I feel about airplanes the way I feel about diets.  It seems to me that they are wonderful things for other people to go on.  [Jean Kerr]

So, you may wonder what kind of workaholic nut posts journals in her absence.  But my reason is that I truly do value your regular visits.  I have favourite blogs that I stopped visiting because I would become so disappointed when there were seemingly never new entries!  So, rather than risk doing that to you - although I know you understand that I need time off, as you do - I'm posting here while we're away.

So why "blog", anyway?  I'll tell you - it's something I've been doing here at erindavis.com for over five years and I've often said that this website helped bring about my return to CHFI.  After we parted ways that summer, people knew where to find me, where to find out details on what was going on with Rob, Lauren and me, and we were able to stay connected.  In that way, it was a godsend.  But it turns out there may be other benefits to keeping diaries, and I'm not just talking about daily journals.

According to a story that The General passed me from healthzone.ca a few weeks ago, it can do you a lot of good...and not just in terms of exercising your creativity.

Joseph Hall writes:

It won't burn many calories on its own, but if you're looking to lose weight, the most important exercise you can do is to pick up a pen and write.

Dieters can increase their weight loss twofold by simply keeping a daily diary of what they eat, a large new U.S. study says.

"The more food records you keep, the more weight you lose," says psychologist Victor Stevens, senior investigator with the Kaiser Permanente Centre for Health Research in Portland, Ore. and a study co-author. "And the good news is that's a technique that anyone can use."

The study will be published in the August edition of the American Journal of Preventive Medicine. The 20-week study was part of a three-year research program that involved some 1,700 overweight people who were placed on fruit- and vegetable-rich diets.

It showed that people who kept no daily food records lost an average of four kilograms, while those who kept six or more per week lost an average of eight kilograms.

Stevens says a diary makes it plain to dieters where it would be easiest to cut out calories. "You would think people would know ... where the extra calories are coming from, but they don't," Stevens says.

"At the end of the day ... you say, `Where did you eat too much?' and they don't know."

The diaries were simple tabulations of what you ate, the quantity, and the calories each item contained, Stevens says. "And you look at that list and say `Well, wow, I can reduce the calories in my lunch, that would be easy.'

"Then they develop plans to deal with that. And that's a critical part of the process. You need a specific plan of action, rather than some vague notion that you'll just eat less."

And keeping track of food intake as the day goes on also allows dieters to see how well they are keeping to their plans, Stevens says.

Stevens also says dieters who attempt weight loss within a social network are also much more successful at dropping excess pounds.

The study found that each social session study dieters attended – where they would discuss their successes and failures – was worth 0.3 kilograms in extra weight loss.

"So one session doesn't make that much difference, but if you look at 10 sessions, that's three kilos."

Stevens says discussing plans and showing your diaries, and the failures they may contain, to others can actually guilt people into significantly greater weight loss.

It makes sense that keeping a record of what you consume could change your eating habits, says Diane Finegood, scientific director of The Institute of Nutrition, Metabolism and Diabetes at the Canadian Institutes of Health Research.

"A lot of what we do about eating is mindless," says Finegood. "If you keep a monitor on behaviour, then it's a lot easier to change that behaviour in quantifiable ways."

Stevens says exercise pales in importance to diary keeping, especially in the early stages of weight loss.

"Keeping track of what you eat is so much more important than exercise," he says.

He says the study's goal was to reduce calories by 500 a day, far easier to achieve through dieting than exercise. Stevens says exercise becomes more critical in maintaining weight loss once the initial pounds have been cast off.

The study was also conducted by researchers at Duke University and The University of Alabama.

In the meantime, I want to tell you that thanks to Jill the Kill at the gym, I have been keeping a daily journal (and weight chart) for the past month.  Although I began regular weekly and semi-weekly workouts with her in April, it wasn't until I began a cleanse and also began keeping track of everything I ate that I finally shed 10 pounds (and counting).  So the diary thing works.  Be honest, be diligent and you'll be so glad that you did!

Have a great day (and no, I'm not chowing down on chimichangas as you read this while I'm in Mexico) - and we'll be back with you here tomorrow!

Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.  [William Morris]

Welcome in - and thanks for coming by.  I hope you're enjoying this week's shows on CHFI without Mike and me - I do know you're in very good hands.  And don't forget that it's "Two-Fer Tuesday", so get collecting those points.  Some of our CHFI trip winners from the past are banking them like crazy so that they can try to win with us again this fall.  I can't tell you where we're going just yet, but I can guarantee you that it'll be luxurious, fun and a week you will never, ever forget.

I'm always amazed at the number of listeners/winners who get up to start the show with us at 6 am when we broadcast live from the tropics.  It's not like we make them, but we do toss in a few bonus points for those who join us a certain number of mornings a week.  In turn, Mike, The General and I get to enjoy the treat of having a live audience.  That's not to say that radio listeners are anything but alive, but you know what I mean!

Can I share a barbecue tip with you today?  I wouldn't usually say my name and "good chef" in the same breath, but I stumbled upon something that I didn't want to wait another day to fill you in on.

You know that last year I bought a Crock Pot, and we started to simmer our way to healthy, really yummy meals.  For someone who gets up from a nap around 5 pm and rarely feels like making dinner, it makes perfect sense.  But then I came up with something - and I'm sure someone else has, too - that has really got us cooking at the cottage.  For that matter, this has also been a big success in the condo where we use our electric indoor grill for the same results.

I enjoy poultry on the BBQ, but generally I'll microwave or precook it before we grill it for the final few minutes.  In this case, we'll talk turkey - thighs are our favourite; at about $2.00 each, they're a great deal, filling and tasty!  Now, instead of marinating the turkey (my favourite is the Mesquite packet of mix in the Club House spice section - try your favourite with lamb, pork, beef, etc.) I mix up the package with more water than it calls for, and let it simmer for a few hours in the Crock Pot!  Then, before it falls off the bone or is totally cooked, you put it on the barbecue, brush on your favourite sauce, and voilà!  A completely cooked and wonderful taste of summer.  I LOVE that!

You're going to have to improvise the liquid amounts.  If you have more than four turkey thighs, you can add another packet and double the water and oil.  But to me, it's a no brainer and almost foolproof.  Enjoy - and have a great time grilling!

Thanks for coming by while I'm away; I'll be back here tomorrow.

A vacation is like love - anticipated with pleasure, experienced with discomfort, and remembered with nostalgia.  [Author Unknown]

Hey there - thanks for coming by.  I'm glad that you did - seeing as how Mike and I aren't on the air this week - and I have two weeks of journals for you here.  I hope you'll stop in and collect your bonus points, too.

So, how's the weather?  That's something I wasn't willing to gamble on this summer so I'll tell you just how it is that Rob and I came to be in Mexico, which is where we are today as you read this.

Back in 1992, Lauren was just 15 months old, Rob and I were looking at a week's vacation in July, and the weather was exceptionally cruddy.  I don't know if you remember it; the skies were gray, it was chilly and it seemed to rain incessantly.  I recall saying on the air that month, "I wouldn't want to be putting in a pool this year," and I also remember getting a very angry phone call or fax from someone in the pool business who said that my careless aside caused them a drop-off in business.  (While I think the weather and not my mouth had more to do with that, I learned a valuable lesson to think out the consequences of what I say, every single time.  At least I try....)

Anyway, Rob and I decided to do something we'd never done: we booked a week at Sandals in Jamaica (Dunn's River Falls) to get away from the wet, wearying weather.  But what to do with Lauren?

Fortunately, my folks lived just down the 401 in Brighton then.  We took Lauren, dropped her off with few tears and no trepidation at all, and with a "Whee!" heard 'round the world, headed to Jamaica.  It was a vacation we've never forgotten and it got us forever hooked on Sandals, an experience I'm thrilled that we share every year now with CHFI listeners.

When we got back, it wasn't to the sadness of the end of vacation, but to the glee of seeing our little girl again.  But she sure did change during that week with Gram and Granddad.  We couldn't believe our eyes when we walked in the door: the little 15-month-old who was talking a blue streak and bright as a whip, but who refused to walk, was now not only walking but running!

