DEALING WITH FLUFF AND STUFF
My gardens are both a blessing and a curse, I love to spend time in them but there are I believe 13 of them. They are often where I head out to for a little me time, I can work through a problem while weeding; or loose myself to the warmth of the sun on my back the feel of the dirt in my hands. Every now and then lifting my head to check to make sure that Oli is close and not off on his own personal adventure. Many times, I will take a moment and just sit there - a slight breeze on my face listening to the sounds of bird song. Then there are the times when I head out with a determined look on my face and a mission to accomplish. While I still enjoy my time playing in the dirt, these are the days that no matter what I will accomplish my goal. I believe I mentioned this before dear imaginary reader.
I took on a task last September, to tame the hydrangeas along the side garden of our pool and a few in the two front gardens. It took me two days, got completed my goal; and fubarred my low back. It wasn’t until after Thanksgiving that DC finally convinced me to get some professional attention. Seemed like no time flat and I was feeling better. Once summer is over, the pool closed and rainy days prevail I generally look for a different way to excercise. This past fall LLB introduced me to the on line lady that I mentioned in a past post. She and her group are amazing! A reasonable monthly fee, accountability, great workouts. Did I mention before that the median age of that group is probably 40? And mostly fit? The workouts do have modifications, but most workouts are HIITS. The most reps you can do in a certain time span. The trainer as great as she is cannot modify the mind set of someone far away who refuses to think that she can’t do something. See where I am going here? First came the cool HIITS, with cool excercise; then came me not listening to my body. Enter hip bursitis.
While having to take things easy due to injury I decided to once again work on my lack of style. I joined a couple of Facebook groups geared toward women of a certain age. The first group I joined are great believers in posting pictures of their outfits daily, many, many pictures. The all looked great, like they were headed to Efforttown and had taken the looking good to head to town in a serious way. Average age - probs 65. Great group, probs not going to be my style. The next group I joined has a blog with a petite lady that shows you how she put her outfit together. The stores (mostly American and not available here), sales, clothing and accessories. Its great to have an image on clothing that probably could work for me.
My gardens are at the point that other than a few annuals, they don’t require much financial expenditure anymore. My wardrobe is another matter. I have learned that many women in my position have trouble spending money on ourselves. I am not sure where this particular mind set comes from, I have no problem spending money on others. Just ask the love of my immediate life, he will be happy (or perhaps not so happy) to validate that statement! I worked outside the home and certainly contributed to the family “pot” so to speak but for me - I can talk myself out of a purchase in a heartbeat. Ok, maybe it takes me 20 but it happens.
IT’S THE SMALL THINGS
What crazy times we are living in. I will admit that recently traveling in France and England I was nervous. My children thought I would be a bit of a basket case as my husband and I arrived in Paris two days after the terror death of a police officer on the Champs Elysees, I was not. Sad yes, insanely nervous no.
It was oddly reassuring to see the armed military in police patrolling the city. Our daughter just this week travelled from the south of France back to Scotland where armed military were apparent at the airport. Something she had never seen in Scotland before. I feel horrible for the families of those affected by the horror of the attack in Manchester.
I so admire the people of Manchester who are strong and have shown the world that they will not let terror win. These wonderful people who go about life, doing the small things and enjoying life, being examples for the world.
Don’t know if I would ever have their strength and determination to live a “normal” life, all things big and small. Thank you Manchester for showing me the way.
A LOVELY LITTLE INTERLUDE……
A few weeks ago, after returning from our trip to Elbow Cay, I got a call from our baby girl. As she is in the Education Program her break would be March Break instead of a reading week in February. “Mom, I really need to come home. I just need too”. How do you say no to that one, though I did turn it into a bit of reality check and made her pay her own airline ticket. Oh evil woman that I am lol!
With a quick phone call to her brother and his girlfriend DC, a quite week at home began with a bang! I absolutely love having a house full of people, teasing, laughter and stories that are probs best not told…. I cant wipe the smile off my face right now as I type this. Three extra the first night, 7 extra the next with the icing on the cake being a visit from a married friend of the kids and her children the next morning. During the visit were were able to FaceTime in the Scottish group making the family visit complete! Bring’em on! It was wonderful. Sunday evening came, the extras headed back to their reality and quiet time began here in the middle of no where.
The next four days were bliss. Baby girl and my husband began a binge watch of Shamless. I must admit, there is no way I could watch it, I tried. Honest. I just couldn’t get past the language and lifestyle. I am a bit of a baby. Though the up side was that my bailing allowed father and daughter to have some time to catch up. Chatting about everything under the sun when our good ole country internet would crap out. Or while coming into the kitchen to scrounge for what ever food they could from me.
