Who wants a chance to come to Muskoka?

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Christmas is just around the corner and we at Shamrock Lodge are trying to do what we can to make the season a little brighter for some kids that may not have much of a Christmas.

We are asking people to send new toys or gift cards for our Toy Drive at Shamrock Lodge in Muskoka.  In turn, your name will be entered for a chance to win a weekend for two (2) people, travel costs not included.   We are nestled on the shores of beautiful Lake Rosseau and are a quaint, family run lodge.

If you can find it in your hearts to help our cause, we would greatly appreciate it.  I’d love to see this toy box overflowing and brighten a few smiles this holiday season.

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Message me if you are interested in more details on how you can help and have a chance to win a weekend here.

A worthwhile journey

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Today my brother, sister-in-law and I spent the better part of the afternoon moving the remaining pieces of furniture from my mom’s house into their winter storage spot.  The house will be going on the market shortly and we need to store the rest of her belongings while we get her opinion and decide what to do with them.

Emptying the trinkets from the larger hutches had me looking over my shoulder a few times for the TV crew from the show Hoarders, but it was only the three of us and the overwhelming presence of nostalgia.  As each set of glasses or bowls was uncovered I was transported back to my youth.  It amazes me that a glass dish contains the power to bend time.  So many memories are locked in the tiny particles that make up those dishes and just holding them in my hands brought those moments rushing back.

Subtle whispers from past holiday meals escaped from a simple gravy boat.  Recollections of chocolate pudding with a graham wafer crust and whipped cream were etched into a set of glass bowls.  Hidden photographs spoke volumes as they escaped their incarceration in an old shoe box.

Each flashback was just as special and having my brother there to share them was time that I will treasure. Having the afternoon to stroll down memory lane was worth fending off the below zero temperatures as we loaded the trailer several times to empty a house that used to be a home.  And even though I don’t have room in my house for any new dishes, those things may find their way into my cupboards so I can listen to those voices from the past a few more times.

Requesting a favor

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Hello to all of my blogging, Facebook and Twitter friends.  I am appealing to you for a bit of help.  I have started a new blog for Shamrock Lodge (my new job) and would love and appreciate it if you could check it out and follow if you could.  The more exposure we get, the longer I get to keep my job.  😉

Here is a picture of where I get to go every day to work, and below is the link to the new blog site.

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Shamrock Lodge

What I learned about giving thanks

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This weekend is Thanksgiving for me and my fellow Canadians.  I have enjoyed many family celebrations and each year that we are able to get together for a family gathering, we are all thankful for those moments and for the people in our lives.  This year I was given a truly different perspective on what it means to be genuinely thankful.

Each October the family I work for invites their extended family to the lodge for Thanksgiving.  And each year, one of the older couples ventures North for the holiday with their foster children.  This year there are five of them.  Over the last fifteen years, a myriad of young faces have come and gone through the lodge but the expression on each of those faces, I’m sure, is the same.  It is the look of hope.  The joy and sense of togetherness they feel, on this weekend in particular, hopefully renews their faith in family.

There have been so many stories told of what these poor children have endured throughout their young lives.  These foster children are survivors of terrible atrocities that no human, much less a child, should ever have to experience.  With the love of their foster parents, these children are given a chance to, not only succeed but, be part of a family tradition that they may never have experienced in their troubled past.

Selfishly throughout my life I have silently thanked God for the bounty we are about to receive, having never given any thought to what I really should be thankful for but my perspective has been altered.  This Thanksgiving I am thankful for people like Marilyn and Fred – people who open their homes and their hearts to give a child a second chance for a life full of love and family.

This will be one of my most memorable Thanksgiving weekends and I look forward to seeing that same look of hope on some new faces next year.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

The lazy, hazy days of summer

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The first of September is tomorrow which can only signify one thing – summer is coming to a close and the long weekend has arrived.  I find sad irony in the term long weekend – the only people who truly find it long are the people who work on those weekends.  For the people who reap the benefit of being able to enjoy that three-day holiday, the time sails by and the weekend seems much shorter than it should.

I am one of those people who works the whole weekend, but at the end of that three-day craziness lies the light at the end of my sanity tunnel.  The days that travel by in a whirlwind slow their pace and I can reconnect with the long-lost principle of spare time.   The thing I honestly miss the most are the hours that are set aside for writing and reading blogs.  I feel a part of me has been missing and I feel a strained connection with my blogging friends.

