The Snowlady

I just came back from an afternoon walk; we are experiencing a mild winter thus far, making the time outdoors more pleasurable. The city has also been good this year at removing the snow and applying salt.

Yesterday, I restarted my exercise routine after several weeks of having abandoned my elliptical and weights for other forms of activity, not all related to staying in shape.

As a child I don’t recall ever having built a snowman, therefore a few weeks ago I decided to make one, actually, a “snowlady”. Did I have fun doing it? Absolutely NOT! How could I? By the age of ten I wanted to be a grown up, make my own decisions.

I was having a phone conversation with my youngest daughter about how mental/spiritual and physical health are connected, how your physical health can be compromised when living a life you feel does not belong to you. It’s since age 54 that I began to actually take control of my life and make it mine. Ironic, how it took 44 years. So many opportunities were within my reach back then but I did not seize them. Why? Because of what I was conditioned to believe and my fear!

The old adage,” It’s never too late” is true. Working towards a more authentic life, one more suited to who you are and your own values, is possible. Although, the missed opportunities remain missed, new ones do come along.


Christmas During the Time of Covid

The Christmas holidays have come and gone. I saw my eldest daughter and her family briefly when I dropped off their Christmas gifts. Later, through video chat they opened the gifts. I was grateful to have at least spent them with my widowed daughter and her two young children but my EX was not so lucky because of our Covid restrictions.

My youngest grandchildren were so enthralled by the magic of Christmas; it was infectious. I savored every moment with them. We did our best to make their holidays special so that one day they could look back with fond memories of “Christmas during the Time of Covid”.

2021 begins with my yearly mammogram and breast ultrasound. Frankly, as the years go by, it hurts less. My breasts must be losing all their elasticity and becoming two droopy weights hanging from my chest. But I’m not complaining. At least I have breasts, even though I have a one is reconstructed with no nipple.

With every New Year comes resolutions but this time I decided not to make any concrete tangible ones. Instead, I want to look back on the events of the past year and reflect on which experiences I wouldn’t want to repeat but acknowledge them as part of my spiritual/emotional growth. Basically, what I’m trying to say is, setting goals is important and resolutions are well intentioned goals however many times they are not met, for various reasons. Even if the reasons are justifiable we are left feeling disappointed.

Happy New Year to all my readers!

Your comments are always appreciated.

The Tangled Cord

On Wednesday I completed the extensive review of my storage bins’ contents. The “give away” items have been brought to the goodwill depot, the recycling bin has been filled with its acceptable discarded items, the old paint cans have been brought to my local hardware store, and two large garbage bags have been put at the curb for pick up. I shredded so much paper that my home shredder died on me! However, that did not stop me from going through the remaining documents. I immediately ordered another shredder on Amazon. In the meantime I filled up a 12 foot cubic bin, to the brim, with discarded statements, etc., waiting to be shredded.

I take some pleasure going through my items at least once a year and discarding what is no longer useful or pertinent. It feels like a beneficial workout for my mind and soul. With every item there is a memory attached and it brings forth an emotion, if not a few. It’s this/these  emotion(s) that determine(s) whether the item stays or goes. When performing the triage I feel a sense of control and satisfaction, my breathing is more relaxed, as if an invisible tangled CORD around my neck was becoming undone.

Two years ago I had an urge to burn all the letters my ex husband and I exchanged when we were engaged. He lived in another country; long distance calls were very expensive and e mail technology did not exist in 1977/78. I had re read all these shortly after our separation many years ago but the time had come to physically destroy them. I felt shredding would not give me the closure needed, instead, I put logs in the hearth of the fireplace and lit a fire. Seeing each letter burn one by one, its edges curling shriveling to mere ashes was the start of my healing process.

My next task is to pour over the photos accumulated over the years. I have so many printed photos as do the many people of my generation (before the digital age). Luckily they are already in photo albums properly dated but just too many!! This clean up will be more difficult. Many feelings and memories will be evoked.

My motivation for these yearly clean ups is driven by my symbolic CORD:

Cleanse false attachments; Organize; Reduce clutter;
Downsize/Death, the burden of cleaning up in a short time frame can be very overwhelming to say the least for me and/or my children.

My ultimate goal is to keep only what I need, use, and love enough to display or cherish. What is the purpose of storing objects that no longer serve or may be forgotten.

Note to readers: when I first started to blog 2 years ago it was to be about my new life as a SINGLE older woman and my adventures. In the last 9 months because of the Covid 19 pandemic, my social life and all that it encompassed has changed greatly. My writings now reflect my current daily activities which bring to light my state of mind.

