Wednesday, February 6, 2013

It's the February blues....

It’s grey and overcast and typical of living on the west coast of Canada.  You would think this homespun girl would be use to this weather, but there are days it brings me down to unspeakable depths.

Often, I will watch back to back episodes of the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills admittedly not for the content but to see the blue sky, green grass, sparkling ocean and to visualize that warmth upon my own winter dried skin.  The ocean rocking at my doorstep at the moment is stormy and dark and brooding, much like my own personality as of late.

I have been living under a cloud of thoughts and a bit of sadness over giving up an ideal dream of mine, of his, of ours. Compounding upon this is the visual out my window of our own version of 50 shades of grey, in the true literal sense.

This sadness will pass, most assuredly. It always does. In the meantime, the only thing that brings a smile to my face is this ridiculous distraction of the ongoing flatulence feud between myself and my better half in our somewhat foul home.  Imagine many cans of beans and a woman who is just as determined as the man she lives with in getting even.  Ahhh, I see the realization donning upon your face.  Yes, it isn’t pretty.

And even though today is one of those days that feels all shot to hell, I do know that my colon is clean as a whistle, so I suppose in the greater scheme of things, that is a positive upshot.

And the fact that my dog was nearly gassed to death under our bed sheets last night is a positive indication that I may undoubtedly be winning this gas war.

Yes, I know disgusting, but every now and then a girl struck down with sads really needs a good laugh, even if it is at the expense of her poor little dog.

Besides, this girl.... has got to do what this girl can, to dig herself out of the February blues.

Until Next Time,


Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Slipping Away into the Winter's light...

I am tired.

And I have not been here for so long.

The sounds and the sights swirl around me, twisting, encompassing and embracing.

And I am tired.

I look over to the calendar and see that time has passed me by.  Where did it go?  Responsibilities are heavy, surgery on my mother, wedding preparations, work deadlines, the photography site and my old friend chronic pain has returned with a vengeance.

And I am tired.

I stand gazing out the window enjoying the winter scene as Father Frost has kissed the bare stricken branches and softly layered creamy ice over the glossy ponds where geese and swans once resided only a few short weeks ago.  Or was that a few months ago?  I can no longer recall.

And I am tired.

The church across from me sits idle with it's majestic cobalt blue doors silently waiting.  Tis a beautiful sight with it's snow frosted roof and it's empty pews beckoning for Christmas Eve when it will be full of life.

And I am tired.

I hear on the radio that hauntingly beautiful song for a winters night.  It makes me melancholy and I sigh and take a few moments of solace but then snap back to reality as work is frantically busy and I do not have the time to waste as everybody wants resolution to their matters now.

And I am tired.

Christmas is upon us and I had to do everything in October and November that one does in December for preparation of my mother's recent surgery and it is the last month of the season and I still have yet to recover from all the frenzy.

And I am tired.

I miss this place.  This place to write and read and connect with like minds.  I miss it so much, but I can scarcely breathe and am surviving on three hours sleep a night.

And I am tired.

I take a few moments to jot down my thoughts and watch thru my office window as daylight fades to a soft sweet hazy grey.  And in that brief moment, I close my eyes and dream while I quietly slip away into the winter's light hoping for just a few moments of respite.

But even at that, I am still unfortunately tired...

I miss you all.  I think of you often and I hope you and your family are well.  

I wish you a lovely and peaceful Christmas surrounded by those that fill your heart with joy.

Be safe.

Until Next Time.


Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Learning baby steps in the art of self promotion...

Have you ever met someone with the capabilities of self promotion.  They win people over with their smile, their charm, their charisma, their confidence, no matter how kooky their latest idea is?  Well that person most certainly isn't me.

I was thinking about it the other day as I launched my new website and subsequently my new facebook page.  Admittedly, I do not come across shy or self conscious, but if the truth be known, I really am. Nervous and bashful with respect to my latest endeavour, I have found that trying to sell myself is one of my biggest hurdles and fears.  I suppose it has to do with the fact that I am passionate about photography and letting others to view what I have done has made me feel a tad self conscious and for lack of a better word, raw.  I feel exposed to the possibility of rejection. And what's more is I worry about becoming a nuisance in their facebook newsfeed. 

Rejection has never been my strong point and I have never been one to let things just roll off my back easily.  An analyzer since the day I was born, I have spent countless hours in my lifetime wondering why this person did not like this or why this person did not like that and what could I have done differently.  Hours, unfortunately, I will never get back.

