Category Archives: Misguided Musings

Tales of an Epic Vacation

Posted in Misguided Musings by

Who Loves Ya, Baby? 

Part 2   Santorini, Greece

                  We spent time in various locations and islands in Greece. The first two days in Santorini, then a ferry to Naxos where we spent four days, then we headed to Athens for a night, catching our cruise the following day.  While on the cruise, we also visited the islands of Paros, Rhodes, Crete, Kos and Syros.  In summary, all the islands were beautiful, but our four days in Naxos was my favourite. We had more time to spend to experience more of the island. The cruise ports were more highlights and tastes of Greece than actual in-depth experiences. 

                  We first landed in Santorini after our whirlwind in London of sightseeing and zombie-walking. A great opportunity to experience some of London, but something we should return to because friends are there now and just posted a picture of an Agathie Christie statue AND NOW I HAVE TO GO BACK TO SEE THAT UP CLOSE BECAUSE DAMMIT.

 Our time on the plane from London to Santorini was more like an episode from Coronation Street, than any trip I’ve ever encountered. A bride and her three kids plus groom and mothers and future in-laws were trying to figure out seating arrangements, dress storage all the while battling it out with passengers trying to pass them in the aisle to get to their seats. It was so ridiculous we had dibs on streaming season two, because damn, what a show! Would the bride make it to Greece? Would she still be getting married to Joe seated away from her and the three kiddos, in the front row? Because Girrrllll, drink all that Prosecco. You have all your shit together with the kiddos and their snacks, tablets, and headphones calmly sitting by the window gazing out at the sunshine. He was ready to throw Mama from the plane with all the “conversation” over who should be sitting in the front row with him and questioning the dress situation WHICH BRIDESMAID ALREADY TOOK CARE OF SO SIT YO ASS DOWN! Seriously, hope they had a nice wedding. Hope season two will be streaming soon.

We had the pleasure of staying at Nevma Suites in Santorini. A cliffside hotel, with breakfast and our own patio overlooking the water. Lovely.  Our first night we ate at a beautiful restaurant a little jaunt down a cobblestone pathway. The wind was gusty, but the stars were out. It was a lovely dinner. We stopped for beer and wine on our way back to our hotel at a store that was officially closed, but the owner took pity on us and let us in because a bunch of Canadians needed their beer to end their first evening in Greece. So nice! 

Our view at dinner
Our view on the cliffside from our hotel

The next day we travelled to Oia for the scenes and views and crowds…oh the crowds. When the cruise ships are in its hordes of people trampling up and down the cobblestone paths and alley ways. The sun was hot, and the winds were high. We stopped at the ruins of an old church to take some pics and wonder why we stopped at the ruins of an old church.  We took a break for lunch at a restaurant named, wait for it, the Blue Dome. By the time we had returned to our drop-off point the crowds had dissipated and it was less like the herding of cattle and more like a regular crowd on George St. Only, a little less drunk. 

Beautiful Tia

Dinner that night was at the Wine Bar. Ohhhh, the trip to the Wine Bar was an adventure to end all adventures. Wind, sun and an astounding uphill climb for THIRTY MINUTES.  I shit you not, GET A TRANSFER PEOPLE. We dressed in all our pretty dresses but sensible shoes because, “It’s a thirty-minute walk,” but THE PART ABOUT IT BEING COMPLETELY UPHILL MUST HAVE BEEN WHISPERED. I didn’t catch that. UPHILL? Fuck.  Did we take breaks? Nahh, who needs a break? We are hearty Canadians!  I did stop to admire the ladies who were getting their photos taken with the long dresses in the whipping wind over the cliffside. Probably a good idea I did not partake in such an event. One inch too far and KJ would have been decorating the side of the cliff with the dress left whipping behind.

Buh-bye KJ!

