M IS FOR MINGBOGGLING

The statement above is a mindboggling, albeit accurate statement.
...Something I will never be able to laugh about!

A IS FOR ASHLEY

May my beautiful friend and coworker forever rest in peace.
(Beautiful photo from her LinkedIn profile)

It was the last Friday afternoon of this past January. 

My boss and I had just finished our end of day call, when he empathetically said, “I have some news to share.” Then, after a long pause he said, “Ashley was killed in a car accident early yesterday morning.”

In that moment, it was like I had been punched in the throat. My mind began swirling, and I was in a complete state of disbelief. This girl had the most amazing energy and sense of kindness, I instantly fell into a general state of shock.

Fast forward from that Friday night to Sunday morning. I couldn’t find any information online, other than there had in fact been a vehicular fatality in that area the morning I was told she passed. 

So, by mid-Sunday morning I reached out to a coworker to go fishing for facts. I couldn’t stop thinking about it and I wanted to confirm that there hadn’t been some sort of bizarre misunderstanding. She quickly confirmed it was in fact her that had died.

Flash to the next Tuesday, when the rumblings shift to the chatter that her husband was being investigated for foul play in her death. In that moment, all I could do was be angry at the potential small town gossip.

Low and behold he was formally charged that Friday with second degree murder and indignity to a dead body and is being held without bail. 

His charges were then formally upgraded to first degree murder on February 17th, 2023.

Though I want to be angry at the person accused of taking her life, he doesn't deserve any space in my mind. That said, I can’t help but focus my empathy and worry to their two young children, both under the age of ten. Still processing all of this, it is so sad that they lost both of their parents that day. 

Not that I am anyone special in the big scheme of all of this, I am just one of many that is extremely grateful to have been able to call Ashley Schwalm my friend. I will always miss my former coworker dearly.

Rest in peace my beloved Schwalmster. 

Because if there is one thing you deserve, it's to forever sleep easy. 

S IS FOR SWEETIE

My Sweetie and me enjoying a Cafe de Monde beignets in the French Quarter, NOLA.
TAKEN: MAY 30th, 2019

From the April A-Z Blogging archives.
This was originally posted April 22nd, 2020

It was five years ago this week that my Sweetie moved home from Calgary. It pains me to remember just how emotionally spent and somewhat broken she was when we picked her up at the airport. 

She’d invested her trust and love to a person that was not only mentally unstable but extremely abusive. As silly as this may read, as a mother, the first telltale sign for me how lost she was, was that she’d dyed her beautiful long curly hair jet black.

Five years later, she's working hard at a full time job, made some exciting new friendships, not to mention nurtured and re-established solid friendships she’d left behind. More importantly, she's finally let certain people go. Those that have ultimately lied and betrayed her over and over again.

So many things come to mind for me when I look at the picture but first and foremost it tells me just how far my daughter has come. The quite, teary mouse, that returned home, has now reverted in the firecracker we know and love. 

Though there are (and probably always will be) scars, I think she realizes that her future is much brighter than the darkness that surrounded us five years ago.

K IS FOR KNOWING

From the April A-Z Blogging archives.

This was originally posted April 13th, 2020

I've been diligently following what's been happening with COVID-19 since Monday January 20th, when overnight I got a fever so high and  phlegm so thick, that I cried when my husband went to leave me at 6am to go to work.

I begged him not to leave me alone, I couldn't breathe and I have never been so sick. I discovered later, my teacher for the course I was taking in Downtown Toronto, whom had a cough in class, had been to China over the Christmas break.

At the advice of a well versed office colleague (I infected) we delayed booking my April birthday travel, watching what was happening in China, we began keeping an inventory of our perishable food items. 

For whatever reason, in mid-March I was told to STOP creating havoc... but all I really wanted was for people to understand there's really next to no risk here in Muskoka, if we stay put. Example: If you're out and about, try to stay six or ten feet apart from your closest shopper. Wash your hands. Wear a mask.

Spend time together with your loved ones you live with and take yourselves back to grassroots socialization. Build a fire, roast marshmallows. Reconnect!!

