A DECADE & SOME DAYS

Well, this past weekend was a busy one. In hopes of the five of us getting together for at least five minutes to say hello, my daughter made a reservation at Goobs' restaurant for Friday night.

When we picked Jukebox up at his place, he was curious what the special occasion was. There really wasn’t one other than I needed to get our smiling faces together. Sadly that didn't happen because his kitchen serves really amazing authenticate Mexican food and they were turning people without a reservation away at the door. He was jammed.

Though I missed seeing Goob, dinner timing was a perfect prelude to my husband helping Jukebox move to his new digs the following day. When they finished moving him, they in turn fetched things gifted by my mother in law, which had us taking a new bed and much needed larger dresser into the garage furniture inventory. 

All day Saturday, while everyone was busy moving, I enjoyed doing a good fall housecleaning and my annual purge of unnecessary crap that had officially slowly congregated without my consent. That exercise had Sweetie ending up with a bag of clothes she'd left behind and some ‘new to her’ furniture, while Jukebox was unexpectedly gifted the leather sofa we haven’t sat on in five years (all in great shape, just no longer needed as I continue to downsize).

Cleaning out the remnants of the older dresser being gifted, I came across a bunch of photos in a envelope in the bottom drawer. Most I looked at were cut to be placed in a specific frame but over time they’d been replaced with another. The one I am sharing today was taken a decade and some days ago.

I remember this day. We had traveled 100 miles south to a popular amusement park with our three kids and twenty or so of their friends. We'd chartered a small bus and had an amazing day. I remember it as particularly special because it was a time when the last thing our children wanted to do was spent time with us. 

So much has changed since then. All three are fiercely independent and I am proud that the days of back-filling their finances are over. I think the biggest change is the one I see in myself. Though I text with them almost everyday, my need to be a helicopter mom is gone and my constant hovering has finally ceased.

That said, I am so blessed that this picture and the thousands of others I cherish represent just a fraction of the wonderful memories we have created together. All a part of my consistent attempts to model and support each into the very best version of themselves. 

In hindsight, I feel I always tried to be unconditionally supportive whilst balancing being the unbelievable queen size bitch they all know I can still be; the foundation of my almost 30 year formula that's officially resulted in my own personal independence.

...Still hard to fathom that something I'd truly resisted for the last decade's so amazing.

Yet another life lesson for Rhondi.

THE BEST CATCH OF ALL

I don’t know about you but lately life has been crazy busy for me. Not that it normally isn’t, it’s just that there has been a day or two in the last month I wish I could have coasted just a teenie weenie bit.

A tad over-tired, I may have beeen cranky a stitch but I’m not complaining. Though I've been busy, I am looking forward to a tropical fall vacation I booked last week with some great friends the first week of December. I am venturing back to Riveria Maya to meet up with the British pals I met last year, bringing other cool Canadian peeps for them to meet. I honestly can't wait.

Tropical vacation news aside, the point of my post is that at the end of last week I spent three days and two nights away from home on a team building excursion I'd had the pleasure of planning for the guys at work. It was a fishing trip and we traveled a little more than 2 hours northwest of Muskoka.

Grateful to be rewarded with one big team event a year (last year a Christmas Gala at Deerhurst Resort) this year the goal was to appease the angler in all of us.  Our team occupied the entire fishing resort on the French River. The difference between last Christmas and last weekend? What you saw was what you got.

Not a single male employee worried if their shirt and tie matched their fishing rod, nor did anyone comment that my very sexy flip flops clashed with my sweatshirt.  As I said repeatedly over the course of the 3 days, with close to 70 in attendance, "...everyone that was there, truly wanted to be," which in itself is very powerful and motivating.