In a few short days (who’s counting?  Oh, right….I am) I will be able to snuggle up on the couch, wine in hand, and lose myself in the words that have eluded me over the past few months.  I miss the humor, I miss the satire and I just miss the words.

I apologize to all of you who are enjoying your long weekend, but bring on Tuesday!!

A Broken Heart

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There are three things I know about a broken heart.  The first is it will heal.  The second is it will heal.  The third is it will heal.

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Written for the weekend Trifextra challenge:  This weekend we are asking you to play around with the following quote:

Three things in human life are important. The first is to be kind. The second is to be kind. And the third is to be kind. –Henry James

We want you to follow the same general structure of the above quote.  Feel free to change the subject–tell us what’s important about coffee or houseplants or whatever you’d like.  Or else change up the modifier–instead of telling us what’s important, tell us what’s sexy or overrated or pernicious.  Your last three lines should closely echo James’s, giving us the same answer three times. – See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.7JTIHbF7.dpuf

Summer – Trifextra challenge

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Sun kisses clouds and warms everything it touches.  Skin burns, lakes soothe and breezes quell the heat.  Laughter echoes, bonfires burn and families make memories.  I watch from inside.  I work in hospitality.

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Written for the weekend Trifecta challenge – Summer, to us, is both complicated and uncomplicated. Intricate travel itineraries and kicked-off sandals with sand still clinging to the soles. Carefree cloud-gazing days spent lying beside one body of water or another and big money spent on childcare and amusement parks. It means leaving home or coming home. This weekend we’re asking you to describe summer in your own words. Thirty-three of them exactly, of course. Good luck!

Santa’s not real?

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The Daily Prompt today is this – The Tooth Fairy (or Easter Bunny, or Santa Claus . . .) : a fun and harmless fiction, or a pointless justification for lying to children?

Some of my fondest childhood memories involved these mystical creatures.  There was an untainted enjoyment and a childlike sense of wonder that reality had not yet jaded.

I can certainly remember being horrified when my big brother dashed my illusory beliefs in these magical beings, but I didn’t hold any ill-will towards my parents for “lying” to me about their existence.  My childhood was kept childlike because of that continued facade.

I think of how my impressionable years would have been corrupted with reality and my imagination would have been stifled had I known the truth.  Believing in those fictitious characters allowed my creativity to plant a seed that continued to grow.  Even after I was told these creatures did not exist in physical bodies, the spirit they embrace remains the same.

Would I have wanted to grow up knowing the truth?  No way.  Those make-believe characters are still as much a part of my heart today as they were when I was a kid.  See you at Christmas, Santa!

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(image courtesy of Google)

This one time, in Texas……

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I have lived in Ontario for most of my life, but in 1998 I moved to Halifax to live with my best friend Sandra. I got a job at a bakery and, with the low-level of pay that was minimum wage, struggled to make ends meet. There was nothing left at the end of a pay period to allow for much of a social life so the internet quickly became a great source of amusement. Back in those days, there was a social site called ICQ and I met a myriad number of people from all over the world. One fellow in particular captured my attention and we developed a friendship that seemed to plant the seed for a greater attraction.

We wrote poetry and song lyrics together and would spend countless hours on the phone talking and singing together while he played guitar. We knew we had to meet face to face. My best friend and I decided we would spend our vacation driving through the States and that Austin, TX would become a stop on our whirlwind tour.

The hours we spent in the car, although amusing, were long and arduous and we would find creative ways to keep each other awake. Sandra knew the steel trap that is my mind stored movie quotes ad nauseam and she would give me a quote and I would quote back from the same movie. She made the mistake of asking me to do some scenes from Arthur, with Dudley Moore, and I began with the introductory theme song and continued to do the movie almost in its entirety. The sign for Austin loomed ahead as I came to the end of my monologue and Sandra breathed a sigh of relief.

The meeting with Danny went extremely well and he was excited to take me to his work the next day. His excitement had a child-like enthusiasm as he toured me around the facility. There are some details that I don’t recall specifically, but he was trying to explain the weight of something and handed me a concrete block so I could comprehend the comparison. I picked up the block and immediately dropped it at my feet. Searing pain registered in one of my fingers and as I looked down at the block, a small scorpion scurried along the ground away from the block. Danny’s shock registered immediately and the color drained from his face. He knew I had been stung and hurried me inside and grabbed his pack of menthol cigarettes. He began chewing some of the tobacco and placed a wad of saliva soaked tobacco on my finger to draw out the poison.

