R IS FOR REGGAE

My hubby walking the beach (with me and my Blackberry) taking in this great vibe.
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 2012 

In September 2021, the morning my husband was to be admitted into Toronto General Hospital, he sat on the sofa in our hotel room and sang a loud 'Three Little Birds' with Bob Marley. Needless to say, he was understandably emotional and scared. 

As we walked hand in hand to the hospital at dawn, I promised him that our first adventure once all of this was behind us, would be to get him back to Jamaica; his very favourite travel destination.

I know that yesterday was 4/20 but that has nothing to do with his connection with this beautiful island. He loves the people, their culture, the cuisine, but first and foremost he is truly connected to the music.

The first time we travelled to the island was back in 2012. I was given a $3,000 travel voucher as a bonus at work. We had never been to the Caribbean and decided to spend it toward a destination we had both always dreamed of going.

For the allure of seven mile beach we chose Negril, Jamaica, and the experience didn't disappoint. We returned again in 2014 to Runaway Bay, and he has wanted to return ever since.

But, him dealing with my wanderlust has always been a challenge, as I have always ultimately convinced him to open his mind to new adventures we haven't previously taken. 

Yet, our bond will never forget that life changing morning walk, when a simple promise is made. 

It may be only 5 nights and four days (to celebrate our upcoming milestone wedding anniversary) but guess what?

Weeez a goin' back to Jamaica MON!

And I am pleased to report my hubby is ecstatic to finally to be going back 'yard'... In the non residential sense.

MUSINGS BY THE BONFIRE

My wee Miya Maria and me... Musing beneath the trees.
TAKEN: December 29th, 2022

Well, it appears I have once again survived 'Blue Monday'. 

Though I'm sure some men might consider Blue Monday what follows the weekend if they didn't get laid, but I am referring to the Monday that is identified world wide as 'the most depressing day of the year.' 

The exact day is calculated by assessing weather (W), post-holiday debt (d), time since Christmas (T), failing New Year's resolutions (Q), low motivation (M), and a lack of decisive action (Na). This year, it was Monday January 16th.

For fun, here is my current assessment and reflection of their criteria:

Weather – The weather man is the only dude that can do his job wrong 100% of the time and not get fired.

Post-Holiday Debt – Don’t have any. Hard to go into debt when all you do is put up the same lights, decorate the tree the same every year, and only purchase heart felt gifts for three loves.

Time Since Christmas – This one has a reverse effect for me. I cringe when they start pushing me at Hallowe’en to 'deck the stinkin' halls'.

Failing New Year’s Resolution -  Didn’t make one. I set goals I want to accomplish but never make resolutions

Low Motivation -  This one did tick a box or two this year. Unnecessary and immature drama prior to breaking for the holidays tainted my time off. There were lots of tears. I realize now it was my own fault for allowing it to bother me. It’s over now, and I was feeling great prior to January 16th .

Lack of Decisive Action: Not with this cat. Booked and paid for my birthday trip  to Vegas on Black Friday, paid off the car more than a year early, and continually remove toxic people from my life. If there is one thing I am – it is extremely decisive!

As an aside, for me this milestone day doesn't register in the same way it may with others. I find it important to acknowledge because it signifies the end of my season affective cocoon (aka: time change coma) and is the beacon of light at the end of the tunnel which leads me to spring. Coles notes, it means the shortest day of they year has passed and the longest day with sunlight is on the way.

As I look at the photo I am sharing, I love that I captured such a great moment. Sitting by the fire, Miya waiting for the next snowball to be thrown, with music filling our yard. It was truly a great day.

Sitting there sipping, I remember in the moment turning to my husband and raising my Yeti. "Let’s face it," I said. 

"It is on days like these that I am convinced that wine was invented because God just wanted all of us to be happy!"

As we both chuckled at my spontaneity, I leaned over and clinked his can, then I continued as I always do. "Ya gotta laugh about it," I said. 

Ya just always gotta laugh about it! 

...Take THAT Blue Monday!!

REMEMBERING 2022

I don’t know about you, but I am happy to shut the door on the past year and look to the coming year with a genuine amount of hope and sincere optimism. 

