Fallness IS a Word, I Just Made it Up. Also, My Back Hurts.

My back is giving me grief today.  Day three of pain.  It started out on Saturday evening and by Sunday night, I was walking like a Zombie looking for his next brain.  Ugh.  I made it to work, but exercising has taken a back seat to attempts at finding a comfy spot.  Sitting is difficult and trying to get in any kind of horizontal position is downright impossible.  I get sympathy looks and offers for pillows.  I also get the dog jumping at me incessantly and the ‘well, since you’re up…’ from kids.  MOM CAN’T SIT DOWN SO LET’S GET HER TO GET EVERYTHING FOR US WHILE SHE’S STILL ABLE TO WALK.  Nice.

Fun Fact: I can sleep upright.  Also, getting your birth units to assist in donning footwear is embarrassing (apparently, more for them) and filled with exclamations of ‘ewww’ and ‘ugh.  I can’t WAIT until you’re OLD.’   Don’t worry about it, kid I’ll just wear my slippers all of the time.  Even out in public.  I CAN’T WAIT UNTIL I’M OLD EITHER  AND I MAKE YOU TAKE ME SHOPPING AND OUT TO RESTAURANTS AND PLACES YOU DON’T WANT TO GO.  IN MY SLIPPERS.  AND JUST FOR FUN I’LL WEAR MY SWEATPANTS, TOO.

So there.

I have a few posts just waiting for the right time to hit the blog, but I seem to have abandoned them for the ‘right time’….what?   Not sure when that will be.  One is very positive and pleading with humanity to get a grip and try to be nice and let’s all just get along…also, I may have been hopped up on muscle relaxants and pain pills at the time.   The other is about my trip to get a tattoo.  It’s a fun-filled romp into ‘WTF I’m Fifty’.  AND ‘NO MUSCLE RELAXANTS IN THAT BIT O’PAIN ALL IN THE NAME OF ART’.  Sure to make one shake her head in ‘WTF is wrong with her’…like I haven’t heard THAT one before.  No judging.

There’s also a great character sketch about a shrunken pirate head.

I know.  NOW, you can’t wait for that one.

Hope you are all enjoying the fallness of the season and are able to tie your shoes unassisted.

It’s the little things, people.


fall leaves










The Journey of Self-Discovery


As we get older, I think we realize the person we have become is different than the one we envisioned ten, twenty or even thirty years ago.  We aren’t as rich as we thought or driving that Jag we had hoped.   Our professional aspirations may have hit a few snags along the way and we opted for security instead of enjoyment, or the opposite and opted for enjoyment instead of security.  We didn’t marry that guy or venture to the outreaches of the universe…or join the Peace Corps because the best friend at the time, had the logical explanation of running water was obsolete and showering might be an issue.  Duh.  I kinda knew that…and who wants to bother saving the world anyway, when you have more important things to do like date that guy who says he’s applied to be a Mountie?   Gawd, who wants to date a pre-Mountie?    Well….

Maybe one date.

Whatever it was, the path we may began has somehow veered off into directions that have been surprising or disappointing, depending on your point of view.  Spending valuable time and energy wondering what may have been is a waste and I try to concentrate on the here and now.  Not the yesterdays or the last weeks.  Not the tomorrows or the next weeks or even next years.  Today.  What’s happening today?

My interests have become varied and I’ve often switched creative ventures, balancing the need to be alone with the need to be writing or painting or doing something crafty.  It’s weird.  I was never a crafty person, but I’ve found lately I enjoy the solitude of sanding a chair or refurbishing a dresser.  I like the work with my hands and the dust on the floor.  I like the smell of the paint and the different looks I can make if I mix two colours together.  It makes me feel productive….accomplished? Maybe?  I don’t know.

It’s not something I’ve ever imagined myself doing, but somehow it comes naturally to me.  I look for pieces to redo.  I get complaints from the fam that there is simply no room for another piece of furniture, but I look anyway.  There will always be room…somewhere.

The dreaded “M” word is knocking on my door and a day does not go by without another exclamation of ‘oh, what fresh hell is THIS’ from my lips.  Now, it’s a rash…next week it will be the ever refreshing onslaught of hot flashes, the week after….who knows?  THAT’S WHY WE NEED HOBBIES. AND WINE.

To keep from maiming those around us…

And to keep us sane.  Busy.  Useful.  Needed.

