Living the Dream

Welcome to April 5, 2025. My husband and I have been married 53 years, and yes, that is to each other. I’m not a saint, and I doubt he is, but when you spend more than half your life with a person, you learn to compromise and accept that no relationship is perfect. We all go through good times and bad ones, but we’ve been lucky enough to do it together. John is not only my husband, but he’s my biggest fan, my greatest supporter, and the one who deserves the credit for everything I’ve become over the last 55 years that we’ve been a couple. I didn’t know what I was capable of doing until he came into my life. Together, we have three children and five grandchildren. Today, I’m going to talk about another of them.

Today’s letter is E and Eleni, my second-oldest granddaughter. Eleni-Jean, middle name that of my husband’s mother, is the spitting image of her own mother, but she does not have her mom’s personality. She’s easy-going with a let it be attitude the Beatles would envy. She’s a naturally-talented artist who has never had any formal training and yet produces beautiful paintings, many of which decorate our home. She’s also an incredible athlete and has won many awards for her prowess. In addition, she currently holds the highest rank available to an army cadet, that of RSM, which stands for Regimental Sergeant Major, an honor she earned when her brother aged-out back in December. More about him when we get to the letter N. She has a part-time job and is an excellent money manager. While she graduated last June, being only seventeen, she opted to go back for another year while she decided what she wanted to do with her life. Instead of classes, she took on two full-time coop placements, learning what it’s like to work for a living. She has many options and has explored construction, plumbing, farm work, auto mechanics, including welding–not the usual choices for a girl, but those are the areas that interest her and where she excels. Currently, she is completing a placement that will lead into an apprenticeship as an HVAC technician. Once she finishes that, she’s considering becoming a firefighter, too. Did I mention that she’s ambitious? I believe there’s nothing she can’t do when she sets her mind to it. Meet Eleni Jean!

And today’s song, is chosen for her.

We’ll see you Monday for the letter F. Check out the other blogs here. MASTER LIST https://tinyurl.com/tauke86z

April 4, 2025. Glad you decided to stick with me. Today’s Friday, the end of the workweek for many people. It was for me when I was teaching, but all that meant was that Saturday was grocery and house cleaning day.

In my younger days, I indulged myself by getting my hair done at the salon every Friday after school. Few people do that now, another habit that’s gone out of style, like dressing up for special occasions, or NOT wearing your pajamas to Wal-Mart.

After getting all gussied up, I would join my husband for an evening of mixed curling in the winter or dinner and drinks with friends, but Friday nights were the nights we spent enjoying ourselves. I suppose they call it Date night now. But I digress.

Today’s letter is D, so I decided to give you a little bit more information about one of Canada’s most famous exports, not steel but maple syrup–and no, we don’t bathe in it, but we do pour it on fresh, somewhat clean snow, let it harden, and roll it on spoons or sticks and eat it. You haven’t lived until you’ve had one of those treats. We also eat it with pancakes, crepes, French toast, in oatmeal, and on ice cream.

When I was much younger, each spring, we would drive to my great-uncle’s farm and spend a day at the cabane a sucre, the sugar shack. I loved riding on the horse-drawn sleigh through the woods, collecting the sap from the tin pails nailed to the trees, and dumping it into the large keg on the sleigh. That was the only time I saw all of my extended family, and some of those memories are my fondest. We had maple toffee made fresh on the cleanest patch of snow mon oncle could find. When we went home, it was always with six liquor bottles filled with the sweetest treat on earth. Today, few places tap the trees and collect the sap that way, but I still love the stuff.

This post is dedicated to teaching you a little more about out delectable sweet. And, yes, I know that Vermont and other states also make excellent maple syrup, but it just isn’t the same.

Canada, particularly Quebec, is a world leader in maple syrup production, with Quebec accounting for the majority of Canadian production and a significant portion of global supply. My great-uncle’s farm was in Ontario, just west of the Quebec border. Maple syrup is a cherished part of Canadian culture and identity. 