Better to be on solid FUCKING UPHILL ground. So, we trudged on. By the time we got closer to the restaurant, I was sweaty, sweary and ready to sit on the side of the road waiting for someone to take pity on me and carry me back to the hotel. Again, we are hearty Canadians, and we made it to the bar. It was small and we had a big table outside overlooking the water to see the sunset over the cliffs. Amazing. Then, the wind came up. The sun went down.

Oooohhhh beautiful sunset, can we start the bonfire now, because FUCKING COLD. Seriously, cold in Santorini?  It was more, KJ and the neighbours sitting on a patio watching the sunset with the 100km/h winds on the edge of Signal Hill, Newfoundland than heat-soaked Greece. We sat through our appetizers huddled in blankets and hoping the wind would fuck-off, but I think it got worse. We were then shuffled inside at the bequest of our newfound friend and organizer of the Wine Bar affair, whom I love and mean no harm in the above sarcasm and am eternally grateful for getting us a cozy spot inside to eat our meal and not be blown to shit in the wind. Our pics are great, by the way, especially of our hair blown about and looking like we just had a beat-down with a rabid raccoon, or was that just me? Ugh. 

So cozy!

                  We got a TRANSFER BACK TO THE HOTEL BECAUSE THANK FUCK where we proceeded to pack and get ready for our next adventure to Naxos the following day via ferry. The ferry in Greece operates a lot like Mario Brothers on crack. You play chicken with the cars that are loading AT THE SAME TIME YOU ARE TRYING TO WALK ON THE BOAT so don’t walk the wrong way or Mario can’t save the princess and he loses a life that they don’t give a fuck about so just keep dodging traffic, and people and hang on to your luggage for fuck’s sake and look out of the way. Yeah, like that.   F.U.N. 

Who loves ya, baby?

Tales of An Epic Vacation  

Posted in Misguided Musings by

Where’s the Loo?  

Part 1 London

The title says it all, doesn’t it? A vacation to end all vacations, we travelled abroad and were able to see red telephone booths (What? I like them!), drunk dancing, ancient ruins and camels with questionable behaviours that would rival any current president. Yeah, I went there. Let’s get into it.

Since the airlines in Newfoundland have decided to take pity on us, again, we have a few options to go across the pond without first travelling three and a half hours in the opposite direction, only to turn around and head back. Now, we can get a direct flight from St. John’s to Gatwick, or to Dublin. No going backwards first. Thrilling for us islanders and we took full advantage of it. 

An overnight six-hour flight and we landed in Gatwick tired, cranky and sounding like any true Brit! Fake accents, smelly travel clothes and whining about the train ride we were about to take to get into London. We dropped our bags at the hotel and hoped no one was interested in an overstuffed backpack blazoned with a Canadian flag and weighed closely to that of a small child. That was my idea of ‘packing light.’ It came back to bite me in the ass when we trudged up a hill in Greece in thirty-degree Celsius heat to get to our hotel because, “it’s only a short walk.” Fuck you, it was a LONG WALK UPHILL AND I SWEAT AND SWORE THE ENTIRE WAY.  But I digress…

London. We landed at Victoria station and tried to decide the best way to see everything in five hours or less without falling asleep standing up or being run over by wild taxi drivers or double-decker buses. So fun! We headed right, because we saw a sign that said Buckingham Palace with an arrow, so we followed that. Canadian ingenuity at its peak! There was also discussion about where to stop for lunch, since we were hungry and who wants to encounter a group of hangry Canadians. We might tell you to move out of the way instead of saying, “Excuse me!”  Totally unacceptable behaviour. Anyway, we followed the arrow, then the signs then got momentarily distracted by the multitude of pubs along the way and stopped and admired the beer, then finally got to the palace. We stopped. Took pics. See?  

Then we headed back the way we came, after some discussion about which direction that was, and then made it to a pub aptly named a Bag O’Nails.

Nice bar. Can I get the gps coordinates for the loo, please?
Yummy fish and chips because so hard to find in St. John’s!

