Saturday, March 17, 2018


This morning I awoke and decided to stay in bed simply because I could. You know those kind of days, when you wholeheartedly embrace being a fornicating canine? Anyway, as the morning progressed closer to the noon, I texted my daughter and asked if she would like to join me for lunch: she said yes.

As I landed at her apartment to pick her up, she appeared to be walking toward me carrying a relatively large cardboard box. I knew it wasn’t her laundry, because that is usually presented to me in a very task specific kind of basket, not a box. So, with my curiosity piqued and her wearing a cat shit eating grin, she arrived at me and announced, “...I have something for you.” Inside were more of the very treasured Petro-Canada glasses I obsessively collect!

Thanks to everyone for every effort
to help grow my special collection. *hugs*
TAKEN: MARCH 17th, 2018
Being in the middle of town and opening that box today made me realize that my more than decade long act of collecting these beautiful holder of anything liquid (in memory of my father) has evolved into a true tag-team effort. 

This lot came from a blog reader and personal friend of Staccs that I don't really know. So I want to say, yet again, that I am truly grateful to all that call, buy, deliver, and even text message location deets; while truly remaining on the lookout.

The interesting twist to this post is that when I got home and sat down to begin to write this one, I did what 99% of us do when we sit down at a computer, I checked my Facebook.  As soon as it populated, I discovered it was the anniversary of the death of a man that I spent a phenomenal amount of time with he and his family during my teen years.

Looking at the photo she'd posted and reading her tribute to her dad, embraced everything I would say to mine if I could. That I love him, and miss absolutely everything about him. Every... single... day.

I know there are so some naysayers out there may think the glass collecting obsession is silly, but it doesn't phase me. Instead,  if I could offer one vantage point of logic to their negativity it's that what they don’t know is, in the very minute I hold one of these new to me special treasures in my hand, I'm in a wonderful moment with my Dad. Today I could hear his laughter in the car with my daughter and I; and there's nothing even remotely silly about that.

Cheers to both these awesome guys today. Hope they are sharing a burger & a beer.

Not to mention having a good laugh about my asinine glass collection!

Friday, February 23, 2018


So, it’s been a little over a year since I began my quest for a clean bill of health. It started in my family doctor's office with a clear vision of me needing to establish a starting point for my mid-life body, giving me the ability to embrace it for the next twenty five plus years.

It immediately kicked off with a ton of blood work that quickly led to a series of ultrasounds, smears, specialists & 'oscopy procedures; and although it took longer than I'd ever imagined, all have proven to have been very necessary.

My point is that I had an outpatient procedure yesterday in hospital about 30 miles south of me. It was at my request, as we had ruled out the medication dealing with what was a definite growth wasn't having the overall impact that was expected.

Because I was the one pushing for the procedure, I didn't find the idea as personally stressful as say if I’d been given less than a week's notice and told it had to happen as soon as possible. In hindsight, I wish I would have been more mentally prepared and done some clear research to understand what I was about to endure. 

Who knew OHIP supplied very sexy paper bracelets
for enduring one of their life changing spa experiences?!
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 22nd, 2018
As silly as this may read, I believed that I was going to pop in and out of the outpatient department as fast as one does locally when they have a mammogram, which wasn't the case.

I should have picked up my doctors' vibe when he asked me, twice, 'if I would prefer to have a general anesthetic' and not remain awake.

I declined because I felt I had prepared myself for having the lump removed, yet what I didn't know was how painful and stressful being awake for the procedure would be. I actually think I went into a little bit of shock... Because by the time I dressed and said my goodbyes, I began to shake all over. I narrowly managed to get into the car before I had a total meltdown. I cried all the way home from the sheer physicality & emotional anxiety of what I'd just endured.

Now that I have had time to calm down, I don't regret going forward with the procedure. I was a tad surprised with the number of stitches I received and that it would take close to a month for them to heal but the experience is all a part of the bigger picture and my own philosophy, which is that no one should ever take their health for granted.

If I have to take a glass half full moment from the experience, it would have to be that I am so very grateful that I have always been aware of my body and any changes that are happening. Between self-examination and the simplistic generality of Web-MD, I hope to have stayed ahead of my biopsy results being cancerous.

If you haven't kept up on your bill of health, make that appointment today. If my post doesn't spell it out, understand that there are a million reasons why you should with the #1 reason being the single most important one of all.

... You're freaking worth it!

Sunday, February 18, 2018


I was texting back and forth yesterday morning with a trusted confidant and we began reminiscing about the summer of 2012. For a number of varying reasons we cheerfully remember that time, most importantly because it was the very first time I’d lived alone at the cottage & commuted to work since its purchase in 1999. In hindsight, I guess you can say that was the summer I officially learned to sew; simply because that summer was the first time I'd ever invested in mending... me.

It’s not like I was broken per se, more to the point that when the twins left for post secondary school in September of 2011, I felt a sense that my life was unraveling. The point being, when the nest empties I don’t think anyone can truly get to know themselves (what they want, nor what they need as a newly independent person) until they make the effort to try and figure it out. Midlife gave me the one thing I’d never had the luxury of before: time.

All these years later, I realize that nothing truly prepares us for midlife. And when that phase crept into my peripheral vision, I honestly would not have classified myself as unhappy. More elated, embracing a feeling of euphoria because I no longer had to focus on everyone around me, and could finally get to focus on my own needs.

