A WINTER'S KISS

Do you feel the soft quiet

hush of winter?

I do and it is so lovely!

This weekend I will be linking up with

Seasonal Sundays and thank the Tablescaper

for hosting same.

Happy Weekend to You.

Until Next Time.

Smooches Pooches

A WINTER'S DANCE

Old Man Winter has finally come to visit and leaving his gentle touch wherever he goes.  From various colours of grey painted skies, to frosting on our roofs, to the bows of trees sparkling with a web of silver, to his butterfly kisses across my face in the morning air.

And while I mock and tease those who are excited about the first snow, secretly I adore winter.  This season always invokes wonderful memories of my childhood past, from snow ball fights and snow angels, to creating paper snowflakes, to being surrounded in family.  Longings deep within my soul whirl around like fall leaves caught in a gust of wind.

The white old man reminds me of Christmases past and cherished family members that have long since left this earth.  He reminds me of my adored and much loved childhood dog and warm fires, Sundays in pajamas, homemade hot chocolate and baking with my mother.

My memories are vast and large and all encompassing, and much like a scene in a snow globe, they has been frozen in time.

As I get older and our family branches from direction to direction, I can’t quite hold onto the winters of my past.  They were simple and uncomplicated and full of beauty and I miss them.

Holidays have become about spreading myself too thin from traveling here to there and seeing this person to seeing that person, and I grow weary of the changes.  This time of the year always brings me moments of regret for not having children.  And I latch onto my beautiful nieces all the more, well aware that they are growing up. And as one informed me last weekend, will be moving to a new country for University in two short years and my heart breaks again.  I miss her already and fear she won’t come back. I strain to see the child in her but I can’t.  And as they grow older, so begins another change to our winter traditions.  It is growth.

Why is it that we wish to hold onto those childhood moments.  I suppose it’s because as a child they seemed perfect.  I am betting however my parents would tell me that they were full of imperfection that my innocent young eyes would not have grasped.  I prefer to keep these cherished memories as untarnished highlights of my life.

Beautiful, endearing moments of my heart and I would not have it any other way.

Yes, Old Man Winter is welcome at my house along with his ice encrusted suitcase full of my memories.  In fact, I look forward to our first Winter’s dance together, under the sky while snowflake confetti lightly touches my face and sticks to my eyelashes and I twirl under the beauty of it all feeling like the enthralled five year old of my dreams.

He is my winter lover, my solace, my moment of dreams and my friend. And like all old friends, he will always have a place in my heart and in my home.

Until Next Time.
Smooches Pooches.

This week I will be linking up with Best Posts of the Week and thank them for hosting same.

THE HANDS OF A STRANGER

It’s Wednesday and the middle of the week.  My nerves are twisted and taut from the stress of my job.  Home seems to be a boring and a bland place to hang.

Everyone wants a piece of me and I feel the need to escape, and so I do.  With a twitch of my nose, I transport myself to a Spa.  But no ordinary spa, one that is entrenched within the beauty of a historic, romantic castle.  Where the walls are ensconced in warm candlight.  Soft lyrical tunes of a harp play somewhere off into the distance.  I strain to hear where it comes from, but there are too many intriguing hallways and I am left to stand in my silk robe and bare feet wondering and hoping that I will eventually get a sneak peek at the musical instrument that transports me to another time and era.  And just as I am about to slip into a musical trance, a rugged deep and throaty voice that send chills up my back calls to me.  I turn in time to catch the silhouette of a tall, dark stranger heading thru gothic like doors, but not before he pauses and turns to look at me with his piercing green eyes.  He beckons to me: It’s time for your massage bonita, he says with a roll of his Spanish tongue that sends tiny little shivers down through my hips and into the tip of my toes. I am his servant with no will of my own and follow him without question.

Without will and thought, I lay upon a table drapped in soft sensual fabric and I close my eyes as I smell his muskiness and drift off into a land of ease as his warm muscular hands work to loosen my tense and strained body.

And in a moment of quietness and pure unabashed bliss, he bends down with that husky voice of his and purrs into my ears:

“Why are you here?”

I softly say back: “I just need a place to escape.” and then I sigh as his hands travel further down my back and I snuggle deeper into the softness of the fabric draped table.

“What my beautiful, would make your life complete?” he says so softly that I barely can hear him.

I don’t answer because I don’t know, so I just close my eyes and drift.  Somewhere between heaven and earth, my soul floats surrounded by this moment of pleasure.  And I lose myself.

Later as I leave, I see you standing there waiting your turn.  I give you that smile that says “you are in for a treat”.  And as I look at you again, I realize that you know, you’ve been here before and that is why you are back.

And as I walk past the door of his room, I hear him say to you:

“What my beautiful, would make your life complete?”

And you say......................

NOVEMBER'S COLOURS

And a soft kiss from mother nature

Until Next Time.