So, on your journey into Self-discovery, don’t dwell too much on the past and concentrate your energy instead on the here and now.  The accomplishments you have achieved, the awesome person you have become and are still becoming.  The people around you who have been influenced and are touched by your presence.

AND, for those of you who are encountering the ‘M’ word, or are about to, remember WHORE…

W- ine





Because without Whore, we would simply be OLD ladies repainting shit.


My mason jars are apparently out of control….


Bestie’s refurbished rocker…I think I need a matching one…


It’s 5am



It’s 5:00 am – The alarm rings.   I think I just made it to sleep at 3:30.  Surprisingly, I don’t feel tired.  I feel kinda… ready.  Huh.

5:02 – drag myself to the bathroom to change.

5:05- Make lunch for work.  I need coffee.  Kiss the dog.  Kiss Hubby.  Where’s the damned coffee?

5:20 – text Frankie to say ‘I can drive’.  Make coffee.

5:28am – after waiting for a response, realize I texted the daughter instead.  Oops. I send her a smiley face with a ‘mornin’ sunshine’ text.  That makes everything better at 5am.     Text the right Frankie.  Drain the last of my coffee.  I love coffee.

5:36 – Pick up Frankie.  It’s dark and mild and the pavement is shiny and black from the midnight rain.  Quiet and still.  We drive in relative silence.  Thinking is too much right now.

5:40- Bright light.  Cool air blowing from the AC.  Waiting in the studio for everyone to show.  It’s quiet.  It’s too early for conversation.

5:45 – It’s loud.   Music is blaring.  We start moving.  My legs are stiff and sore.  I do it anyways.

Sometime mid-workout – I watch the sweat drip from my face onto the studio floor and wonder if I am going to make it.  TRX mountain climbers.  Fuck you. Don’t stop.  Keep going.

Nearing the end – Burpees.  Shoulder presses.  I’m burning.  Lunges.  Did I take 2 different weights?  Ugh.  I’m better for choosing the heavier weights.  Always go for the heavier weights.

The end –   I think I cried a little when I finally worked my way through the last station and could fling myself onto my back for the cooldown.  I’m better for having finished the workout.

Cool down –I’m better for having listened to my alarm. I’m better for showing up.   I’m better for doing one last burpee. I’m better for not giving up.  I’m just better.  Better than a year ago.  Better than 6 months ago, better than last week.  Better than yesterday.  And I’ll be better tomorrow and better a few more times by Friday.    *sigh*

Always think, ‘I am better’…




No Dress Rehearsal

This is the first post I’ve written since my Aunt died.  I haven’t been able to post anything since.  She read everything I wrote.  She commented on everything I posted.  Sometimes it seemed like she was my only ‘fan’.  I still think that. Even if what I wrote was total crap, she liked it.  She laughed at it.  She loved it anyway…at least, she made it look like she did.   I didn’t realize how much I wrote knowing she was there to read it, until after she was gone.  It’s weird she won’t read this.  I think she would have liked this one…

Maya Angelou said “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”   

What an emotional week.  The Hip concert, our friend crashing his bike, another friend’s mother has heart issues and an old friend of our family died this morning…it seems that life is taking a journey into a roller coaster of ‘life is too short’ expressions and asking us all to take a good hard look at how we do this life thing and get on with it.  Move it, sista and get to whatever it is you need to do because tomorrow is not promised to you.  It is dangled precariously in front of your face, lulling you into a false sense of promised procrastination, all the while the edge of that cliff draws ever so near.

There is no waiting until tomorrow, or I’ll get to it next week, it’s now or never time.  It’s the time to do that massive thing you’ve always wanted to do because tomorrow is gonna be too late!  Never have I felt so urgent a need to appreciate a day in the sunshine or a day in the rain as I have this week.  To love my grey hair, (sorry bestie) my uneven walk and my penchant for junk food…hell I’m even relishing my descent into madness (via the other M word) and learning to cope with hot flashes and mood swings…Yeah, it’s happening and that’s a whole other rant.  I’m grateful…just to be able to feel something and relate and cope and struggle and rant.  I’m grateful for the opportunity.  I’m grateful for this day.

Saturday night, Canada closed down for three precious hours and said goodbye to Gord Downie and The Hip.  The band. The Canadian guys.  The guy who is dying, has his days numbered on a calendar and instead of taking to his bed and laying down, he got out into the spotlight and sang his heart out in towns across Canada to say goodbye and thank you to his fans and the people who supported his music and his life for the past 52years.  How awesome is that?  It must have drained every last bit of energy in him to hit that stage and sing, perform and dance for his fans, his people.  The mere act of standing must have taken its toll, but he did it anyway.  He cried, screamed, danced and sang all laying it out for the country he loved, to see.  He sang with humility, honesty and a great deal of force. There was no time to hold back, no putting it off until tomorrow or next week, it was now time.  It was heartbreaking and emotional and difficult to watch, but we did anyway.