It seems that every time she looked upwards, arms stretched high over her head and said, "Uppy!  Uppy!" Mom and Dad weren't scooping her up.  Instead, they made her get off her little butt and walk.  Now, to be fair, we'd seen her First Step before we left, but she kind of showed she could do it, then sat back down to work on her calculus.

That was a homecoming we'll never forget.  We're coming home to a baby who's not walking or running but DRIVING this time; she's having her first Young Drivers of Canada in-car lesson today.  Boy, that shows how time flies, huh?

Enjoy your day and thanks for coming by.  Let's make today's code Young Drivers; enjoy the points and come on back tomorrow.

Well, here it is Friday and we're finally getting a real taste of Toronto in July: the smog advisories, heat alerts and all of that.  It wasn't a surprise yesterday when I heard that tourism is lagging in areas to the north of metro, usually referred to as "cottage country".  After all, the soggiest June since 1999 and high gas prices seem to be curtailing people's plans to camp, cottage or hit the open road.  It's too bad.  So many peoples' and communities' winter survival depends on summer income.

Every summer Rob and I make it a practice to explore places we've never been, taking advantage of two weeks to go to far flung spots.  This time it's the Mayan Riviera in Mexico.  Although it's the rainy season, the weather there is promising to be hot and pleasant and any hurricanes you may hear about are usually on the other coast of the country.  We hope!

In a nice bit of continuity with the last time we traveled, we're seeing pyramids again.  This time it's not Egypt, it's Chichen Itza and the work that the Mayans were doing several centuries after the Egyptians had pretty much packed away their tools.  But I'm looking forward to exploring the energy vortices; so far Rob and I have experienced them in Egypt and Sedona and I'm told that Chichen Itza is another site well known for them.

I've found it interesting that a few people have told me, "be careful!" when we're in Mexico.  I haven't really been alarmed by the stories of the tragic  murders of the Ianieiros of Woodbridge, or the deaths of young men who were either beaten or victims of hit and runs that made the news in the past year.  We will be careful and hope that Mexican tourism is as alarmed as Canadians have been about the stories of violence coming out of their otherwise friendly country.

We're going to completely unwind, to find seclusion and to get back in touch with ourselves and each other.  We have a busy and exciting autumn coming.  The latest BBM ratings (released on Monday) show us that with CHFI at the top of the Toronto radio mountain once again (and with our highest numbers since Mike and I teamed up at 98.1), we're on the right track, thank you VERY much.  We just want to keep giving you what you want, day in and day out.  And to do that, we need some time to rewind, rejuvenate and just get centred again.  For me, that means warmth, a lot of workouts, dead quiet and no internet.  Rob will bring this trusty red Dell, but I'm going to try my darnedest to stay away from it.

In the meantime, I've got two weeks' worth of journals ready for you here, and some bonus codes, too.  Tish, Darren, Ian and Gord will give you a great show each morning, and we'll all reunite on Simcoe Day Monday August 4th at the Jays/A's game as we perform the anthems.  Be sure to stick around for the evening fireworks too!  And next morning we'll talk to you bright and early at 5 am.  Can't wait to go away, can't wait to get back to you.  What a nice place to be.  Thanks for being here.

Welcome in - and thanks for coming by.  Counting today, two more shows and then Mike and I will take two weeks to literally recharge our batteries, but we have BRAND NEW Wise Guys each morning at 7:10 and I promise you journals here each day, too, Mondays through Fridays.  I'll be tucking in a few bonus words so that you can cash in at the CHFI Loyalty Club as well.  Just thought I'd give you the heads up and you can shop around, use your points and maybe win a 2008 Suzuki Grand Vitara come September, or $1000 gas card each Friday morning.

Yesterday's heat provided a great excuse to get some "indoor exercise".  Because Lauren and I are on our own this week while Rob entertains two of his three siblings at our cottage, Loo and I decided to have a girls' day out.  That is, after I'd done my day's work and before she had to punch in for hers.  So we had about six hours to fit in lunch at the food court and some shopping.