Smooches Pooches

THE GRASS IS NOT ALWAYS GREENER

As long as I have known myself, I have lived behind a wall of humour. I am not protecting myself from anything. It's just that laughing is a much more pleasant way to go thru life. But behind my humour, I battle some serious moments of unhappiness, due to a part of my life that I have been grieving the loss of for several years.

This is a difficult blog for me to post about, and I am sure that I will take a lot of heat for it, but in any event, I am talking about my single life. Lately, I have been reading a lot of blogs by a lot of wonderful, single women, whom I adore and whom I would never want to offend. They often write about searching, wanting, needing and wishing for love to appear for them. I, of all the people you will meet, can completely relate as I was single for a long period of time before the right man entered into my life.

There are days though that as much as I adore these wonderful single women, I just want to shake them and say "snap out of it"! Because, the fact of the matter is that the grass is not always greener on the other side. I am a true testimony to that. When I was single, my life was lacking in love, but it was unbelievably full. I was busy, I was hanging out with my girlfriends, we were going and doing things. Dinners, movies, lunches, theatre, spa dates, girl parties, you name it the sky was the limit. We took courses and learned new things, we went for cocktails and sat at pubs. We traveled, we ate, we drank wine, we giggled, we ooohed and aaahhed, we wished for, we dreamed together, we shared our hopes, our thoughts, our desires but mostly, we bonded. We bonded so strongly and developed a sisterly love for each other that we hoped would stand the test of time. We were wrong.

I wouldn't trade my better half for the world, but a part of my life died when we became a couple. No longer able to go out on a moment's whim to a girl function, my life became dictated around what we as a couple had planned. This is part of being a considerate person in the relationship. Listen, I realize that your life does not end the moment you are in relationship, but if you think that you are going to spend the same amount of time with your girlfriends, you are wrong. When you enter into a relationship, you have to think of your partner and their needs, as well as your own, and spending the quality time with them to make your relationship grow, or it just won't work. Especially in today's society when we are all working so hard in our lives, from careers, to children, to family, to friends, something will always have to take a backseat as there is just not enough time in the day.

So what am I trying to say here: well, I love my better half. You all know that. He is fun, crazy, weird, goofy, and for someone who asked me yesterday, yes he does have his sense of smell, he just doesn't care that I fart (thank gawd or this relationship would have ended on day one!). But the fact of the matter is that the special girl time that you as single women are enjoying is invaluable, memorable, wonderful, indescribable and nothing in the world compares to the bonding of women. Being single is such a special time in your life. It is complete freedom, there is no one to answer to but yourself, it is moments of indulgence, it is moments of yourself, it is about you, and only wonderful you, and I am even choking up as I write this as that is how much I miss it.

Value what you have, whether that be a relationship, or whether that be singleness. There are perks and downfalls to each. But whatever stage of life you are in, enjoy that ride until it comes to an end because I can tell you that for every single girl standing with her face pressed against a window looking in at a couple, there is a woman in a relationship standing on the other side of that window looking out at the single girl with a longing and her arms outstretched.

Now I am going to go and blow my nose and fix my mascara and hope that you will still love me after this crazy rant.

In the meantime, note that I am only speaking from my perspective and that I am pms-ing *blink blink*...

Until Next Time.
Smooches Pooches

EXTRA EXTRA.... READ ALL ABOUT IT!

It's an Average Life has gone to the papers!

Yup, I am officially a published writer with my monthly column in the Lifestyles section of a newspaper.  And, I can barely believe it!

When the paper arrived today, I was like a kid in a candy store.  In fact, after my better half phoned me at work to let me know, I was bouncing in my seat. Up and down, up and down, up and down like a complete moron!  My whole body was tingling and I felt like I was going to explode with joy!  Literally, it took all my self control not to run down the streets of my little town screaming at the top of my lungs (not that anyone would notice, as it is pretty much par for the course here). 

And the joy has not faded!  But I have to tell you something, I couldn't read my article.  Can you believe it?  I was absolutely embarrassed and I am not sure why!

All these crazy weird thoughts have been running thru my mind like: What the heck are these people going to think of me?  Nuts?  Perhaps... Weird? Most definitely... Will they ask the editor to scrap me... Will they arrive at the Newspaper with pitchforks asking for the removal of my crazy article.  Or gawd forbid, write into the Editor to criticize!  I have this ridiculous notion that I am setting myself up for failure and I am not sure my ego can take it.  So much easier to hide away behind my screen! Ugghh!

I suppose only time will tell.  In the meantime, I am basking in this one moment of glory.  My less than 10 seconds of mediocre fame.  A fleeting moment?  Perhaps...  But definitely a memorable one!

Until Next Time.

Smooches Pooches

PS  Thank you to all the new followers who signed up recently.  You have definitely made my week!