Personally, it has felt like I have been in mourning for the majority of the year. I didn’t write nearly as much as I had hoped because my heart was absolutely aching with both hurt and despair. Trust me, in spite of my mantra, it hasn't been something I would ever be able to laugh about.

Professionally, after taking the last three months of 2022 off to help my husband heal from a life saving surgery, I started the year with a new career challenge that has proven to be an excellent move for me. As I look toward retirement, I love that I am mentoring and team building with an amazing group of young, very upwardly mobile, professionals. 

With the past year in the rearview, I have great hope for 2023. All the best in the coming year everyone. Cheers, and thanks once again for reading. 

~ Rhondi

PS: For the first time, for my annual 'remembering' post, as I reminisce electronically, you can click links to journal offerings that you may have missed.

PSS: Enjoy!

Most significant moment (centre): The sudden passing of my closest friend and confidant, Brian ‘Smartie’ Smart. Who left us Easter weekend 2022. I am truly heartbroken, and the loss of his presence will be missed forever.

January: A snapshot from the desk of my new job. A refreshing challenge I have loved, to which I said to my boss on our last conversation before the holiday break, "look what you and I have accomplished in our first year. I can't wait to see where we land after our second!" 

(Link: Leapin' Life Balance)

February: Knowing my wonderful Puddin' was living on borrowed time, my husband and I spent Family Day (aka: Family Furbaby Day) at the cottage with 'The Oreo Gang' . It was the beginning of the end of an era. 

(Link: The Oreo Gang)

March: As the carpool picked up Goob to head to work in Port Cariling, the glow of the sunrise lit up the car. I got out of the car to capture this moment. We enjoyed a beautiful month of March.

April: For the first time since November 2019 we were able to travel. We flew into Miami then took a roadtrip to Key West. Smartie called me to wish me a Happy Birthday, and made me promise to go to the Hemmingway house, which I did the very next day. We talked for an hour, said our always call ending 'I love you and I love you too'. He was dead a week later. 

(Link: S is for Smartie)

May: The month saw the beginning of house as well as cottage renovations. Both took until the end of November to complete. Much more to do in 2023.

June: My beautiful Puddin' succumbed to her cancer. She was my very best furbaby friend. Our Annie was so affected by the loss that we had to stop saying her name. My life just isn't the same without her.

July: I surprised my husband with a road trip to the town of Bethel (where the Woodstock Festival was held in 1969) and then through the Catskill Mountains to the town of Woodstock New York for his birthday. For music lovers like us, it was both a moving and Bucket List experience.

August: We had a heat wave that was crazy off the charts producing extreme heat warnings. It was so hot, that we were in the water more than out. We felt like kids again! 

(Link: My Happy Hat)

September: They say everything comes in threes, and I had three that were major for me personally. First Smartie, then Puddin', then lastly my beautiful Auntie Cai. I credit a lot of who I am today to her and her life guidance. I miss her very much and always will. 

(Link: In her memory ~ Sweet Dreams of Cairo)

October: Our third roadtrip had us take our pups on a more than two thousand mile round trip to the Outer Banks of North Carolina. We rented a house that slept twelve on the ocean that was perfect. If you've never been.... GO!

(Link: Outer Banks Paw Patrol)

November: Yours truly celebrated a personal milestone with the 11th Anniversary of my wee electronic journal. In hindsight, maybe I should have named it 'Silly Story Central!?!' #yagottalaughaboutit 

(Link: Eleven Years Young)

December: A photo just can't illustrate the amount of snowfall we received in Muskoka that began the evening of December 23rd. So much so, that the massive dumping felt like we should have been placed in a State of Emergency. The photo in my collage was day two of four that were brutal. 

Link: Our Great Neighbourhood)

A SIMPLE HOLIDAY SHIFT

When we took our road trip to the Outer Banks for Canadian Thanksgiving, during those couple of thousand miles in the car, we mutually decided we would not be celebrating the holidays this year. Or, at least not as we had in the past.

Initially, it was because we had planned to take a full two weeks off together and disappear with the dogs for another beach house experience farther down the coast.