At the end of the day, I'm positive I'll read what a waste of time all of this was. Those will be from the people that don't venture outside their Facebook page to research the global reality.

Our blessing is that Canada have never stopped investing in research since SARS. I have faith we are well ahead of the rest of the world when it comes to our safety. 

Please... Be kind. Be considerate. Be compassionate; for those that may be in need your help for many months to come.

This isn't going away tomorrow!

TRICKY TRAVEL TALK

Last week, after noticing that some of my Canadians snowbird pals were beginning to flock south until next spring, I decided to open up a social media discussion on the possibility of upcoming travel to the Caribbean in the winter of 2021. 

I knew I might be encroaching on a tricky topic with some controversial dialogue happening, yet in the wide reaching forum I created, my network answered both respectfully and with personal honestly.

Wind blown, cruising the Mississippi River aboard The Natchez New Orleans
TAKEN: MAY 29th, 2019

As I sit here and type, I can't help but revisit the very first comment on my thread. A seasoned traveler wrote – “No travel until I’m vaccinated!”

On the day of the election of the 46th President of the United States, I can’t help but wonder what’s next in both the virus protection and travel departments. 

Right or wrong, a vaccine produced without proof of proper exploratory stages, pre-clinical development and regulatory review for approval, is not something I am rushing to put into my body. 

The shoe on the other foot reminds me that my thread wasn't intended to be a vaccination debate, more about travel input and opinions as I am hoping to hatch a plan and ultimately travel while respecting imposed limitations.  

With my sunny wings potentially grounded indefinitely, I know I could always travel and remain in Canada,  which is probably my best option at this point. I have family and friends out it BC, so that may be my overall 2021 birthday trip goal.

That said, vaccine or not, if the mandatory 14-day quarantine upon return to Canada is lifted, I will be sitting on a beach in the Caribbean quicker a snowsquall can move into Muskoka knocking out a neighbourhood of Bell satellite dishes.

Trust me.... Here, with our unpredictable winter storm crap?

That's 5G, Flash Gordon, blink and pack because you're leaving on a plane, fast! 

#nufsaid

LEAF IT TO ME

Raking leaves... My pregame for snow shoveling!
TAKEN: OCTOBER 8th, 2020

When walking in the evening with the pups the last couple of weeks, I noticed the neighbouring yards quickly filling with colourful foliage. 

Tonight, a sight to behold, I couldn’t help but giggle thinking those vibrant leaves offer their ultimate beauty… When they are being cleaned up by someone other than me!

As you know, I chronicle in this electronic journal every October just how much I love this time of year. Everything feels crisp, the wood burning stove at the cottage makes everything really cozy, and gravy officially becomes my favourite food group. 

For whatever reason, I find there is a harmony offered in autumn that no other season brings. A mellow sense of calming that I've enjoyed and embraced which always brings me into a familiar cyclical rhythm.

The leaves fall and get cleaned up. Enough wood gets split and piled. The garage gets cleaned out of spring and summer crap... and weekly outdoor burning of yard debris kicks off with the help of a wee bit of gasoline. 

For some strange reason, specific fall activities seem to help me prepare mentally for the bright white blanket that arrives in early January; when my snowshoes relieve my angst.

All of that shared, I can’t help but be preoccupied with the fact that this will be the first fall in the last six that I won’t be jumping on a plane for a burst of November vitamin D. 

I was chatting with my bestie today. She also suffers with Seasonal Affective Disorder in the same way I do. With everything locked down, we discussed what the next six months of darkness may offer. I know there’s no magic wand that can help but I am hopeful our daily check ins and dialogue will get us through.

As World Mental Health Day approaches October 10th, I can’t help look to the inspiring quote: “When darkness comes, let us not condemn the dark, but light a light to illuminate it.”

They mean that I need to buy more happy lights, right?

Because that’s how interpret it... as I head online with my credit card!

A SNACK BRACKET

My very favourite client was in the office last week and he said to me… “Rhondi, just like you, I’ve had Covid-19.”

We burst out laughing after he continued with, “At the end of all of this, I’m not sure if it will end up being nineteen pounds, or nineteen kilograms!” 