Lovely. Who wouldn’t want to have fish and chips there? We are so adventurous!  Luckily, no nails were consumed, but there was beer. And an interesting trip to the ladies’ room which was situated upstairs and through a fire exit door, like WTF dudes?  We have to pee, and you think it’s fun to send us on a scavenger hunt to find the lady’s room? The men’s room was seriously, right across the bar. I felt a call to rise and protest, but who has that kind of time? And me without my sign. Dammit. 

We left the bar and headed in a direction I can’t remember despite my detailed notes. We did manage to find an old red telephone booth that I gleefully went inside to snap some pics and carefully sanitized my hands immediately following.

Because you needed to see me coming out of a phone booth!

And we managed to see some of the highlights like the London Eye, Westminster Abbey and a Palestinian protest. Bonus!   We convinced Hubby to move along lest he forgot he was no longer in the police force and decide to “help” the other members out. The protestors seemed quite peaceful for the most part, so we skedaddled out of there and kept on walking. And walking. And walking. Until we looked like the characters from the Walking Dead and thought getting back to the hotel would be a good idea. Yay!  Now, if only we could find that….

Westminster Abbey
Big Ben!

The tube! Great. Which way? No idea, I thought you knew. Nope, not a clue. Let’s ask. Asking. Oh, the other way. Found the tube. Found the express to Gatwick and fell asleep on the train. Got to the hotel. Ate, drank, then went to bed.  That was London. A very short extravaganza of evading protests, taking in sights and staying awake long enough to make it back to the hotel without ending up in some rando suburb where we would be forced to drink beer and recite our national anthem. Although, that does sound interesting now that I see it on paper…

It should be noted that the weather was cooperative. Sunny and warm but not too hot. No torrential rain or sleet to make us want to bury our heads and drown our sorrows in beer at a pub. That would not have been such a bad way to spend an afternoon. The next day we were on a plane out of Gatwick and on to beautiful Santorini built onto the sides of cliffs with the classic blue and white structures, and beautiful sunsets. And wind to rival any Newfoundland coastline. Glad I brought my sweater for the evening out of, “This feels like I’m on my back patio forcing myself to stay outside because it’s summer, dammit!” and my walking shoes because she was steep! 

Stay tuned for our Greece adventure and why I advise GETTING A FUCKING TRANSFER TO THE WINE BAR FOR FUCK’S SAKE. My glutes are fine….

Santorini. Built on kind of a big hill.

Sip Happens: A Journey Through the World of Wine

Posted in Misguided Musings by

            “No poem was ever written by a drinker of water” – Horace.

            Throughout history, wine has been the beverage of choice. Jesus turned water into wine, the gladiators toasted a great murdering beast with wine and royalty from around the world have cellars stocked with the most intriguing, expensive, and rare wines ever made. It’s no wonder people turn to wine as their drink of choice. If it’s good enough for Jesus and murdering gladiators, then who are we to disagree?

            Wine has also made many leery. Purchasing the wrong bottle for that special occasion can throw a chink in the armor of good taste. And when your host opens that cute wine bag you took so long choose, only to pull out a wine they detest or one they can’t pronounce, it can get awkward. “Oh, gee thanks KJ. This crap will go great with those Cheetos over there.”  It happens. It’s hard not to look like an amateur wine connoisseur when there are so many pretty labels out there just begging you to try them. How are you to know which wine is the best for which occasion when yesterday you were just trying to wear pants that fit? It’s a struggle.

            I thought I would list a few words out of the twenty-four I found to describe this lovely beverage to assist with the buying of said wine. We don’t want you to look like a total neanderthal. I mean, I have two words (technically it’s four) in my vocabulary to describe wine. “Good,” and “not-so-good.” There is no such thing as a bad wine. Only bad taste. Let’s dig into a couple of these tenacious terms so we can look a little more sophisticated and not so obtuse when venturing into the liquor store. You. Are. Welcome.

