Living the Dream

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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As someone once said, today is the first day of the rest of your life. In this case, it’s the first day of April, a Wednesday, and the first day of the 2026 A to Z Blogging Challenge. This year, my theme is essentially journaling with an emphasis on memes that shape our lives. Since some of my neighbors still have their Christmas lights up–and turn then on each night–I wondered how many days were left until they would be valid again. The answer is 269! That means there are plenty of spring and summer days ahead. For a second, I wondered!!!

Today’s letter is A. Being the first letter of the alphabet is an awesome responsibility. Every letter that comes after has to live up to the standards it sets. In Canada, it’s not only a letter but a sound associated with everyone who lives here, although truthfully people tend to spell it eh, instead of a which is the way it sounds. Instead of pardon me? when we don’t hear something properly, we’ll say eh? and it’ll sound just like a. We do it so often, that Canadian, eh? seems to just go together naturally. So, when you’re the first letter of the alphabet, and you give your pronunciation to a national identity, the other letters need to step it up. Looking forward to how they’ll do that this year.

A may also stand for awareness. These days, more than ever, we have to be aware of everything–society, our situation, our location, our friends, our family, our enemies, our physical and mental health, even our diet. You name it, we have to be aware of it. Does it mean that we have to be afraid of everything and everyone? No, not at all, but it does mean that we shouldn’t bury our heads in the sand, like people believe ostriches do, and pretend that everything is fine. The world is a mess. Our food supply is often contaminated. Our climate is suffering because of our inaction to prevent cut back on polution and greenhouse gases. But there are good things out there, too. The key is to finding them–the friends who are always there for you, the family that accepts you for who and what you are, the prospect of a nice, warm, sunny spring and summer after a long, cold, snowy winter.

Self-awareness is the most important awareness and should be at the top of everyone’s list. Self-awareness is the ability to clearly and objectively understand one’s own emotions, thoughts, behaviors, strengths, and weaknesses, because only then do all the things around us make sense. How we react to the various elements in our world differs from one person to the next, from one moment to the next. Some days, everything will seem to overwhelm us, but the next day, things will be fine. In my case, the world news directly affects my behavior and the way I react to everything around me, especially my ability to write. A bad news day will affect my sleep and that will affect my attitude and my productivity. So, how do I cope? I search for the grains of good news. They aren’t always easy to find, but if I look hard enough, I will. Awareness and attitude go together and a positive attitude makes all the difference.

A also stands for advice. One of the purposes served by memes is to hand out information to make your life better, and frequently, they use popular figures to help them do so. Today’s advice comes from Ed Sheeran. It’s a reminder that every single day is a fresh start. There’s very little that you can do to make life better if you spend your time wallowing in the mistakes of the past. We’ve all made then, and we’ll continue to do so because as part of the adage says, to err is human. So, forget pefection. Aim for being the best you can be. Let go of the expectations of others, and breathe. Today really is the first day of the rest of your life. Enjoy!

And of course, it only seems right to have Ed perform for us today. Have a great day!

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Welcome to the last post of March 2026. Hope this week will be a pleasant one. Spring is lurking around somewhere. Fingers crossed that she gets the nerve to come out soon! This week, the authors of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt VICTOR. I’m continuing with my cozy mystery, The Case of the Missing Prince. Enjoy. When you finish reading my scene, don’t forget to drop over and visit the others by clicking on the link at the end of the post.

It was just after ten-thirty Mountain Standard Time Friday morning when our plane landed at YCC Calgary International Airport. The men had slept most of the way, while I’d spent time reviewing the list of things we had to do when we got to Calgary. Hallie was frantically trying to locate Carolyn Warden in Montana, but it turned out to be a popular name. As soon as she found her, I would make arrangements for a telephone or online interview with her.

We’d left Ottawa at eight-thirty, but had gained more than two hours despite the four hour and forty minute flight time. We collected our luggage and headed into the Arrivals area. I spotted our driver immediately, the red Stetson Hallie had mentioned was hard to miss.

“Hank McNally?” I approached the man, my suitcase moving easily on its wheels beside me.

He tipped his hat. “Ms. Chambers, I presume?” I nodded. “Pleased to meet you.”

“These are my associates.” I indicated Al, Petrov, and Viktor, each of them pulling their suitcases following me. For a second I considered that I might look like a mother duck with all her ducklings in a row. I smiled. “It’ll be nice to know that we’ll have the same driver for the duration of our time here.”

Hank chuckled. “I’ve worked hard to get the plum jobs, taking on fares none of the others were interested in taking—not that there’s anything wrong with you guys—but an on-demand job, covering a minimum of two weeks, makes it hard to have time for family or anything else. Still, to the victor go the spoils as they say. Kids are all grown and the wife is long gone, so I’m at your beck and call.” His blue eyes twinkled, and he winked. “The advance your company sent was more than generous and will make everything worthwhile.” He pulled a card out of his shirt pocket. “My numbers are there.” He handed it to me. “I’ll be staying at home while you’re in Calgary. My place is about fifteen minutes from your hotel, but apparently I’ll be in the hotel with you in Banff. Never had the wherewithal to stay there, so thank you kindly for that. Now, where to first? I’ve got the list of addresses you want to visit. Lady I spoke with said you’re looking for a missing person.”

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

Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. Spring has sprung–or at least it’s trying to do so, but Father Winter doesn’t appear to be ready to leave. This week, the authors from Tuesday Tales are still plugging away at their stories. I couldn’t keep you guessing too long, stress isn’t all that great, so today, you’ll see what the savvy Mr. Binette found. Enjoy!

I walked back to the living room with a new spring in my step and my hope that this search would be fruitful reborn. I propped the cheek of my ass on the arm of the couch.

“I’ve got the report from the onsite student paramedic from the day of the landslide,” Al’s voice with filled with excitement. “I don’t know how Hallie got her hands on some of this stuff, but if I ever need a number one hacker, I know where to look! It’s almost like a journal entry as if she were keeping notes to make a report, but something struck me, and I’m positive I’m right. Listen to this.” He read aloud from the screen. ‘Patient Carolyn Warden, age 46, tourist from Montana. I checked her over and cleaned a cut on her forehead. No sign of concussion or other injuries. She was agitated and concerned about her husband. I radioed the others on the team and asked if anyone had a Jack Warden. GH found him inside the latrine whose door was blocked by debris. When I informed her of that, she asked if the young couple was okay. I asked her which couple. She said that she didn’t know them but the man was named Sam. He was a climber. I checked the list, but there was no Sam registered. She claimed he was getting ready to go up when a woman with blond hair called his name and hurried over to him. I’m not sure what she said, but he got out of his gear, left everything there and followed her into the brush. I assumed someone they knew was in distress. She was waiting for Jack to get back when the mountain came down on top of them. It’s possible this Sam is one of the unidentified people in the fifteen to twenty number they gave us, someone who registered at the last minute, and in all the excitement the paperwork vanished. Whoever they are, since she didn’t see them come back to the hill, they must’ve escaped unharmed. No one by the name of Sam or a blonde were among the injured.’ What do you think? Could Sam be Stan and the blond Andreea? I don’t remember Viktor mentioning her hair color, but no one would’ve paid any attention to this. They were looking for a missing man, not a couple.”

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