MY MARTIAN!

My martian and I at the top of El Faro with the Port of Mazatlan in the background.

TAKEN: NOVEMBER 30th, 2019

Apparently, what happens in Mazatlan, doesn’t stay in Mazatlan. It returns to Canada as a gastro-intestinal bug that lingers and gurgles for the better part of two weeks!

Aside from that, I managed to make it home unscathed. Thankfully the weather cleared and a half decent suntan was achieved.  A couple of books were read and our flight home was both comfortable and uneventful; just like the rest of the week away.

I’m sorry. I didn’t intend for that to read ungrateful. I’m very grateful. But this destination was different than any other we’ve ever visited. This trip’s the very first time that I felt uneasy in my resort surroundings. So much so that I didn’t like to walk anywhere alone; and I am VERY independent.

For example, even though it was one of the nicest beaches we’ve stayed on, and I absolutely loved swimming in the Pacific, we returned to our room immediately after dinner in the evening and only ventured off resort once.

Where we took the Colectivo (public transit) in Mayan Riviera, we decided to hire a Pulmonia driver to tour with us for the day when we ventured into the city. The little more than one hundred dollars Canadian was money very well spent.

The driver was a result of us being warned, after we arrived, that the people in this area of Mexico have a preconceived notion that all Canadians are extremely wealthy; and therefore you are always a possible target. 

You can imagine in a resort as large as where we stayed (almost 800 rooms) and only a handful of occupants being Canadian, just how small a presence we had. It was intimidating and frankly quite scary.

Anyway, home and settled with yet another passport stamp, I have to admit that the core of the city that caters to tourism was absolutely stunning. I have scads of amazing photos that I will be able to reminisce over for years to come.

That said, once we were home and settled, my husband began searching the cost of month long rentals on the beach where we stayed. Which made me stop and wonder.

What did he misunderstand about my verbalizing my fears and witnessing how sick I got? And how will we manage to stay married spending our early retirement winter months apart?

Once again unequivocally proving that my man is definitely from Mars.

Because this here cat?

Ain’t NEVER goin' back! 

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!!

OUT with the OLD!

Let me start by saying the chore accomplished today was something we've pondered doing since before my Dad died in 2005. It's always been in the back of our minds, yet we'd never bothered to conjure up a plan of attack. It’s simply been ‘something we wanted to do.’ 

As you know, my changing jobs last December had me spending 100% of my time at home. By the time the snow left in July, I had a plan and a budget. Having experienced NO summer, and winter approaching faster than Honey Boo Boo on a bowl of ice cream, timing had to be pulled ahead. As a result, "PROJECT TEAR DOWN" was scheduled for this past weekend.

DOT checking out the new view. I LOVE IT...
Let the expansion begin!
TAKEN: SEPTEMBER, 2014 

With a great plan in place, our Muskoka Room was demolished today in record time.

Here's the after pic... and the new view of our backyard.

For whatever reason, this was really the first project Jukebox has been involved in at home for quite some time. I have to admit, I forgot the balance he brings. It was truly nice to have a third opinion.

I know, I know, I know; I was just a labourer moving the crap they destroyed... BUT, I didn't just get to move crap (she said with a sinister laugh) they let me burn stuff..... REALLY BIG STUFF.

What a totally exhausting, albeit rewarding day. Who knew all these years later Poppa's vision for our yard would finally be coming to fruition.

Once again.... To his credit...He was totally bang on!

Orange You Going To Ask…?

You probably assessed from my post Friday night that I did NOT have a banner day. Pretty sure it wasn't the heat wave that did it, but rather the wave of heat (meaning my temper) that obliterated a couple of not so innocent bystanders.

What can I say? In the industry I work in, you either function at my pace or get the hell outta dodge. I wasn’t mean, I was assertive. I always try to give solid direction but once or twice a year I need to add a little volume for effect. Friday was ACDC opening for Led Zeppelin kinda loud. 

Bright side is that home is my haven. Knowing my frame of mind, my husband and daughter met me right after work so we could enjoy a nice dinner together. Instead I arrived home to an expensive dog buffet and some serious shock. Shit day at work, crap mess at home. There were tears.

I didn’t yell at the dog, nor say anything to anyone in the house. I just sat on the crapper in the ensuite and quietly wept. Great big tears. The kind that flow from disappointment. Disappointment in myself for yelling. Disappointment in myself for not locking up my fecking shoe cupboard.

Orange has always been my favourite flavour &
it's definitely one of my very favourite colours.
Taken: July 21st, 2013

As I quietly melted down my husband let me do just that and headed to town to run a couple of errands. 

Half an hour later I was in the kitchen with a jumbo straw in a 750ml bottle of Pinot Grigio when Tony walked in with a beautiful bouquet of roses.

