Sunday, June 28, 2015


♫♪♫ Sittin' on the dock on the bay.... ♫♪♫
TAKEN: JUNE 27th, 2015
After finishing my chores yesterday, I hopped in the car, grabbed a bite to eat and headed to one of my favourite places to enjoy my spoils; the wharf downtown.

As I sat in the car and watch a skillful seagull seduce me for my last bite, I couldn’t help but enjoy my front row view to the very significant changes made across the bay.

With my belly full, I started my walkabout. Even though it was unseasonably cold, it didn’t matter because there was a buzz of people everywhere. A quick scan of the busy climate found a cheery disposition accompanying all. Matter a fact, no one I chatted up made mention of a glass half empty, just the upbeat disclosure that they are happy to be out and about without having to wear the earmuffs and mitts they needed last Wednesday morning!

I have to admit that I’m not sure if it’s the presence of my camera or my easy going sense of humour that makes people want to tell me their life stories. Though you all know I am very social (and I do like to generally try to please people) the type of person I never have time for chit chat with is someone that starts every third sentence with “I’m sorry but…”. 

Not because I don’t want to accept their never-ending apology, more that I see them as somewhat of a lost soul. Generally unpleasant and extremely insecure. I find their upfront need to apologize as their way of absolving themselves of any political incorrectness that is most certainly going to instantly follow. You see, I find that behaviour to be nothing but a habit and never genuine.

Not gonna lie. As I snapped my pic yesterday, a certain person (that I just described) immediately came to mind. Though our acquaintance has ended, I’ll always wish I would have asked her one last question. It simply would have been: “What would ultimately make your grass greener?”

My guess is that she's so miserable she wouldn’t know how to respond yet offer a list of people who’s lawn had died, a list twice a long of other peoples lawns she wanted kill off in the next 60 days, and would end her rant by announcing that she'd officially placed a hit on the idiot that had recently stole her lawn mower (which had been safely parked in her garage since last fall). The latter is ultimately why she could never be happy with the grass she currently had. Just sayin'.

Because you know me so well, I have to ask. Do you know what instantly makes my grass greener? A great day like yesterday and never EVER having to hear a certain someone utter the words “I’m sorry but…” again.

See, told ya. It really is the little things in life!

Tuesday, June 16, 2015


I don’t know about you but last night I was up until almost midnight because of the icky sticky humidity. I’m not complaining, probably because I woke up well rested and ready to start my day.

Anyway, after a quick early morning shower, I wandered downstairs and settled at my desk. It's hard to believe that at 6am (probably because my home office is slightly below grade & due to the humidex) my tootsies needed to be bundled up. No if, ands, or buts about it, I immediately knew it was a four alarm ‘fuzzy socks’ kinda morn.

TAKEN: JUNE 16th, 2015
My point?

When decluttering the house last weekend, I came across a gift that was presented to me by a very cherished friend at the cottage last Boxing Day. I had brought his gift home for safe keeping New Years Day but it seems my safe keeping spot was so safe, I didn’t discover them until last Saturday. You can’t imagine my excitement when I announced to my husband "...I found Tim’s fuzzy socks that ROCK!!”

I’m sure most women would have preferred a poinsettia or a nice bottle of wine to celebrate the season but not this cat, and certainly not from the fella that knows first and foremost how I love hand knit fuzzy wool socks. You see, he and I have known each other since I entered high school and all these years later have never really ever lost touch.

Actually, even though we live a couple of miles apart, we've become the very best electronic friends. The only time we chat on the phone is if something gets lost in translation via text and we need to debate the points validity. I find it refreshing and truly appreciate that we can communicate so openly about anything and everything. What can I say, he's definitely a keeper.

As June rolls into July I guess I just wanted to let him know how much I loved my gift: they're perfect. Yup, my fuzzy socks rock. Just like our very long standing friendship.

Thanks again Bud!

Tuesday, June 9, 2015


As a family growing up, we never much bothered with birthdays. Matter a fact, I am embarrassed to admit that I’m not even sure when my mother’s was: whether it was the 23rd or the 24th. Even when she was alive, I always confused her birth date with the day my parents were married. That right there shows how much emphasis was never put on the silly recognition of any of it. Then, everything changed when my Dad celebrated his 60th Birthday.

Happy Birthday Dad...!
TAKEN: JUNE 9th, 1988
Photo (c)
With so much focus being put on my wedding, I decided to throw my Pops a surprise party. You see, his happy day happened to fall two days before I got married. His home was shamefully strewn with everything imaginable for a young bride's big day yet as my day drew near, I wanted him to know that he was as appreciated as he was making me feel I was. Twenty seven years ago today, I can report he was truly surprised. Not only by my gesture but by the love of the people that filled his livingroom.

