was like I was truly spending the afternoon with you in New Orleans. 

Everyone else, thanks again for reading. As I've formally finished the April A-Z Blogging Challenge... Allow me to introduce you to my very good friend, the month of May!

Y IS FOR YES-SIR-REEE

Just before my 50th Birthday.
TAKEN: March 2015

How To Feel Fab By 50

1. Forgive someone from your past.
2. Travel by yourself.
3. Quit the job you hate.
4. Find your personal mantra.
5. Conquer your biggest fear.
6. Treat yourself to something you really want.
7. Be a mentor for someone you know.
8. Make a fool of yourself without feeling embarrassed.
9. Stop apologizing for who you are.
10.Most of all... forgive yourself.

Life is short.

X IS FOR XERODERMA

So, it's the typical A-Z home stretch. I'm tired, my ideas have pretty much dried up and I am faced with some of the hardest letters to write about. All day long I was texting and asking people to help me with a word for my letter. Every man replied with x-rated and our female health & safety supervisor went with xylophone. Call me old fashioned (and sheltered with regards to the latter) but I didn't have a picture of me wholeheartedly participating in either of those very exciting activities.

Totally blocked, I got home and started to look through my pictures for inspiration. I came across a neat pic that I had forgotten I'd snapped after I'd bought myself a cute jewelry piece on vacation a couple of weeks ago. With a lack of creative juices flowing, I shook my head for inspiration and searched for a hybrid work like x-ceptional, or x-cellent. Instead, I found myself passing on the pic and heading to google for a word and some creative direction.

Low and behold, my chosen word tonight immediately jumped off the monitor at me. I figured the last 5 letters had me headed back to the picture of my new bracelet but I had to open the picture again just to be sure. BINGO, I immediately realized that I'd hit the mother load.

Can you believe I always thoroughly moisturize...? Damn xeroderma!
TAKEN: APRIL 4th, 2016 

I'm sure you don't give a rats ass about my xeroderm (aka: dry skin) but two things were skillfully accomplished by choosing that very word. I got to officially show off my new silver piece I brought home from Mexico and I've officially completed my 24th post.

BOO-YA... 24 down and only 2 to go!

Thanks for hanging in there with me. It's greatly appreciated.

W IS FOR WISDOM

Spit polished, loaded up, and ready to GO!
TAKEN: APRIL 16th, 2016

The weekend before last I did what any avid golfer does in the spring, I hauled my babies out of the laundry room, took their protective gear off and gave them an exclusive spa treatment. What can I say, I love this time of year. For me, it tells me to put away my snowshoes, gather with friends, hit the snot out of a little ball & swear a lot. I'm kidding; I really only ever swear a little!

I'm not a great golfer but I love to golf. The sad truth is that I never got in a single round last year. It was a very transitional spring for me and I lived at the cottage all summer. I find I'm in a different mind space when I live at the cottage full time. My chair on the dock rides shotgun and my golf clubs tend to occupy the backseat. Well, with me working full time again, I am excited to get back to my Friday night ritual of walking 9 holes. Not only because it helps me decompress from the week I've had, walking gives me the much needed workout I crave from having a desk job.

I understand the sport isn't for everyone. It's usually something you either love or hate. I was asked by an engineer at work the other day why I'm so drawn into the sport and I think he was surprised at my response. "Golf is one the rare sports in which you truly compete against yourself," I said.

"When I run into someone that cheats at golf," I continued... "I know I've met someone that doesn't hold themselves accountable but more importantly, they're not being honest with themselves about their surroundings."

Some would say those words seem full of wisdom. Guess it depends how you play golf.

V IS FOR VINYL

I know I've written here before that I remember the first time I fell in love with the music of The Eagles. It was 1976 and if I close my eyes I can see my oldest brother setting the needle down on his new turntable to hear Hotel California for the very first time. If I focus on that moment, we were in his room. I can see his bright yellow t-shirt... Then, he simply dropped the needle. The rest is history.

I think I have been very fortunate to have had a mother that embraced vinyl, as well as to have lived within a generation where some of the best music of all time was produced. 

My mother was extremely proud of her collection of 78's and 33 1/3 albums. Yours, truly?  At best, I was always glued to a sparse 45rpm budget. One at a time with big breaks in between purchases. 

As I got older, my money went toward the purchase of a walkman and the trusty cassette tape, then its CD compatible counterpart, eventually graduating to downloading. Yes, I also have a satellite radio subscription and a kick ass pair of computer speakers should I like to watch and listen on YouTube BUT...

The honest truth is that vinyl owned my childhood my will always have my heart.

We've just acquired more than 600 vintage vinyl records. It's going to be a GREAT summer!
TAKEN: MARCH 26TH, 2016