Here are some key facts about maple syrup and its production in Canada:

• Quebec Dominates Production: Quebec is the largest producer of maple syrup in Canada, accounting for approximately 91.6% of the country’s production. 
• Global Leader: Canada is a global leader in maple syrup production, producing about 85% of the world’s supply. 
• Seasonality: Maple syrup season typically begins in February or March and continues until the sap stops running, usually around the end of April. 
• Maple Tree Species: While many maple species exist, the sugar maple (Acer saccharum) is the primary source of sap for making maple syrup. 
• Nutritional Value: Maple syrup is a natural sweetener that contains minerals like manganese, riboflavin, and zinc. 
• Cultural Significance: Maple syrup is a symbol of Canadian identity, with the maple leaf on the Canadian flag representing the country’s abundance of sugar maple trees. 
• Indigenous History: Indigenous peoples of North America were the first to harvest maple sap and create maple syrup, passing down this knowledge to early settlers. 
• Export Destination: Canadian maple syrup is exported to approximately 50 countries, with the United States being the primary importer. 
• Color Variations: Maple syrup comes in different colors, including light, medium, amber, and dark, with darker syrup having a more robust flavor. 

Here’s your song of the day!

Come back tomorrow for the letter E. Have a great day! Check out the other blogs here: MASTER LIST https://tinyurl.com/tauke86z

April 3, 2025. Good morning! This is the most recent selfie I have of myself. The hair gets whiter every day. In the background, you’ll see an example of my son’s art. It’s titled Mother and Child, and he gave it to me on Mother’s Day about fifteen years ago. He only does pen and ink, but some of his pieces are truly remarkable.

You may also notice the decorative plate on top of the dresser. My daughter-in-law is Norwegian. WE’ve visited that country twice. I love it there. More about that in later posts. The plate depicts the Viking Snow queen, possibly the one Disney used for Elsa when they decided to make Frozen.

My office is painted mauve. It’s a soothing color and one that helps me stay focused. It’s also where I do all of my writing each day. As a rule, after I get up and make the bed, I grab coffee and settle in here. I check my email, my facebook. my website, my blog, and peruse the headlines, although these days they are more than a little depressing. Afterwards, I shower and get cleaned up for the day. Then, with more coffee at hand, I settle down to my day’s writing. At the moment, I’m working on three books at once: the first is a low fantasy/paranormal The Homecoming, the second book in the Listen to the Stones Saga, the next is a romance suspense called And Justice for All, and the third is a romantic comedy, From Paris With Love, but more about that in a later post. Writing three books at once can be challenging, but sometimes, I need a change of pace. For today, I’ll be working on the rom-com. I hope your day is a good one.

Today’s letter is C. It makes sense that I should use this letter to talk about my country. If you are Canadian or a citizen of the US, you have probably heard all the senseless rhetoric about Canada becoming the 51st state.

Doesn’t it make sense to ask those of us who make Canada home how we feel about that? Don’t get me wrong. The United States has many redeeming features and I have many friends who live there, but it is not my home.

If you look at this map, I live just a little south of that star. I love my country and everything it stands for. My paternal ancestors came here from France in the seventeenth century, my maternal ones from Brittany in the early eighteenth. So, I’ve got deep roots here. I speak English and French, and I’m proud of every aspect of my heritage. I’ve visited each province, even stuck a foot into the Yukon Territory. I have friends living everywhere from Vancouver Island, BC, to Prince Edward Island. This is my land, my home, and I have no desire to change that. My hip surgery won’t require me to mortgage my house to pay for it, thanks to our national health insurance. I got to choose my surgeon as well, another bonus.

Sure, we aren’t perfect. Our ancestors didn’t understand that the indiginous people who lived here and still do have the right to live according to their culture. We’ve apologized for that and are trying to make things better. We accept immingrants for who and what they are and do our best to accept and understand that their culture can enrich this mosaic we call home if we allow it to do so.

We have four seasons–spring, summer, fall, and winter. Everyone has his or her favorites. but I love snow at Christmas, although I’m pretty much done with it afterwards. Bottom line, I’m Canadian and i want to say that way.

This is my home, my Canada. It’s not for sale at any price.

Come back tomorrow to see what I have to say about the letter D. Check out other posts here: MASTER LIST https://tinyurl.com/tauke86z

This is today’s second post. If you are looking for the A to Z Challenge blog, scroll down.

Welcome to the April 2025 IWSG blog. I want to begin by apologizing to everyone for violating the rules of posts lasts month. It will not happen again.

April 2 question – What fantasy character would you like to fight, go on a quest with, or have a beer/glass of wine with?