THURSDAY TOOTS: And the War of the Wedgies

I often think of myself as a ninja, a klutzy one that often falls and breaks bones and bonks her head a few times and is most certainly lacking stealth like precision, but a ninja when it comes to the art of wedgies.

Oh yes, my better half and I have engaged in sneak attack wedge-a-fying for seven long years.  Being that he’s a tall man, and I am a short chickalet, wedgies became my maneuver of choice and began out of my frustration of never being able to get the upper hand on a momentary play fight.  You see, my better half needs to only stick out his long annoying arm and secure his bony hand to my forehead, and well let’s just say that reaching him with my short appendages is next too impossible. And as I flail my arms here and there, it causes me much humiliation while he mockingly laughs at my inability to get at him.

Not one for backing down after being bested, I developed my ninja wedgie strategy early on in our relationship.  Ah yes, in the beginning  when he least expected it, I would get behind him, grab the back of his underwear and hike it up as hard as my short little arms could go and watch him stand up on his tip toes screaming like the little girl I knew he was.  Oh the pure joy of one upping him was beyond pleasurable, in fact I would say I was euphoric with my new found ability.

Unfortunately many years later, and perhaps one too many sneak attacks, and he’s onto me. With the knowledge he has gained over the years of reading my face and movements, he has developed his own keen sixth sense of when a secret wedgie attack is about to happen.  In one quick deft movement, we often find ourselves in an embrace, with my hands around his waist pulling his underwear up, and his hands around my waist pulling my underwear up with both of us yelling:

“Say uncle.”

“No you say uncle.”

“You say uncle first!”

“NEVER!!!”

“Let go for gawd sakes!”

“No you let go!”. 

This impasse can go on for a very long period of time while we both teeter on the tips of our toes and our lovely dulcet tones become banshee-like shrills.  Neither one of us willing to let go due to our genetically imprinted stubborn streaks, we often stay in that position until we ultimately hear “rrrrrrrrrrrriiiipppp”.

Oh yes it is true my friends, between the two of us, we have bought so many pairs of replacement underwear that we should own full shares in Fruit of the Looms and Hanes.

I suppose I won’t stop these sneak attacks until I have reach my ultimate goal of an atomic wedgie status.  You know, when you pull the underwear up so high that you can stick it over the victim’s head.  The fact that he is a foot taller than me is not deterring me at all from my goal!  One day that man is going to be 80 years old and not so spry in his movements, and when that day comes, I will have my atomic wedgie revenge.  It won’t be that difficult, I’ll just trip him with my cane, grab the back of his undies and yank them to the moon!  Let’s just hope the Depends are as stretchy as his Fruit of the Looms.

Until Next Time.
Smooches Pooches

TEN ODD THINGS ABOUT ME.

Let me just start by saying that I am overwhelmed and touched by the beautiful comments left yesterday, and while my head is still enveloped in this vice grip, it is nothing compared to what others suffer daily. But yesterday after reading all the comments, I felt much like the Grinch where my heart grew ten times and I cannot thank you enough.  So to lighten the mood a little. I thought I would blog about 10 odd things about myself, and then come back and see if you are still a follower.... ha ha ha

Okay, here we go:

1.  I have never had a cavity in my entire life. Nope no cavities no braces. And ironically neither has my brother. We have saved our parents mucho moula! And yes, we are the freaky stepford children.

2. I eat pickles with mayonnaise spread on them. Yes gross to some, a delicacy of the unusual to me!

3. I knew at the age of 5 years old I was never going to have children. A friend of mine told my wee little self all the gory details about giving birth and I had nightmares for years. I'm still scarred by it.  Of course, she went on to have a bunch of children!  The wench!

4. Once when I was young, I told my mother she was very bad and when she turned away from me, I swatted her with a wooden spoon so hard that it broke across her hiney. There's still a well deserved hand print on my ass to this day!

5. When I was 7 years old, we went to Disneyland. The week before we arrived, Donny Osmond had been at our hotel and had secured the entire floor that we ended up staying on. My father gave me a pair of purple socks while we were there (as Donny was well known for wearing purple socks) and said the housekeeping staff found them. Every night for years, I use to put them on my feet and sleep with them.  And of course, it goes without saying that I wouldn't wash them, as I didn't want to wash "Donny" off the socks. What's worse, is that I held onto those bloody socks for 20 years before I found out they were my dad's stinky leftovers! My mother still breaks out in a giggle over this some 30 something years later.  In fact, when I read this to her, she laughed her face off.  Oh the joys of parents!

6. I have small lips but I am still able to balance a spoon above my lip and below my lip at the same time (yes you heard it here first)!  Of course, I do look like a complete ape when I do it. 

7. I cannot drink beer. The first time I ever did the teenage drunk thing was due to drinking a case of warm beer, and unfortunately, I was hung over for three days. Twenty-five years later, and the smell of beer can still make hurl.