Every single person on the leadership team got as much out of the experience as the newest employee; which speaks to why we stand so strong. From a personal perspective, thanks to my bestie floating me his company ball cap off his head at 1am Friday morn, as I only put product my hair once in three freaking days. For the first time ever, the team saw me as myself. No hair nor makeup, always smiling, with my very sick sense of sarcasm as sharp as a bag of razor-blades. For me, the entire experience was absolutely and unequivocally bat shit crazy amazing!

Oh, I should mention that though I did many mange to go fishing for about an hour late Friday afternoon (with my favourite carpenter and our company mascot Charlie) I didn't catch a thing. What I did land was the best catch of the entire event; the Saturday morning sunrise.

In my opinion it was much better than the $200 bucks awarded for biggest fish.

Because for me...it was PRICELESS.

Thanks, Wolseley Lodge.... We ALL had a blast!
TAKEN: SEPTEMBER 16th, 2017

A MILLION WONDERFUL WORDS

Well, it poured rain the majority of this past long weekend.

Ignoring the 14 day long term weather forecast, a couple of weeks ago I decided to book a vacation day for today, hoping in the off chance it might eventually clear. That said, I wasn't surprised this afternoon when my good nature & cheery disposition were out of sorts.

When I woke this morn it was very apparent that summer's ending quicker than I could have ever expected. Though I’ve always faithfully flown an “I love fall” banner, the almanac this year's reporting that the snow will arrive mid-October and not leave until the lakes open next spring; which is probably why I fired the stupid thing straight into the wood stove to fuel my cast iron tea kettle!

Feeling my summer separation anxiety bordering a full-blown panic attack (per the annual norm) I looked to what soothes me best; the thousands of wonderful photos I have taken this season.

It may not have been the best summer weather on record but I managed to find me a stitch of mischief to get into, an above average amount of family fun to embrace, whilst soaking up some serious weekend downtime.

AMAZING memories were created in-spite of the plethora of rain we've received this season.
TAKEN: SUMMER 2017

Let’s see, record rainfall aside, the coles notes version starts with the fact that that I managed to get a killer tan. In addition to that earth shattering news, I stayed up well past my past by bed time, not once but three times.

I broke my toe jumping into the shallow end of a pool that didn’t have a deep end, and I managed to get Dot out in the boat that floats in between lightening strikes. She was estatic; the two I left behind, not so much.

I was blessed to attended the most beautiful wedding in the rain as Jukebox stood witness. Only to beam with even more pride as he became a finalist in the Muskoka Voice contest, a local version of the elimination show on NBC. Equally as exciting is that we sense Goob has truly found his perfect match, while Staci was busy ticking something very special off her bucket list.

From a personal level, I finally stopped feeding a somewhat important parking meter, then reconnected with an old friend that had unexpectedly fed ours. My husband got a promotion at work... and as I celebrate my annual work anniversary, I am blessed wake up every morning and head to a job I truly love.

As the cottage warms to the glow as the farmers almanac I've torched, I am happy to share some of my memories. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then my memories of this unique and amazing summer must be worth at least a million.

It was Oscar Wilde that noted: "...and all at once, summer collapsed into fall."

Here. Here. Who's ready to start carving pumpkins?

Surprisingly, ME!

STACCS & LUKE FOREVER

I don't know about you, but I enjoyed an amazing civil long weekend. I was honoured to watch Jukebox stand witness as two of his closest friends got married, then spent the rest of my break with great friends at our cottage.

Slowly but surely, I hit the grind completely exhausted first thing last Tuesday morn and (as an almost added bonus) I managed to blog that evening and purge my more serious thoughts; which is always an accomplishment when life is as crazy busy as it was last week.

Then, Wednesday evening my daughter stopped by the house higher than a kite. Not from drugs or any sort of substance, simply jacked from the sheer excitement and euphoria of what the next run of days was going to bring; the Boots & Hearts Festival about an hour south of us.