  • Balance – Balance is simple. It is simply when a wine is smooth and harmonious, and not one flavor sticks out among the rest. We all need balance in our lives, so why not let the wine balance us out?
  • Tannins – Tannins basically refer to the drying sensation left in your mouth after drinking. Mainly found in red wine, tannins are naturally occurring compounds found inside grape skins, seeds, and stems. 
  • Terroir – Terroir is a French term which translates to a ‘sense of place.’ It refers to how a particular region’s natural conditions like its climate, soils and terrain affect the taste of the wine.
  • Earthy – While many wines are described as ‘fruit-forward’, an earthy wine will have aromas of wild mushrooms, forest floor and autumn leaves. I love me some autumn leaves. Typically, “earthy” wines include Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Pinot Noir.
  • Nose – A nose is just a nose, except in this case. The first step when tasting wine is to smell it. The word ‘nose’ is just the fancy way of describing the scents and aromas of the wine. Also, using the word ‘bouquet’ to describe a combination of aromas in the wine will really impress your guests. Give it a go!

Now, I don’t know all this information off the top of my head, I mean how impressed would you be!  I had help. If you want more of an inside look at wine, I found this wonderful information here. I encourage you to check it out for yourself!

Not to be outdone, I have come up with some wonderful terms of my own that should amaze and delight your friends. Feel free to use at your will:

KJ’s Wine Words

1. Grape-ful Thinking – The optimistic belief that the more grapes you think about while sipping wine, the healthier it becomes. Bonus points if you can name all the grapes in your glass!

2. Merloved It – The feeling of deep affection for a Merlot that surpasses the ordinary liking of wines. You might find yourself writing love letters to that special bottle.

3. Chardonnayway – The classy and graceful exit you make when someone starts criticizing your choice of Chardonnay. Because, let’s be honest, you’ll enjoy your buttery delight Chardonnayway!

4. Somm-thing’s Fishy – The suspicious feeling that the sommelier is recommending the most expensive wine just to see if you’ll flinch. Use this term cautiously when questioning wine choices.

5. Corknosis – The hypnotic state induced by watching someone expertly open a bottle of wine. You’re so mesmerized that you forget you’re waiting to drink the wine.

6. Tannin-tastic – When a wine’s tannins are so bold and robust that you momentarily forget what you were talking about. “This Cabernet is tannin-tastic! Now, what were we saying about aliens?”

7. Zin-derella Story – The magical transformation that occurs when a Zinfandel perfectly complements a dish, turning an ordinary meal into a fairy tale feast.

8. Bubblybloop – The delightful sound that occurs when you accidentally spill a bit of your sparkling wine. It’s not a spill; it’s a celebration!

9. Noirgasm – The overwhelming pleasure experienced when sipping an exceptional Pinot Noir. It’s like a flavor explosion in your mouth, and you might need a moment alone with your glass.

10. Corktastrophe – The disaster that strikes when you break the cork while attempting to open a bottle. It’s okay; just filter out the cork bits, and no one will be the wiser.

Personally, I like mine better. More in tune with the company I keep. Know your audience and all that.  It should be noted that not all wines are created equal and just because the bottle is at a higher price point doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a better tasing wine. I’ve tried twelve-dollar bottles that can rival any thirty-dollar bottle. The taste is with the taster and if you enjoy it, that’s all that really matters.  I’ve been to a couple of wine tasing escapades, one in Tuscany, Italy and I have to say the wine was wonderful. It could have been the history of the family, the region the wine was made, the great company we had and the atmosphere of sipping wine and cheese in a traditional winery that had us giddy with delight. Or the amount of wine we had. We could have stayed all day had they let us.

Next time you venture out to get that special someone a bottle of red, white, or rose, remember your wine words and have fun. Nothing is better than a nice glass or five with your besties and the Cheetos that pair well with that Cab. Enjoy!