There is just something about self promotion that has the ability to expose you to all sorts of hurtful elements and I know that a thick skin is required to survive.  But I often wonder if my proverbial skin is thick enough.

To be honest, in my perfect world, I would just yell, "like me!  like me!  like me damnit!!!" and of course, everyone would stampede and just sign up on the crazy Tracy train without question.  But in reality, self promotion really is an art, and not being upset by rejection, is an amazing gift.

I long for the day that my flesh is thick due to strength and not the poundage that surrounds my bones.  

So, in the spirit of trying to gain a thicker skin and the ability to learn how to promote oneself, today I am sharing my facebook photography page.... YIKES!

Here is where you can find me most days:  thru her eyes photography.

I am sure tooting my horn (rather than my bum) will eventually come naturally to me. However, in the meantime, I suppose, it's just all about learning the baby steps in the art of self promotion.

Until Next Time.


Monday, August 13, 2012

Fresh as a daisy...

I am humming to myself that song, you know the one, "where have all the flowers gone, long time passing, where have all the flowers gone, long time ago". I cannot even guarantee those are the right words, and am bit too lazy to google it, and then too boot, I am substituting the word "flowers" with the word "bloggers". 

I am starting to notice an uneasy trend here in blogland, that being one by one, the original bloggers that I followed are slowly and surely dropping off the face of blogosphere.  And, I often wonder if I am not too far behind.

It was funny because just as I was contemplating if my time was up here as well, I read a comment from Chris at Tilting at Windmills. He wrote on Bouncin Barb's blog as she bid her final adieu, the following words verbatim: "A lot of people blog to releave life stress- and when the stress eases, it's a time taker they no longer need. Go forth, enjoy life."

I stared at his words for such a long time as they resonated deeply within me.  

I had started my blog, as you well know, because I was in an unhappy place in my life and I was deep into soul searching, grasping at loose ends and trying with all my heart to find joy.  I was lost and needed a place to let my words flow.  Spilling them out into the blogosphere was so much more rewarding then spilling tears constantly down my already soggy and mascara-smudged face.

I garnered a lot from blogging, new friends, new opinions, some ego stroking, confidence building, gratitude, enjoyment and mostly relief.  Blogging had always been a special place where I really felt comfortable in bearing my soul with no worries of repercussions and no judgments tossed.  As a blogger, I had lost all sense of decorum and had absolutely no problem whatsoever sharing with the world my life of flatulence, wedgie wars, saggy boobs, hair growth and dimply asses.  By the way, nothing seems to have changed in those areas of my life!

But as time went on and my happiness started to soar and I felt myself hit my stride, I started to wander away from here more and more.  And then when I would come back, I felt that myself and my blog were fast becoming archaic. Simply said, I think my writing was at its most prolific when I was in my greatest amount of pain. 

My joy is now into creating things, like the following photo of mine, wherein I superimposed two of my pictures together to create the following:

Now it would seem, that I have been left with a bit of a conundrum.  In pain, I enjoy my writing, and in happiness, I enjoy my photography.

So where does that leave my blog and I?

Well I am not ready to throw in the proverbial towel so to speak, but I am ready to start a new chapter in my writing.  One that is more uplifting, less heavy with a heaping side of carefree...

So I am, in a sense, saying goodbye to the old Average Girl and the old look of the blog.  She's been there and done her time and now needs to be retired.  Because, in all honesty, this Average Girl has long since changed. She no longer needs to be up at the top of the page dressed in hot pink looking a bit bored and uninterested.  She doesn't need her blog to be doused in heavy colours of oppressing fuschia and black.

She feels light and happy and wishes to reflect that in all aspects of her life, including this blog page. What does that mean for my writing?  Well, I have no idea.  I suppose it will be an adventure to see what spills out of a less pain filled Average Girl. In fact, it may mean more happy writing, and even perhaps a tad to sappy at times.  One thing for sure is that this Average Girl is feeling downright joyful.  One could even say, that his Average Girl is, for lack of a better phrase, fresh as a daisy (hence the new look!)

Until Next Time.


Wednesday, August 1, 2012

The closing of a door....

Today marks sixty short days until the end of my happiness.  Well, the end of my 500 days of happiness that is.

I started the facebook page in the hopes of finding myself.  I was loosing a battle to the chronic pain I felt and it was encompassing every aspect of my life.  I was no longer enjoying my life or enjoying me.  I had somehow lost myself to some autoimmune disease that was creeping through my joints and dictating my every move.  And I was tired of it.

It wasn't and hasn't been an easy road, in fact, it's been a downright bumpy ride, and somewhere along the way, I have had my breaks from it where I have relied on a few friends to take over so that I could gather my courage to go on.

