A reminder of an important notable... As my travel buddy hubby takes in the views from the top of El Faro, Mazatlán TAKEN: DECEMBER 2nd, 2019 |
Well, we unexpectedly bought another boat.
It will be our fourth motorized vessel in the twenty plus years we have owned Orillia Lake. It wasn’t a planned purchase but one we both agreed on. It is a twenty-foot Doral bowrider; in absolute mint condition with less than 100 hours of total motor use time.
Feel free to help us name her! TAKEN: SPRING 2023 |
Greatful that Cousin Jim (rear seen here, with his grandson on the rod) decided to upgrade! TAKEN: SUMMER 2023 |
The first few years after our cottage purchase, we got by with a five-seater paddle boat, a row boat, and parasailing board the kids could dive off of. Ultimately, the first motorized boat we bought was an older SeaRay waterski boat.
We bought it to encourage our kids to want to stay at the cottage more often. It turned out, we would float with the pups in the middle of the lake so that I could read a book in the sun and never used it for much more than that.
Wrought with mechanical issues, we ended up giving her away to a friend of a friend as we were tired paying to have her repaired.
Our first... TAKEN: JUNE 2010 |
Next, was our beloved Bessie Bowrider that we paid a whopping $300 for... and the trailer was included in the price.
Her saving grace was that her previous owner was a mechanic. Sure, she would take in a wee bit of water through the week but nothing a ShopVac couldn’t remedy. The pups loved her.
Spottie & Puddin' rocking Bessie bow rider! TAKEN: AUGUST 2014 |
A neighbour kept the road open a couple of winters ago, and she was stolen from the end of our driveway. Not wanting to invest in another, we replaced her with Stella the floating picnic table - which is propelled by an electric trolling motor.
Always a conversation piece on the lake, our bubble as well as the pups were grateful for Stella during Covid.
Spending the afternoon on Stella (l-r: Miya, Goob, Mac, Annie, Cappy-T, Puddin') TAKEN: AUGSUT 2022 |
Now, we know better than most, that this (new to us) bow rider is far larger than we need, but our final decision to buy took multiple things into consideration.
Though older, it has been babied and has only had one owner. We know for a fact that they could have sold her online for far more than we are paying, but a good home was one of their personal criteria. That, combined that it is a familial sale made the price so good, we couldn't refuse.
Lastly, our decision came from the fact that we know that we will eventually be selling the cottage (not sure when but it will be sold) and this boat will keep us and the pups touring the amazing lakes in Muskoka for years to come.
To be honest, it isn't the $3,500 price tag that concerns us, it's the price of fuel to get her off the dock.
So grateful we already own a killer trolling motor!!
#yagottalaughaboutit
There are a lot of people that have opinions about social media. Some embrace it too freely, while others wear a tin foil hat to ward of the evil of it. I guess you could say that I fall somewhere in between.
Anyway, back in July 2007 I connected via Facebook with one of my oldest brothers' best friends.
Though growing up I was nothing other than the annoying little sister, as adults, I was happy to find someone that effectively wrote for a purpose and shared their thoughts with the masses just as I do.
It didn't stop there, I loved experiencing the travelling he and his wife did together, and each year I looked forward to his annual Christmas countdown of song offerings on his saxophone.
Once his countdown started, I found myself logging on from my desk at work to see if he'd posted yet. Such great fun.
Then, via Facebook, I saw he and his bride were heading to his old stomping ground (where I still live) for the weekend for our Fire and Ice Festival this past January. Trouble was my hubby and I were headed into the city for the concert in Toronto that Saturday night.
After a quick exchange, I was excited to discover that they would be in town the night before and wanted to get together for drinks. I hadn't seen him face to face since my fathers funeral in 2005 (and only knew what his wife looked like via Facebook).
Anyway, that Friday, he kept me posted on their timing. They'd eat dinner with friends in the centre of town and we'd plan to meet at a local pub later in the evening. Goob lives just down the street, so I invited him to come meet his uncle J's childhood friend.