That’s what walking through life is, isn’t it?  Singing, dancing, screaming, crying all with a great deal of humility, love, passion and power until finally you are no more.

With illusions of someday casting a golden light. No dress rehearsal, this is our life.”

Get to it.  We have to crush this living thing…we owe it to the people who don’t have that chance, who will never have that chance.  We owe it to ourselves at the very least.



The Abyss of Indifference

The Brock Turner case has me gutted.  The awful story of the Stanford swimmer who sexually assaulted a young unconscious woman and left her behind a dumpster.  The guy who was reportedly so great, that they posted his swimming times to get you on board with their horribly flawed thinking that ‘he’s an athlete, so he’s awesome and this was a mistake’.  A MISTAKE.  An OOPS.   Thinking an elephant can do ballet in a pink tutu is a MISTAKE.   He raped an unconscious college student. SO MUCH MORE THAN A MISTAKE.   Could have been my daughter.  Or your daughter. She is somebody’s daughter. Amidst the online outrage and social media comments, it’s devastating to think this happened at all.  Heartbreaking for the victim, devastating to think this young man feels that he has a defense and moreover, actually justified in what he did.  And so does his father!  And apparently the male judge.   There is no defense for rape.  It is immoral, illegal, horrendous and WRONG. ALL KINDS OF WRONG.  I read his statement to the judge.  He was sorry for drinking.  He was sorry ‘this happened’.  He was sorry he got caught up in the ‘party culture’.  Never once did he deny he raped the woman.  Never once did he say he was sorry for a total disregard for her well-being, her health, or her safety by dragging her behind a dumpster and assaulting her!!  Never once did he even acknowledge his responsibility.  Everybody else was having sex so he thought he should too?!  Willing or unwilling partner, conscious or unconscious it was all the same.   It was the drinking that made him do it??!! IT WAS A MISTAKE.

There were many injustices with this case, not just the appalling lack of jail time of a mere 6 months which was a slap in the face of victims everywhere, but also the abhorrent disregard for the victim here.  The total lack of empathy for her as a human being was horrifying to me.

I see the tweets from women who are angry and news outlets are running around looking for legal experts who are frothing at the mouth just waiting for their chance to trash the judge who thought it was too hard for the boy who is a great swimmer to spend more time in jail than six months.  And the father who said his son shouldn’t have to pay a huge price for “20minutes of action.”  ACTION??!!!!  WRONG ANSWER. WRONG.  What happened to people?  Has humanity taken a giant leap into the abyss of indifference that we blindly allow our kids to do whatever it is they want without consequence?  Without conscience?  With total disregard for someone else?  Really?

I’m looking at the parents here.  What makes a young man think that it’s okay to sexually assault, physically assault, verbally assault ANYONE, let alone a woman without regard to her as a person?  SHE IS A PERSON.  A HUMAN BEING.  How did he not see that?


He did not see her as a human with feelings or thoughts or intelligence.  She was an object to him.  Something he could use at his discretion and toss aside.  Willing or not.  Conscious or not.   There is something wrong when a young man possesses such a level of omnipotence and entitlement to make him believe that anything about this was okay; that it was okay to drag a young unconscious woman to a secluded place behind a dumpster to have sex with her whether she knew it or not.  Consented or not.  Aware or not!   Or maybe he had a hunch that it was wrong, hence the move behind the dumpster thing, but hey, nobody will find out so who cares?  If that was his thinking, then that’s even more disturbing.

Respect for people who include women, children, men, grandparents, was that ever given a thought?  Community obligations?  School?  Friends?  We have to find out what went wrong that made this seem like an okay evening activity for this kid. Where did he get the idea that this was fine?  Acceptable behaviour?  And then not take responsibility for anything.  She was drunk.  I was drunk.  It was a party.  What?!  Young adults and teens have to be made to take responsibility for their shit.  I’m not just talking about school, although that’s a good start.  Be responsible for their friends, for their jobs for their community for their parents’ feelings.  People have feelings, as basic a notion as that is, it’s hard for some kids to even see their parents as people.  The parents.  They tell us what to do.  Tell us where we should be, how to behave, who to hang out with, to clean our room, to be nice to the neighbour’s cat…they also laugh, cry and hurt, feel pain.  Human stuff.   Fact.  Parents are people.  People have feelings.  So do girls and boys and men and grandpas and grandmas and that young drunk woman over there who is unconscious lying behind the dumpster!!   Remember the feelings board?  This is Kindergarten stuff.