I don’t know about you, but as an emotional eater, I can generally peg the time of year when circus music begins to chime in my ear signaling me to buy stock in the most profitable potato chip company. And I can assure you, every fall, any and all are generously sampled; as part of my annual stock purchase evaluation.

What can I say. I was a fat toddler. I was power fed homogenized milk, and in those days the perception was the fatter the better. The good news is I shed that baby fat, the bad news is those formed fat cells follow you forever.

I have always been athletic and outgoing but when perimenopause clicked in everything changed. My body absorbed food differently and in one year my metabolism changed exponentially. It was in that moment I knew I was being put to pasture.

Kicking and screaming and the better part of a year later, I lost the excess weight and changed my lifestyle. That was in 2012.

Even with a major change in lifestyle, winters and my seasonal affective disorder in this harsh tundra have me pulling my gravy crutch out of the hall closet bringing the five or ten pound of weight gain that accompany it. The good news is those extra pounds were always shed before I ever had to appear in any sort of summer shorts or swimming outfit. 

This year? We locked down. I filled up. The rest is history!

I want to shed the pounds I’ve gained yet I am a creature of habit. 

If gravy has a crutch, my philosophy that if I share with the pups I am really only taking in 1/3 of the calories must be a motorized wheelchair. One chip for each of you, one chip for me. One jelly bean for each of you, one jelly bean for me; and trust me, I am always fair in the distribution department.

I guess you could say that the only way the dogs keep the upper paw on me is because they don't have to share their dog cookies with me. Though I must say, on occasion the label on the front of the box has made it cross my mind.

Not gonna lie.... Those gravy covered Milk Bone dog biscuits definitely land within my mid-winter snack bracket!!

#yagottalaughaboutit

It would appear that Annie and I have similar snackage struggles
TAKEN: AUGUST 7th, 2020

S IS FOR SWEETIE

My Sweetie and me enjoying a Cafe de Monde beignets in the French Quarter, NOLA.
TAKEN: MAY 30th, 2019

It was five years ago this week that my Sweetie moved home from Calgary. It pains me to remember just how emotionally spent and somewhat broken she was when we picked her up at the airport. 

She’d invested her trust and love to a person that was not only mentally unstable but extremely abusive. As silly as this may read, as a mother, the first telltale sign for me how lost she was, was that she’d dyed her beautiful long curly hair jet black.

Five years later, she's working hard at a full time job, made some exciting new friendships, not to mention nurtured and re-established solid friendships she’d left behind. More importantly, she's finally let certain people go. Those that have ultimately lied and betrayed her over and over again.

So many things come to mind for me when I look at the picture but first and foremost it tells me just how far my daughter has come. The quite, teary mouse, that returned home, has now reverted in the firecracker we know and love. 

Though there are (and probably always will be) scars, I think she realizes that her future is much brighter than the darkness that surrounded us five years ago.

G IS FOR GRASS

I am a firm believer that the grass is never greener on the other side.
It only appears that way... Because it's showered with bullshit!

B IS FOR BIRTHDAY

Happy Birthday to ME.
TAKEN: APRIL 1982

Well, it’s that time of year again. 

You know, when your special day rolls around on the calendar to remind you that you're one step closer to support hose, dentures, and really long afternoon naps!

I may be turning older this month, but this year the day will be considerably different than my last. I had a great birthday last year (probably one of the best ever) but my mindset wasn’t as good as it is this year. Like I always say, change is good.

As busy as I am, I know my day will come and go. I'm hopeful the odd person will wish me all the best, I’ll be grateful, I always am.

There will not be a cake. No gifts will be given. I’ll look in the mirror, thank God I am alive, and pray in the coming year I don’t fall and break a hip.

Anyway, because I've never really celebrated my birthday, there are very few pictures marking the specific day. The photo I am sharing was taken thirty something years ago next week. 

The cake and photo were courtesy of my favourite cousin Joanne, and the pic was snapped at their kitchen counter in North Bay. I remember that very day, it was a Saturday. I remember I was happy and it was a very happy time in my life. 