My husband (in red) really didn't know what to think of this group of extroverts! TAKEN: JANUARY 27th, 2023 |
Happy Eleventh Anniversary to US! TAKEN: 1976 |
Allow me to share a photo my mother took of me outside our home in Muskoka when I was eleven years old. Oh to be able to celebrate being eleven years old again.
Wait... We can. Because today is the eleventh anniversary of my wee electronic journal Ya Gotta Laugh About It.
If you are reading this, I am both pleased and grateful to report that you are helping me celebrate my nine hundredth and seventy fourth effort since I began this ride on this day back in 2011.
Can you believe it? Eleven. Freakin'. Years!
All these years later, I am honest when I admit that the offerings I have posted are truly a part of me. Yet, I'm not quite sure what made me realize my anniversary was looming. Very in tune with my seasonal affective disorder, I'd probably put gobs of cash on the time change.
As you know, the darkness of the month of November and into December have always had me crawling into the closet, throwing a blanket over my head, with a bowl of warm gravy and a spoon; specifically, so the dogs would join me.
Some of the funniest items written had tears steaming down my face. Not of joy, but because in most cases I was processing a deep hurt and moving forward. For those that know me personally (rather than just words from a keyboard that you're reading) you know that humour has always been my go to attitude in deflecting hurt.
That said, these eleven years have produced so much great dialogue, not to mention life changing friendships.
I am grateful for all of you that have inboxed me with your comments, opinions, as well as your unconditional support and feedback over the years. It's truly been a cathartic experience arriving at today
To each and every one of you peeps... A very heartfelt THANKS!
Happy 11th anniversary to us!!
One of my best friends passed away on Easter Sunday. Though we were separated by thousands of miles, we spoke on the phone at least once a week. He was mere fifty six years of age.
My avid readers will recognize his name as well as his photo, as he has appeared in several journal posts over the years (even has his own label). All very raw and still in shock, I am struggling to deal with the loss.
As a result, I have decided to share what his oldest and dearest childhood friend "Howie" posted for him on the exact day my letter S was due.
I think it paints a perfect picture of this wonderful man. The words brought me to both tears of laughter as well as deep sadness. Words can not describe how much I will miss him.
Rest in peace Smartie. Keep my seat next to you warm and your wit razor sharp....Until we meet again.
Love you always xoxo ~ Rhondi
I miss my buddy
He’s gone. That’s
what his ex-wife said to me when I answered the phone the evening of Easter
Sunday.
All who knew Brian entered a new world in that moment.
So far, that world is one of shock, disbelief, boundless
sadness and equally boundless gratitude; feelings all common in the wake of the
loss of loved one. The shock, disbelief and sadness will settle. The gratitude for all he brought to my world,
will remain forever.
His laughter was matched only by his ability to make others
laugh.
At the end of grade 7, we went on a class camping trip to
Bass Lake Provincial Park. As far as we
could tell, our teacher, modeled his classroom management style after Joseph
Stalin. From the perspective of a bunch of dumb, gangly 12-year-old boys, he
was mean.
The camping area was a large, rectangular field. Perfect to
ensure boys tents lined the perimeter of one side, girls on the other.
In line with our teacher’s overall approach, there was a
seemingly endless list of rules. Among them, very precise direction as to when
all were required to be in tents and very ominous threats of consequences if
not.
As 12-year-olds we had yet to develop much in the way of
foresight and probably worse, we had yet to develop any awareness of our limits
in that regard. Despite the dire
warnings we came up with, what we believed at the time, was an airtight plan.
Immediately after sunset and tent check, we’d leave our tents, bolt across the
field under the cover of darkness and visit our classmates with the utmost
confidence that none of this would stir even a hint of suspicion.
Once darkness set in, tent checks complete, the zippers of
16 tents rang out and the charge was on.
Almost instantly the flaw in our planning was exposed. Who would think that teachers would patrol
the tents after dark? Clearly 12-year-old boys didn’t.
Thankfully almost every one of us detected the flaw
immediately, dove back in our tents, with adrenaline surging but safe from
suffering the wrath of our teacher supervisors.
Everyone, that is, but Brian.
Peeking through our tent doors, there he was. His silhouette
like a gazelle, bounding on an open plane, all on his own, in the dark, cool,
damp, spring air completely oblivious to his solitude.
