Living the Dream

Good morning. So far today promises to be a beautiful day. Were my father still alive, he would be 98 today, and so disappointed with the way the world is now. But, I don’t want any negative vibes today because I’m determined to be happy. My appointment at the eye surgeon yesterday was great. I’ve opted to have the cataract surgery done at the private clinic, and it will be done on April 20, Day 17 of this year’s challenge. How’s that for a short wait list. Yes, it will cost me a bit of money, but it will be worth it. He’ll do both eyes at the same time, give me an injection in each which will allow me to by-pass the five weeks of drops 4 times a day, and I may only need to wear glasses to drive at night. That will be the biggest bonus.

Today’s letter is H. H starts many words, hair, halo, happy, healing, hoarder, holidays, and husband. I’m going to start things off with hair. I was born with brown hair–not a rich sable or a glorious auburn, but plain, brown hair. As soon as I was old enough, I started changing it. Over the course of my lifetime, I’ve been a brunette, a redhead, and a blonde, until COVID.

At that time, like so many of my peers, I allowed the natural color to return only now it’s gray, although I prefer the term silver. My hair’s been long, it’s been short, it’s been straight, and it’s been permed. Afterall, whatever was in style was what I wanted. Braids, chignon, messy bun, steaks, ballinage, foils, bleaching, teasing, I’ve done it all. But no more. Now, it’s cut short, easy to style, and requires little maintenace.

Why is it we are never happy with what God gave us? I’ve always wanted to be taller and thinner. Instead in my old age, I’m shorter and thicker. Serves me right, I guess. Mom always said be grateful for what you have. She never really offered an alternative.

I know this picture of the moon surrounded by a rainbow is probably AI, but I like it. It reminds of a colorful bullseye, or maybe a halo. When I was a kid, my grandmother had pictures of saints in the house as well as the holy family. She also had several oil lamps with reflectors. For the longest tine, I thought those halos could be removed just like the lamp’s reflectors. It was a great disappointment to learn that they were only there in paintings. I guess you might say photoshop has been around a long time.

For my next H words, I want to tackle two of them: husband and hoarder. To some of you, that might sound like an odd combination, but to me, it makes perfect sense. My husband, I love hm to bits and after 54 years it’s a good thing that I do, isn’t what you would consider a traditional hoarder. No. He’s a specialist. His specilties are two-fold, the first Star Trek memorabilia, the second boxes. He has a box collection that must be the envy of all box collectors out there. He has boxes inside of boxes, inside of boxes, until he can’t fit any other boxes inside. You’re moving? You need an odd-sized box, John probably has just the thing. He’s like a kid, and “Ooh! That is a really good box,” is a family joke.

Finally, my last H word is home. Home is where the heart is and home is where I’m happy. At the end of a long day, they’re nothing better than turning the doorknob and going inside.

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Good morning. We made it to Day 8 although Day 7 and WordPress gave me a hard time yesterday and not only wouldn’t let me post a song for you, it insisted on posting when I wrote the post not when it should’ve. In order to make sure the blog is up in time, I post the day before. My blog is awake before I am.

It seems the weather report is part of my dailies now. Once again, Old Man Winter is upon us. Yesterday, the temperature was -2 C, feels like-9 with the wind, and we got some snow. Today, it’s -7, but sunny, and if we’re lucky, we’ll hit 6 this afternoon. I can only hope since I won’t be getting much done today. I have an appointment with the opthalmologist and after he puts drops in my eyes, I’ll be out of commission for the day. It’ll give me a chance to finish my audiobook.

Today’s letter is G. It can stand for many things, like grief, gifts, gratitude, graduations, and being a grandparent, but I’m going to focus on a simple word, GOOD.

There isn’t enough good these days. Everyone is looking for the superlatives, the perfects, the awesomes, the amazings, the fantatics, the extraordinary, all the while forgetting that sometimes good is as good as it gets, that sometimes, good is all you’ve got, all you can hope for. Going to the eye surgeon tomorrow is a good thing.

When I went to my optometrist back in December, she informed me that while my precription hadn’t changed enough to warrant new lenses, there were definite signs that I had developed cataracts. I was devastated. Me who loved to read and write losing my sight?