A) It's officially ON. B) Great hat. C) Rockin' to her favourite Keith Urban song .D) Flip Cup between sets.
TAKEN: AUGUST 10th - 13th, 2017

We knew she'd saved enough money to go and there was going to be about 10 of them camping together. They had planned all their meals and shopped as a group to save money. They seemed (from my vantage point) to have a well thought out plan for the festival as large as this one. Good, solid plan, yes. But I still couldn’t help but worry. With over 120,000 in attendance, how could I not worry? In the end, there was no need to.

As her kick-ass adventure progressed, true to her word, photos and videos began to arrive keeping us updated throughout the excitement.  She called me in the early afternoon Sunday because her phone had died in the night and there was just too much to tell me via text.

She told me that next year she thought we should join in. Then she continued to tell me that for a stint on Saturday she got separated from her crew and ended up hanging out and enjoying the music with another lady whose children were there with friends. "She was really old," she said. "Like 45... but she was cool and we had a blast!!" 

Look at that smile... Home today, she's experienced four glorious nights that would end with her drinking a twisted tea as her fave Luke Bryan closed the festival, whilst singing specifically to her in a crowd of tens of thousands of people.

Yup, you read that right. Just as she envisioned, he sang specifically to her. Just as I am truly only 29 years of age... NOT like the really old 45 year old she hung out with last Saturday.

Ah, the life inside my very active imagination, is absolutely amazing!!

#yagottalaughaboutit

THE RIGHT STUFF

Last week, after a generally disheartening and somewhat life changing day, I decided to head to the cottage for dinner. Just like the rain cloud that followed me around for the majority of the day, during my drive from town it started to sprinkle. By the time I got out of the car and to the bottom of the hill, I was in the midst of a full blown downpour. Suffice is to say once I finally unlocked and got through the cottage door my lovely summer wears were pretty much soaked.

Without a second thought, I kicked off my sandals, zoomed through the kitchen, opened the patio door and headed down the stairs to the water. As the rain intensified, I simply closed my eyes and absorbed the moment. Before long, I could feel that not only was I completely relaxed but by now I was also soaked to the bone. You know that vibe? When your makeup's running, whilst the pungent smell of wet dog overpowers the scent of the copious amount of hair product one puts in their hair.

In that very moment, any/all stress and concern disappeared and my overall disposition completely decompressed. Nothing, and I mean nothing (other than maybe one of those perfect hugs that turns into really great sex) has ever offered me such a sheer sense of relaxation like consciously standing in the pouring rain.

Eyes closed, I could hear the pups swimming around me and swear I could feel each and every raindrop landing on me. For a brief moment my mind veered to why I was so glum, then immediately realized the point was moot. In no way, shape or form, was I going to let the bad behaviour of another occupy my good nature nor my loyalty a moment longer. I stood in that rain for more than 20 minutes and the only reason I went up to the cottage was fear I would need to put my phone on rice to dry it out.

Anyway, once I dried off and fed my pups, this image is what I arrived on the dock to find. Trust me when I write, more than a week later, the rainbow was meant to be. Kind of like an affirmation that everything was going to be alright.

Completely unrelated to my mood, the day following my social media post stating 'there's nothing better than standing alone in the pouring rain. It's like a mute button for life,' my boss sympathetically asked me if I was okay. When I assured him I was, I felt the need to add a very important tidbit. 

You know the person the coined the phrase, "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger?" I said. "Today I'm honestly thinking they just need a a really good and solid punch in the face!"

We both burst out laughing and I knew in right then & there I'd be just fine.

Enjoy this amazing image and thanks again for listening.

This image is what the beauty of  making the right decision looks like.
TAKEN: JULY 26th, 2017

THE POWER OF THREE

I remember posting a meme a couple of years ago to my personal Facebook page that read: 'Who ever said diamonds are a girl’s best friend never had a dog'. Outside my pups (and being someone that deals with copious amounts of humans on a day to day basis) I have to go with a great book as my next closest friend. 