Just look at that smile!

In hindsight, that night was a catapult for he and I. His 60th Birthday was a new beginning of how he and I looked at celebrating the day of his birth. With me being married the 11th and the twins eventually being born the 5th, no matter what we were up to at the time, everything stopped for that one single week a year.

One of the most memorable parties was when the twins celebrated their first birthday and he celebrated his 65th. Our small little 1,000 square foot home across the street from his was bursting at the seams with family and friends. As time passed, each and every year the celebrations got bigger and understandably more cherished. True to the occasion to the end, we spent the majority of his last B-Day together in the emergency room. Though his spirits were good I would have never imagined a little better than two week later our jokes and paper hats would be replaced with funeral arrangements.

I had an American lawyer friend comment last weekend on the affinity that I have of my Dad. He admitted that he has the same with his but that his father is still alive. As silly as it reads I feel like my Dad is still with me too. I still talk to him and we mention him all the time in our home. Though he may be out of sight, he most definitely will never be out of mind. You see, not only was he my Father, he was my friend.

Happy 87th Birthday Poppa. We all love and miss you very much.

Saturday, June 6, 2015


Have you ever heard the story about the man that was absolutely and unequivocally in love with his favourite shirt? You know the one, where he gets so attached that he actually beams when he wears it? So much so,  that when his buddies ask... “Did you just get laid?” He automatically and very proudly boasts... “Nah, it’s the shirt!”

Now you're up to speed on me and my relationship with my Muskoka Bear Wear hats. Those puppies (no pun intended) have been everywhere with me. The pic I am sharing today is one I tweeted last November. It was my fave and it saved me from a sunstroke while on vacation in the Caribbean.

It's not only protected me from nasty UV rays, it's shot amazing rounds of golf, fashionably saved me from embarrassment when I didn’t have time to colour my roots, not to mention the fit WAS so gosh darn comfy!

The BEFORE & AFTER of my favourite hat.
That’s right, past tense. No point in crying over spilled milk, or in this instance a favourite hat that has been decimated.

When I first found the brim of my beloved chapeau chewed to shit, I was upset. Then, I calmed down and realized the obvious. Though a larger in stature flat coat retriever, Annie is still just a very young pup. A toddler, for lack of a better reference.

As I watched my hat get carried around the yard (seems she’s become as attached to that sucker as I was) I had to laugh. The only difference between how she & a real toddler would play with my hat is that the child would simply gum it to a slow death. I'd have thrown it into the dishwasher and been no worse for the wear.

When it comes to Annie, I'll be picking up pieces of pink until the snow flies!

Serves me right for being the 'Crazy Dog Lady'….!

Tuesday, June 2, 2015


With all the things I have in my life moving at the speed of sound, I decided last week that I finally needed to deal with my hair. As you know, my locks are the complete and total bane of my existence. For what it's worth, my hair brings to mind the 15 year old cat living on the back of Granny's sofa: it simply does what the HELL it wants!

Rant extinguished, I'll continue.

With a change in my look being front of mind, this week was the very first time I'd ever taken before and after pics when it came to getting my hair cut. It wasn’t a ‘selfie’ thing, more so as a market research type of approach to satisfy an inner curiosity. I wanted to ask people that I share all my pics with (the good, the bad, the ugly) their opinion. In essence, was my hair that bad, or should I just leave it be?!

My chosen panel, was of four. All familiar with my personality and all familiar with my Blog, they still gave me their dead nuts honest opinions. The first admitted, without any hesitation, that I looked like a hag & most definitely needed a complete and total makeover. The second questioned my sanity for even wanting to touch my locks with a pair of scissors, which was understandable based on the case they made and the big words they used. The third deemed me lucky for having options: you see, he’s bald and his core goal this time of year is to NOT get a sun burn. The fourth was obviously opinion of my husband.

Hair today... Gone tomorrow.
TAKEN: JUNE 1st & 2nd, 2015

He knew I was heading to see my hair Guru, we'd chatted about it. But, when I carefully reminded him at bedtime that he hadn’t noticed that I’d gotten my hair cut, he didn’t miss a beat. “Never noticed that I trimmed my eyebrows yesterday morning,” he said. “So I guess we’re even!”

The fact that I could immediately reply "so sad that you neglected to trim both your nose and ear hair at the same time..." had us both laughing. 

That scenario is how you truly spend more than half your life with another.

Simply keep the other laughing!