Three years ago he would have simply asked “are we still going out for dinner?” 

Friday, he went and picked up dinner, and bought me these wonderful flowers.

What can I say? I started to cry again. “I know you had a really bad week” he said. 

Through my second wave of tears I put my arms around him, my head on his shoulder, and thanked him. I could only muster a handful of words which were…. I love you.

I AM a very lucky lady.

B Is For… BUBBLE BATH

What do I love more than having a bubble bath? Making it a bubble bath for two!

I’m not talking when the dogs set their chin on the side of the tub, or my husband's standing over top of me asking if he needs to pick up the mail (or something at the grocery store). I’m talking about the very best kind...

You know the one? When you have to add more hot water because the first batch has cooled off, and you're both in such a relaxed state, that you don’t want it to end. My favourite thing? When  candles get lit, and you listen to music together. Better yet, where the mirror gets steamy, and your glass of wine remains chilled.

That right there is what I consider to be the perfect bubble bath. You know the type? The one you never make time, nor ever take the time, to have!

April 2nd, 2013 - Bubble Bath
Taken: Feb 5th, 2012

Hey... Aside from it being by favourite thing to do, I have to ask the question; do I get two points for the double B’s?

Hey look at me go!

Big Boobs

Beautiful Bracebridge

Bad Breath

Ball Breaker

BMLSS Broncos

Big Bird

Blackfly Bites

or

Baby Boomer

Better yet, how about BLISSFULLY BADGERING B for 3?

What can I say? Take the easy points when they're there for the taking! Lord knows that I have worked really hard for every single one I have ever earned and then some!!

Walk A Mile In Your Own Shoes…

On a scale of one to ten yesterday ended around a two. From a personal point of reference; I am only giving it a two because one is the loneliest number, and I refused to go below zero.  That said, I woke up this morning embracing my simple philosophy to “greet each new day” and by golly it worked!

I may be crazy busy at work but I am also transitioning at home. Follow the bouncing ball here; the nest was empty, the nest became partially full, the nest was really full, and now it's scheduled to empty again one final time April 1st. This time around, there isn’t any sadness associated with the transition, rather a more certain kind of relief.

Here's the final Jeopardy question. When do we push our young to strive for success on their own? Some would say never; but that’s probably because they no longer know their spouse, nor have an  identity outside their children. That use to be me. That is no longer me.

My oldest left for good a year ago last December. I always ask how he's doing and we continually watch him on YouTube. Out of the nest, he's made some very serious progress. Others pose their love to him and vent their frustration with me; so to this day, I am sure he feels the same way about me as the day he left, and I am okay with that. I've got big shoulders. I'd like to be able to say breasts but shoulders will have to do.

Hello my name is Rhondi...

I know absolutely nothing and
I am a great big hairy BITCH!
Taken: February 18th, 2013

One accounted for; two to go.

Well, it appears the other two are a wealth of life experience & fiercely independent. I'm sure you'll recognize the equation for their logic and key to future success. You know the one “I know absolutely everything therefore parents are total idiots and know a grand total of nothing”. 

That kind of math wins ya a prize every time. Just so happens to be a ticket to your very own personal accommodation located outside the family home.

Yes-sir-reee school is over. The partying and the trips are over. The bank rolled lifestyle is over. Both need to put their heads the hell down and quit blaming their parents (and others that hold them accountable) for all of their woes in their life.

My best advice would be that they take a long hard look at themselves in the mirror. The only person they can ever blame for not being where they want to be in life is staring right back at 'em... PERIOD.

I know you're probably pretty shocked in reading that right there but what the hell. I have been the bad Cop in this here town for longer than I care to remember...

Why stop now!?!

What’s Behind YOUR Fridge?

A couple of weeks ago we got a very sexy new fridge. Actually, we’ve had it for quite awhile, it's just been holding court in the garage for all to see. It seems Canada’s Worst Handyman has been overbooked with public appearances, so the task of installation never got crossed off my list. After a much heated Saturday morning chat (that ended with me bellowing “I am sick and tired looking at that piece of shit”) we established a plan.

In protest; certain kitchen cabinets were removed, others just moved, and a small counter top adjusted. With the opening prepared, out came ye ole fridge. After Bertha was in the middle of the kitchen floor we both looked down to find one lone soldier. It was a wallet size copy of our engagement photo.

Tony had hair and is totally rocking the 'Porn Stash'.
Me? Holy shoulder pads Batman. Nice mullet BTW!!
Taken: December 1st, 1987 

When I flipped over the grungy old pic, my hand writing identified it as just that. It was dated December 1^st, 1987.

As I dusted it off, we both admitted that we remembered the day it taken. I found it amazing that in the midst of all our frustration, we were brought together by a certain moment in time. 