She quickly stemmed my panic by telling me that it was common at my age and easily fixed. It might not even worsen for a while, but if it did, then she might have to take away my driver’s license. Now, once more in full panic mode, I asked her what I could do. She referred me to the only eye surgeon in the city. So, the good thing is that I only had to wait four months for the appointment. Later this morning, he’ll give me a thorough (3 hours long) examination and we’ll discuss next steps. Cataract surgery is a lot more common than I knew. When I mentioned it to friends, I was amazed by the number of them who’d already had it.

There are all kinds of grief. Losing a loved one is the worst of course, but as you get older you grieve other things, many of which you might not have lost had you taken better care of yourself. Losing my sight would do it for me, but the other great loss is hearing.

When my husband was diagnosed with profound hearing loss, he was devastated. I’d seen it coming for years–the TV turned up too loud, the car radio blaring, but when he realized he couldn’t hear the grandkids, it hit home. He was missing so much of what they said. He agreed to get hearing aids. They help and yet they don’t. After years of only hearing so much, suddenly it can be overwhelming. When we go to concerts, the movies, out for drinks or dinner with friends, or when everyone talks at once around the dinner table, he removes them because the chaos is more than he can process. That kind of grief endures. Touch wood, my hearing is still good–not perfect but good enough that I don’t need hearing aids.

My final take on good is simple.

It’s easy to be good, to do good, and to see good in others. here’s my favorite song with good in the title because it reminds me of the good times.

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If you are looking for the A to Z Challenge Blog, it’s the post before this one.

Good morning. For those who celebrated Easter yesterday, I hope you had a great day with friends and family. We had a rainy day, are having another today, but the temperature is 10C, so maybe spring has found us. We’ll see. This week, the authors who share their ongoing work with you at Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt RAINY. How appropriate. I’m continuing with my cozy mystery, The Case of the Missing Prince. Don’t forget to click the link at the end and go visit the other great posts. Feel free to comment. I love feedback.

I smiled in return. He certainly was a talkative fellow. Hopefully, he was a good, knowledgeable one, too. As far as his comment on his family went, I wasn’t sure whether his wife had died or left him, but either way it was none of my business.

“We are. We suspect he was injured in the landslide last spring and is suffering from amnesia.” That was the story we’d all agreed would work for us. Since Andreea wasn’t officially missing, we’d decided to keep her name out of it—for the moment. “His family is worried about him, but right now, we’re going to the Palliser Hotel. They’re expecting us for an early check-in. How long will it take to get there?”

“About thirty minutes. Traffic shouldn’t be too heavy at this time of the day.” He reached for the handle of my suitcase. “Here, let me take that for you.”

I let him lead the way and dropped back to walk beside Al. I would’ve loved to take his hand, but we had agreed to keep things as business-like as possible in front of the others.

The doors swished open, and we stepped out into drizzle and eighteen degrees Celsius. I zipped my jacket.

“I thought it would be warmer,” I mused, but then when had I ever trusted the weather person to be right?

“Don’t let this fool you. It may be cool now, but it’s going to get worse. There’s a frost warning for tonight. Tomorrow they’re calling for twenty-five. You never know what to expect at this time of the year. Could be sunny, could be rainy, could be snow. I hope you’re prepared for anything.”

Hank stopped beside a black Mercedes van in the VIP parking. The vehicle was large enough to accommodate all of us and our luggage. Viktor got in the front seat beside Hank, Al and I sat in the middle row, while Petrov took the backseat. The car had leather seat, air conditioning, and that new car smell that I loved.

“This car is equipped for just about any terrain you’ll find in the mountains. I don’t know where you plan to go, but this baby will get you there.”

I saw no reason not to be upfront with the man. Hallie had checked with all of her sources before hiring him and his reputation was impeccable. If Leo was still alive and had gone to ground, he might know the best places to search.

Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.

Good morning. I will admit I was more functional about twenty minutes ago before the Internet glitched and I lost the post for today that I’d just completed. There’s functional and then there’s barely capable to make the right choice.