 Pretentious Golf Balls and Wayward Golf Carts Make Golfing Fun!

Posted in Misguided Musings by

Last week, we decided to embark on a golfing day. Well, Hubby and friends decided, I just tagged along. I have never golfed before, so I was more involved with cart-driving, than the let’s-hit-the-little-white-ball-into-Neverland kinda of thing. Really, I was the fan/heckler that propelled them onto greatness. Without me, they would have felt lonely out there on that little tee box. Who wouldn’t want to hear the shouts of the one lowly fan, “YOU SUCK!” before they hit the ball?  They whacked that ball so hard I couldn’t see where it landed. I was not so skilled.

I tried a couple of shots, but I was lucky if the ball managed to roll a few inches ahead of me. I lined up in front of the ball, my hands positioned like they told me (once we figured left from right. That’s part of the challenge.) took aim and swung. All I got was air. I lined up again, only this time my club nudged the ball and it fell off the tee. Fuck. I put it back on the tee and tried again. WHACK. Two feet. I swear to God the ball refused to move. It rolled off the tee like, “Stop it lady, you aren’t worthy of my presence. Get back in the cart and stop embarrassing both of us.”  I hate golf.

Sign? What sign?

Once we figured out if I was a lefty or a righty, it was a bit better. And by better, I mean I hit the ball a few inches. It didn’t pathetically roll on the grass like a toddler and stare at me sadly, waiting for somebody to save it from being ridiculed by the other golf balls. It spun out in front and landed with a thud, and I was momentarily proud, until friends took their turn and showed me up with their prowess. HOW? How can you hit the ball? And so straight? What magic do you know that I don’t? There’s got to be a secret to this weird ability to hit a little stupid ball so far. Is it a special club? A secret swing? I know, its that glove you wear on the wrong hand, like a Michael Jackson accessory, that allows you to take better aim.

FORE! Magic…

Golf etiquette is a thing I’ve learned. Shut up while people take aim, but once they swing, it’s all hail the shouting and jeering. At least, that’s what I did. And we drove the cart right next to where the ball landed so we didn’t have to walk, like we can’t bring ourselves to hike a few feet in wet grass to get the little ball, so let’s ride around in the cart and find all the golf balls and point to them so we can hit them again. So supportive of your fellow golfers. “Here’s your ball and since it’s way back here, you can hit it first, loser.” Nice. “Oh, look your ball is in this dirt pit. Chuck it out while we watch and try not to laugh too hard when the dirt flies up and temporarily blinds you.”  “Oh, your ball landed in the trees? Just take another one and drop it inconspicuously in front of you.” It’s like you’re in the mafia and nobody saw nothin’ and nobody knows shit. Best. Game Ever.

 Searching out the balls was the best. I was tempted to ask if we could do donuts on the course, but I thought we might get banned from the place, so I kept quiet. I wouldn’t want Hubby and friends to get kicked out on my behalf. Hubby wouldn’t let me drive the cart too much due to the winding cart paths and many hills. I guess off-roading with golf carts is frowned upon. I would think if people were out and had a few drinks in them, a few wayward golf carts were probably abound. We had the first tee time of the day, so no drinking at 8:00am, kids, we are a right proper sport. At least wait until 8:30am. Probably a good thing we were sober, and Hubby drove. There were a few bridges, and I could see me tipping that cart into the water. It would be interesting watching the maintenance guys drag a cart from the creek while Hubby tried to defend my driving. “No, really, she just drives like that all the time. Sorry, ‘bout that.”

The golf cart I was allowed to only drive on the paths. Boring….

All in all, a great day. The weather cooperated with no wind and a good temp. We had a few rabbits watching from afar, but generally an empty course. Probably why they let me take a few shots. Nobody would see me roll the ball off the tee and they wouldn’t have to explain my presence. “Yeah, we had to bring her.” Like when your mom made you take your little sister to the park, and you had to explain to your friends, but you would rather have lost her to the monster in the woods.