You would think that finding something every day that makes you happy would be an easy feat.  You would be wrong.  The first week into it, my reservations crept in and I had this moment where I thought to myself "what have I gotten myself into".  Followed by "I can't do this".  Followed by the fear of looking like a failure if I shut down the page early with the feeling that the odd person would be snickering in the background with those horrible words "I knew she couldn't do it".  The fear of being the town idiot kept me going for the those first few months. I strained under the glare of a meager few who followed the page waiting for what I would come up with next.  Mornings of waking up in extreme bouts of pain were the hardest.  Those were the days I wanted to shout from the roof top "I'M NOT HAPPY GODDAMMIT!!!"  Those were the days that I had to dig deep and look beyond what I was feeling.  Those were horrible and enlightening days where I struggled with the fact that happiness, if I was lucky, was only oozing from perhaps my baby toe.  Those were the days where I wondered if I was just a fraud.  Where I wondered if what I just typed actually did make me happy.  Where I wondered if I would really ever find my true happiness.  Mostly, I wondered if succumbing to the pain was just so much easier.  Those were definitely the days that the proverbial towel was tightly in my hand and I was ready to throw it in.

Months would go by, people would come on and off my page like flies to honey.  I would take it personally, as if they were saying to me "you fake, there is nothing happy about you... what a bunch of BS."  Even now the following is very small by all accounts, but those who have remained have been very loyal, encouraging and vocal and their participation has made my heart soar.

And as the months dragged on, I started to notice a trend. Bit by bit, I was no longer having to search for the elusive happiness.  I was actually having moments of happiness. And then one day it just happened, and I can't explain it, but I just woke up feeling good, and somewhere along the line during this incredible process, I stopped needing to look for happiness.  I no longer had to dig deep into my heart to find that one special, plausible moment because I could see it all around. Happiness was just there, in everything, I only had to uncloud my vision to recognize it.

This process that so seemed like a chore in the beginning had become one of the best things I had and have ever done for myself.  And in the last few months. it has been unbelievably easy to find what makes me tick. It just bubbles from within. And while I still have moment where I often worry that it is a very delicate bubble around me that could pop at any moment, I have noticed that the power of happiness had always resided in me and was just waiting to come out and play.  And while I still have pain, it is much to a lesser extent now. I  no longer let it live in the forefront of my life. I have placed it in the shadows where it could not grow.  And instead, I placed my love of life in the sun where it could blossom and stretch and encompass me fully.

And while the door is slowly closing to my 500 days of happiness, I have definitely made sure that I threw the window wide open, so like with fresh air, happiness could always and freely float into my life.

Until Next Time.


Wednesday, July 18, 2012

What took me so long!!!!

This is not so much a blog post as it is an update.

I am sorry I have been missing in action a lot this year.

This has been one of the best years I have had in a long time.  And I was almost afraid to post that, you know.  Worried about the fates, but life is what life is and happiness seems to be spilling from every pore on my body.

Changes have been all around me, some have been losses, like my grandmother and my beloved Maggie Mae.  Others have been uplifting, like Italy and feeling relatively normal with little pain.  Others have brought me so much joy, that I can barely contain myself, like going forward with my photography and renovating my house.  Still others have been about deeper connections with friends and family and realizing that this silly wall that was around me, was nothing more than a useless piece of crap.

And the most surprising of all my changes, is actually me.  I feel happy, like really happy!  At 44, I have finally become comfortable in my own skin and what is more fantastical is that I have finally found my stride, my place, my reason and mostly my joy!

I don't feel like the woman I was a year ago. 

I don't know what has happened, or maybe I do, I have finally accepted me for me, got on with life, stepped out my own self imposed confines, dug deep to find my confidence and plowed ahead.

And you know what is next on my roster?

Well I am going to try and open an online shop for my photo cards and calendars, although I still have that niggly thought of "are they good enough" but I keep being virtually slapped around by so many unbelievably supportive friends, that I am just going to take the chance.

One of my recent photo commissions!
And secondly, well I have finally decided that next year, which marks my 10th year with my better half, is the year that this Average Girl, is going to take the plunge and walk down the aisle and say I DO at the top of my lungs to that good looking better half of mine!!!

Me in a year, only far more chunkier!!!
Yup, head first into a free fall is where I am going and I have to tell you that sky diving into the unknown is bringing up the most beautiful scenery ever!  And you know what I have to say about that: Good lord, what took me so long!

Until Next Time.