Then, with a nano-second difference, neck and neck in a photo finish with the other two, my husband brings in the bronze. What? Tough to read? If you're an avid reader of this electronic journal you'll already know that five years ago he wasn't even standing anywhere close to the gosh-dang podium!

(l-r: Puddin', Dottie & Annie) The three best girlfriends a gal could ask for.
TAKEN: JULY 22nd, 2017

Giggles aside, I went to a birthday party a couple of weekends ago and I thanked an acquaintance for his participation on my Instagram page. He acknowledged that he enjoyed what I posted but felt the need to point out the obvious, which was that my dogs tend to be my focal point in a lot of the photos I've shared. He continued the dialogue pointing out how 'useless' people are that get attached themselves to their pets. I’m not going to lie that I was taken a little aback, though in the moment I deemed discussing it with him just wasted energy.

From this social media get go, I've completely and totally understood that everyone has their thing. Some it’s clothing, fishing, even politics, while other’s embrace music and the creative process or selling shit. What makes this wonderful medium of sharing so amazing is that you get to experience more than what you offer personally; unless you mind is completely closed.

My three dogs are a constant in my life. I joke about my husband taking the bronze but I truly do spend all my spare time with my dogs. My husband leaves, they stay behind. I head outside, they’re not far behind. Kids no longer call to be fed, you can bet I am constantly feeding my pups instead. 

Don’t misunderstand. The affection granted is thanks to sheer unadulterated greed. They are always chasing some sort of treat and I always seem to be packing; in bulk!

Just look at the power of three... and two chicken weiners!

BIRTHDAY PARTY HINDSIGHT

Remember when we were kids and the best part of a birthday party, aside from the cake, was the loot bags we were given on our way home? Ah, loot bags. If my memory serves me correctly, there was always a direct correlation about the success of the party you’d just attended based on the loot you headed home with.

Well, after celebrating three July birthdays last Saturday night, I woke up Sunday morning to the sound of rain on our tent roof and an unusual throbbing of pain that led me to believe that I’d be heading home one hell of a "loot bag”.  The only difference being that I was blessed to receive it before I was ready to leave for home and it contained only a single piece of loot; a broken baby toe.

After my husband became mobile Sunday morning, I stayed in the tent and listened to the rain pour. In some serious pain, I couldn't help but reflect that there's so much truth to that saying, “it seemed like a really good idea at the time.” More often than not, when it comes to me being with a great bunch of people, amazing music, and jell-o shots circulating, I always tend to strike out in the foresight department. However, when it comes to hindsight, I always seem to score perfectly: 20/20.

The glow of orange jello-shots by the fire.
(...In the wee hours of the morn.)
TAKEN: JULY 15th or 16th, 2017

As a matter a fact, I would be lying if I didn't admit that I was generally confident that foresight wasn't going to show up when trays of colourful jell-o treats began being served and it was unanimously decided we all needed to go swimming.

So, with that decision being made, in the heat of that campfire moment, I felt the urge to take the picture I'm sharing. Primarily because it’s been at least a decade since I’d enjoyed these and secondly because I knew that things we’re going to graduate to the next level in a nano-second.

Though it seemed like harmless fun (getting into our swimming gear in the wee hours of the morning) it somehow escaped me that I was about to jump full force into a pool with no deep end. My poor baby toe didn't have a fighting chance in the breakage department. Hell, I think my ankle narrowly escaped!

As I went back and forth via text with an electronic friend today, they asked how my toe was. I was telling them that it’s been over a year since I have participated any type of these shenanigans. I also replied that I won’t be looking to jump on any type of a similar bandwagon for a very long time.

Anyway, I did admit that whenever I get myself into a situation like the one I did in the wee hours of Sunday morning, I always try to learn from the experience to avoid it in the future. So, in true Rhondi fashion, I replayed the accident over in my head and I have concluded that by changing one minor detail my poor toe could have been spared.