The Caricature of My Family

Caricature of my family drawn by a Quebec City street artist, 1995

This past Sunday I put out my Christmas decorations, the same ones I’ve had for at least 15 years. A few years ago I gave away my Christmas tree and replaced it with a mini pre decorated tree purchased from Costco.

As time passes, there is a need to simplify, in all aspects of my life. Therefore, this week I decided to rummage through my storage bins first going through all the Christmas stuff I no longer wish to use. That done, I went to the souvenir bins, slowly looking at the contents and remembering their significance. I found a cylinder containing a drawing. It was a caricature of myself with my then husband and teenage daughters, taken in Quebec City, Canada in 1995, the latter part of the 20th century! For a fraction of a second my initial reaction was sadness, for a family broken by divorce, but then taking a closer look at the drawing my sadness turned into laughter. Firstly, the caricatures did not resemble us. But what was humorous, was where he positioned me in the sketch. The setting is a pool. My ex husband is between our two teenage daughters. On the left, my eldest’s little body is in a dive position, the youngest, on the right, is perched on a stool and my ex is in bermudas with a drink in his hand, his posterior facing my head. I on the other hand, am lying at the BOTTOM of the pool with only the top of my head and eyes above the water.

The above scene is humorous not because of how he interpreted our faces but rather how he captured us as a family. My eldest, ready to dive, describes her nature, a go-getter. My youngest, a more layed back personality, is shown sitting. As for my ex, he’s the king, holding his cocktail with his posterior pointing towards his wife, “moi”, who is almost fully engulfed by the water. The disconnection between us is so obvious.

Perhaps my reaction to what I saw in the drawing was not only sadness and amusement but something deeper. A feeling of being in a good place and with a healthy sense of humour. But most of all, finally accepting the revised version of “My Family”.

Friends Lost

Twenty three years ago today I moved into my dream house. It remained my home even after the divorce and continues to be my current residence. It may be too big for a single person but for me, it truly is my shelter and refuge. My grandchildren love this home too and that is important to me. It’s the only home they associate their Nana with. This house has seen my life unfold in ways I could never have imagined at the time. The move was a turning point and I didn’t know it.

One of the changes that occurred shortly after moving in was the start of a new friendship with my next door neighbors, who were in the same stages of life as my husband and I. We became close, spending many evenings together. Then 6 years ago my neighbor, the wife, passed away from an aggressive cancer. I was divorced by then. Her husband now a widower and I a divorcee continued to be friends. That all changed when he started a serious relationship with a woman. His girlfriend felt threatened by our friendship. Overnight we went from friends to cordial neighbors. Another neighbor also a divorcee who was part of my life and I of hers over the past 12 years drifted apart once she got into a relationship with a man 18 months ago. This month she sold her home and I doubt there will be much contact after she leaves.

These two neighbors both distanced themselves after entering in a relationship with new partners. But friendships dissolve for other reasons too. I let go of some friends that have been in my life for some time but not for the same reason. There are certain friends I no longer feel a connection to. The pre-Covid life distractions are not there to deter me or confuse me; I can see clearer. For now my joy comes from living in the moment, working on my crochet projects, writing, but what lights up my heart is seeing the love in my grandchildren’s eyes, their curiosity and enthusiasm.

Friends come and go. Life has a way of putting people on your path for a reason and when they’ve served their purpose they are gone.

P.S. to all my followers on Facebook I ask you to join my blog site by clicking on “follow”. You will be notified by email everytime I post. Thanks.


Where did the summer go? It was a scorcher; only pleasant if you could spend it by the pool.

The latter half of the summer was spent indoors due to extreme fatigue, loss of appetite and an occasional fever. The symptoms first appeared in early August. I was tested twice for COVID-19. Those tests came back negative. After numerous blood tests, an abdominal ultrasound and MRI, I was finally diagnosed with Cytomegalovirus. Naturally, at the time I was worried, especially after the blood work showed some alarming results.

I entered the Autumn season with a sense of peacefulness and serenity. This summer gave me alot to think about. It helped me evaluate my relationships and clear some fog. In so doing, I finally learned not to take upsetting interactions personally. Its not because I care less, rather I realized that people are deflecting or projecting their fears and insecurities unto others.

Sometimes we need an illness or a certain discomfort to bring about profound changes to our perceptions on life and the human psyche.

Oh Oh, Is It Covid?