Monday, June 25, 2012

Finding Tracy

Snuggled deep within my comforter, I could feel the warmth of the morning sun lightly touching my face urging me to awake and embrace it’s lovely light. It’s honey tone hues were bouncing magically throughout my bedroom casting an ethereal glow all around me and I finally succumbed to its beckoning.

My better half had long since left for his Saturday shift at work, and my little pooch was sitting idly by the bed thumping his happy tail waiting for the moment his lazy mother would emerge to give him that much needed love that he craved each and every morning.

With a pitter patter of my feet on the cold hardwood floors, I wandered my way down to the living room and threw open the blinds to embrace the morning light. There in all its glory was life, simple and ample in my garden. From insects on their daily breakfast quest, to dragonflies swooping in and out of my bird bath, to hummingbirds diving at each other in a power struggle over the abundance of nectar that oozed from every corner of my flower filled yard.

I felt a peaceful solitude awash over me and in my never ending craziness of romanticizing every moment of my life, I slipped a pair of shoes on and wandered out amongst my garden and stood beneath the vibrancy of my purple locust trees and closed my eyes.

With my senses heightened, I let nature take over and for a mere moment, I felt the faint vibration and reverberation of a hummingbird’s wing not far from my face, I inhaled the sweet scent of the very last of my honeysuckle as it filled my senses with an inexplicable nostalgia whilst the perfumed cool air of the lingering lavender made me yawn uncontrollably out loud for all ears to hear.

I slowly opened my eyes and absorbed the beautiful brilliancy surrounding me, kicked off my shoes and sunk my feet into the cold wet earth and walked across the dew ridden grass and let out a long deep sigh. As I looked up into the vast blueness of the mid morning sky, I knew at that moment I was finally experiencing joy within my happiness. And for the first time in many many years, I realized that I had finally found Tracy.

Until Next Time.


Tuesday, June 19, 2012


It’s hard to believe that a year ago I was wandering aimlessly around my neighbourhood screeching, calling, sobbing and searching for my Passion. I pleaded for her return and spent countless hours nailing up posters all around the town with a reward if found. The only things that contacted me were Self Dwelling, Self Indulgence and Self Serving whom happily offered to become a permanent part of my life, and all of which I luckily had turned down. Passion you see, had skipped town, and rightfully so. She had tired of me and my lacklustre shine and found another more worthy of her gifts.

I was at a loss and I had become lost. Without her, I was just a shell of a former girl I once knew as Tracy.

I had all but given up on Passion and found myself at a quandary and crossroads in life drinking my sorrows away with yet another whipped cream-filled hot chocolate, that was heavy on the whipped cream, light on the actual drink. I sat there one day sobbing over Passion when I came to the realization that I could continue to sit on my beaten up, dog smelling and man farting couch eating day old soggy-in-butter popcorn, or I could get off my lily white, cellulite stricken ass and do something about it! I have to tell you that I had a mere moment where sitting among fart smelling cushions at one point seemed like a viable option. Thankfully, I picked the latter.

It started in January with a simple art course, that I sucked at, followed by intense walking to get my legs in shape for Italy, followed by taking a zillion photos, followed by friends telling me to do something with them, followed by my mother kicking me and my rather large ass straight into being juried before a selection committee, and finally, being accepted into an art exhibition!

And here I am today, a year later, a year happier, a year of new experiences, a year more adventurous, and a few days away from putting myself and my photographs out there to be judged. And somewhere along the way, I have grown. I have finally accepted that I am much more than that Average Girl who started this blog two years and two months ago. My life isn’t average, it never was. It was just missing joy. And perhaps excitement. Definitely adventure and confidence. But mostly passion.

And you know what, it doesn’t really matter what Friday brings to me at the art exhibition. The only thing that matter is:

that thankfully, my beloved passion was found.

Until Next Time.


Monday, June 4, 2012

In her honour....

This past Saturday marked my grandmother’s 97th birthday and also the day we laid her to rest.

I stood there under the grey overcast sky with my family in the drizzling rain watching as MY mother read her tribute to HER mother. Gazing off in the distance in attempt to hold off the tears, I flicked my eyes in time to witness my brother laying her and my grandfather’s joint urn in the lovely marbled niche that was surrounded by a pond and a rose garden.

My emotions were slightly eschewed. It had been four long years since my grandmother went to reside in what would be her last residence, a long term care facility. Angry and lashing out over her lack of independence, I would find my feelings wavering between empathy, sympathy and annoyance during this difficult period of her life.