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(Image courtesy of Google, but the resemblance is uncanny)

Hind sight being what it is, I should have gone to the hospital, but I’m here telling the tale so the worst never happened. I did spend an inordinate amount of time in a great deal of pain. My lips went numb for a few hours as the diluted poison surfed through my veins and my finger throbbed like a Fred Flintstone toe after being crushed by a boulder. Danny trapped the little bastard that assaulted my digits and after a few minutes of shaking the glass jar that was his tomb, the scorpion committed his own form of Hari Kari by piercing his own skull with his poisonous barb. Although I did feel a small amount of satisfaction watching the life ebb from his crunchy little outer shell, it didn’t alleviate any of the pain.

We said goodbye to Danny and to Texas. Our journey continued and we made more pleasant memories in New Orleans, South Carolina, and enjoyed the pain-free remainder of our vacation as we made our way up the picturesque Eastern Seaboard and crossed the border back into Canada.

Things didn’t work out with Danny. He couldn’t understand my vehement objection when he asked if I would move to Texas. I’m sure I stared at the tip of my violated finger as I broke the news to him. I’ll take mosquitos and black flies any day. Scorpions?  No thank you.

What is the strangest thing that has happened to you?

Love Actually ~ Valentine edition

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There seems to be a common theme throughout the blogosphere surrounding the celebration of Valentine’s Day.  And until I re-read my thoughts and deleted the 500 +  words I had written on the subject of the commercialism of the day I would have written an entire post about the monetary veil that looms over this auspicious holiday.  But something changed.  The words I had composed left a bitter taste in my mouth and what I had written felt inappropriate in relation to the manifestation of my tumultuous emotions.

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(image courtesy of Google)

Don’t get me wrong…..I don’t hate Valentine’s Day. I, like so many of you, don’t believe in the hype of all the industry propagation that surrounds it.  Candy manufacturers and card makers jump at the chance to cover their windows with hearts and arrows to remind people to spend, spend, spend for their loved ones and money is discarded on items littered with hearts and oozing with sentiment written by the prolific writing staff at Hallmark.

In a moment of what can only be described as lucidity, I realized that there are many people walking the face of this planet who are unable to show their emotion as easily as I do.  There are many who do not feel as comfortable with the phrase ‘I love you’ and cannot utter it as often as they feel it is deserved and wanted.  In that moment, I understood that Valentine’s Day may be the one day that they can express their love through cards and flowers.  They are able to show the love they feel on a daily basis but are unable to articulate as often as they would like.  After years of being disgusted by the store displays enticing people to spend money, I got it.   Maybe the cards and candy hearts are the only way some can divulge their feelings without suffering the spontaneous embarrassment or discomfort of uttering those three words aloud.  Because I feel so comfortable sharing the emotion I have, it never dawned on me that others do not share that luxury and perhaps this day is their moment to shine.

Many people I know are far more fortunate and have displays of love bestowed on them quite frequently.  Ironically, Valentine’s Day is hijacked by those fortunate souls and held hostage with threats if they are not bathed in ornate displays of store-bought compensation.  They reside on a pedestal, but still hold their partner accountable for lavish gifts and dinner, negating the fact that they see more affection in a year than others are only privy to on a day that comes once a year.

I was watching Anderson Cooper last night and his co-host told a story that brought me to tears.  She read on the internet about a woman from Houston, TX who had been married for 46 years had always received a bouquet of flowers from her husband with a card that simply read “My love for you grows”.  Her husband passed  away and the following Valentine’s Day, the first one she would spend alone, she received a bouquet of flowers.  She was angry at first and called the florist to ask about the delivery and was told her husband had prepaid for that same bouquet to be delivered on Valentine’s Day for several years to come.  When she opened the card it read “My love for you is eternal”.  (yes, I’m crying)

Maybe I’m getting older, maybe I’m getting wiser or perhaps I had that moment where the lightbulb finally shone brighter than it ever has in regards to Valentine’s Day.  Whatever the case may be, these words from Henry David Thoreau ring true today ~ It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.

Happy Valentine’s Day to all of the people in my life.  Whether in person or in words, you all inspire me.