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.