Honestly, I don't make time for much shopping at all; the only time I buy new clothes is when I have an event or an occasion - and those are usually work related as when we tore in and out of Freda's last week to find some tops for me to wear in our new TV ads.

Loo and I rode the air conditioned subway to and from the Eaton Centre, where our first job was to look for some new work clothes for her.  She's been serving coffee in pretty much the same threads for a year, so it was time.  (Although isn't that what HER bank account is for???)  The highlight of my own shopping day was finding some gorgeous summer dresses for 40% off at The Bay.

Little did I know, at the moment we were shopping there, the news was coming out that Lord & Taylor out of the US was going to be taking over Canada's oldest retailer.  I'm not sure if or how it'll change the stores we know - some Lord and Taylors will expand into Canada and take over some Bay stores, I hear - but HBC was already in American hands, so it's not like we'll be seeing the red, white & blue wherever we turn.  I seem to recall enjoying L&T when shopping in the US, but found it a little above my price range.

At any rate, I sure enjoyed both the prices and the service Lauren and I shared.  Three beautiful women working in one of the ladies' wear departments were making me laugh, wondering when I'm bringing Mike Cooper in to meet them!  I must remember to tell him to come shopping with his wife Debbie and me, some time.  I promise that this time he won't be sorry if we just leave him in the sitting area.

Another highlight was - believe it or not - bathing suit shopping.  (No, they weren't on sale...)  Now, I know that trying on tops, bottoms and single-piece suits is usually about as enjoyable as shaving your head with a cheese grater, but I found a super helpful young woman at Bikini Village who not only knew what would look good on my bod, but was cheerful, discreet and a real pleasure to do business with.  Of course I had Lauren to give me the really honest appraisals, but what a nice experience the whole visit was.  Thanks, Tansy!  Just goes to show you what a difference really good service makes.  If I can come out of a Bikini Village with a smile on my face, somebody's doing her job right.

Have a great day and stay cool.  Remember, this is what we dreamed of (and spent a lot of money to enjoy in southern locales) back in the brutal winter of 2007/08.  There's much for which to be grateful....

Welcome to Wednesday.  Wasn't yesterday just a slice of summer perfection?  I was more than a little envious of Rob, who's up north entertaining his brother and sister for a few days.  They're doing a little bonding, telling lots of stories, drinking some beer and laughing a lot.  Not a bad way to spend a few summer days, huh?  (And despite the above quote, they get along just fine!  The sentiment just appealed to my darker side.)

Last evening, Mike and I got to spend some time enjoying the greenery of Angus Glen.  No, we weren't golfing (he only does it on weekends and I have eschewed it entirely until some post-radio time when I can really try to get good at it) but we were emceeing the awards portion of a tournament.  Now, due to time constraints and simple geography we turn down requests to do an awful lot of these wonderful fundraisers, but given that it's the Childhood Cancer Foundation and that CHFI helped them raise a big chunk of money last December during our 12 Days of Christmas, we agreed it would be a nice way to show our support.

And it was.  A great dinner, super people and just a lot of inspiration.  Plus, Mike and I got to spend some time together which - believe it or not - we enjoy even after sharing four hours each morning!

Despite some envy about Rob being at the cottage this week, I have to confess that I've had a nice time here in the city just spending one-on-one time with Lauren.  My young "working girl" got up at 4 am with me yesterday to go to her own job; she has had the opening shift at the local coffee shop for the past two days.

Another confession: it's given me a great deal of pleasure to witness her getting up at my usual alarm time, and then be zonked and ready for a nap come afternoon.  (In fact on Monday she went for her snooze at about 2 pm; I had to go in and shake her awake at 7 pm so that she didn't have trouble getting back to sleep for the next day's shift!)  Yep - welcome to my world, little one.