I set myself up everyday at the island in our kitchen. The walls in front and behind me are mostly made up of windows and glass doors. On days such as today, the sunlight beams in and can cause a blinding reflection on our black and gold veined flooring. My “perch” allows me to keep an eye (and perhaps an ear) on what ever is happening in the house. Last week it was awful to almost hear the sighs of contentment and the smiles from my two couch potatoes.
Midweek, our son came for an overnight (thank you Mother Nature you crazy mixed up wench, this year anyway) for the snowstorm. Zeeman is currently working in Effort Town, so it was safer to stay the night here in the middle of nowhere. A few headlocks, whining from his sister and perhaps an argument later he was off to work in the morning; leaving behind a sad baby sister.
Getting up way to early on Friday morning, grabbing the little dog and hopping into the truck to take her down the escarpment to the train, baby girl told me that she wasn’t ready to leave. It had been a great week, doing nothing, hanging with Dad and Zeeman she said. Getting a touch, kiss or hug when ever she felt like it from Mom. With a quick “love you Mom , love you Oli”, she turned from the truck and quickly moved into the station.
I pulled away with Oli crying and barking for his girl as we left the station, my crying adding to the sad sounds of good bye.
Be safe baby girl – to the moon and back
Almost eleven years ago our family was looking to add a “big dog” to our family pack. There was the five of us and one scrappy little general, our schnauzer Tucker. Tuck needed a buddy, some one to play with doggy style, not just with our kids. The search began with my husband giving me a limit I could spend while all the while he was thinking, “ha ha..she’ll never be able to get what they want for that amount!” Away he went to the east coast on a business trip and we began a full frontal assault of the “for sale” pages in papers and on the internet.
Low and behold..a day or so later we found an ad for “Labradoodle Puppy for sale”, the kids and I arranged to head out into the bright blue beyond to find a friend for Tuck. We drove for about an hour and came to a lovely country home where the “mom” dog had be bred to have puppies to make a little extra cash and she could have a friend. There were two pups left, cleverly named “colllar” and “no collar” catchy but we knew who was who! We had brought Tuck along as we wanted to see if there was any chemistry with either of the pups. We introduced the dogs while having a glass of lemonade in the breeders back yard. Low and behold, “collar” took to Tuck right away – hide and seek and war games were happening! After about 20 minutes I asked the kids what they thought, all were in agreement that we should take “collar” home with us.
I took a minute and asked them if they had played with “no collar”, a big resounding “no” was heard. I asked them why not? The answer “well Mom, he is hiding under the bench, he is afraid of Tucker”. I asked who they thought was incharge of the games that “collar “and Tuck were playing, and the answer was “collar”. I explained that I thought no collar was the better choice as we wanted Tuck to stay as top dog. Several phone calls later with no response from Dad we took no collar home.
We named him Marley, after Bob Marley as he was the proud owner of black and silver kinky hair. For the next almost eleven years he helped us laugh, cry over the premature death of Tucker and to grow as individuals. Three years ago, Marley got his own buddy in the form of a dog we thought was a three year old Tibetian Terrier cross that was rescued from a kill shelter in Texas. Turns out the rescue, Oliver was 10 – the same age as Mar.
With Olli came the routine of opening the blinds in the office every morning for “squirrel theatre” – so they could watch and be tormented by the squirrels out front. We all waited for and watched each days installment of “fight club – Mar and Ollie style”. And then, last week Mar got sick. And yesterday all of our hearts were shattered when we had to put him down – oh how I hate cancer. It was a quick attack – on the table as my husband and I were telling him how much we loved him and what a great dog he was he was still wagging his tail.
We had no choice, it was the right thing to do. Today, from the east coast of Canada to Scotland and several points in Ontario we are all crushed. The pressure in our chests , directly over our broken hearts is incredible. Olli isn’t eating and is either sleeping on Mars favorite pillow or is searching the house for him.
I finish writing this dear imaginary readers through tears that are streaming down my face. Dear, dear Mar…you were our big dog, our friend, Rest In Peace . Find Tuck , he’ll show you the ropes.
LOVE YOU MAR
CHANGE IS DIFFICULT
Oh man! Like many women my age I need to loose some inches of “softness” and then remeasure in muscle. Getting there is truly a pain in my ass lol! I am working with an on line trainer who has connected we with the Precision Nutrition program and I am working out at home on my own. So far so good, but…ya but….this is the first time that getting fit has turned into a mental excersise as well.
If I thought that cheating on my hair stylist was difficult, boy oh boy! This one is wwaaayyyy more work and stress. I guess I really can’t say cheat any more cause the hair is still looking pretty good. As a result, I am making it official and saying it in black and white. I officially have left the old and have moved on to the new hair artist! Wooh hoooo! Now that didnt hurt a bit.