All of that said, the fact that it’s my birthday month means I get to do my math any way I choose...

This year, I'll be one very happy 29 year old!!

A FRIEND IN NEED

Let's all pull together to help Duncan!
(Photo usage permissions given)

I’m not exactly sure why, but there’s something truly extraordinary about staying connected with childhood friends.

Part of me leans toward the fact that even though we may have grown apart socially or geographically, our formative years were spent discovering so many life lessons together, we generally work to remain linked.

That said, the other side of today’s very insightful coin is that there’s never a good way to deliver bad news. And last week, we received some heart wrenching news about our lifelong friend, Duncan MacDonald.

If you’ve never met Duncan, I’m sad to say you’ve been deprived of an amazing energy like no other. In the last thirty years, never once have I bumped into him that he didn’t call me by name, with a cheerful hello, and an ear to ear smile. He is extremely humble and personifies a positive person.

Well, this fine lad has had an unexpected set back. He woke about a week ago, in excruciating pain, unable to walk. Suffice it to say, he has been given a diagnosis that has a long road map to recovery attached. 

So, I am doing something I've never done since I began this silly electronic journal almost ten years ago. I’d like to ask for your help.

There is a fundraiser being held for him at the Bracebridge Legion (168 Muskoka Rd S) on Saturday March 7th at 7 pm. Tickets are $20.

Ideally I’d like to see you there, but feel free to buy a ticket to simply help, or message me directly if you'd like to make a personal or corporate donation.

If none of the above work for you, I'd like to ask you to do something equally as valuable - and share my post to help others know Duncan is in hospital.

Let’s face it. I don’t know what I’d do if this ever happened to me.

What I do know is, that Duncan MacDonald would immediately get in touch with my husband, to find out what HE could do to help.

...Because that's just that kinda guy he is!

REMEMBERING 2019

Most Significant Moment: 

The unexpected and very tragic passing of my sister in law Pamela Peacock.

She passed October 28th, 2019 and was only 39 years old. 

Pictured here in the middle, may this beautiful face, forever rest in peace.

My year in the rear view!
TAKEN: Throughout 2019

January:  My renovation project 'Popcorn Ceiling Begone' got underway. It lasted three months and the next floor gets underway again in January 2020. 

February: Spent an amazing week walking the miles of beach in Cayo Coco, Cuba.

March: My Spotti Dotti and her best friend by the bonfire. (Her very favourite thing to do!)

April: My birthday trip to New York City. It was amazing having my son as my tour guide and seeing Billy Joel at Madison Square Garden.

May: Took a Mommy/Daughter weekend trip to New Orleans, Louisiana. Here she is on Bourbon Street!!

June: My beloved Toronto Raptors won the 2019 NBA title.

July: The very difficult decision was made to allow Dot to finally sleep easy and rest in peace.

August: Spent the majority of this month and next living with the pups at the cottage. The solitude was exactly what I needed.

September: Played hostess for our company's bi-annual team building fishing trip on the west end of Lake Nippissing.

October: Was sickened by the entire federal election campaign bullshit that took place.

November: During my week long vacation I hiked to the top to the El Faro Lighthouse in Mexico

December: A whirlwind month that finally slowed down on Christmas Eve. Marking, what will hopefully be, a couple of new traditions.

Bullet points aside, this past year had me dealing with serious illness, the loss of several cherished loved ones, as well as a fur baby. 

I think a combination of all of the events is why now, more than ever, I am going to try not to focus my energy on others that aren't going to enhance my personal life and my loved ones around me for the better. 

As I have written here before, I believe sometimes all people need is a hand to hold, an ear to listen, and a heart to understand them. I think that is going to be my motto for the next year and surround myself accordingly.

Welcome 2020. 

Let's make it one of the best ones yet!

WINTER SUCKS!

My photos were taken exact 163 hours apart.
I really do dread this time of year!
TAKEN OCTOBER 27th & NOVEMBER 1st, 2019

I don't know about you, but fall for me is like an amazing twelve week shopping spree that eventually ends with an epic case of buyer’s remorse. 