Today we're going to do a little bonding which is actually an unspoken arrangement that will see her spending time with me if I will spend money on her.  Yes, we're going shopping together and I am hoping to be brave enough to buy a two-piece bathing suit for Mexico.  Semi-weekly training sessions in addition to the yoga and cardio I've been doing have helped me to work off 10 lb in the last two months, but more importantly, it's toning parts that definitely need toning - which is all of 'em.  Rob's insisting I get brave and buy a bikini.  (Not sure about that; we'll see how the lighting in the stores is today.)  I'll never have Gwyneth Paltrow's body, but that's why they make wraps, right?

Have a great day, stay cool and we'll be back here with you tomorrow.

Welcome to Tuesday.  A wind chill in JULY?  That is sure what it felt like yesterday.  But a story that broke in the afternoon literally gave me goose bumps.  And I'll tell you why.

A woman in her 50's died yesterday on the streets of Toronto doing something we all do every day - she was crossing the street on a green light.  Not a flashing green (which people with their heads up their butts do cross on, despite the "no walk" sign), but on a green.  Her light.  Now, as the story unfolds, it appears that a black BMW that may have been involved just moments earlier in a minor collision, ran a red and allegedly mowed down this woman.  Whatever the details, she's dead because someone didn't stop on a red light at Coxwell and Danforth and let her cross.  That part of this city is almost my neighbourhood and the story hits very close to home in more ways than one.

I've told you that Mike and I live in the Bloor and Jarvis area; we cross busy Bloor on our way home and literally take our lives in our hands almost daily.  You see, there's a T where Jarvis ends at Bloor.  Northbound drivers with a green light turn right onto Bloor  - often completely oblivious to pedestrians who are crossing with a green, but with great trepidation.  And no wonder.  A vast majority of drivers are on their phones or otherwise distracted; we on foot don't stand a chance.

Then, of course, there are the cyclists who barrel along Bloor going westbound and figure that a large driveway to a private business (Manulife) on the north side doesn't merit that red light they face.  So they go - and at the peril of pedestrians.

In the past two years since we've lived right downtown, Mike and I have witnessed many near misses, but Mike's seen one of those cyclists hit a pedestrian, and has put his hands on car hoods more times than he can count.  He yells, "Stop!  Just stop!" so that the driver sees how close he or she has come to hitting a person or in the case of a young mother and her stroller just last week, a family.  (As it happens, the mother had on an iPod and was completely oblivious to how close she and the baby came to being in real danger.  Good reason to keep your ears open, I'd think...)

At any rate, that's the story of where we live.  Crazy busy traffic, complete self-absorption and plain stupidity make up a lethal cocktail that is going to take a toll in our own neighbourhood one of these days.  Lauren, our daughter crosses that same busy street to get to her job most days, too.  That's just another reason for us to be scared and to remind her to always, always, always avoid being on the phone while she crosses there, and to check again and again for cars that aren't paying attention.

This is not in any way to blame the woman who got hit yesterday - do not for a moment think that I am saying that.  I am just reiterating that it is a jungle on the streets of Toronto - two cop cars were hit by other cars on the weekend for heaven's sake - and pedestrians are endangered every single day, more than anyone else.

Please be careful.

Good morning and welcome to Monday.  Bastille Day.  Good day to go storm something, mais non?

I've started working on journals for the two weeks that Mike and I are taking off.  While my laptop will be with me (the place we're going has free internet, dammit!) I shall fight the temptation to go online except to write back and forth to Lauren.  In fact, I may just ask Rob to delve in daily to my work account and clear out the garbage - the absolute garbage - that somehow keeps eluding whatever safeguards are in place and getting to my inbox.  Enough already!  I don't need penis enlargement or a fake Rolex, got it?

The subject lines in some of the spam out there makes you wonder.  I mean, if you're going to promise people that their lives will change (and I'm not talking about the watch come-ons here) shouldn't you bother to write it so that the text isn't just ridiculous - and inadvertently hilarious?  I mean, they claim to be able to improve the lives of men; what about the pitch?  "Girls laughing you always - be big woman man NOW!"