It turns out that teachers must develop an extraordinary
capacity to identify 12-year-old running boys in the dark of night.
But as Brian’s luck would have it, that wasn’t his biggest
problem.
In a highly predictable twist of fate, the world’s most
fearsome teacher spotted him immediately. We cringed as we heard him yell:
“Smart, where are you going?”
At that moment, the magnitude of Brian’s initial mistake
compounded significantly. For instead of
responding with something like, “I’m just running to the bathroom”, he chose
instead to announce, with a completely misplaced sense of sarcasm, at the top
of his lungs, “I’m going to an orgy”.
And to make matters much worse, as he was sometimes known to
do, he added, “where the fuck do you think I’m going, you asshole?”
It was too much for 12-year-old boys. We spent years
laughing about it.
And that’s what he did more than anyone I know. He laughed a
lot and he helped other people laugh a lot.
Equal to his ability to make people laugh was his ability to
build big friendships. He had more best
friends than anyone I know; he did it effortlessly, sincerely and happily. He was as comfortable with his 3-year-old
grandson as he was with the 93 year olds he was working with as part of his
studies to become a healthcare aid.
I will always be proud to call him my best friend as I know
many others are too.
The span of his musical taste was broad. Together, we saw
John Lee Hooker, The Clash, Peter Tosh, Black Uhuru, Talking Heads, The Police
(actually more than the musical kind), the English Beat, Flock of Seagulls, Eric
Clapton, the Hip, Nash the Slash, lost some/most of our hearing watching the
Headstones at the Rivoli and watched some dude throw a banana 125 meters and
land right at the feet of Joan Jett - an act of athletic prowess I have yet to
witness again.
But his greatest achievement is undoubtedly his family. His son, daughters and his wonderful grandson; they featured prominently and lovingly in virtually every single
conversation. Each of his kids inherited his greatest attributes.
Among the many things uniting the human experience is our
frailty. None of us live perfect lives. We all deal with challenges.
All of us, in our own way, do the very best we can to
accommodate those challenges.
We love our families and friends and care for our
communities, our country and the planet.
We count on those we love in our time of need.
This was especially true of Brian.
I am grateful for every second he lived his life.
I will miss him for as long as I live mine.
There are so many words I could have selected for this letter.
Justified, joyful, jaunt (a very long one) yet I ultimately chose JOVIAL.
I picked it because it was how I felt when my spouse and I reconnected with my brother (pictured below) over a fifteen hour phone call. Which is truly amazing, considering the three of us hadn’t spoken in as many years.
My big brother in the downstairs room where he first played me Hotel California on his new stereo. TAKEN: 1983 |
Growing up, I was the youngest and he the eldest of four.
Though I have many vibrant memories, my mom making him sit with me to go through the Sears Wish Book catalogue when I was about seven stands out; I can see us sitting at his desk.
That specific exercise was to help her establish what I was hoping Santa was going to bring, which must have been a drag, because as my senior he knew the real deal.
All these years later, I know he did it because he was made to, but I think he will be surprised to read that I still remember our very first Christmas in Ontario at 190 Shier Street like it was yesterday.
Growing up, I was always in awe of him. He had cool friends, played in a band, did well in school, and always seemed to have a very specific direction. I'm sure the latter had something to do with my mother but I can’t say for sure.
In our clan, he was the first and I the last. Bookends per se, for all the family adventures and stories the others grew up with. He was closest to our mother before her death, me to our dad before his.
As I share the photo I do tonight, you can see I tore it trying to take it out and scan it. So once again this challenge, I share another Kodak moment that is a picture of a picture. Funny how times have digitally changed.
As my big bro sent a text in song for my birthday, I giggled and smiled from ear to ear.
Not just because we’d reconnected…. But because he’d become my newest electronic friend, as well as he has always been one of the very few people I have always enjoy talking on the telephone with.
Who’d a friggin' thunk it? Not this cat!
In the midst of purchasing our current home, the lawyer called the day it was to close to let us know that the old shed in the backyard was encroaching on the neighbouring lot line. His professional opinion was that we should make the sellers move it.