It's as if Labour Day is the milestone signaling me to head the shopping mall. Thanksgiving brings the expensive and very euphoric sexy shoe purchase, and by Halloween the fun becomes strained.

Ultimately, by the time we turn the clocks back, the Visa bill with interest arrives; and that final buzz kill leaves me grumpy for the six long months of winter that follow.

As you know, the time change is a big deal for me. So many things I dread just naturally happen. Every. Single. Year.

Almost immediately after we 'fall back', I leave for work in the dark and arrive home under the same circumstance. The swashbuckling pirates that produce my bogus hydro bill begin to circle like vultures, and it takes every fiber of self-restraint to not put gravy on absolutely everything I eat. As an emotional eater, at least I know the latter feeds into my 24-7 need for comfort, when I am simply always glum.

All my bitching aside, I understanding time is precious and I truly do hate to wish it away but 2019 has not been a remarkable year of magnificent for me. Rather, I feel I have been repeatedly tested.

The truth is, with 61 days left until the year ends, I sense I’m in high school again. Specifically in grade 12 Chemistry when my teacher gave me a passing grade. Not because I'd aced his class, just simply because I'd tried as hard as I could and never once gave up.

Reinforcing, yet again, that even if you didn't have a shit year nor suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder,  there are two things I know to be true.

That life is really hard, right up until the moment it isn't.

... and that WINTER SUCKS!

MY CANINE SUMMER SHIFT

Well, I woke up at 7am this morning, poured myself a hot cup of java, then packed the majority of my crap and moved back into town mid morning. 

It wasn’t my general intention when I went to bed last night, but I think I woke a tad panicked that I would come home to certain stresses at dawn tomorrow morning. 

The good news is I didn’t. I’d done all the laundry at the cottage Saturday & Sunday morning, and aside from the lawn needing to be mowed, all my other chores were done and the house clean.

I don’t know about you but I hate a mess. I hate unnecessary clutter, but most importantly, I hate if you walk into my home or cottage and you know I have dogs... Aside from the fact that they’ll drive you crazy with their incessant barking to announce the importance of your very formal arrival. 

Which brings me to my point. I haven’t written here about losing my beloved Spottie Dottie this summer. Truth is, it’s still too raw. What I will admit, is that I never realized how much work three dogs were, until I only had to tend to two.

My Dot never had an issue with the sound of a camera. RIP ole girl.
TAKEN: 2007-2019

The other thing that is hard to admit is how much dysfunction I enabled having an elder dog in long term palliative care.

Eight weeks after putting Dot out of her misery, the realization that she suffered far more than she needed to, and her mood swings (due to her cancer) took a serious toll on everyone, including both my other pups.

That said, I always knew that Puddin’ and Annie would thrive as a pack of two. If not for the likeness of their temperament, then for the unconditional acceptance of the life we have made for them. 

For the last couple of years, Dottie made Puddin’s life a living hell. Simply because she could.

I have spent the past couple of months focused on reprogramming her, yet she still feels the need to be in a constant state of submission because Dot needed to remain in charge until her death.

Anyway, about a month after we buried Dot, my boss cheerfully asked me, “when are you getting another dog?” My response was a quick and very pointed, “I’M NOT!”

The old adages of “once bitten twice shy or three’s a crowd,” immediately came to mind. Like other things in my past, I have no desire to EVER take that journey again. 

Instead, I will just bask in the memories I have of my three and be grateful my boss lets me dog sit his Golden Retriever, Charlie (lower left). Yup, our Charlie only has two angels to lead not three, 

After just spending his first weekend with us since Dottie parted, I'd say it suited him just fine!

COLOUR MY WORLD

Have you ever heard the saying, ‘your best laid plans never hatch?’

You see, I was supposed to go see Chicago (the band) Friday night but folded like a lawn chair because I just didn’t have any fuel left in my tank.

Though my plans had been in place before my birthday trip to New York, I had no idea my precious Toronto Raptors would win the NBA title, keeping me up until 2am and have me sitting at my desk less than six hours later.

So, I abandoned the tickets but managed to keep my end of day hair appointment.