It was in that moment, that I looked in the mirror and realized that I had no idea who I was. I remember my immediate assessment on the outside was that I was overweight, yet on the inside I realized I was resentful for being underappreciated. That very harsh personal reality hit like a ton of bricks… and trust me, I did NOT see it coming.

So, as things in my life began to quickly unfurl, I took matters into my own hands. I don’t know what I would have done without my very best girlfriend. She was a lifesaver. She had already survived something similar, so she was my beacon. Thank goodness I didn’t have to pay CJ for all of her hugs and words of support, I would have gone bankrupt!

The summer of 2012. Puddin' was just a wee pup and Dot got to spend extra paddle time alone with me!

The point of my post is that I don't dwell on that time and I have no regrets. I made some big personal moves, learned how to live my life on my terms, and over the eighteen months that followed suffered gut-wrenching heartache I don’t wish on anyone else to have to experience. At the end of the day, I came out the other side more vibrant and exceedingly more comfortable with the skin I’m in. If you’re in my life it’s because you deserve to be, if you’re not, you ultimately know & understand why.

Owning who you are is a lot harder than you may think. For years I just folded like a lawn chair until I would explode with frustration. Now a days, I wholeheartedly own what I want and openly communicate where I’m going: with no regrets.

A wise man once told me that life experiences are the threads that all have a part in our final blanket, which is very true. The other side of that coin is, who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?

I taught myself to sew a beautiful midlife blanket six years ago... Didn’t I ?!

Monday, February 5, 2018


FUN FACT #1: Did you know that there are roughly sixty four shades of blue?
FUN FACT #2: In the past, I've suffered a varying levels of many during February.

As I always try and own the second fun fact, I can’t help but go on record with the thought that this past month of January, felt like a really tough year. As we roll into February, I'll enthusiastically start the new calendar month with a smile on my face, simply because I've officially made it. 

When the children left for post secondary school, we originally began travelling in February. Not sure why really, outside the fact that we'd never done so & everybody in our neck of the tundra seemed to. A couple of years in, we took the twins and the pups and rented a pet friendly house in South Carolina. I couldn't believe how that early jolt of vitamin D aided with my symptoms of Seasonal Affective Disorder.

As that year rolled into the next, I soon discovered that we could very economically head into the light at the fall time change, skip mid-winter travel, wait until my birthday in spring and essentially get away twice for the price of an all inclusive week in February. So that's what our travel timing shifted to.

Then, this time last year, I took my daughter on a quick 4 night weekend jaunt to Cuba. It was intended to serve as quality time for the both of us, but at the end of the day, those 4 nights made the world of difference for both of us personally. 

By 1 pm that first full day on the beach, I could feel myself awaking from my winter slumber. But it wasn't just me, it was my daughter too. She was participating around the pool, running along the beach, and embracing every single minute. 

A weekend win on every possible level, it was upon my return that I realized that moving forward, some similar type of February mini vaycay was something I needed. So I baked a value into my annual travel budget and Bob's your uncle; I was on my way.

This year my daughter isn't coming with as she's spending this weekend in Ottawa with friends, skating on the Rideau Canal and enjoying the city in general. Instead, I am taking my other Sweetie; my husband, and we are headed to Bahamas for the very first time.

Photographic proof of my daughter kicking February's ass....Old school!

I booked it Black Friday for less than what it would have cost us to return to Cuba for that same four day stint I did last year. The only downside is that I had to take a hammer to my piggy bank this morning.... Why?

Because when doing my due diligence, I figured out why it's "Better In The Bahamas." Everything has at least four dollar signs attached ($$$$) even the Starbucks in the lobby. With my birthday trip booked and the planning of our 30th anniversary in June underway, I don't care. We are totally worth it and we are gonna have a blast.

Not to mention... I get yet another brand new stamp in my passport!

Giddy UP!!

Thursday, January 25, 2018


I am a firm believer that only those whom truly care about you can hear you when you’re quiet.

I  also wholeheartedly believe that great friendships, and relationships to some extent, never actually end. Instead, it’s like they go into hibernation until both are ready to participate again. That, or until the overall effort is placed into a folder labelled life lessons learned; only for you to reflect upon when your life calls on you to verbalize to yourself about what NOT to do.

A cool streetlamp pic as I am walking to carpool
TAKEN: JANUARY 23th, 2018
My point is that I was sitting across from a co-worker today, sipping a bowl of soup, watching her describe a very unique and special friendship she'd had. It was amazing to watch. I'm not kidding, her entire face lit up and she was excited to be reminiscing.

In the end, she'd shared that her relocation & personal injury meant they had lost touch about two years ago. We finished our lunch, returned to the office and went back to business.

I couldn't help but continue to think about what she'd said. I grabbed my phone and walked over to her office. I showed her this picture, telling her its premise was to compliment a post I have been working on that speaks to exactly what we had discussed at lunch. I followed that with a very enthusiastic (picture the pompoms and cheerleader outfit folks)... "Get in touch with your friend. You never know where they are at in their life."

Any/all friendships & relationships are about finding a balance, and more importantly trust. I have a plethora of acquaintances in my day to day life, too many to name, and just a handful of true friends. You know the ones, that would unconditionally do anything for the other?