Then, when my company decided to close the last week of this year and the first week of the new, our idea of hitting the open road went out the window; with me being off the second week alone.

The good news?

We discovered we would only have one week together early enough, that we could ensure the cottage be stocked and ready to head in and stay during what time we did have off together. A ritual we haven’t been able to enjoy together since late December 2014.

Heading down the hill (Pre-4wheeler) with provisions to ring in the New Year.
TAKEN: DECEMBER 27th, 2014

The biggest inconvenience associated with enjoying our cottage space when it has been closed down is drawing, hauling, and boiling water out of the lake. That said, with enough split wood, the wood stove does all the work heating the water for the dishes as well as keeping us very toasty and cozy. 

I have to admit, there is something to be said for the place smelling of great food that isn't grilled outside, not to mention the serenity of no one else around as we sit around the glow of an outdoor bonfire with the music cranked on a cold night. Which is probably why we've never listed it for sale. It brings out the best in both of us. 

Anyway, for the very first time since becoming parents, we are establishing a 'zero gift giving zone'. I have put up a beautiful natural tree as well as my exterior lights but that is it. I guess you can say there has been a seasonal shift.

A shift because, after the last couple of years we have had, and the deep losses we have felt this year alone, we believe the true gifts are of time and love - and they will always be the two most important things we could ever hope for.

Time and unconditional love....  

The perfect gifts which will NEVER appear on your credit card statement, nor have any type of buyer’s remorse attached!

SWEET DREAMS OF CAIRO

This photo is worth more than a hundred thousand words.
It genuinely exudes my love for her.
Caroline (Caï) Perrault (née Marceau)
TAKEN in: MATTAWA ONTARIO 1983

There is no other way to share this, other than to say that my Auntie Cai was unequivocally one of the most amazing people I have ever met in my entire life, and today I had to say goodbye. She was 89.

Growing up, my aunt was a beloved mother of her four children whom she cherished. 

And, as silly as this may be read, I have always thought of myself as her fifth. Then, this afternoon, I realized that those of us that thought our ourselves as her special extra 'plus one' were in the hundreds. 

A well respected teacher for more than four decades, she guided yours truly, as well as all of her students like the great beacon she was.  

Growing up, no matter what I had happening in my life, my aunt was always an anchor for me. Providing unconditional inspiration and endless encouragement, not to mention a calm wisdom to the somewhat harsh realities that surrounded me.

In my formative years, my summers on Lake Temiscaming were most memorable when my cousins (whom I truly deem siblings) were at the camp next door. 

I remember the first grand-baby shower, I remember the first big job offer, and most importantly their guys embracing my now husband as one of their own from the time I brought him around. Most of all, I remember how being in their company, felt like I was home.

That said, just like many, we see most family members at weddings and funerals. 

As we gathered after mass today to celebrate her life, I asked the quorum around me how she ended up being called Cai, where her first name was Caroline?

My cousin Tootsie answered immediately. "When she was my teacher, she told us that she always talked constantly about how she wanted to visit Cairo, the largest city in Egypt.” The nickname stuck.

As I share a picture of she and I, my eyes fill with tears. Damn, this pretty lady literally made a difference in my life!

Rest easy and sweet dreams my love. You definitely helped mould me into the person I am today. You will be loved and missed forever by all who had the pleasure to meet and know you.

Don’t forget to say hi to mom, dad, uncle Vic, and all the others in your company. Bring them up to speed about what we've been up to. 

Please let them all know... We will always miss them too. xoxo 

D IS FOR DOGHOUSE

To think I only went into the grocery store for a loaf of bread!
TAKEN: JULY 2021

I read somewhere that a dog truly only has one fault, which is that their life is too short. A simple yet powerful statement that I happen to agree with 1000%.

Don’t get me wrong, in all of our years owning pups, several shoes, random clothing, expensive furniture, as well as dinner thawing on the kitchen counter have all fallen prey. All chewed and ultimately enjoyed the good old fashion canine way.

One might think that the above list would be enough fuel to encourage yours truly to get a bird; but not this cat (no pun intended).