Being the superstar handyman my husband naturally boasts being, he instructed the deal to close announcing that he would gladly relocate the shed. Pictured in the photo background, I don’t think he’s opened the door since he moved our crap into it and that was almost twenty years ago!
Anyway, when my father stayed with us in his end of life hospice care the winter of 2005, he was quick to establish friendships with the local fauna including these photogenic furry tailed bandits.
During his last housebound winter, he introduced an outdoor dining experience like no other - and by the time he left us that June, his newly established extended family understood what a glorious food source this happy go lucky chap turned out to be.
One of my many generations of friends born the spring of 2020. TAKEN: NOVEMBER 2020 |
Loving life packing only a cellphone, a credit card & a smile! TAKEN: OCTOBER 10th, 2013 |
For a number of reasons, this is one of my very favorite selfies I have ever managed to capture. I snapped it in an absolute coffee induced euphoric state, the morning after landing in Old Montreal with a girlfriend.
As the story goes, I had seen The Eagles at the ACC in Toronto the Thursday night before, then hopped a plane to Montreal to see Bon Jovi at the Bell Centre that Saturday night.
I remember embracing the brisk November morning with an extra skip in my step feeling like a brand new person. Not because I was going to venture into historic Vieux-Montréal and its amazing architecture, but because I had made the life changing decision to quit my dream job; a milestone that happened seven years ago this week.
My point?
I think some of you may be surprised to read that for the first time in years, I once again have a skip in my step and I am sporting an ear to ear smile for making yet another life altering choice. I am pleased to report that I have left my sales and marketing position within the construction industry here in Muskoka... and I couldn’t be happier.
Just like seven years ago, my decision wasn't made lightly. It was a transition I had entertained for almost six months. If I am being honest, the reason for the lag was because I had struggled to wrap my mind around the logistics of such a life altering shift.
Like most things in life, timing is everything. I guess you could say, just like the day I snapped this selfie, I had to invest in myself and trust the timing in my life. Even with that trust, I worried my glass may feel half empty. Hence those months it took me to finally decide.
As everyone knows, this isn't rocket science. A job is a job, that in the end you get paid for simply doing a job - and people leave jobs all the time.
In this instance, my personal struggle came with the more than a hundred people I was blessed to get to know and work alongside of with a great sense of pride. It didn't matter which, I was connected to each and every one of them... How could I go?
In the end, transitioning has had zero effect with those I was closest with. Social media has helped close the landline conversation gap and not a day goes by that my phone isn’t a buzz with a meme, a text, or a call from one of many. I guess you could say our friendships are a different kind of payday for simply treating people the way we wanted to be treated.
As I wrap up my post and head over to Spotify, I can't help but reflect on those amazing few days and two great back to back concerts seven years ago. Today has me embracing, blasting, and singing, a number of those really great tunes performed live.
But for whatever reason... Already Gone by the Eagles and It's My Life by Bon Jovi seem to be bringing down the house!
Sorry. Couldn't resist the obvious comical musical punchline.
#yagottalaughaboutit
The random gift of a Tim Horton's coffee is always good idea! PHOTO: Me awaiting my birthday flight to New Orleans TAKEN: APRIL 6th, 2017 |
Sharing more of the love the following evening with these amazing peeps! Memories Flamenco Beach Resort ~ Cayo Coco, Cuba TAKEN: FEBRUARY 14th, 2019 |
There is NEVER a bad time to get a visit from my Best Friend... TAKEN: MAY 1985 |
Downtown Toronto... MY ULTIMATE LOVE TAKEN: AUGUST 3rd, 2018 |
Blog selfie that still appears on my Facebook blog page. @YaGottaLaughAboutIt TAKEN: September 2011 |
The summer of 2012. Puddin' was just a wee pup and Dot got to spend extra paddle time alone with me! TAKEN: JUNE, JULY & AUGUST 2012 |
She was one for the record books! TAKEN: JAN-DEC 2017 |
Thanks, Wolseley Lodge.... We ALL had a blast! TAKEN: SEPTEMBER 16th, 2017 |