That may read a tad arrogant but I think Ed Sheeran explained it best in an episode of Carpool Karaoke, when he admitted that he had a cellphone for a about two weeks then no longer bothered to charge it. He said he would wake in the morning to fifty plus  messages and none of them would simply say: ‘hey, how are you?’

Instead, they would all be asking, ‘can I have this, can you lend me this, can you do this, can I get this?' Which he described as incredibly draining; and believe it or not, I can totally relate.

I have honestly stopped communicating with certain people because it became all about what they needed and nothing about overall balance. All they seemed to do was take take take. There would always be bait disguised as care, but their personal agenda was very evident.

In the end, I share with those I surround myself with something called 'my shine'. Truth be known, I stole the label about a year ago from my lunch mate today.

Though her personality makes mine look like an introvert, she's taught me a number of very valuable life lessons in a very short period of time.

I'm not bragging or anything but she & I are in true friend territory!

...and it's not just because we both like soup.

Tuesday, January 16, 2018


This coming March it will be 11 years since I formally became a social media junkie. As far fetched as this may read, I remember the day I got an official FB login and that’s the one I still use today. You see, the twins were barely teens and were telling me they wanted join this really neat thing called Facebook: my fixation kicked in.

My eldest was already online with My Space but when the twins were looking at jumping onto a bandwagon I knew nothing about, I decided to start to do my due diligence. Once I became a member, I remember that the pioneering group of us locally was small. All these years later, most of those folks still hit my newsfeed on a regular basis. 

My point is, this past week I sat with someone on our leadership team at work and had a great discussion, breaking down the aspects of social media and how said pieces fit strategically into our overall marketing approach. Explaining why I approach our/any audience the way I do, led to comment that he considered my mind a ‘vault of media marketing knowledge.’

After I quickly ran to my desk and returned with a ten dollar bill to thank him for his amazing compliment, we continued our discussion on how I handle privacy settings and how I approach individual platforms from a personal level. You see, he has discovered he’s resisted long enough and it was time he joined the masses.

I have about 5,000 people I interact with personally on Facebook alone, which doesn’t include the many businesses that have contracted me to optimize their online presence. Though I have shifted my focus in the last year, I am pleased to report that my strongest presence and best results comes from this electronic journal that went live November 20th, 2011. First and foremost because Google+ is my friend, blossoming primarily because I feed it content, to which I am pleased to report my views are in the millions. 

My 35mm picture taken with a timer.
As I sit here and think of how the blog content’s evolved since its inception (I chose for it to become more image driven) I decided to share the first profile picture I posted before selfies filled that space. It was taken with a 35mm camera, in my home office, with a timer. I needed a head shot for my business blog and I thought this was a valiant effort. 

Almost 11 years later, I had to laugh when I went back into my archived pics and noticed the cat on the desk behind me, the lamp on my assistants desk is missing its shade, and media clutter is stacked on the ledge; however, I absolutely love that I captured the picture of my dad and I in the top left.

Though I am pleased to report that I managed to crop the light bulb out of the photo for the blog: Facebook got the Full Monty!

More than a decade later, I was notified this week that 32,000 people have 'liked' my personal posts on Facebook... and it all started at this desk.

Wowza! Followed by a who the hell knew?

Not me, but I am certainly glad I've embraced all of the groundbreaking platforms.

Monday, January 8, 2018


At around 9:30am Saturday morning my phone chimed alerting me to an incoming text message from my daughter. ‘Let me know when you’re ready to go,’ it read.

I knew she was still in bed, so clearly the outdoor temperature didn’t matter to her. As far as she was concerned, we were headed on our bi-weekly trip to town. One of the coldest mornings on record and she decided to wake up early with an overwhelming amount of enthusiasm. (She can thank her fathers' DNA for that 'so not like her momma' trait.)

Armed with our lists of what we needed to accomplish, we hatched a plan. She needed a specific style of work pant, so we started by heading into the largest box store we have. We were both minding our own business, pushing our carts and getting what we needed, simply enjoying each other’s company: when out of the blue, coming toward us I spied one of her old high school chums. (Not the acquaintance type of chum you had a locker next to, but one you spent summer after summer with and to this day your families remain cordial.)
Anyway, with a great big cat shit eating grim on her face, my daughter spied her coming toward us. She turns to me and said ‘watch how she goes out of her way to avoid me.’ I watched and it was blatantly obvious.

It didn’t seem to phase my daughter. She explained how long the other'd been behaving this way and I found it quite sad. I suppose if the truth be known I felt sorry for the girl. My first instinct was she'd put far to much focus and energy on avoiding us, when walking by and saying nothing would have sufficed. Then again, we all know the skill of executing a true snub comes with both maturity and life experience.

My bestie enduring -30C so I could get the shot!
Armed only with a bluetooth touque, Sorel boots and a smile.
TAKEN: JANUARY  6th, 2018
By the time we'd exited our first stop & finished running around, we had decided she would come back to the house to grab some clothes she had left from when she last dog sat.

As we zoomed the backway to her apartment in the centre of town, I couldn't help but notice the amazing natural light of our frozen tundra.

I pulled into the park parking lot, grabbed my camera and headed toward the falls. As I trudged through the snow, I glanced over my shoulder to see my daughter following me. She followed the direction I gave, and headed out on the snowy dock ahead of me. This photo was just one of the results of our frozen fun; it's absolutely breathtaking.