But either way, I’m up, I exercised, I read my email, the world news, got cleaned up, made coffee, and now I’m attempting to recreate the blog I’d already written but lost. Sounds about right.

Today’s letter is F. Other than functional, F stands for things like friends, family, food, and freedom. Let’s start with Family. I have five grandchildren, four here and one in Norway. We were able to see the four here at Easter and FaceTime with the one in Norway. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Where have the years gone?

Food is something else that starts with F. Not just stuff you eat, but the stuff that feeds your soul. Seeing those guys or talking o them online feeds my soul and reminds me of how lucky I am.

Friends are the family we choose for ourselves.

Finally, the last F word I want to use (and that was deliberate) is FREEDOM. I’m so grateful to live in a country where I have the freedome to be myself, to choose my friends, my health care, to make my own finacial decisions, and know that if I ever need help I have friends and family who love me, and that is the best freedom of all since it lets me be there for them and them for me.

This is a day early because Facebook and WordPress hate me today!

Good morning. I hope everyone who celebrated yesterday had a great day with friends and or family. We had a wonderful time with out grandkids. Ate too much, that’s for sure, but sent them all home with a lunch for tomorrow and still had leftovers.

So what did I learn from Easter 2026? In a nutshell, I’m old and definitely ready for freeze, squeeze, and sneeze. The truth is that I’m exhausted. I love them all to bits, but I just can’t party like I used to do.

Today’s letter is E and I’m going to muse about being elderly. Old sounds so unapplealing, but elderly somehow has class.

It wasn’t all that long ago–fifty years isn’t old when you’re a tree, a human, well that’s a different matter–when I could stay up until well past midnight, having drinks and now, ten-thirty feels like midnight. No one told us that when we were finally old enough to do whatever we wanted, we woiuldn’t have the energy to follow through.

But, I now realize my grandparents were onto something. There is nothing more enjoyable than doing your own thing, minding your own business, and living life on your own terms. Being elderly, especially when you have most of your health going for you can open new opportunities, and sometime, it may give you too much time to think and maybe even plot your revenge! Husbands can be so frustarating!

My husband and I have been married 54 years. There are times when I get annoyed with his idiosyncracies. Like what is it about a man being unable to find something that’s practically right in front of them? My favorite was from yesterday. “Have you see my curling hat? I was wearing it yesterday when I came home.”

Man-eyes! They are a real thing. Hat was in the car where he left it when he took it off to fight with the seatbelt. Funny how he couldn’t see it because it wasn’t on his right. It rarely is when you sit in the passenger seat, at least not in Canada.

But, when it comes right down to it, the best things in life are free. And getting to gtow old is one of them. Is there anything more enjoyable than sitting out on the veranda on a warm summer night, sipping a glass of wine, and looking up at the moon? Since we spray for mosquitoes, the little suckers are under control and don’t spoil the fun.

Connecting with old friends is something else I enjoy, comparing notes, even if it is about operations can be quite funny, but sometimes those reminnesces can make you sad. That’s the downside of being elderly. You spend more time at wakes and funerals than at baby showers and weddings.

By now, many of us have lost more than one parent, sibling, child, or friend. It’s hard, and it really never gets easier, but memories, good and bad, remind us of the days we had together and help us cherish the days we still have with those who love us and whom we love. After seeing the meme beside this, I will remember what SAD stands for. My father would’ve loved the acronym.

So, we are elderly, but we’ve still got some gas in our tanks and it isn’t from a visit to Taco Bell. Enjoy today’s song!

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To all my friends and family who celebrate, have a wonderful Easter.

It’s Saturday, although since I’m retired, one might say that every day is Saturday. The truth of it is, more days are like Mondays. Just because I don’t go out to work doesn’t mean I don’t have things to do, some of them more pleasant that others. The problem is that when I want to do them doesn’t always coincide with when I can do them. For example, working in the yard depends on the weather. Every day has its own challenges and with Winter’s refusal to let go, the cycle of cold, rain, freezing rain, and snow has yet to end. Am I bitter? Maybe a little. Winter started in November, it’s now April. Your lease has expired. Move on!