This is the second time we've transitioned a new pup into our pack as we prepare for her beautiful senior leader to wind down. Though it's a lot of personal investment that first year, it is truly worth it. 

In our situation today, our newest pup has had the benefit of some great training her matriarch never absorbed no matter how hard we tried. From the day my beloved Puddin' arrived home more than a decade ago, she has always marched to the tune of a different drummer.

Truth is we had to build her a run to keep her in check. We use to have to tie her as she simply would not listen. We have our theories as to why, and we are the first to acknowledge that we are in no way dog whispers. Again, we highlight we are just struggling parents with an audience that now have four legs rather than two.

That said, as we age and so does our pack. We hear others say "We do not want, nor will have another dog in retirement. We want to travel."

Knowing we have no desire to spend capital outside of Canada, we too want to go south in the depths of the Canadian winter months. Should all things align, we will head south, and our pups will come with. I think the key is something called 'square footage'. 

Meaning our mobile DOGHOUSE will need to be much bigger than the back of our Mazda CX5 as shown in my photo!

THE OREO GANG

(l-r: Annie, Puddin' & wee Miya Maria)
AKA: THE OREO GANG
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 21, 2022

When my husband was hospitalized in late September last year it was my eldest son, Jukebox, that moved into the house while I stayed in Downtown Toronto. 

As you can imagine, we checked in with each other several times a day and through that first week, he would report each morning that ‘all was A-OK with the Oreo Gang.' A witty and totally relevant nickname that has stayed with my trio ever since.

Let me backup....

When we came to the realization that our beloved Puddin’ was aging, we began communicating with a breeder because we worried if something happened to her, our Annie wouldn’t be able to soldier on alone. She was over six and had never been a lone pup. She had come to us at five weeks to join Dottie and Puddin’ as a third. 

Never considered a third wheel in the pack, infact, she turned into an excellent facilitator between the other two very early on. After Dot passed in July of 2019, Annie and Pud hit their stride – and I knew I never wanted to leave her on her own.

Enter wee Miya Maria. Born in April of 2021 and arriving home in June. Just look at the picture, the three of them are thick as thieves. Though full disclosure has me admit that I may have had a cookie in the air to get them to pose.

Short story long, I love my pups. So much so, that every year since our children left the nest, I have turned the Family Day holiday into Family Furbaby Day. From the time they get up in the morning until they fall asleep at night, everything revolves around them.

As you know, I have aptly labelled myself the ‘Crazy Dog Lady' but what you don’t know, is that my very favourite coffee mug reads: “MY GOAL IN LIFE IS TO BE THE PERSON MY DOGS ALREADY THINK I AM!”

How that for setting the bar high?!

She's right up there with me always keeping my glass AS WELL AS the treat jar half full instead of half empty.

THE HEARTBEAT AT MY FEET

This girl has never been anything but a pure joy to raise!
TAKEN: 2015 & 2019

 Our wee Annie was five weeks old when we brought her home. I believe she was the runt because she could pretty much fit in my hands and no ability to eat or lap water. We tended to her round the clock those first three days, which I believe saved her life.

I am a firm believer that no matter what their age, a dog knows when you save them. Instinctually, I am sure they understand you’re getting them though that darkness, which in turn blesses you with unconditional loyalty for as long as they live.

Annie isn't the first dog we rescued, she was just the youngest. One was five months old, one about a year and the third a year and a half. In all instances all were eternally grateful except one. We had to put Sally down for aggression and biting. 

We have always raised and rescued females and all were spayed to prevent any unexpected visits from the stork; actually, all but my Annie.

You see, I usually wait until after their first heat and she never had her first until she was three. Her second followed 24 months later. There was never an intention to breed her, and because she was so well behaved - after six years just never bothered as she's never left my side.

Well, when my husband and I were in the city this past December, our dog sitter had friend over with his male dog. I hadn't been concerned at the time because Annie hadn't been in heat - or so I thought.

This past week, we noticed a major change in her disposition. She was moody with the rest of her pack and very clingy to me. Clingy never surprises me, because she has never more than a couple of feet away from me at all times. This was almost obsessive neediness.