I am so very fortunate to live and have a cottage in a town I love. When I look at the smile on my daughters face I realize that though she left, her returning has helped her hit her stride. She's surrounded love. That is except for the young blonde, with the 'I'm better than you attitude,' that we ran into at Wal-Mart.

I'm glad my Sweetie and I could talk about how her previous friends behaviour evolved and I could make her giggle as we tried to understand it. Knowing, after the fact, how the small idiosyncrasies evolved, her bizarre actions had me relating to a meme I posted on Instagram about a month ago that read...

Somewhere, somebody out there is thinking of you, and the tremendous impact you made on their life.

It's not me... I think you're an idiot!

Friday, January 5, 2018


When I rose at 5am this morning, I immediately thought of my very good friend Sean. His standard joke for times when there was an extreme cold warning in effect was: ‘It was so cold outside this morning, that I saw a lawyer walking down the street with his hands in his own pockets.’ The reason that little ditty makes me smile’s because he was a lawyer. Taken too soon, I truly miss him. May he forever rest in peace.

My point being, when I woke up this morning it was -44C outside with the windchill, so I ended up staying home. Not because I couldn’t have gone to work, rather because our home was built in the late 1980’s, we have water intake pipes that run along an outside wall inside the garage. 

Again, nothing life altering, except the last time I heated the garage for the weekend during a deep freeze, the three day hydro bill was 600 bucks. Suffice is to say, I don’t take home 600 beans a day and this sucker's here 'til at least Sunday; so I was unanimously elected to keep the ice water running for the day.

It’s been a brutal week. After my December infusion of vitamin D, I usually manage to hit the ground running in the new year. You know, when most of the gloom is gone and the snow is bright white. But because the weather's been so cold, the only exercise I have managed to get is shoveling the driveway twice. (Noting that exercise, combined with my light therapy, is key to me keeping my seasonal affective disorder in check.)

Oh, my stupid SAD. Now that I'm aware, it makes me so very conscious of my overall ability to be a big hairy bitch this time of year. I have to be so regimented about my routine it feels like I should have been cast in the movie Groundhog Day.

At this point, I am just constantly grinding my teeth for the first of February to arrive, then, it will be full steam ahead to spring. I don’t expect you to understand if you don’t suffer but it is absolutely maddening that I feel that I can't wake up. I am serious when I admit that I just want to hibernate and it has nothing to do with being depressed.

I read somewhere that people don’t notice if it’s winter or summer if they are happy. 

I call bullshit. I’m very happy, yet I have enough common sense to know that when the hair in my nose freezes instantly it’s winter, and when my brain freezes fast it’s definitely summer; and said freeze is usually caused by a gigantic serving of tiger tail ice cream.

Ah, now I’m craving junk food. I can’t win! At least my snow shoveling photo ROCKS!!

Glass half full... right?!

Who other than me likes to shovel snow? I know, I suck!
TAKEN: JANUARY 3rd, 2018

Monday, January 1, 2018


January: An amazing bonfire on the very first day of the year.
February: A long weekend jaunt to Cuba
March: Me...celebrating Spring!
April: My birthday trip to New Orleans!!
May: The murder of Wendy Boland
June: Finished a decade long project at the cottage.
July: Celebrated Canada 150
August: A beautiful wedding in the rain.
September: A team building fishing trip to the French River
October: Mourned the death of a Canadian icon.
November: Celebrated my Mother in Law's milestone 70th birthday
December: Ended my work year with a bunch of amazing people

Proud Mama Moment? Witnessing my son kill it in the finals of The Muskoka Voice singing competition.

She was one for the record books!

Sunday, December 31, 2017


It's that time of year again, when you spend the majority of your much earned time off, going through all of the motions that are expected. Yet, the truth of the matter is you can't wait to get an evening to yourself; so you can crack open a bag of Doritos and cheerfully comment aloud that 'they're definitely the most underrated hors d'oeuvre!'

What a year. What a hell bent, Skinny Minnie Miller, roller derby, whirlwind full of exit drama kinda year. Those latter bull crap filled shenanigans ultimately had the Russian judge award me a perfect 10.0 for my year end dismount. That unexpected score right there, has me quietly reflecting in my fuzzy socks this New Years Eve. So many emotions yet not a single regret. Just an amazing amount of personal enthusiasm for what the coming year has to offer.

Relax, this isn't a 'new year - new me' electronic journal post. Because as you all know, I have worked very hard to get to this phenomenal place called balance. Instead, my post has me reporting that under our severe cold freeze, I took it upon myself to get out of the house and walk to town yesterday to get a new high speed router.

My timing to town was perfect, which allowed me the privilege of taking my daughter for a bite of lunch at our favourite coffee shop. After a great visit and some much needed 'I love yous,' I headed back toward the homestead on foot. Man, it was cold. I hadn't noticed the bitter windchill heading to town as it must have been to my back.

Singing and walking at a pace just shy of a slow jog,  I tackled the last large hill toward my final straight stretch. With my face freezing from the windchill, I decided to call my husband. I told him where I was at and to let the dogs out in the next couple of minutes so they could get a good run in to come and meet me.