Kinda like that.

I admired from afar…and heckled a little bit.

Taylor Swift, AI and Aging With More Sass and Less Grace

Posted in Misguided Musings by

            Did you get a Swiftie ticket? When did going to concerts involve so much kerfuffle?

Didn’t it used to be just a matter of getting everyone together, grabbing a few tickets and seeing a show? Now, it’s registering here, verifying you are a person (AI is real and whoa, are we in for some shocking shit. Automated taxi cabs in San Fran just quit working and caused a traffic jam. No, that’s not out of a Sci-Fi show, it’s real. Fuck off, really? YES.)  and waiting to see if you are ALLOWED to buy a ticket. ALLOWED?! WHAT?! Bitch, you should be happy people WANT to see you. And I know it’s not HER exactly causing this backlog of ticket mania, but geez people. Really? Can’t she just record a few shows and put them out on YouTube or something so the peeps who can’t see her, can watch it like LIVEAID did back in the day? THAT WAS EPIC. Do that, Taylor. Do a concert for charity with Ed and all your buddies and stream it live so all the peeps can watch. There. Fixed it for you. You. Are. Welcome.

The new novel is going well, thanks. Not much fanfare or ado about it. Just trying to finish it before Christmas. That would be nice. Considering the first one was written four years ago. You know, taking my time. Stuff happens. Procrastination is real. I’ll be diligently working on a chapter then, wham! Oooh, look a shiny thing. Pretty! Done.   

The grandchild is growing like da weed and is already babbling, “Dada.” Soon she’ll be toddling along then before you know it, she’ll be driving her mom’s car and starting her own clothing line with a mini boutique opening downtown. Time flies. I’ll be lamenting my old arthritic joints and hoping I don’t fall on the sidewalk…kinda the same as now, but with whiter hair and more sass. I’ll stumble, pull myself together then swear about it, loudly. Probably ask where my wine glass is, and how did anyone think me walking was a good idea? Obviously, not my fault. Not much difference from now and when I’m eighty. So much to look forward to!

I’m finding it increasingly difficult to get onto the floor then get back up again. Having a grandchild reminds me how old I really am becoming. Also, new body parts start to inexplicably hurt. Like today it was my wrist. Yesterday, my ankle. Tomorrow it could be my earlobe, or eyebrows…who the fuck knows? It’s like my body parts had a session and decided what days they were going to set up a protest. Its rotating strikes for each body part. Each day it’s a surprise and it’s now your mission to discover new ways of working around that non-operational part. Ankle gave out? You’re limping. Ear hurts? Figure it out, bitch this is your life now. Getting old sucks.

I find my patience is waning. The other day while driving my daughter and her fiancée downtown, I was expressing my displeasure with drivers. She said I had road rage. My future son-in-law chimed in and said it wasn’t road rage, it was a lack of patience for stupid drivers, and I appreciated that. My daughter thought we needed to perhaps take a breath and be better people. We are good people when other people are less stupid. I think we had a point and won that conversation.

Summer is coming to an end and the sadness that comes with that realization is tangible. We didn’t have enough nice weather to say we had a summer. We had two weeks of heat, and the rest was a light Fall. A heavy Spring? Definitely not summer. I’m hoping we have a return of light Fall so that I can enjoy my non-summer a little bit longer. Maybe even into measurably mediocre Autumn, before we get into Frosty freezing Winter with a sprinkle of an Arctic vortex that only polar bears wearing their Canada Goose parkas could stand. Ugh. I just need a few more days where I can go outside, see the actual sunshine, and not wear a coat. All at the same time. A big ask, I know. Pull it together, Summer. YOU HAVE ONE JOB.

And now you can go back to whatever you were supposed to be doing before reading this shit. You should know better than to get distracted by the internet. And go find out about AI so you can tell other people and we can prevent it taking over the world, especially California where they seem to be fucked already. Way to go, Cali.