On Friday, July 17, my father passed away from cancer after spending one month in Palliative Care at the local hospital. The day the decision was made to send him there was an emotional one for my 2 sisters and I. My father had deteriorated rapidly in the days preceding his hospitalization. He needed professional care now. The viewing and the  funeral were done all in one day. It was small and intimate.  Throughout the service, I could not stop crying, not even during the reading of the Eulogy I composed the night before. You see, crying does not come easy for me.

Much of the summer has gone by and to date I have not been out on any outings except for one dinner invitation from my friend M, to view her newly purchased and renovated Condo in a scenic area of town. Despite the delays in her renovations, due to the Covid shut down, she was able to move in at the end of June. The hors d’oeuvres were served on the terrace while catching up, taking in the city view and enjoying a glass of wine. We moved indoors for the meal. She’s a fine cook.

I’ve had family and friends over on a few occasions but no other social outings, mostly due to the lack of invitations. My circle of friends were occupied with one thing or another.

For the past 10 days I’ve been fatigued and experienced a fever. Yesterday I went to get tested for Covid, now I’m in temporary quarantine until the results come in.

I’ll keep you posted! 😊

Simple Pleasures

With the gradual de-confinement of the past few weeks, it’s finally time to start getting back to a semblance of normal activity.

Yesterday, I made the decision to go purchase some lovely flowers for my garden urns. I then called my widowed daughter to ask if she wanted some help with the kids and would she like that I bring over some sausages to grill on the BBQ. Needless to say, the answer was “yes”, to both.

After picking up the flowers, the grocery store was next. Luckily for me, there was no line outside. I put on my selfmade mask and began shopping. I actually enjoyed it!

I feel alive again! Isn’t it remarkable how something I considered mundane has now  become pleasant, even with all the precautions needed during this global pandemic.

Why is it usually when something is taken away, that we can truly begin to know its worth? If we can always keep this life lesson in mind, perhaps we would complain less and practice “Gratitude”, more. Wouldn’t we, as human beings, be happier?

The Gazebo

With the gradual de-confinement, I have once again began to socialize; speaking on the phone or video chatting, is not my preferred choice. I like “in person” interaction.

Luckily, since the acquisition of my Gazebo, last summer I’ve been able to host my friends in its space starting last week; not more than 2 friends at a time. It is a closed structure and can protect us from the elements while air flows easily through the screened windows surrounding the Gazebo, making it safe during this time of Covid. It is big enough to keep the required 6 ft. distance. When its chilly, blankets keep us warm and cozy.

Last week, Maia came by and we had supper together but the evening ended early. Maia had been in the hot sun most of the day and was feeling its effect. Time spent with her is usually quiet and relaxing, “just chilling” is the expression used by the younger population.

This weekend my friend C—- came by mid-afternoon and stayed for dinner. We had so much to catch up on. With her demanding job and ailing Mother C—‘s busy schedule doesn’t give her much time to socialize. Getting together is always a pleasure.

Yesterday M—- and her friend A—- came by, in the afternoon. We opened a bottle of Prosecco and toasted to new beginnings. M— recently sold her home and is moving into a Condo. A—-, recently moved into a new Condo to be closer to her son and I renovated my back yard, last year. During the course of the evening, the conversation flowed, like the wine, LOL!! We did “take out” and ended the evening with a warm cup of coffee and my homemade Italian bread cake.

It felt good to have a semblance of normalcy, even though the little bottles of sanitizer sitting on the serving tray were there to remind us of the uncertain times we are currently living.

The Freedom of Self-Isolation

I’ve been in my quiet bubble of self isolation and have not posted for some time.

I’m relishing this time to do whatever I want, at the time I want, without any outside distractions. It feels euphoric!

This week,I directed my attention to making different styles of cloth masks. There are so many “how to” videos; it was hard to decide which ones to choose.

I made 4 versions, using items I had at home,( see below); Its amazing how creative one gets when working with limited resources.

The bottom 2 were the easiest to make.

On another note, like many women, my gray hair growth is visible. My nails are short and unpolished. I’m taking a breather from all these chemicals, like our beautiful planet Earth. In the last 6 weeks, we have greatly reduced our carbon footprint.

I’ve actually lost some weight by eating home cooked meals and drinking less wine. This makes me very happy, LOL!!

With warmer weather around the corner I’m looking forward to start my gardening. My Gazebo, has been “spring cleaned” and is ready for me to enjoy. Maybe, I’ll be motivated to resume writing my book.