Well, after a bit of research we have discovered that Annie in going to be a momma in a couple of weeks.

We've never wanted to breed any dog and this doesn't change out opinion in this situation. That said, I am taking on this situation like I do most thing. 

With my glass half full, I will be simply treating it as another new adventure and promise to keep everyone posted!

#yagottalaughaboutit

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!

J IS FOR JUKEBOX

My son Jukebox, singing in the finals of Muskoka Voice!
TAKEN: AUGUST 2018

From the April A-Z Blogging archives.

Originally posted April 11th, 2020.

My oldest son was born in the dead of winter in Muskoka.

He slept in a bassinet beside my bed for the first month or so, then graduated into his very own crib. 

Once he moved into his nursery, I made a personal choice that there would always be a radio playing. Why? Because we didn’t want him to be one of those babies conditioned to total silence.

Always set to the local radio station, it was rarely turned off. He dozed off to the tunes, and woke up the same way. I truly feel that early choice we made for him, has embedded the musical passion he has today.

Genetically, Jukebox has always been completely surrounded by musicality. It’s a very common thread that is everywhere (on all sides of our family).

He is completely self-taught, extremely disciplined, and he has fully embraced music as a craft. 

He is talented. He is extremely talented. Name an instrument, he can play it. 

Keep going Jukebox. 

We know you can accomplish whatever you put your voice and self driven talent behind!

B IS FOR BRAT

From the April A-Z Blogging archives. 

This was originally posted April 2nd, 2015

When on holiday in the Dominican Republic last November, a friend posted the cutest picture on her Facebook of a litter of puppies she was giving away. I sent her a personal message asking for details and less than a week after landing back in Canada, the stork delivered Annie.

Six month since that fateful delivery date, there are times I consider the entire adventure as a total lapse in judgement that regularly borders on 'what the hell!'

Annie watching Puddie & Dot run the golf course.
TAKEN: MARCH 15th, 2014

I'm not kidding, since I started writing this post, I've had to stop and tell her to get the hell out of mischief at least three times. Each time, I've mumbled to word BRAT; both under my breath and aloud.

Having said that, I'm not sure if it's because she's had the other pups to mentor her but she has been the least destructive puppy we've ever raised. 

No shoes have seen their death, and our furniture has remained completely in tact this time around. The added bonus is that for being a bitch, she knows to play nicely with other dogs. 

Other than her intense curiosity for mischief, she really is a very good girl. 

Hey... Who the heck else does that remind you of?!  

Maybe my letter B should have simply been for BUSTED!!

LIFE LESSON #883

When riding through town tonight, I spied a familiar face manning the crosswalk at our busiest intersection in town. Though there is a traffic light there, the walk is exceptionally long and the flashing stop sign she holds high most certainly keeps the little ones venturing home from the local school out of harms way. I immediately noticed she was limping.

As we drove through, I physically turned my head to watch her.  Out of the blue, I felt the need to disclose her name and mention the type of wrath she was subjected to when we were in high school. The truth of the matter is that after sharing about her journey, I was embarrassed that I remembered such finite details of how she was bullied.

Though I wasn't the bully, the hard fact is the ones making fun of her were also the ones continually making fun of me. The single difference between she and I was that I got to walk around in their presence. To this day, those that treated the two us that way, are generally still the same;  ill informed, overbearing and insecure.

One of my teen year bullies snapped this pic!
(Introducing my one time blog costar: Dusty)
TAKEN: WINTER 1983

To let you know where I'm headed with this, I saw a meme on Facebook this afternoon that said “I’d rather have an enemy that admits they hate me, instead of a friend that secretly puts me down.” I see some serious merit in that.

I am embarrassed to admit that in one very singular instance (in fact, with the person that took the picture I am sharing) I occupied that latter lane I am referencing and she willingly did the same.

I use to be remorseful at how I forced our friendship to end, yet everyday I am grateful I finally did. 

I was drowning in her consumption of my good nature, which served as premium fuel for her narcissistic agenda. That was about 20 years ago, and if there is one single thing we now agree upon; which is neither have a single use for the other.

I'm no shrink but I believe because I was bullied in the past, I use to let certain toxic friendships consume me to simply prove that I was worthy. 