My plan was to simply pop in for a trim, but when I sat in the chair & spied myself in the mirror, I instantly knew I needed some sort of a change.

Truth is, in the moment I wished I could instantly drop 20lbs & be 21 again; but changing my hair colour seemed like an excellent starting point at 4pm on a quiet Friday afternoon.

Excited that my rainy day photo wasn't a selfie...
TAKEN: JUNE 15th, 2019

Change. Such a big word.

As I sit here and type, I know one thing to be true. I’m not looking toward any type of change to be able cope, rather because I need to shift and move in a different direction.

Now, don’t for a minute imagine that I’m stupid enough to think that a few highlights in my hair are going to somehow verbalize that a new Sheriff's landed in town and things are gonna change... Rather, I guess I’m hoping this small tweak might give me a wee bit more confidence, to start saying DON'T when I need to.

My rant complete, my biggest regret is that I need to make up for missing an amazing show Friday night with another road trip. So, as I listen to Chicago II cranked on vinyl, I realize that not only do they ‘Colour My World’, my kick-ass hairdresser does too!

The moral of my story? If it doesn’t make you feel fabulous; don’t do it, don’t buy it, don’t wear it, don’t eat it, don’t keep it.

Much easier said, than done.

...If I do say so myself!

O IS FOR OPTION

My 2019 April A-Z Blogging Challenge posts will primarily consist of words & corresponding quotes.

(...With the odd opinionated electronic journal entry inserted to keep you on your toes.)

M IS FOR MARRIAGE

My 2019 April A-Z Blogging Challenge posts will primarily consist of words & corresponding quotes.

(...With the odd opinionated electronic journal entry inserted to keep you on your toes.)

THE SKIN I AM IN

Relaxing on the beach
in Cayo Coca
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 2017

As I do when I prepare for any trip into the sun, I always throw out the old & purchase new sunscreen products. With my goal to better understand online shopping in 2019, I headed over to Amazon.

Wasting more time than expected trying to find the crap I was looking for, I received a personal message about a picture I posted to Facebook yesterday. They continued to comment that, 'I am looking better with age'.

After I made my standard offer to buy them some glasses, I stated the obvious. I matter a factually text back, ‘you know that’s a big fat lie, right?’

The messenger conversation continued as I expressed  that I wished I was still in my 30’s. Then, after looking back through that time via my photo albums this afternoon, I realized that I honestly never really hit my stride until my 40’s. 

That decade offered it all. Ranging from undeniable heartbreak, to the euphoric sense of being surrounded by true & unconditional love and personal happiness. 

Though it was the decade I achieved the most financial success, it was also the one where I suffered a full blown mid-life identity crisis. Year for year, there were very important life lessons in all of them; and I understand that I got to today, being grateful for each & every one of those lessons.

Be it my 30's or my 40's, I was appreciative of the kind words of my friend today. We both know I need to lose some weight, yet he chose to not focus there. Instead, we focused on the journey of our friendship. The truth is, we've always been good friends to each other. Comfortable, never confrontational. At times we've agreed to disagree... like we did today. 

I find it interesting what men typically disclose they find sexy in women. I work with a gaggle of men, and always find it intriguing to listen to them talk on the subject of perceived female sexuality around the water cooler.

It always warms my heart when they try to shock me with their antics. Yet, at the end of the day, they always set up the perfect volley for my spike. The key to saying anything that may be shocking and of a sexual nature is timing. Timing, and that you know you believe what you're saying.

Part of me thinks they have a pool going, as to if I'll bite on the bait they are serving me. What can I say? I try not to be predicable. I am always just me. That said, there are three things about myself I truly wear as (what I consider) badges of honour.

Though I do take pride in my appearance, my first badge is my powerful confidence in knowing the person I've truly evolved into. My generally warped albeit very witty sense of humour comes in a close second, and the fact that I am completely & totally comfortable in the skin I’m in completes my personal trifecta.

As I hope I age with grace,  I never want to get disconnected from the above three identifiers. Because let's face it, beauty fades.

...And I hear that Botox, as well as any/all other age averting enhancements hurt like hell!