Fantasy characters in general are a little tricky for me, but if I have to pick one, then it’ll be Wonder Woman. She has everything I could want in a hero. She fights not for personal gain but for truth and justice. She is tough, yet compassionate. In a pantheon of fantasy warriors, she exhibits a sense of honor that I truly admire. I would have loved to get my hands on her lasso of truth when my kids were teenagers. They were prone to lying about where they were going and what they were doing–perfectly normal rite of passage, but it would’ve spared me some worries.

Have a look at what others think of this today. https://www.insecurewriterssupportgroup.com/p/iwsg-sign-up.html

I will miss the May post since I will be recovering from my hip replacement surgery, but I will be back in June!

Welcome to April 2, 2025. Today is Wednesday, or Hump Day as some call it since it comes in the middle of the week. To me, it’s Chicago night, or at least I hope it will be. I’m a big fan of Chicago Med, Chicago Fire, and Chicago PD. I don’t watch daytime television since that’s the time I devote to household chores and my writing. If the day is a nice one, I’ll log off the computer around three and go and sit outside. Depending on my pain level, I may take my wheeled walker and go for a ten-minute walk, which is just about all I can handle, otherwise, I’ll sit and enjoy the sun on my face, letting it fill me with all that wonderful Vitamin D that helps my bones and the rest of me. And speaking of bones, that should be my word for the day, but it isn’t.

B is for better. Have you ever been sick? It doesn’t have to have been something terrible and debilatating, just something that laid you low for a few days. In fact, it doesn’t even have to be an illness. It could be bad news. The first thing people say when they see you, is “How are you feeling? Better?”

These days, I find that question hard to answer. First, as much as my friends and family may be concerned about me, they have no understanding of what that word means because they don’t have a context. Do I feel better? It depends on what you use as a measuring stick. As I rule, I don’t feel better than I did three years ago when I could walk ten thousand steps a day, but I may feel better than I did yesterday, especially when the humidity was in the eighties. Better is a complex word that has no meaning without something to back it up. So, do I feel better today? I do. And I hope to feel even better after my surgery. How are you? Do you feel better today? I hope so.

Here’s you song of the day.

Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. I always feel better with friends around.

Check out other blogs here: MASTER LIST https://tinyurl.com/tauke86z

Welcome to this year’s A to Z April Challenge. As I stated earlier, my posts this year will be based on personal musings. In the process, I hope to reveal a bit about myself, my writing, my hopes, and my fears to you. I hope you’ll enjoy my musings.

Let’s get the show on the road as they say with my post for the letter A, what I call a bookend letter since it starts the alphabet. It also has the distinction of being the only letter that’s a fully recognized word. O may be to some, but only as an interjection, while a is among the most widely used articles in the English language.

A also stands for April, the first full spring month for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere. While it can have snowy weather, usually the precipitation is limited to rain, the rain we need for the flowers to bloom. But this morning, I’m going to introduce you to a wonderful young man.

Antonios is my youngest grandchild, and the baby of the family. When he was younger, he had blond hair with a cute little cowlick in front. Isn’t he a sweetheart? As the youngest of four, he was often unable to participate in activities with his older brother and sisters, One year, while they were all at camp for a week, he stayed with us to give him a vacation, too. We took him to Kingston, Brockville, Ottawa, all cities near home. We would visit museums, animal parks, or just take in the sites. Mid-afternoon, when his little legs got tired, he would turn to my husband and say, “Grandpa, is it time for a beverage yet?”

In those days, we used to go camping during the summer. If we went for a walk around the park, Tonio always had to walk with me because of his short legs. That was where we were when the training wheels came off his bike and he was finally able to keep up with the others. Well, his legs aren’t short now.

At 15, he stands well over six feet tall. He’s in tenth grade, an athlete, an army cadet, following in the footsteps of two of his older siblings, and has a part-time job in a grocery store. This year, he’s trying something different. He will be in a school play and have the only singing role. Would you believe he’ll be playing Elvis?

I have no doubt he will do well since he always succeeds when he puts his mind to it. His next task is to get his learner’s permit for his driver’s license in June when he turns sixteen!

Tonio, as the family calls him, is a master Lego builder. He was only six when he was building sets designed for much older children. He was meticulous in following directions. He still collects and builds sets, but he’s also a gamer, and there are only so many hours in a day! Two years ago, he used those skills to build us a backyard shed.

He’s not a little boy anymore, but he still gives great hugs, even if he does have to bend almost in half to do it.

And, since I promised a musical memory for today, here you go!

I’ll see you tomorrow for the letter B. Have a great day!