Maybe if that comes first, then this wouldn’t happen as often.

Not that it will never happen again, there are bad things that happen to good people all of the time.  That’s life.  But better parents make better children and those children grow up to be better adults and better adults make better parents and better parents make better children; in the basic cyclical sense, this is how it is supposed to be.   AND, by ‘better’ I mean respectful, responsible, kind, empathetic, intelligent…

I posted the video below because it was awesome in its simplicity and its message.  Consent.  So in line with respect.

It really isn’t that hard.  Share it, breathe it, live it.

There are heroes to this story who should be applauded.  Not just for stepping in and helping a victim of a heinous crime, but for not even thinking about NOT helping.  There was no thought, only selfless action on their part.  THEIR 20MINUTES OF ACTION DESERVE MORE ATTENTION, APPLAUSE AND PRAISE.

Carl Arndt and  Peter Jonsson ,both from Sweden






East Coast Trail The Sequel, With Art and Everything!

We, meaning the ladies and I and a few little ones, embarked on our second epic East Coast trail hike last Sunday morning onto Cobbler Path.

2016 645  A 4kms and change hike into awesomeness that can only be described as steep and climby and a wee bit sweary.   Although it wasn’t raining…it was foggy, instead.  Newfoundland weather never disappoints.

2016 657

See over the cliff?  That’s the ocean.  See it? IT’S RIGHT THERE! 

So foggy, I couldn’t see the ocean…which was a bummer because who doesn’t like to see the ocean?   AND, we had to walk/hike/climb and of course, swear up the long stairs onto a steep cliff to look down and see…nothingness.  White nothingness.  Ugh.  At least we got through it…with a balancing act of epic proportions, I might add.

2016 647


2016 665


The last pics are the artwork we found on the buildings just as we were heading out of Red Cliff.





2016 678

They are waiting for me to cross the rocks and water.  Smartasses.  

2016 700

Graceful as fuck.  Again. 

2016 702

We are happy we are not lost in the fog…BTW…THERE’S THE OCEAN IN THE BACKGROUND.  WE FOUND IT. 

Wow…a wee bit sweary, but interesting for sure…

Our next adventure we are expecting to see actual vistas…and scenes.  And hopefully each other at some point.  One of the ladies is hoping there will be railings on the stairs, but I’m not holding my breath.

2016 667               2016 685






East Coast Trail Hike

So, the ladies have decided to try to conquer some of the East Coast Trails this summer and I decided in my infinite wisdom to join them.  We attempted one of the ‘easier’ trails on Saturday amidst the rain and muck and slippery-as-fuck rocks.  Did I say I ‘attempted’ the trail?  Yeah.

2016 6312016 642

2016 637

The cliff of no return

2016 639

2016 645

Graceful as fuck

2016 6442016 627

2016 634

I’m over here!

As you can see by the photos, I’m not only waaaay behind ALL of them, I’m also as graceful as fuck when crossing the streams and smooth as silk rocks that beg you to just TRY to pirouette over them without slamming your face into theirs.  Seriously, East Coast Trail Association…your definition of ‘easy’ is so very different than mine.

Also, notice the sky high cliffs with the death-drops that defy anyone to take a jump and actually live to tell about it.  Bestie is not allowed to work at the suicide hotline after saying she could give tips if someone really wanted to be done away with life.  “I could just tell them where the best cliff is to make sure they’re not coming back.  No question on that one.   Oooh…just look at that drop!  There’s NO WAY your face will be recognizable after that!”  See?  She is your go-to girl for maps on telling life to take a flying leap…literally.

I’m expecting the next adventure to be just as ‘fun’ as this one.  It was enjoyable, except for the ‘wait for me’ and ‘do we have to cross that rushing water again?’ moments.  I’m just glad I didn’t have to pee.


Here are the links where to find the trails and the descriptions of each one.  If you’re out this way this summer, take on a trail but be prepared.  Take water, snacks, maps and maybe somebody who is sturdy on their feet.


Our first foray into trail hiking was this one:  Silver Mine Head Path http://eastcoasttrail.ca/trail/view.php?id=24