RHONDI's RENOVATING!

Growing up, thanks to having a sister and their parents limited mortgage borrowing power, my boys always shared a bedroom. Then, once we all weathered an unforeseen hospice journey in our new home, that extra room was offered to my eldest son; finally granting him a bedroom of his own. He was in his teens.

A creative soul since birth, Jukebox immediately decided he wanted to redecorate, and asked to paint his new space a very vibrant orange. Striving to prove that I wasn't a total control freak, I simply internalized my immediate anxiety attack, then agreed to his unconventional colour choice.

All these years later, though other rooms have received new flooring & updated colours, what's now my home office remains that popular fall colour that rhymes with no other. I suppose it's because I knew once I accepted the 'ultimate orange room renovation challenge', the rest of the house simply HAD to follow. 

You see, though I love the layout of my home, it's been blessed with 'popcorn ceilings'. An interior design (once considered somewhat sexy) plaster application, that was popular when every kid in the neighborhood had to be home before the street lights came on, and your mama wasn't afraid to spank you.

Though the crap in the home has been painted twice since the its purchase, I've known for years the retro look needed to go. So, with the help of YouTube and an ambitious renovation schedule, the now famous orange room officially lost its 1980's 'early heritage status' yesterday!

Wearing my fancy fur-lined CROCS were just one of my many renovation mistakes yesterday!
TAKEN: JANUARY 12th, 2019

After the experience, I would love to share that my plaster removal video training had me feeling the same euphoria that beautiful puppies & very expensive wine offer, yet that would be a bold-faced lie.

Even with my decision to outfit my chair in the ugliest fitted bed sheet destine for landfill, in a room draped in plastic that I swear could have been prepared by Dexter, things did not go as smoothly as planned.

Though I appreciate my YouTube video schooled me to spray water on the plaster before removing it, it did not warn against the true downside of doing so. Therefore, I gave said training video a thumbs down.

Why? The room, my hair, my clothing, my slippers, my skin were all covered in a paste like substance I magically, albeit, unexpectedly created. 

That said, my reason for my negative review was 100x's bigger than anything listed above.

You see, I always sing when I work.

And that stuff, though generally moist & bad in texture...

Tastes absolutely awful!!

MY PERFECT GLOW

I don’t know about you, but there's a handful of things that instantly remind me of early childhood happiness. Those few things are so vivid, that in a nanosecond I feel four or five years old again. This time of year, it’s the beautiful nighttime glow of multicoloured Christmas tree lights that warm my heart.

All these years later, I recall the longest trimming ritual (aside from placing the single strands of silver tinsel) was putting the heavy tin reflectors on the large string of bulbs. Boy, those large painted bulbs got hot so quickly, that getting to enjoy their illuminated beauty in the evening was always a treat. Simply because they were never allowed to stay on very long. All reminiscent memories but the awe of those beautiful lights remain ingrained in my spirit; all these decades later.

From the time we bought our first home, an artificial tree was traditionally assembled & disassembled using specific calendar days as a guide. Then, when my dad passed in 2005, I didn’t have the energy nor the desire to bother, so a real tree was purchased less than a week before Christmas was set to arrive. I’ve purchased a real tree ever since.

ONLY multicoloured
lights for this cat.
TAKEN: DECEMBER 24th, 2018

This year, I hit the jackpot at my grocery store tree lot. I paid my forty five bucks and brought this absolute beauty home. 

As I began to string the lights from the inside out, I had to make an additional trip to Canadian Tire for more lights. In total, I managed to load my tree with close to 600 of one of my favourite things.

Running on a timer at dusk, from the time I turned that last corner on my street before landing at the house, I could see the glow of my lights in the living room window. 

Then, each night until the Christmas break, I would finish the dinner chores and settle into watch my evening episode of Jeopardy. I would find my channel, stretch out & admire my beautiful tree.

Then, every night, something always made me stop and reflect.

It wasn't because the kids are grown and gone, doing there own thing, there wouldn't be much under it. It was that my Dad wasn’t sitting on the couch next to me...

Enjoying my beautifully lit tree.