Want to see other posts for the challenge? Check out the MASTER LIST https://tinyurl.com/tauke86z

It’s April! The snow has disappeared for the most part, and while the temperature is erratic, spring is definitely in the air. This week, the authors from Tuesday Tales are posting scenes based on the word HARSH. I continue with my Romance/Suspense, And Justice for All.

Today, I have a surprise for you. The book has its cover. Meet Maggie and Harry. Enjoy!

Maggie sighed. Food was the last thing she needed. She wanted to get home, crawl into bed, and bawl her eyes out. Seeing those women had brought back her trauma and so much more. The thought that there was a baby who would never know its mother’s love pierced her.

“I’m not really hungry, but coffee sounds great.”

“Let’s do Tim’s then, but you should eat something, even if it’s just a bowl of soup and a donut.”

“Fine,” she conceded, not in the mood to argue. “Soup’s good … comfort food, even on hot days like this. My mother always said that hot drinks were better than cold ones in the heat. I suppose if you overheat the inside, the outside will feel cooler.”

He chuckled. “Reverse psychology at its best.”

Harry turned into the Tim’s lot and parked the car up close to the building, limiting the distance they would have to walk outdoors in what was sure to still be blistering heat.

The rain had ended, and the sun was making a half-hearted effort to come out from behind the clouds. She’d removed her raincoat and vest earlier, not wanting to wear her sauna-suit inside the vehicle for the ninety-minute ride home. She might be sweating on the outside, but there was ice in her bones and around her heart. She reached for her jacket to cover her gun and opened the door.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

She turned back to look at him. “What? My purse? I thought you were paying.”

“Not your purse, Maggie, your vest. I told you. You need to wear it all the time now; we both do.”

“But it’s cooking out there and with the humidity…”

He shook his head. “No buts. The vest goes on each and every time you’re out in public. That’s an order.”

“What’s to stop some nut-job from just shooting me in the head?” she argued, her tone harsh despite her best effort to control it.

“Nothing, and if I could put you in full SWAT body armor, I would.”

And he probably would if he thought he could manage it. The thought was daunting.

“Well, if he’s using armor piercing bullets, nothing’s going to help.”

She grabbed her vest and pulled it on. She was just being bitchy, and she knew it. She stepped out of the car and into what had to be 90 percent humidity. The air pressed down on her.

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

Welcome to the last post of March. One quarter of 2025 finished. It’s hard to believe. This week, I continue with And Justice for All. Our word prompt is RIDE.

Harry returned to the cabin where she sat, but didn’t say anything. Like her, he was probably trying to add up everything in his head and trying to get an answer that didn’t terrify him. Kelly started the engine. While thunder still rumbled in the distance and the rain continued to fall, there hadn’t been any other forks of lightning.

The ride back to Rockport was a slow solemn one. Instead of docking at Cornwall’s, Kelly drove them to the OPP docks at the shipyard at the eastern edge of the village and straight into a large boathouse where they were out of the rain but away from prying eyes as well.

Harry helped her onto the pier and grabbed the small gaff hanging inside the boat.

“Officer Grant is going to drive three of us to our vehicles in a few minutes. Why don’t you go inside with the others. I’m sure they have coffee. I want to have another look in the boat.”

“Coffee is the last thing I want right now. I’ll wait for you.” He’d thought of something, and she wanted to know what it was. “What are you looking for?”

“That boat was barely moving. I want to know why.”

“You think they slowed down for something.”

“Yeah, and I don’t think it was anyone on a jet ski. I noticed the gaff wasn’t attached to the side of the boat. I think they stopped to get something out of the water. Stay there. No sense in you ruining your shoes, too.”

Harry stepped into the boat and moved over to the port side. His shoes sloshed through the four inches of water in the boat. Using the short gaff, he ran the tip of it along the edges of the boat under the red water.

“I was right.”

“What have you got?” She leaned closer to get a better look.

He pulled the gaff up. Attached to it were the remnants of a few balloon with a long piece of string attached to them.

“Are those helium balloons? Those can be dangerous for waterfowl and other birds.” They had probably been trying to help the environment. “Some poor kid probably lost them.”

“A kid didn’t lose these, Maggie. They’re made of neoprene, not the kind of stuff you fill with helium. I’d say someone anchored them here purposely. Still think I’m wrong about it being our killer?”

She swallowed and shook her head.

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