Enough griping! Today’s letter is D. This year, D stands for DAYLIES, the things I do each day, sometimes consciously, at others by rote, or simply because I’ve always done them this way. Everyone has a morning routine. Mine is probably quite similar. I get up, go to the bathroom, go into the kitchen turn on the coffeemaker, and open the drapes. I go back into the bedroom, make the bed, and then settle down in my favorite chair by the front window where I can look out on my small corner of the universe since it’s too cold to sit on the veranda. I drink my tea and read the news–good or bad, I need to know what’s happening in the world. But a week ago, I decided to shake things up.

One of my daily battles has been having enough energy to exercise at the end of my work day. I don’t mind walking outside in the nice weather, but … I purchased an exercise bike, not one like you’ll find at a gym, where the seat wants to get to know your tonsils in the Biblical sense, but one where you sit on an ordinary chair and pedal. Now, while most of my morning routine stays the same, I get my tea or coffee and go downstairs to the family room where I store my fitness equipment–don’t get excited. It’s just a small treadmill and the exercise bike, and read my news off my phone or catch up with emails there. I now spend 40 minutes doing something that is healthy. The bonus? I actually have more energy. I shower and get on with my day. So far, it’s been a win-win situation.

Here are some of the other memes I came across that fall into my new daylies, because, let’s face it, all days are not the same, but we all need to make the best of each one we have. Old age is a precious gift denied to many. Make the best of every day. Enjoy!

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Good morning! Contrary to my chosen meme for this morning, it’s going to be 20 C at some point today although it’ll rain all day, too, before plunging back to the negatives and snow Sunday night. The joy of spring in Eastern Canada when Mother Nature realizes that all of her warm weather clothes have shrunk–but enough about my wardrobe.

It’s April 3, 2026, Good Friday on the Christian calendar. When I was a child, this was a day of reverence, a day to go to church, listen to the lenthy reading of the Lord’s Passion, and then going home to a somber, meatless meal.

But in this part of the world, for a lot of people, that has changed. Today’s letter is C, and among other things, I’ll be musing on change, can’t, choice, crayons and colours, not matter which way you spell it.

Good Friday has become synonymous with the first day off of the holiday weekend and is a time to gather not in churches, but in bars with friends. The bars have special menus, most of them set around fish or seafood, to give a semblance to the idea that avoiding meat is the order of the day, but a rich Coquille St Jacques? You decide. They also have entertainment as in bands, and by late afternoon, you’re lucky if you can belly up to the bar.

Good or bad, I don’t know, and I won’t judge. These are hard times for all of us, and being with people is more important than ever. We may be different on the outside, but when it comes to bones, we’re all the same. Some of us may still resemble ourselves from years past, while others have had a much harder road to travel. There are days when this cat and I are on the same page. My new artificial hip is a year old this month, and doing well. I no longer need a walker or a cane, but the other hip is begging for attention soon. If only I’d known when I was younger what I know now! I might’ve taken better care of myself, but then again, how much fun would that have been?

Those are my can’ts for the day, a reminder to myself that what’s done is done, but that I have to be careful not to repeat the mistakes of yesteryears. It’s also a reminder that like a Star Trek Borg, I need to regenerate and take time to refill my cup. Never forget how important it is to take care of yourself. You can’t take care of others if you don’t. You have choices. Make the right ones.

I’ve made my choice. I choose to be happy, to have faith in mankind, to hope for better days ahead, and to hold those I love as tightly as I can for as long as I can.

My next C word will be crayon. An odd choice, you think. Where can she be going with this? Well, it all goes back to choice. When I was a child, shortly after dinosaurs roamed the earth, Easter was a little different than it is now. It meant chruch, new clothes, an horrendously ugly hat, but it also meant chocolate bunnies and Easter eggs. But my favorite gift was always the new box of crayons and colouring books. The year I got the BIG box with the sharpener, I was in Seventh Heaven! I loved all of the various colours and shades, but no matter what Cayola invented, Mother Nature had the best ones, the orange, gold, and red of fall, the pink, green, yellow, and purple of spring, and her piece de resistance, the rainbow! Have a wonderful day!