Born in an era where a woman’s role was that of a homemaker, my grandmother was a standout above the rest. A tall blonde beauty with lanky legs that reached to the sky, she was a mixture of loyalty and jealousy and of athletic power and fragile undertones. She was a basketball star, a shuffle board champion and a bingo queen. She could camp, fish and drink with the best of them, and at the ripe old age of 96, she never left her room without her makeup on, her glorious golden hair coiffed, her body impeccably groomed to perfection and adorned by her love of sparkly jewelry. She was a force to be reckoned with, even then.

I would spend a large majority of my childhood resenting her obvious favouritism of my brother, and would later come to respect her as an adult when I realized that she was most definitely born in the wrong decade. She was a woman before her time.

As the years passed, and so did my grandfather, I watched my grandmother care for each of her ailing family members, until one by one they were gone and she too needed care that was beyond her own capabilities.

I would have moments where I would mourn for her as I watched her wings of independence be clipped and ravaged by father time. Other times, I would struggle with sadness as I observed her fighting to stave off waves of dementia. For me, it was like a horrible viewing of an independent animal being caged.

I would luckily make it home the day before she passed away. And on mother’s day of this year, I would have my last visit with her. She was in a deep, rhythmic slumber and I would stroke her face one more time and tell her that I loved her. She would pass away as I drove back home that night.

Sadly, we were at odds for most of my life, my grandmother and myself. And while we couldn’t be any more different, I did love her. I did admire her loyalty. I was awe struck by her feisty determination. But, mostly I loved it when she cussed me out. Those awesome words: “that damn kid messed up my hair”, will make me giggle till the day I die.

In the meantime, I went down to the jewelry store today, and I bought myself the biggest pair of sparkly earrings I could find. I did it for her you know. I did it for the strong, independent woman that was in my life for 44 years. Yes.. I most definitely did it for her. I did it in her honour.

Until Next Time.


Sunday, May 27, 2012

A dream fulfilled....

A door in Burano
© 2012 thru her eyes photography
Oh yes, I know its been awhile.

I am a bit pooped to be honest.

Italy, was the trip of a lifetime, with memories in abundance.  In three weeks, I can sum up this moment in my life as follows: we saw 17 cities and towns, logged in a mere 200 hours of walking or more, drank an entire lake of water, lost 8.5 pounds, came home with glowing skin, blonde blonde hair and a raging case of bronchitis and had the time of our lives.

I got over the fear of the seatless toilet, and found the foot pump to make water appear out of the taps. I ate a large amount of pasta, and warmed up to the idea of mini wienees being served at breakfast.  I came back broker than broke, but richer in my experiences.  I loved the amazing history that oozed from every corner of italy, but realized that the beauty in the vastness of Canada was just as appealing.

I longed to sea the Amalfi coast and was a bit disappointed, but entered into Rome with no expectations and was unbelievably surprised.

A view from Umbria
© 2012 thru her eyes photography
I saw images that only the great masters could have painted to capture the untouched beauty, along with enormous disappointments like Ikeas outside fairy-like medieval towns.  In one breath, I had a spiritual awakening in the town of Assisi, and in another, I wanted to bonk the residents on the head when they partied in the streets till the wee wee hours.

I enjoyed the corniness of sitting in a gondola and listening to the serenade of an opera singer in Venice, and cried when I saw Michelangelo's David in Florence.  I had a surreal moment in a 10th century castle in the hills of Tuscany, and a real moment among the gypsies walking the streets of Pisa. I wanted to pack my bags and permanently live in Sorrento, and then wanted to run for the high country when I saw Mt. Vesuvius spew out smoke.

A tuscan roadside
© 2012 thru her eyes photography
I was amused by all the gum on the walls at Juliets balcony in Verona, and then my heart ached while watching the different pigeons with deformed feet only a block away.

I was blown away by the colourfulness of the Island of Burano and felt repressed in the dark brooding walls of Siena.  I was caught up and drenched to the skin in a thunder and lightening storm on the hill top of San Gimignano, and sweated like a trucker from Wisconsin on the streets of Rome.

I felt myself soar in happiness from the overload on my senses and then had moments where I craved the comforts of home.

I got locked in the Rome airport bathroom in complete helplessness, and then in other instances, I had the most amazing Italians take me under their wing.

The people were warm and inviting, the art was an explosion to the senses, the food was simple and flavourful and the scenery was awe inspiring and breathtaking.

I was enraptured, enthralled and grateful.

It was................... a dream fulfilled.

A venetian waterway
© 2012 thru her eyes photography

Until Next Time