The minor detail wasn't enjoying the shots with my crew, nor by not getting into my bathing suit. My solution's much simpler than that. Midnight pool etiquette 101: This bitch should have simply done a kickass cannonball. 

See? Right there you have changed everything. Should I have had the gift of foresight in that moment, this crisis would have been completely averted!

Just sayin'.

BAD LUCK OR LIFE LESSON?

For a very specific reason, at 5:15 a.m. yesterday morning, I reflected that I’d read somewhere that there's no such thing as good luck or bad luck. Instead, the big picture theory's that life itself is simply a vast array of either life lessons or blessings. Trust me when I share that when I mumbled those paraphrased words aloud before dawn yesterday morn it involved some extreme profanity; so I'll breeze over those specifics and fast forward to my point.

You can imagine my struggle to understand my general ability to compartmentalize my lot called a lesson whilst standing in the middle of my flooded downstairs family room at dawn. For instance, should that truly be the case, how the hell can I get out of this overrated classroom teaching me life lessons that mimic reality? 

Short story long, I returned home after an amazing weekend to a burst hot water tank. Now, here's where it gets interesting. I must say, what a difference 36 hours makes.

Before and after. It makes me sad.
TAKEN: JULY 10th, 2017

With the kids grown and gone, I head downstairs no more than once a week to clean. Because our home is without air-conditioning, from May to October, that space is pretty much doggie central. I keep it cool for the pups, whom generally scurry to the door when I pull in the driveway, so I never feel the need to visit them in their space.

To compound that, the laundry gets done by hand via my glass washboard at the cottage. So, though I still clean their space weekly, I have no need for the laundry room. I guess I could admit that I'm grateful something unexpectedly tumbled down the stairs yesterday morning, or I wouldn't have gone downstairs. Could going downstairs be characterized as a blessing?

Anyway, by mid-morning, I recalled I did a lot of research before we pulled up the carpet and replaced it with laminated flooring, not hardwood. Yesterday, my research became one of those things in disguise. The floating floor we'd installed was up in about an hour and a half, presenting me with blessing #2.

Blessing number 3? Treat people the way you want to be treated. One call and my new high efficiency hot water tank was purchased and installed by early afternoon. With fans oscillating and dehumidifiers buzzing I can only hope that I can afford to replace the flooring I really loved.

Afterall, we all know hydro gets paid first and I can see the spike in consumption from the instant the tank went down.  Though I had an amazing weekend, when all is said and done I am thinking I could have flown to see my best electronic friend for the lot of hydro that was consumed waiting for me to experience my first blessing. 

So I'll leave you with two things: Enough with the life lessons & I hate Hydro.

OK, three things. Lastly.... Ya gotta laugh about it!

I PROMISED TO PAY IT FORWARD

For the last few weekends I’ve tried, unsuccessfully, to wrap my head around reading a specific book I purchased from my favourite used bookstore before my trip to Cuba.

For varying reasons, after a dozen or more tries, I couldn't seem to make it past page eighteen. Ultimately discouraged, I abandoned my efforts last Saturday & conceded that after more than three decades, I’d finally discovered an offering from the author that I didn’t find remotely appealing.

Throwing down that official gauntlet had me rambling about my cottage bookshelves for something to sink my imagination into. Then, out of the blue, my husband reminded me of a hard cover book I was gifted by a total stranger on my April flight from New Orleans to Dallas-Fort Worth. As you can expect, there’s a story there.

Once I took my seat, a lovely lady with the window seat cheerfully greeted me. I settled in, lowering my tray to make room for my tablet and the paperback book I was in the midst of reading. Out of the blue she announced that she too enjoyed the writer, then produced her newest offering in hardcover. She went on to explain that years ago her husband joined a book club that automatically delivered him the new releases to which he'd present those as gifts to his wife.

As quick as my envy ensued, I instantly had a WTF moment when she confessed it would be nice if he made more of an effort to shop for her so she got to read something else once in a while. I know it’s easy enough to have a book automatically delivered to a specific address but I found the fact that he would gift wrap them and surprise her with them without occasion very sexy. 

