a final goodbye

In two days, the new owners will take possession of the #naturalurbanhome

They will move in, change things around, add their own style and signature and smell to the place, and make it their home. 

As I sit here in the COLD waiting area at my kid's dance studio writing this, I am surprised by how NOT upset I am about this. (Seriously someone needs to turn up the damn thermostat in this place!!)

I went to the house today to do one final walk through every room, one final peak in every drawer and cupboard, and one final exhale in this beautiful house that was our home for the past five years. 

It felt good to be there by myself this morning for this farewell. I wanted to leave the house today and take all of its memories with me, the good ones as well as the not-so-good ones, and hand over the new owners a clean slate and a space free of any negative emotions. 

I do still love this house. I loved who we became as a family in this house. This house of concrete and glass was our literal foundation when our world was falling apart around us and was always a soft landing place to which we could return. It housed our bodies and our souls, and we learned to love deeper and stronger within its walls. 

I love the beautiful pine ceiling in the living area so damn much, and I'll miss my apple martini countertops. My cold feet will miss the in-floor heating the most. (#HintHINT: Someone **ME** needs a really good pair of slippers for Christmas this year!)

I hope the new owners will treat the place well and add to its uniqueness. 

I hope whatever energy and spirit and footprint we have left in the house continues to give its inhabitants strength and love and nothing but good juju. 

Goodbye to you my #naturalurbanhome. 



And thank you. 





GawdDAMMIT! I was hoping I didn't have to write about this AGAIN. 

But here we go....

Have I ever told you about the time my all male management team at the large pharmaceutical company I worked for invited me to the hospitality suite at a Business Conference and when I entered the room I was the only female employee there along with a full size blow up sex doll? 

Or the time my senior manager (same company) followed me to a porta-potty at a different out of town meeting and tried to enter it and I was pulled aside the next day and warned not to say anything to anyone about it?

Or about the time when I was 11 and I was riding my bike with my girlfriend, like kids do around their neighbourhoods, and a guy pulled up in his muscle car to (what we thought) ask for directions, but NO, it was so he could show us his DICK that he had pulled out of his pants? 

Or about the neighbours whom EVERYONE loved because they were the only house on our street that had Super Channel and how the husband would invite kids for sleepovers and to watch movies while his wife worked nights as a nurse. And during those sleepovers he would sexually molest the kids? Yours truly being one of them. 

Or about my Grade 6 teacher who took me into the supply room to console me after I was punched in the gut (by a boy) and who thought trying to kiss and fondle me was the way to do that?

Or the real reason, at 14, I had to quit my first job as a busser at the Steakhouse in St. Albert wasn't because of the smoking like I told my mom, but because of the constant harassment I was getting from the all male kitchen staff? 


Oh forget it. 

Honestly, I have lost track of the times in my life I have been sexually harassed or inappropriately touched or propositioned by MEN. 

Yes, of course #METOO

Ask ANY woman and she will tell you #metoo. And even if she doesn't or can't say it (for reasons that are NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS), I guarantee you, it has happened to her. 


I am reading Alias Grace right now. (Yes, I know it is on TV, but I also don't have Cable anymore and I LIKE BOOKS). Grace is retelling her story to Dr. Jordan and he asks her:

Did {Mr. Kinnear} ever touch you? Did he take liberties?

To which Grace replies, “ Only what was usual, Sir.”
— Alias Grace by Margaret Atwood

Only what was usual. 

Think about that. When I read those lines last night, I had to stop and take a breath. Because if that isn't the truth of this world.... OOF!

This is the culture we have bred into humanity. That woman are to expect a "usual" display from men of sexual, predatory, inappropriate, demeaning behaviour. Especially women they view in their realm of power or having no "social" status, with no recourse to say or do anything to stop them. 



I have seen people criticizing the #MeToo hashtag (or campaign if that is what you want to call it) as just another form of slacktivism. Pop it up on your Twitter or Facebook feed and you're good. You did your part. You said the thing. Now move on. (Don't even get me started on how triggering it is for people to have to constantly tell or re-tell the traumatic events that have happened to them!)

Fine, opinions will be had and those people can have theirs. 

HERE IS MINE. (That's what you came here for right?)