My beautiful airborne Annie... with Puddin' and Dot!
TAKEN: DECEMBER 30th, 2017
As I turned the corner & called their names, from hundreds of meters away, I could see them bolt and my beautiful Annie begin to fly.

As I grabbed my phone I laughed a loud. All my mind could process from the oncoming visual was THIS's what unconditional love looks like!

It's that simple.

In 2018, make a conscious effort to radiate the energy you want to receive. Always keep your words kind, and the tone of your voice kinder. Spend time with the people in your life that align with your personal philosophies; and less with those that don't.

 Most importantly? ...Don't be a dick!

As we officially ring in our seventh eve together, I'd like to take this opportunity to wish everyone a very Happy New Year and once again thank you all so very much for reading.

Cheers to 2018 ~ Rhondi 

Tuesday, December 12, 2017


I am excited to share my good news,  which is that I truly had an amazing week away in Mexico. Part in parcel because I went so far out of my comfort zone that I thought I was on a 430 mile Mayan trading exposition to Guatemala; something rarely experienced in my somewhat conservative yet celebrated years to date.

The other side of my spit polished good news coin isn't so great. Unexpectedly, my cell phone went on a kick ass Xel-Ha lazy river ride at the adventure park in Tulum. Bad news is I neglected to provide 'er with a personal flotation device and she drown. (I managed to get her back to Canada. Visitation has been held continually ever since. Funeral service is being held tomorrow morning.)

Would my Blackberry have survived?
TAKEN: DECEMBER 10th, 2017
Ah, those amazing life moments when you believe you might escape a seismic ass kicking, then as the play by play occurs you instinctively know you're absolutely fubar'd.

This instance was one of those after the fact light bulb moments when I felt inclined to ask for a do-over. A simple request to just turn the hands of the clock back a mere 30 minutes. As expected, not an option.

Belly-aching in this particular scenario aside, though I have referenced the term here before, there are very few things in my life I ever wish I could do over. I've accepted my lot, warts and farts, and grown as a person for every single one of them.

I don't know about you but I'm the first one to raise my hand to hold myself accountable and this instance is no different. I had a plan, it failed. My glass half full relates that is was at the expense of a used cell phone I purchased this time last year to help wean me away from the clicking keys of my Blackberry. In the end, I'd pumped far too much cash into repairing it and as a result I never truly bonded with it.

Laugh if you must, but those that truly know me, know that I graduated to a Samsung platform kicking and screaming. Though people would laugh at me for my very serious love affair with my Blackberry, I allowed the android hype to curb my enthusiasm into thinking it was time to rehabilitate my thumbs of the comfort of buttons and go to touch screen technology.

Compromise comes in all shapes and sizes. For years I salivated about jet-set travelling and bought a camping trailer instead. Proving most importantly, that I very rarely overindulge. I bought the phone used to try and understand the technology, and in its final hours I ended up drowning the poor shit. Resigned to the fact that I would just reactivate my old Blackberry Classic, on a whim I made a call to a competitive mobility service provider.

Turns out they gave me a $200 credit towards a new phone and a $300 credit for porting my phone to them from a competitor. So a 2 year contract for the phone I chose was $509. I was in shock. A whooping 9 bucks for a top of the line phone? I made them send me the offer in writing.

So, as I say goodbye to my Samsung 6 Edge tomorrow with an early morning service, I expect my brand spanking new Samsung 8+ to arrive via Purolator mid afternoon. As you can imagine, it will definitely be a day filled with emotion.

As an aside, I'm not sure how I feel about the extra nine bucks it cost me. If I had to pick one word it would have to be 'torn'. Torn because I could have went to a Blackberry PRIV for far less and didn't. Torn because it truly personifies the end of an amazing Blackberry era for me.

Once again reinforcing my mantra... that you can't stop change, only manage it.

Sunday, November 26, 2017


Plain ole me on the balcony with one kick-ass suntan!
TAKEN: December 2nd, 2016
In the midst of packing my suitcase this morning, I stopped, sat down at my desk and decided to quickly scroll through the hundreds of pictures I took this time last year when I was vacationing on the Mayan Riviera. 

Three hundred and sixty one sleeps later, I still have so many mixed feelings about that trip and the life changing shit show I returned to, that I swear I was on the verge of a panic attack at the simple thought of packing!

I’ve never vacationed in the same place twice before. It’s been both a conscious & very personal decision, as I ultimately continue to search for as many different stamps in my passport before my 57th birthday. 

That said, I had to set that theory aside when I booked this puppy this September past, as I knew I needed a do over on this one. In a nutshell, I am in need closure, that in turn will hopefully bring celebration for the personal growth I have experienced in the last almost year.

On one hand, I have so much to be grateful for. Yet, I find I harbour some very innate fears about certain aspects of my day to day life which ultimately cause me more stress than it should. Growing up I remember my mother always telling me 'to never to hate anything' because it took too much energy away from all the good around you. This year has proved that to me tenfold; for which I truly appreciate.

As my girlfriend and I text back and forth today about wardrobe, weight gain & bathing suit choices, I was pleased to see via Facebook that the British friends met last year were boarded on their plane as it fueled on the London tarmac. That right there made me excited to continue packing.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. You can't stop change only manage it. So what are my hopes for the extra pounds I am carrying to Mexico this year?