All these years later, there's absolutely no comparison to where I am in my life and where they are in theirs. The only way I can rationalize the difference, is that I've never stopped learning and they've always believed they know everything. 

My point tonight is that in watching the local crossing guard limp way, I was offered an instant 30+ year flashback. I instantly envisioned all of us standing in that high school atrium on that very day. 

Reflecting, I immediately had an profound sadness come over me. I suppose it is because I still only keep in touch with only one gal that witnessed what I did on the day I am writing about.

The saddest part to my story?

In mid-life, that gal is still a part of that specific crew. All these years later, she has become the one they STILL secretly put down behind her back.  

They always have and with her BFF's behaviour being deemed acceptable since public school, I suspect they always will.

For the umpteen time I reaffirm this simple life lesson.... Mean people suck!!

JANUARY JUGGERNAUT

For the last decade, Friday mornings in January had me check the weather to see how low the temperature was expected to dip within the coming 48 hours.  This weekly tradition helped me understand how my weekend was going to be spent (-10C registered as balmy and -25C as housebound).

If I was lucky enough to be blessed with a mild winter, one of the two days had me strap on my snowshoes and head out with the pups. Nine times out of ten I would land at the cottage but if I did not have the luxury of half the day to myself, the golf course across the street was an excellent option for my weekly ritual. 

A few years ago, when our beloved Dotti's hips began to be an issue, my biggest winter priority was ensuring she had a series of snowshoed paths for easy access around the lower level of our yard, so she would never struggle when out to do her stinky winter thing with nature. 

With our Puddin’ entering her twilight years, it seemed my winter weekends were once again destine to be spent blazing trails with my showshoes. With her general lack of speed and muscle mass, I knew she would be appreciative to be able to navigate her turf with general freedom; and yours truly, grateful for the outdoor exercise. 

That said, with my husband having his own personal health setback at Thanksgiving, he too is in search of whatever exercise he can easily accomplish. 

You can tell by the picture I am sharing (which I snapped standing in my showshoes) that my trails are getting an updated facelift, and my longstanding pup efforts are being replaced.

Can't stop change, only manage it!
#yagottalaughaboutit
TAKEN: JANUARY 31st, 2021

I don't mind his initiative, I honestly don't. My girls will love their new trails that are wider and much easier for them to navigate. 

I guess my wee issue is that this whole lockdown situation has NOT been my friend. 

I may do my best to do my due diligence in the exercise department - only to come back into the house and enjoy a plethora of warm milk and cookies.

I know I have no one to blame but myself. But I will say, that not spending an hour every morning on my appearance to head into an office job, has enabled my keen ability to shroud myself in clothing that masks the number of calories being enjoyed at any given yummy juncture. 

Wanting to embrace my glass half full, I have decided to shift my mindset to an uber positive outlook as my appearance changes.

My new mantra? I prefer not to think of myself as overweight... 

Just substantially easier to see!!

#missionaccomplished

REMEMBERING 2020

 Most Significant Moment: The arrival and living with COVID-19. 

Everything from the toilet paper crisis (the centre pic was my rare cottage find when there was none left within the Province of Ontario), to the end of Donald Trump as the President of the United States. 

I feel 2020 was the year of solitude; served with a side dish of hatred and divide!

TAKEN: Throughout 2020

January: I participated in a five weekend advanced digital marketing (in-class course) in downtown Toronto. An amazing and eye opening experience!

February: Jukebox and his band headlined a local event that was sold-out and attended by all, including my bestie @veronekak.

March: Our entire community rallied around our childhood friend as he battled a very debilitating illness. This event, held Saturday March 7th, 2020, was the last time I was out socially before the initial pandemic lockdown took effect.

April: The unexpected and very premature passing of my husbands step father from ALS. Rest in peace Ivy!

May: No longer able to live normally because of Covid-19, we moved full time to the cottage.

June: We planted and enjoyed tending to our very first cottage vegetable garden. (We have serious plans for expansion in 2021.)

July: We gave Stella, our floating picnic table, a serious facelift and added a trolling motor for speed. She became the talk of the lake.