Of course, when it comes to gauging romantic gestures toward me I have little, actually zero personal experience. If you'll recall, I'm the gal that has to research and plan her own birthday trips for two every year. Not only that, on my last milestone celebration, my husband had his balloon offering delivered on the wrong day; so perhaps now you can appreciate how I would find a gift wrapped book almost orgasmic!

Anyway, we continued to chat about various books when half way through the flight she pulled out a second hardcover book asking if I’d read it. When I admitted I hadn’t, she generously gave me her never read book. I was both shocked and grateful and I accepted. As we both held onto the book as it transferred ownership, I promised her that when I was finished reading it, I would pay it forward. I would give it to another in hopes that they too would pass it on to someone new.

If you're interested in receiving this special gem, let me know. After you're done with it, feel free to ask to borrow any one of my 40+ Danielle Steele books or any of my new to me used books I aquire from The Owl Pen downtown. I don't care that they won't be gift wrapped, the fact that the owner will call me and tell me new ones have arrived (giving me the first right of refusal) is still very sexy.

What? Are you surprised that practicality won out over romance?

After 30 years of conditioning, I'm honestly OK with it. Which is why I refuse to apologize for enjoying these types of books, nor care to explain why I will gladly tune into a Hallmark Channel flick over a Martin Scorsese movie in a heart beat.

It's my mirage theory: In the absence of water, I tend to eat the sand.

Thank goodness that crap contains lots of fiber!!

Tackled a new book & a Canada Day drink with my best electronic friend simultaneously.
Neither disappointed.
TAKEN: July 1st, 2017

ALL WAS DEFINITELY NOT LOST

Like most people I am a creature of habit.  When it comes to any defense and/or coping mechanisms, should something work I stick with it until it doesn’t, then I reassess. Like any stellar mechanic, I have a really cool toolbox filled with exercises I use to help keep my personality sharp and my mind out of any unnecessary darkness. 

I don’t talk here much about how big a pessimist I am but if I were to gauge it, I'd go with T-Rex large and twice as fierce. Anyway, after a bout of postpartum depression in the mid 1990’s, I decided a change in overall outlook (combined with an understanding of my limitations) the only way to go. As a result, I ended up to seeking help outside my family physician to avoid being medicated on anti-depressants. 

Forever an all important work in progress, I'm generally very open about the fact that I lean on a psychologist if need be; with my core philosophy being you take your car in for a check-up why wouldn’t you do the same for your mindset.

Short story long, I didn’t go to work today. Specifics as to why are moot points so when the alarm rang at 5am I immediately decided I needed to completely regroup and dig deep with a solid effort to go from funk to fab. Well rested, I finally rolled out of bed around noon.

Rested, yet restless, I needed to focus and find an unrelated task. I decided to remove and attack my hard drive that'd crashed from my office desktop unit last April and see if I could salvage anything from it. I got the necessary tools from the garage and began my dissection. 

Staccs n' me  rocking the white sand beach in Cayo Coco, Cuba
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 10th, 2017

I am pleased to report that I was able to successfully remove the hard drive without further damage and retrieve all of my precious data. Thousands of pictures but more importantly all of my taxation backup. Because as we all know...the taxman is a complete and total asshole!

As my data transferred I couldn’t help but reflect on the year I’ve had. If I wasn't what the doctors label clinically depressed last winter I’ll eat my fuzzy socks and lend you all the blankets I wanted to cover my head with. 

That said, my saving grace through all of that drama was the weekend jaunt I took to Cuba with my daughter. I salvaged this picture today. Isn’t she absolutely beautiful?

She will be excited to read that I got all of our travel pictures back. Along will all of our others from 2007 on. Hence the reason for my title that all was definitely not lost.

Who says being in a mental health daze can’t be rewarding, productive and amazing?!