Over the last couple of days I cut & coloured my hair, waxed all the bits of me that needed waxing,  then this morning I applied a top coat of sparkle nail polish to my freshly manicured toes; all in hopes of providing a much need trifecta affect of distraction against the weight gain.

Do you think there may be a bit of delusion woven into my approach to create illusion?

Me three... But it helped clear my thoughts so I could finish packing.


Thursday, November 23, 2017


On a very last minute whim I went to the local casino last Friday night.

For close to a year, a coworker'd been randomly inviting me to join her so I finally decided to tag along. Not to gamble,  rather to be entertained in the auditorium, the way I have always envisioned the intent; watching one of my favourite bands perform... Styx.

A crazy fun road trip to get there, we pulled in and the valet parked her very sexy SUV. Once inside the lobby, I felt a sudden gush of seasonal sensory overload. So much so, that my brain didn't know what to do. I wasn't sure if I should focus on the festive decorative tribute to Christmas in November,  or the very large volume of varying patrons buzzing about the lobby taking pictures of the tribute to Christmas in November.

My angst was immediately minimized when she proceeded to swiftly check into her complimented suite, where we enjoyed a lovely glass of red wine (or two) then matter-a-factly headed into the casino before the show.

It was quite crowded but nowhere near as loud as I’d remembered. As my french buddy 'Mauve' pulled up a specific machine and began ‘entertaining’ herself, I watched in awe. Quickly on a roll, at points she was up more than the value of a month of my wages.

Hanging low in the tall grass, I carefully sipped a glass of wine, ultimately feeling bad for watching the clock and interrupting her to let her know it was time to proceed to the show. After all, I suspect everything for her was free with their intent being she keeps her butt in a leather chair as long as possible; NOT the folding kind located in the auditorium.

We made it to the show and Styx was fantastic. When it finished we worked our way back toward the great indoors. We stopped and purchased some swag and she went to great lengths to make sure we had our picture taken to commemorate our crazy fun experience. Wandering back into the casino, I asked that she show me the premise on how she chooses a specific machine and how she determines how much to ultimately spend.

Not wanting to be a total stick in the mud, after her sharing her insight, I wandered a couple of rows away to try and hit my groove.

Ready to be completely entertained, I selected my poison carefully. I inserted my twenty dollar bill into the super slick suction pit that I swore was labelled... 'That puppy ain't never coming back.'

After what felt like an nanosecond, I cashed out my dime slot chit before I had lost my entire investment. I couldn't help but smile as I glanced at the focal aspect of my picture showing my take and announcing...

'She's a Rich Girl.'

Here's the skinny.

Though I enthusiastically donated a massive $19.64 toward my evenings entertainment, a couple of days later I realized a much more powerful thought about my out lay of cash, which is.... Your most cherished and valued wealth is  what you invest in great friends. 

Not only a great friend, this cat's a Super Hero.

Seriously... She's a Super Hero and she has a business card to prove it.

Trust me. I've seen it. Twice!

Tuesday, November 14, 2017


Sometimes, I can be so pessimistic that I look and assess for signs of things that may go wrong fifteen step down the road. Not because they will, more just in case they do. 

My thought process being, if the shit does happen to fly off the rails, I've insured a well thought out plan for self-preservation. This wasn't always the case but as I'm sure you can relate, deep hurt creates checks and balances into any routine ensuring history never repeat itself.

As mentioned a couple of posts ago, I touched on the fact that my unconditional loyalty had been seriously taken for granted after executing my sales and marketing expertise to dead end promises. Point being, nothing in business will EVER surprise me again; nada, nothing, zero, zip, zilch!

Anyway, I bumped into a relatively new business acquaintance today. When our eyes met, we both immediately smiled and outstretched our hands to formally greet the other. Once our hands began to shake, I was the first to speak and confidently asked…. “How’s my newest Linkedin connection doing today?”

After he chuckled at my approach, he made a point of saying that connecting with me professionally led him my blog (a.k.a. this very sexy electronic journal). I thanked him for his kind words, then touched on how long I’d actually been ranting about completely useless topics, explaining how careful an effort I’d exercised to cryptically conceal identities and blatant truths that had transpired over the years in my sleepy little town. 
A profile selfie snapped at my desk 4 years ago today!
(Thanks Facebook On This Day for reminding me)
TAKEN: NOVEMBER 14th, 2012

He  continued by referencing that he had enjoyed my October 27th post. Mentioned that he'd put two and two together, cracked the code and continued to explain his own experience with the very same entity I was bitching about: I was speechless. 

Look, I started this whatchamacallit thing as a clueless empty-nester that admired two other female bloggers that posted on my Facebook feed.

Lost once my children left home, I remember constantly roaming around in my thoughts without a flashlight or GPS. Everywhere I looked, everyone had an agenda. In turn, I felt writing to be my only option to having a voice.

I truly do remember that very first post more than six years ago, when the negative haters looked to my ambition and told me 'blogging was dead.' I didn’t care. I had something to say. Trouble was I didn’t know exactly what that was. Even more complicated? Seven hundred and twenty six posts later, I'm not sure I know now.

Yet, after today, I know one thing. I no longer have to, nor have the desire to write in code. If I have something to say, I am going to say it. Don’t like it. Don’t read. My posts may have be coming fewer and farther between but that is going to change. I'll never stop voicing my opinions. It’s simply who I am.... 