August: My Sweetie and her sweetie. I captured this Kodak moment the first time JMrex visited the cottage to meet us.

September: I took a step back and made a plan to move forward!!

October: Our tiny bubble enjoyed a Thanksgiving pumpkin carving event. This was also the evening my husband suffered his life altering health issues.

November: The look of the last eight months as we prepare to hunker back in to yet another lockdown.

December: Totally locked back down and hoping this one word is what we all get to experience in 2021.

MY CHUCK B. TREE

Miss Annie alongside my wee Chuck B. tree.
TAKEN: DECEMBER 11th, 2020

The good news is the holiday countdown is officially on.  The bad news is, I managed to accidentally kill our very festive holiday tree. 

This year, after discovering there was a tree shortage, we picked the best of the height challenged from our local spot the end of November; then proceeded to load up a six-foot tree with the hundreds of lights that usually illuminated our regular nine-footer. 

In hindsight, I fear this was one of many deadly mistakes made.

A week or so in I noticed my wee Chuck B was not taking on water. The second week I noticed my holiday ribbon beginning to sag. Figuring he was sent to market a month before he became mine, then proudly jimmy rigged him on a glass table so his star could reach the ceiling (next to a large picture window), week three had the inevitable happened. Suffice it to say, I had to officially call his very brittle time of death. 

Not one to throw dead needles out before a celebration supper, I decided to refrain from plugging in my beloved 700+ lights until our upcoming Christmas morn. 

Meaning, the neatly wrapped gifts will be lit by a lighter shade of green on Chuck's last day, then I will have him serve as my annual Boxing Day quick burn bonfire sacrifice. In a non-religious or Game of Thrones kinda way!

Jokes aside, I’m not even remotely surprised about the general fate of my tree. As a matter a fact, as we head back toward grey-lockdown here in Ontario, I will just add it to my long list of... “I didn’t see that coming at me in 2020." Which also reinforces the important message my buddy Charlie Brown (aka - Chuck B) has been reminding me for decades: “It’s not what’s under the Christmas tree that matters. It’s who’s around it.” 

I guess the difference between this year and all others previous, is if you happen to be one of the five in my bubble on Christmas Day, I must ask that you please refrain from standing around the tree with any type of heat bearing or igniting thingamajigs.

Better yet, best ensure ugly holiday sweaters are both flame retardant and cover off at least two of the four hazard categories for arc protection and flame resistance: being the tree itself and a turkey that may burst into flames in the oven. 

Guess as a proactive measure, I should promise to have both fire extinguishers and garden hose on standby to keep our wee bubble of visitors safe from any potential and unexpected harm. Which is soothing in itself. 

But let's face it.... 

Who the hell worries about an ongoing lockdown and world pandemic risk when I'm the one cooking a butter-basted bird?!

#yagottalaughaboutit

GOURD-GEOUS & GRATEFUL

2020 Great Pumpkin Carving Event
(l-r) Goob, JMRex, Sweetie, Jukebox, Tam_lya
TAKEN: OCTOBER 12, 2020

For well over a decade, the weekend before Hallowe’en I have lugged a pumpkin into the cottage and carved it the night before it was closed for the winter. For whatever reason, watching my last seasonal effort of the season flickering by the fall moon light was tradition I always looked forward to. 

That said, have you ever had a nagging feeling that something bad was lurking around the corner, and no matter what you did, you couldn’t seem to shake it? This year, I had an eerie feeling my annual pumpkin carve wasn’t going to happen; hindsight has confirmed my ‘spidey senses’ were correct.

In Canada, we traditionally celebrate Thanksgiving the second Monday of October. Feeling unsettled through the month of September, I decided to buy pumpkins for the kids to carve before we ate our family feast.

That evening at dusk, I lit them all and snapped the photo that I am sharing. The next morning, I was headed to the hospital at 3am and today the cottage was closed for the remainder of 2020. I am still dealing with the fact that my life has changed forever.

I don’t want to get into the if and or buts here, I just want to reaffirm that when a loved one doesn’t want to seek medical help you can’t force them and it isn’t your fault. In the end, all you can do is love them and hope they understand how their decisions have effected every single person in their lives.