I see #METOO as a fucking RALLYING CRY.


#METOO is a uniting force. A force that should scare the shit out of ALL THE MEN out there who have thought or still think that they are entitled to that "usual" display of predatory behaviour towards women.

To the men (and women) who insist that all of this is simply "locker room talk", or the people who continue to use the phrase "boys will be boys", or who truly believe that men can't be in the same room with women because of their uncontrollable urges,  I say WATCH YOUR FUCKING BACKS!


We will name NAMES. 

We will CALL YOU OUT. 

We are NOT going to be AFRAID. 

YOU will be shamed. NOT US. 

We will not be ashamed of the things that were DONE TO US. 

We are not as some have said, claiming some sort of "victim mentality" and wanting validation as such. (Also - FUCK YOU! Victim blamer/shamers.)

#METOO means that we are done believing the men who are doing these things are more important than we are. 

#METOO means that we refuse to live in a world where 5, 10, 20 years from now our own daughters are saying the same fucking thing!


And just so you know, I have been watching "The 100" on Netflix (totally BINGE-WORTHY show BTW) and as I write this, I am imagining myself as Clarke or Lexa saying this to an ARMY OF #METOO-ers as we are about to attack our enemies with the full force of our might!

And as the Grounders Say...

Blood must have Blood!

Blood must have Blood!

#METOO is not about being a victim, it is about showing the world that we are an army of survivors, OF FIGHTERS, of truth sayers, and WE WILL NOT BE STOPPED.







For more important reading to stoke the fires for this rage battle, please read:

At what point do women simply burn it all to the ground? by Janelle at Renegade Mothering


next level rage stroke: harvey-fucking-weinstein by KatyKatiKate





I am still here. Lately I have been writing all my thoughts....

Well, nowhere really.

I could say it's been mostly in my head, but my writing coach (@renegademothering) would say NO, that is #NOTWRITING, that is just thinking. So, right now, I suppose I am not a writer, I am a thinker. And believe me, I have lots of great "think pieces" up in there! LOL 

I am by the way, also about to have another orthopedic surgery. 

Like tomorrow. 

Seriously. Getting my right knee totally replaced this time. You know, to match the left one! (I like symmetry.)

And then I am done for a long time. (Crosses ALL THE THINGS!)

Can I tell you all something? 

Three major surgeries in one year is A LOT. Yes, I know, technically and for the most part, these are elective surgeries, and I am choosing to do this, but that fact doesn't diminish the impact these procedures have on my body, my psyche, and my family. I am not going to lie. It has been tough. For all of us. 

I've become an expert at detecting each of my family member's levels of anxiety and their respective coping mechanisms, and trying to support them in a compassionate way while also keeping my own levels in check. This too has been hard and I thank the Goddess for my anti-anxiety meds and my summer discovery of a new favourite wine (but not at the same time of course!). Also, DO NOT @ me about drinking!

On the bright side, we have officially sold the #NaturalUrbanHome. FINALLY! I have avoided going back to the old house since we moved in to the #SleeperHouse in the spring, but now, I feel like I have to go back before we hand over the keys and say a proper farewell to the house that we thought was our "Dream Home". It's funny how dreams and life and priorities change, isn't it? 

I am looking at this time in my life (and this surgery in particular) as a new beginning, or perhaps the end of the new beginning. Does that make sense? I have plans people and I need to have a fully functioning body to execute them. You have no idea how much I am looking forward to the simple act of walking with NO PAIN. It's been a good 20 odd years, I think I am due. And I have a feeling that once I start, I won't stop. 

People keep asking me if I am excited about my surgery and in a way I guess I am. I mean, I am not SUPER excited for the surgery itself and the pain afterwards and the catheter thingy they put in because of the spinal anaesthesia and not having a proper shower for three days and the hospital food (aside from the mashed potatoes - I would eat those for breakfast, lunch and dinner if they let me!). 

I am excited for what the surgery means to me.

An end and a beginning. 




See you on the flip side my friends!



P.S. Have I mentioned that I want a record player? 'Cause I really, REALLY do.

So when I say "See you on the flip side", I WILL LITERALLY MEAN IT while I play some vintage ABBA on my turntable!