8. When I was in my mid 20's I went to Scotland and while there I experienced a flurry of "flash backs" to a previous life in a prior century. It did not matter if I was walking or sitting, all of a sudden a flash of another life would appear briefly before my eyes. Not too mention that every thing was crazily familiar to me. And I couldn't stop feeling this deep unending sadness and heartache. As soon as I left Scotland so did all the flashes and feelings.

9. I often know when people close to me have died long before I have been told. I have even woken up at the exact time of death of one of my grandfathers.  Ironically, I never feel sad, I almost feel like they came and said goodbye to me.

10. I have a crazy collection of Lucille Ball memorabilia.  When I was 12 years old, I was sure I was related to her.  Of course, I am sure she was glad not to be related to me!  On a side note, I was a very unusual child, I use to write to celebrities and send them little books with my 8 year old pictures and drawings in it and tell them about my country bumpkin kind of life.  I still have a postcard from Cher and a photo from Barbra Streisand... I suppose after 10 letters or so, they just gave in and wrote me to shut me up!  By the way after 10 letters of devotion to Donny Osmond, all I got back for my effort, was a catalogue to their Mormon products.  Sheesh!

There you have it in all my craziness.

Still want to hang around?
Perhaps, better yet, you will share a crazy moment of yours!

Until Next Time.
Smooches Pooches

SEARCHING FOR JOY

Several times a year, I get this complete sense of sadness, loss and ever so slightly a touch of despair. Some individuals call it s.a.d.s. disease, and yet others call it depression. I call it a loss of my joy, better known as Tracy’s Chronic Pain Syndrome. Moments where I am in so much pain, that trying to locate my joy is next to impossible. And I spend the day questioning the reason why I am placed on this earth. Wondering how I can make a difference in someone’s life for the better when I have such raw painful days that stop me in my tracks. I wonder how am I suppose to leave a positive imprint on this earth when I feel desperately sad by limitations.

In essence, I question what my purpose is.

Being a spiritual person with strong beliefs in caring for the planet, I often wonder why the fates would let me live in a constant state of pain which limits my life and all that I wish to do. And why simple things like standing and watching my youngest niece’s soccer game on Saturday would leave me in chronic agony come Sunday.

I often wonder if I am not a good enough person and whether I am being punished for something I am unaware of.

I have actual moments of wanting to shut down my facebook page, close up shop on my blog and runaway. Lucky for me that I am so sore that running away is next to impossible, and what you would see is this stiff girl doing a whacked out hop jog down the road all the while yelling: “oooh, owww, ouch, good grief, oh my gawd”. So now for me, running away constitutes walking down the hallway and soaking in a bathtub for two hours until:

a. the bath water gets so cold that I cannot feel my toes or my boobs; or

b. I get so shriveled up that there is not much difference between the look of a raison or my butt cheeks, except that my butt cheeks are significantly larger.

So yes today is a moment of sadness for me. A moment where I would like to sit down and have a really good cry. A moment where I feel useless. A moment where I feel like a burden on others. A moment, just a moment.

The pain does that too me unfortunately. It drains me of my joy.

And today, as corny as it sounds, I just need to throw out the following:  "Oh joy, where are you today?  I miss you so much, that my heart hurts. How I could do with your warm hug and embrace. Come back soon as I am getting tired of continually fighting these painful days. And I am not sure how much more fight I have left."

I am so sorry that you have become an unlikely guest at my pity party for one.

At least, tomorrow is another day.  And perhaps a better one at that. 

And as pathetic as this sounds, I am going to buy some joy today, namely, the Cole Haan purse I saw on sale.. And yes, I know what you are thinking, because I am thinking it too. 

Thank you for listening.

Until Next Time.
Smooches Pooches

OUT AND ABOUT

Often, I giggle about my little redneck town.  I jokingly tell people that it's a place where cousins marry cousins and everyone has a third nipple or one eyeball in the middle of their forehead... But in all seriousness, there are days where parts of it take my breath away.  Here's a little tour of our lovely city square:

From moments at the sweet little boutique carrying imported cosmetics

To stopping by on a Saturday for the local farmers market

Or perhaps a stroll thru the vintage store for great finds

And if your feet are tired, maybe a moment of 

pampering at the spa

What times does that say?

I still have some more time to shop! Yahoo!

But if my time is running out,

perhaps I could hang out the window

and watch the comings and goings of 

downtown life

But if not, I will head into

one of my favourite clothing stores

Followed by a leisurely stroll

thru the french inspired boutique

And since I was downtown too long,

I will make sure I swing by and pay

my parking ticket at City Hall!

All in all, not too bad of a day today!

How was yours?

I hope your weekend brings you

wonderful surprises and great finds!

This weekend I am linking up with

Seasonal Sundays and thank The Tablescaper

for hosting same.

Until Next Time.

Smooches Pooches