I am one that has been, and always will be, grateful for the little things in life. Like grown children that willingly participate in a pumpkin carving contest because their mother loves how their simple glow at dusk makes her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Peeps... Hug the ones you love. Really tight. Because everything can change in the blink of an eye!

MY STEADY SEPTEMBER

My Annie on the left and my Puddin' going full tilt on the right!
TAKEN: September 20th, 2020

Vacation the first week of August may have been a total bust but the weather the last week of summer more than made up for it. I don’t know about you - but there has always been something with the end of September atmosphere that genuinely put an extra skip in my step. 

For obvious reasons, as fall approaches each year I always make the effort to give my pups as many unique experiences as possible. I suppose it’s because I know, for the most part, nature is preparing us to hunker down in darkness as we wait for the pre-winter snow to arrive.

As you can see from our last adventure photos, Annie is as active as toddler on steroids but the signs of Puddin’ officially becoming a senior are starting to visibly show. Therefore, I have decided that this fall has to be about a balance. Not just energy level balance. Overall life balance; not only for the pups but for me as well.

Such a big and important thought process (and learning curve) for me right now. 

In my effort to strive and achieve it, I will no longer be working 50 hours a week and on call from sun up until sun down. I have disabled all alerts on my phone and I honestly try my best to power that sucker down before I serve dinner and leave it off until I wake the following morn.

That change combined with an inner twang for more personal balance, resulted in me reconnecting with my very best gal pal. It’s not like she and I were estranged per se, just both got busy with life in general and became accustom to the Bluetooth on the road home doing all the legwork for us. 

I am pleased to report that this very steady September has us getting back to basics where the first question we ask the other is “...How are you doing?” I had truly missed that. 

You see, for the last several years I had been so focused on others and their demands, that the little things that mattered somehow got lost in the shuffle. I guess you could say that prior to making this small, almost minor change in behaviour, I was always in search of the answer as to how to create change.

Then, on the evening of September 10th, I realized that I no longer wanted to wait for the opportunity of change. I understood whole heartedly I had to pull up my big girl panties and encompass and embrace the change I was searching for.…So I did. 

The rest is up to me.

MY MARRIAGE COIN

 I read somewhere that marriage is an institution designed to let you annoy one special person for the rest of your life. Yet, I’m sure when you flip my blog and bitch about marriage coin really high into the air it would read: The perfect marriage is between a blind wife and a deaf husband.

I know you’ll probably find this hard to believe, but since opening my own business in 2004, as an entrepreneur I quickly learned to hone two very specific social skills. 

1. ALWAYS take a 24-48 hour cooling down period before speaking to whom you’re truly aggravated with, because words can never be taken back.

2. AND...Smile and be thankful for every piece of shit pie eaten that generated revenue. 

As you can see from my last couple of electronic offerings, this Covid crap has me crazy cranky.

The cherry on top of that statement is our first official summer vacation together since 2012 was received worse than Bob Dylan going electric and sadder than Levon Helm leaving The Band because of it.

We may have only been at our cottage, but it rained six out of ten days and by this past Saturday morning (when our water pump failed yet again) we both hit the ‘this fecking sucks’ wall. It was clear in our Sunday morning volume alone, we both really needed to take a break. 

I moved home with the dogs. He did not.

Now, I should share, we rarely fight nor even disagree.

The two of us at my company Christmas Party
TAKEN: DECEMBER 2000

In our many decades together we have learned to skillfully navigate each other for continued success. In this instance, our small cottage space, two wet dogs, and a thrice mis-installed water pump got the best of us.

How bad was it? If a successful marriage requires you to fall in love many times with the same person… I’m thinking by Labour Day weekend we might be ready for a lunch date.

That said, I can assure you that it was so bad, my best girlfriend will be making one of those famous ‘escape a really bad date’ phone calls; fifteen minutes in.

#yagottalaughaboutit

N IS FOR NEVER

Today's post is for someone very special in my life.

She knows who she is.

Hang in there beautiful. I am here for you no matter what!

K IS FOR KNOWING

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!