I suppose that 2017 is going to be a big year of change for my family and I. My husband and I have been traveling quite a bit and will continue to do so until mid summer. Son graduated and living with his girlfriend in a city close but not too close if ya know what I mean (think positively here folks). Eldest daughter will graduate in June and has no idea where in the world she and her live in will be. And I do mean world – yikes! That causes me serious stress. Finally the baby girl is rocking it in her Education program out east and has made it clear that while she may return to the mother land she will not be living here in the boonies. Guess she has another year or so to figure that one out. This is the year that dear husband and I have to figure out what we are going to do other than travel.
And then there is the weight loss. If I am going to be honest with you dear imaginary readers I must confess that it is far more than just weight loss. I have to learn and therefore carry out putting myself first and sticking with it. Been so busy raising children, working, caring for dogs that my marriage and myself have taken a back seat. Time to rearrange the train so to speak…..first steps are baby steps. Work out a bit each day and think what and why before I out something in my mouth. My goal is to be a bit stronger and steadier in a couple of months when my husband and I go hiking with eldest daughter and her boy in the Highlands of Scotland.
Please send positive vibes my way XO!
LIFE IN THE SLOW LANE
I was remiss while away and did not get in a single post or flow. Our group spent a lot of time by the pool eating, laughing, drinking and counting our lucky stars.
Thanks to one of the group, we were lucky to be staying at the Fairmont Heritage Place in Acapulco. We stayed in an amazing 3500 square foot outstanding villa with our own plunge pool and resident Crabby McCrab in the outdoor shower. The property was spectacular. If I could pick it up and move it home, I would. More importantly the property was safe.
That said, safety is a concern in Acapulco. We were warned about and learned quickly about using only “safe taxis”, checking in with the armed guards before walking on the beach. Got used to armed security protecting us on the “other side of the gate” of our resort while we waited for the hotel shuttle. We sure weren’t in Kansas any more Toto.
We are so very very blessed to live in Canada. For sure, we are not perfect and have poverty, and exploitation that occurs here. But nothing like the acts of violence that happen in Mexico. So happy to be home safe and sound
ONE STEP CLOSER
Just a quick post today as I run around like a chicken with its head cut off running last minute errands and cleaning our house before we head to the sunny south in the ungodly hours of tomorrow morning.
Yesterday I got my self cleaned up and headed into Effortown for a consultation with the new hair artist. Yip…December 12 will be my official day to become a cheater. If all works well, I won’t have this wonderful stripe of blonde then a mix of brown and grey hair lol! Fingers crossed on that one, growing out will now supposedly not result in la stripe.
The “artist” I will be cheating with come with a lower price point that my old stylist, not much but some. Why is it that women have to pay through the nose for hair care and guys don’t Thoughts?
I’M THINKING ABOUT CHEATING….
I’m thinking about cheating….on my hairstylist. I have been a faithful client for about 8 years now. His salon is located in Effortown, the type of salon that you worry about whether or not you are dressed appropriately and have make up on ya know? The kind of place where if you don’t dress “up”, the staff is better dressed than you.
Now that said, when you walk in it has a lovely calm atmosphere, you are offered tea or coffee, water. On occasion, you are offered a taste of some sort of food that “you just have to try!” We, myself and my daughters feel like we have become part of the family; and being part of the family you don’t really have a say in what happens to your hair.
I remember a couple of years ago when Baby girl came home for Christmas and declared she needed a hair cut, it proboably went like this, “Mom, I need to get my hairs cut!” Yip, hairs, all of them not just one..she thinks she is sooooo funny! Anyhoo…we took the extra time to get ready…drove into Efforttown and had said cut performed. Just a bit cut off , just the ends please. Next thing ya know, the whole way home I heard “but now I look like a soccer Mom”. Just what every 20 year old wants to look like, lol.
I have been coloring my hair for a long, long, long time…I was blonde when I first entered the salon and was quickly “updated” to dark brown. Like a goof, I faithfully strolled into the salon every 6 weeks for a touch up. Leaving enough money each time that it caused more than a little bit of marital anxiety. Having been retold (told I was retiring – gee thanks employer!) keeping that schedule was not going to work.
Just what color was my hair, I mean, really really? I took a four month hiatus from color and cut to find the truth. Wow! I real hair color was no where as dark as they were taking me, and not just because of the grey dear invisible readers! Yes, yes, there was grey but not a ton. Into Efforttown I go. Salon guy was a bit pissy that I hadn’t been in, told him I wanted to grey gracefully and showed him a cool bob cut I wanted. Can you do this? Sure, sure, it will be easy he said. Guess what? Came out looking like a Soccer Mom with hooker blonde hair?!?
Its time I think to try something new…to cheat. I am soooo nervous of this…Can I do it?