An opinionated, fun loving, sarcastic jokester, that's gonna keep on keeping  it real.

Afterall, if a stranger can break the code, maybe it's time to remove the password!

Monday, October 30, 2017


'RELAX' I said.
'...I promise you won't feel a thing!'
TAKEN: OCTOBER 21st, 2017
...Where the hell did October go?

I can’t believe one of my favorite months of the year has a single hallowed eve left then it's over.

With my autumn vibe on and it officially kickin' it old school, I can't help but feel this year's passing us by far quicker than I ever figured it would.

Anyway, after my last post, I am pleased to report that the closest friend I've ever been blessed to have reached out via text. Both hardwired for success, over time we'd shifted our focus from one and other to individual results. Inevitably apart, we never lost touch.

Though some time had lapsed since last connecting, I find it truly amazing that we both openly admitted we've never replaced the other in the BFF department.  I suspect neither of us have because the real deal can rarely be replicated.

As I prepare to let October go, I feel the need to report the Farmer’s Almanac I torched Labour Day weekend (for predicting snow would arrive and stay mid October) was truly burned in vain. Its blasphemous prediction resulted in a sad and somewhat unnecessary literary sacrifice on my part.

Note to self: Work on controlling your extremely combustible premature October reactions when they are attached to a very specific offering of 'top secret mathematical & astronomical formulas for predicting weather'!

Which I can only follow up with... Praise the ghourd!

In turn, y'all have 3 Bloody Marys  as we await our nasty arch nemesis, November!!


Friday, October 27, 2017


A couple of days ago I was standing in the front reception area of our office, when I noticed two trucks from the company I use to work for, turn right at the only traffic light in town.

 Loaded full of men yet the racks empty of product, I couldn’t help but verbalize my thoughts to the two peeps standing with me. “Lookie over there,” I said.  “Five guys on a mission and nothing to install. How much do you want to bet they are going back to fix all their mistakes?!” Laughter from those within earshot quickly ensued.

It’ll be four years next month since I resigned and moved on from their employ, and I’m not sure why I’m still such a big bitch about it. Actually, that's a lie, I know exactly why. 

They're called red flags for a reason
TAKEN: Sayulita, Mexico (APRIL 2016)
Because I am fiercely loyal to a fault and the owners of that company took that immeasurable loyalty for granted. In turn, I cut my losses and walked away from what I considered to be the best job I’d ever had.

I have been seriously reflecting about my genuine sense of loyalty for about the last year and a half. As a matter of fact, last winter, for the first time since the mid-2000's, I began seeing my psychologist again. I went to her regularly in the mid 90’s after a severe and languishing bout of postpartum depression.

In that particular instance in the 90's, I wanted to understand why I constantly struggled with my inability to go from funk to fab. In turn, after a little more than a year, she’d helped me create an amazing toolbox of skills that I still lean on today which help me manage my mindset; without the use of a pharmaceutical company.

This time around, my need for assistance was a much more personal one and after a winter of coaching, by the end of March 2017 I was back to my good ole confident inner self. With her unconditional help, I have a solid knowledge and full understanding  on how to help myself combat those people that take my sense of ingrained loyalty for granted. 

As I seek further guidance, I know she'll tell me to continue to remind myself that one of the hardest journeys I’ll ever take in this life is the never-ending road to understanding how to put myself first. I understand that I am conditioned for always thinking the right thing will happen, when in fact if I were to check the overall stats, for me personally, it rarely does.

Let’s face it, I've had enough experience in this department to know that everything will be fine. To which I choose to believe, in the end, karma will be a bigger bitch than I will ever need to be; so I’m just going to be a big girl, take the high road, and call it a day. 

Just to clarify, the use of the word big in the above sentence is in the direct reference to my level of maturity and not my actual girth. Though truth be known, I could definitely stand to lose a few pounds. 

Just sayin'.

Monday, October 16, 2017


A change is as good as a rest!
TAKEN: OCTOBER 15th, 2017
It’s that time of year again.

You know, when the days get shorter and (just like my mindset)  considerably darker.

Though the fall's truly my very favourite season, for next couple of months I'll literally start placing an X on the calendar every morning until December 21st arrives; which marks the shortest day of the year.

Once I get through that 355th day on the 2017 Gregorian calendar, my mindset, mood and overall outlook on life, instinctively improve knowing the days will be getting longer.

Anyway, this past weekend I was running my personal errands and one was to get product for my ‘every three weeks like clockwork root touch up to my' completely gray hair. I hate the high maintenance aspect of the ritual but the payoff for me is that I don’t feel I look as old as I truly am.

As I loaded up my basket with a bottle of my perfume and and the couple of skincare items I live by, I headed to the hair colour aisle. My regular colour (which is more of a stain, and contains very few chemicals) was sold out.

Convinced that the melanin deficient peeps were buying up my #55 colour just to piss me off, I realized I was at a crossroads. Go looking elsewhere and not get the great sale price, or change my hair colour. Because they say a change is as good as a rest, I went an unbelievable 10 digits darker. Walking the wild side of extreme hair colourization I went from a #55 to a #65. *Gasp*

A big deal to me, as expected, no one even remotely noticed; which made no matter as I got ready for work in the dark this morn. All the lights on, the radio cranked and my hair diffuser getting it's job done, I couldn't help but giggle to myself.