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Here we are, Day 2 and I’m still here. This is the week leading up to Easter and my eldest son is home for the holiday. At 53, he’s not a kid anymore and having him home means a bit more work for me. He has very few friends left in town, and so we get all of his attention. Bear with me as we get to today’s post.

I’m a boomer. Born in 1950, I came into a very different world from the one this generation embraces. WWII had ended five years earlier, and there were plenty of soldiers who fought Hitler and the Nazi menace, many of them including members of my family who’d served both at home and abroad, many neighbors whose screams from nightmares woke us up at night, back in the days when there were no air conditioners and windows were open to cooling night breezes. I thank God that they aren’t around now to see the rise to power of that same ugly racism.

Was I a badass? Maybe. I wore mini skirts, danced to the greatest music ever, went to concerts, and wore see-through blouses and bikinis. But I also faced discrimination because of my sex–lower pay scale, inability to open a bank account, get a credit card, or a personal loan without my husband’s signature, even though he could do all that without mine. Thankfully, those days are passed and women can sign documents for themselves.

In case you haven’t figured it out, today’s letter is B and it stands for more than being a badass. Be stands for believing, especially believing in yourself. When I first started teaching, I believed that I could make a difference in the lives of children. Teaching them to read, write, count, speak both English and French opened the world up to them and gave them opportunities to be anything they wanted. But, there were days when beliving I was making a difference was much harder then others. It usually took a boost from a friend to set me on the right path.

Today we’ll hear from the king himself.

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Welcome to April 2026. As I have the last ten years or so, I’m participating in the A to Z Challenge, so if that’s what you’re looking for this morning, scroll down. It went live before this post.

In some countries, including mine, the first day of April is called April Fools Day where people play practical jokes on others. In my case, I have a niece and a nephew, one year apart in age, both born on this date. Needless to say, they’ve taken a significant amount of ribbing over the years.

This month’s question mentions a playlist or songs to motivate me to write. I’m almost ready to start singing Christmas songs again. “The weather outside is frightful…” and it is. Rain in the morning, snow in the evening, back to rain and snow the next day. The only thing that motivates me to do is stay in bed.

Here is this month’s question: If you have a playlist (or could put one together) that either gets you in the groove to write or fits with one of your books, what is it? What type of music or what songs?

Short answer, I do not listen to music when I write. I prefer working in absolute silence. Even bird song, the sound of lawnmowers, or other machinery is distracting. That being said, I often reference songs in my novels when the words I’m writing trigger a memory. When that happens, the songs will be classic rock ones. A newer song might slip in, but those are few and far between.

That tendency is most visible in my novel, Same Time Next Year, which is essentially an older woman writing her memoir, specifically of the events of the summer of 1967 that changed her life. The story is in third person when dealing with current times, and then the voice becomes first person for the memoir. Unlike me, Twyla has a playlist, a gift form her granddaughter, and goes through it as she recounts that time in her life. Here’s an excerpt to show you how I used the music from my youth and memories to create the story within the story.

After doctoring her coffee the way she liked it, Twyla felt that writer insecurity, that fear of failure that dogged each new novel, plague her once more. No matter how many books she wrote, she always started a new one wondering if she was crazy to be doing it, but this time instead of nagging whispers, the voices screamed. Maybe the whole idea was too preposterous to work. Seriously, who would want to read about old-fashion ideas and a young girl’s first love? She huffed out a breath. She would have liked to have had that chance, if only to learn from someone else’s mistakes and avoid the quagmire she’d stepped in.

Reaching for the USB Lana had given her, she plugged it into her laptop and opened it to reveal the list of songs it contained. Normally, she worked in silence, but since none of her usual methods and quirks worked, maybe this time, she needed inspiration from elsewhere.

Sounds of “The Letter” filled the room. Closing her eyes, she listened to the Box Tops. Why hadn’t Michael moved heaven and earth to come for her the way the lyrics said? She’d sent him the letter. Why had he never answered it?

As Frankie Valli’s voice filled the room with “Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You,” she began to type.

While I do refer to music in other novels, I haven’t done it this completely in any other work. I still prefer working in silence.

What about you? Do you enjoy working in slience or do you need background music to motivate you?

Check out other responses to this month’s questions here.

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