Rob's had a big problem in that department - OH STOP IT!  I mean, the spam!  He's installed a terrific freeware program called Spamihilator, which doesn't stop spam, but sorts messages so that almost everything it picks up can just be dumped.  But now those clever spammers have thwarted him by using MY address to send him junk.  Of course, he can't just delete anything from his beloved, so he's sunk.  If only as much thought and effort went into solving world problems like hunger and Pamela Anderson's reunion with Tommy Lee!

Speaking of celebrities you care minimally about - did you hear the story last week that David Lee Roth was pulled over while speeding near Brantford, Ontario, and taken to hospital due to a peanut reaction?  Well, guess what?  The whole thing is a fake.  Actually, the story is true, but the guy was a fake; the real DLR was nowhere near Brantford and this appears to have been an impersonator who - while he really did have a reaction - gave police a fake name, got treated at hospital (with what health card?) and surfaced at a bar with two ladies on his arms later that evening.  The story's here in the Hamilton Spectator and it's well worth the read.  Seems not just the OPP got duped - the entire media did too.  But as the real Diamond Dave says, "The only thing I'm allergic to is criticism."

On that note - have a good day and keep your sunny side up.

Good morning - and welcome to what looks from here to be a pretty nice weekend.  Tough typing with fingers crossed, but we'll try....

Well, I hope you enjoyed yesterday's show with Michelle Butterly, plus Ian and Gord.  I actually got to listen to CHFI in the morning for a change; we were up at 7 am, out by 8:20 and on our way to our commercial shoot site, in the Lawrence and Dufferin area of the city.  Michelle did a great job pinch-hitting for Mike and me, and of course she has two the best sidekicks any gal (or guy) could ever ask for.  So I know you were in good hands.

As for Mike and me, we had a long but really good day.  It seemed like the shots and the situations we found ourselves in were really just flowing.  Now, don't get me wrong - getting fun and funny scenarios out of these spots is hardly ever like pulling teeth.  But yesterday it felt like we were in our zone and just having a lot of laughs with some really great people.  Thank you to Anna Maria Da Silva for inviting us to her store and there's a funny story behind how that came to be, too.

She saw on the CHFI website that we were asking listeners if they'd like us to visit (and shoot ads in) their workplace.  Because her computer had been down for a bit, she saw the mention and entered her store a couple of days past the deadline.  But when our creative team saw her e-mail, they loved what she was putting down, so they called her.  She was so shocked and asked for a day to ask the store owners if it would be okay!  By the end of yesterday she was shocked again - but more like shell-shocked, I think - from the length of the shoot and all that was involved, but overall she and everybody who took part in the day with us ended up pretty happy.  I can't wait to share the ads with you.

There was one not-so-amusing moment, when I went to answer the call of nature and it may have ended up costing more than a pay toilet ever will!

I was wearing a tiny microphone which had been snaked up under my sweater and rested on the edge of a tank top, right between "the girls".  The wire went straight down to my belly button, across my waistline and into a mic pack that was hooked on to the back of my jeans.  Well, when the call of nature came, I thought there was enough wire that I could forego unhooking the mic pack.  I was wrong.

As soon as I went to sit, I heard a very ominous sound - the clunk of the small card deck-sized pack dropping back behind me and plopping right into the shallow water of our trailer's little toilet.

You've never seen anyone jump up so fast.  I gasped, grabbed the mic pack and proceeded to wipe it off with paper towels.  However, when it wasn't working as it should during our next scene, I had to 'fess up to what had happened.  My being a doofus may have cost us between a few hundred (what our guy says) and four or five thousand (what their guy says) dollars, so I'm praying it dries out and that all is forgiven.  But I still can't believe the thing ended up in the bowl.  You can bet I didn't have any more water all day long.

Well, that's it for me for now...and thank you to the great journal readers who added to yesterday's suggestion re: glasses at the hair salon.  One suggested rather than drugstore specs, you get a few pair at the Dollar Store, and then you don't care if they get gunked up!  Another suggested putting Vaseline on the arms of your glasses - that protects them, too.  As usual, you know way more than I do, and I am grateful that you share your wisdom!

Have a terrific weekend and we'll talk to you here on Monday.  Thanks for coming by and sharing some time with me.