It was in that moment that I realized that by going 10 digits darker on the hair colour front, I would have to be more diligent in making sure my silver roots were kept covered up. All I could say to myself was... Bring it on!

For the first time in the decades I have been dealing with seasonal affective disorder, I was going to be taking charge of my darkness.

And it seems I have my new bestfriend #65 to personally high five for that!!

How's that for a glass half full?

Wednesday, October 11, 2017


Well, my almost year long quest for a clean bill of health had me starting my work day in my home office this morning. Closing in on the end of what feels has been a bit of a mini marathon, I am glad to share that I'm feeling fan-tab-u-lus!

Because I had an appointment, I didn’t have to meet the carpool this morn. Yet, as I do every morning, I woke up on schedule to a steaming pot of fresh perked coffee and let the pups out to do what we all of do when we wake up in the morning.

Still dark outside, I found it odd that I had to almost coerce Dot back into the house with treats. As soon as the sun rose she wanted back out, so just before 8am I let her go. At her age, there’s no need to tie her as she always stays within earshot; or so I thought.

Working away I lost track of time. As my tummy rumbled for sustenance, I realized I hadn’t heard a peep from Dot. Not coming when called, I ventured into the back gully, all gussied up in the ugliest bathrobe & drop dead bedhead imaginable. What I found was my pup no longer able to stand. She'd clearly remained on high alert for her arch red nemesis for more than 3 hours, which easily displays the art of patience

Spottie Dottie on high alert for Big Red!
TAKEN: OCTOBER 11th, 2017

I have been thinking a lot about patience lately. Specifically certain people around me, and their lack thereof it. Is it a symptom of midlife and old age? Because mine seems to be increasing, opposite of my husband whose is steadfastly plummeting. Five/six years ago I use to tune it out. A couple of years ago I use to point it out. Now a days I just tend to roll my eyes, laugh about it, and carry on.

The funny thing is the topic of patience comes up once in a while in our carpool chit chat sessions and the Sweeny-Meister always wonders why I don’t let it affect me. I usually have a response that gets a true belly laugh out of her but when the laughter ceases, my final summation is always the same: why would I bother?

I truly believe that I am at the point in my life where I pick my battles and the truth of the matter is I simply no longer have any desire to fight. Though strong in spirit and a full blown extrovert, I’d rather be alone than be around unnecessary drama.

Honestly, if I look deep, I think of patience as that trigger that proves I'll never stop hoping. I truly do have such hope. So much like Dottie, I'm unwilling to give up. Even though, more often than not, my heart knows the truth.

... That I'm simply nothing but an absolute idiot. A fiercely patient, absolute idiot.

Thanks for reading.

Monday, October 9, 2017


It rained here all day Saturday. And, because my car was going to be in the shop until Tuesday, I couldn’t get the pups to the cottage for Thanksgiving weekend. Instead, I decided to do my chores at the house and stay in town.

Stir crazy from the rain in the afternoon, I decided to go hunting for the glasses I collect. My first stop was the Habitat Re-Store. When I got skunked there, I headed to the Salvation Army Thrift Store. Again, nothing on my Petro Canada glass hunt but I managed to get magnetically drawn into their used book section. I love browsing used books. I've always felt previously read books are on an individual journey each having their own story of lives they've influenced.

Thanks Sally Anne!
TAKEN: OCTBER 7th, 2017
Anyway, standing in front of hundreds of books, I began to search for the author I have read and collected since before I got married. 

Though I do read a wide variety of books I tend to find a comfort in her simplistic approach to stories. Fluff is a strong word but because I'm realistic; I'll admit they're always very formulaic & served with a large side order of fluff... and I'm OK with that.

Browsing the thrift store bookshelves Saturday, I hit the proverbial hard cover jackpot. A section dedicated to her, grouped together just waiting for me.

 I pulled up a chair and stared at them in awe. I drug my finger across the spine of each one to read the titles and pick which I wanted to entertain first. I grabbed one I'd never read but had always been drawn to its title. (She'd penned it in 1991.)

As I opened the book, my heart skipped a beat. I know this is going to read a tad corny but just like my GPS, every so often I believe the universe tends to send me directions. This was one of those moments. Once I curtailed my awe, I slammed the book shut and cradled it in my arm and started opening every other one of her books. None of them contained the note I had found in the first one I picked up. For me, the moment seemed special. Who was sending me this sign?

The common sense side of my brain told me that it was one of the elderly volunteers trying to increase used books sales, yet my imagination began to swirl with the idea that it was meant for me. Why this author? Why this book? Why me? How could I leave it for another?

A couple of days later, I still think it's neat. That said, if it really was only Gert in the back, watching and giggling as I stood there convincing myself this was a sign for me...?

All I'll say is, well played Gertrude. Well fecking played. You're a thrift store genius.

...Because I bought the well marketed book!

Tuesday, October 3, 2017


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.

Wednesday, September 20, 2017


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 was PRICELESS.

Thanks, Wolseley Lodge.... We ALL had a blast!

Tuesday, September 5, 2017


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.

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!

Monday, August 14, 2017


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!!


Tuesday, August 8, 2017


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

Saturday, July 29, 2017


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!