That specific Saturday was the first time in a very long time our gloves were off.

What's the first thing I thought of when I picked up the only soldier under our old fridge?

Poppa reminding me to play nice.

He always was our best mediator!

He Knows The Key To Success...

Well, it’s official. David is moving home. Since he’s made the decision, a couple of full time/year round employment options (in his field) have presented themselves, which keeps him progressing in the direction he ultimately wants to go. I believe this was meant to be. 

David doing his thing as published in NOW Magazine.
Taken: December 13th, 2012

Hang on a second. Let’s back up. 

When Dave was home at Thanksgiving, I encouraged him to make an employment change. Out of respect for GOOB I won’t discuss the details, except to say, at that time he decided not to. Rather than push my point, I continued to unconditionally support. 

A very rough autumn resulted in lots of telephone support as well as a GTA road trip for some much needed "family time". What was our biggest accomplishment that day? He let me buy him a new winter coat. Seriously, he was being far too proud, and it was really pissing me off!

Our boost that day gave him just enough energy to skate into the Christmas break; which is when he announced (at his own accord) that he was ready to make a change. It was wholeheartedly accepted and expected, that once we were back from our Christmas trip, David would transition home.

Well, turns out a week of fun and frolic in the sun (combined with a couple of weeks of solid Muskoka rest) had him return to his apartment and the very job I had hoped he would leave behind months earlier. Upon his return to hell this time, I asked him to make me a deal; call me no matter what, ask for help if needed, and if things didn’t change by the first of April, sincerely entertain a change! He  promised and said “I love you Mom…” A week or so ago, he ultimately decided he was ready.

I know it has been very hard for him to realize that sometimes you need to take a step back and look at the big picture in order to move forward. You know what I mean. Haven't you ever been so busy going through the motions, that you don't bother to try to process what's happening, so the utter dysfunction just keeps perpetuating itself? For him, something finally clicked, and he took a step back.

Because he has done that, I see this as an excellent opportunity for him. I see it as stepping stone to bigger and better things. He's seen personal success first hand, therefore he knows that he can accomplish anything, if he puts his mind to it.

I can't wait for his smile
to return for good!
Taken: December 29th, 2012

This journey solidifies that he is not afraid of a lot of hard work. It's not that he needed to prove anything to us, my joy comes because he has proven it to himself!

Speaking from experience? THAT is the key, that will open every single door, every single time!

I am so very proud of him. Not just because he understands my philosophy about hard work but because he's lived it.

Sky's the limit GOOB.... Don't look back!

I'll See Your Rake And Raise You A Shovel!

Well hello again and welcome to the official opening to my weekend from hell. I'm here to report that my list of things to do, is as long as the days will be getting everything accomplished. As I dozed off last night I was pretty sure the snow may impede my ability to get the fall leaves cleaned up. When I pulled in the driveway after work today, all I could verbalize aloud was "this is one hot mess!"

I honestly don't mind doing the leaves. I love the exercise as well as the fresh air. It's also the time of the year that you can really observe what going on in the back forty. It's wide open and absolutely beautiful. If it's a nice day, you may see a couple of deer or maybe even the resident fox. It really is great living in the centre of town and feeling like you're actually out in the country.

The fall leaves have been a bit of a bait a switch chore for me this year. For about the last month, I'd land home telling myself that 'I would start' but it seems something to better occupy my time always came along. Standing at the top of the hill tonight, I've some major regret that I have haphazardly postponed the annual task.

2011 Official Leaf Raking Day
WOW! If Mom's using a rake... we're gonna be here for a while!
Taken: November 29, 2011

Why the fret? Well, the yard gets dumped on so bad that every year the fallen foliage always gets shovelled. 

You read that right; I grab the big honkin' snow shovel out of the garage and go to town. Because the yard is quite large I also enlist the help of a 20’ x 20’ tarp (to load them onto and haul them over the hill & into the gully).

You're probably wondering why I don't use a leaf blower. Simple, the shovel is faster and easier on my ear drums. I was hoping we'd have one last sunny spurt to dry them out a little but I am thinking I'll have no such luck. My procrastination has them suckers thicker than a seven layer dinner and wetter than a ....never mind, you get my point.

So here I sit, staring at the screen, carefully weighting my options. Maybe I should call both high schools Monday and offer Community Service hours to students to clear my yard. That way, I can get up bright and early tomorrow, head to the cottage, and warm it up one last time before I shut it down. That leaves me Sunday (no pun intended). One whole day to get the "in town stuff" on my list done. All else fails, I'll can continue working on my list next weekend.

Wait a minute. Next weekend I am getting together with the HENS. I wonder if I can get high school students to clean out my garage and put up my exterior Christmas lights when they're done the yard?

There's no such thing as a bad question right?!