Erin

Well, unless you visited here yesterday, you may be a little surprised that Mike and I aren't on the air this morning.  We have a good excuse, we promise; we're shooting our latest round of CHFI ads.  Let's see now...our past spots have included visiting a family and sharing their barbecued dinner (and pool), dropping in on a wonderful farm family and getting our hands dirty with the chores (and of course, riding their horses), going to a skating rink and learning a thing or two from some talented kids and most recently, taking over at a bakery in Newmarket and having lots of fun with everyone we encountered.

Mike and I are very excited to be taking the ads to a whole 'nother level, and although it'll be a long day today, it promises to be worth it.  We're back on the show with you tomorrow.  Enjoy Michelle Butterly, Ian and Gord.  Two Wise Guys and a very Wise Gal, for sure.  She's a lot of fun, Michelle is.

You know, I began to tell you this before I started my Williams-Sonoma serenade yesterday...in praise of things you didn't know you needed.  Well, I saw something yesterday that I definitely DO need and all it took was a little good ole fashioned ingenuity.

As you quite likely know, once you hit 40, the eyes go.  You find words on the page are harder to make out (and don't we all know how small the print is - especially on food boxes, pill bottles and anything else that you're really desperate to get info on) and yep - you relent and buy glasses.

Maybe you don't go whole hog and get a good pair at the optometrist; perhaps, like me, you dabble in the funky section at the stationery boutique or even settle for a more practical pair that you can throw in your gym bag or toss into a drawer at work without worrying too much about them.

Then...you graduate to the progressive lenses or invisible bifocals, so you can see through the clear lens at the top, but read at the bottom, without having to look over the tops of your glasses like Mother Goose.  I've had a hard time adjusting to wearing glasses again for two reasons.  One: I had surgery in 1992 so that I wouldn't have to wear them; it wasn't laser, it was a method called radial keratotomy and although it worked well for me, I'd hoped against all odds, that I might be spared reading glasses.  And two: some of us have the idea that reading glasses make us look "old".  And if that's in direct conflict with the idea that we're fitter, happier and just better than ever, it's hard to swallow.

Anyway, to my story.  I'm at the hair salon on Tuesday and as usual getting the little foil thingies put on for highlights.  I'm parked under the super modern light wave dryer (or whatever it is that nukes my hair without blowing hot air on me) and basically forced to leaf through magazines, gazing at the ads and pictures.  Why?  Because I can't risk getting hair colour on the arms of my glasses, that's why.  Then I look over to a woman at another hair nuker, and she's got her glasses on, but the arms are wrapped in foil!

Yes, her stylist twisted the same foil squares you'd use for highlights around the arms of the woman's glasses so that she could read and not get hair gunk all over them.  I'd wondered why salons didn't just have junky readers for clients; this is an even better idea.  Next time I go, I'll take along those pharmacy readers, wrap the arms in foil and get caught up on the latest Vanity Fair exposé instead of looking at glossy shots of purses I wouldn't be caught dead paying $1000 for.

So there you go - how one woman's highlights provided a highlight for my day: a brilliant solution to a problem some of us (or maybe a lot of us) have just started having.

Talk to you here (and on CHFI) tomorrow!

Hey there - welcome to Wednesday. We sat last night on the couch munching our chicken salads, watching the storm as it drifted from the west in Brampton until it sat right over us for a good hour-and-a-half.  The lightning was brilliant in flashes and forks and we were reminded of one of the best parts of summer here in Ontario - the thunderstorms.  Best, that is, if you're weren't caught out in it.  We heard the sad news this morning about a man being killed by lightning at Christie Pits, the third person struck in our area this year, I think.  Can you remember so many people being hit in such a short period?

We're getting ready to shoot our new CHFI ads tomorrow and I'll tell you more as I get the green light to do so, but we're really excited about yet another very cool setting.  So, in addition to picking out wardrobe (which actually consists of a visit to Freda's on Bathurst at King to choose a few bright, simple pullover V-necks) I decided I'd freshen up my hair cut and colour.  Off I went to the salon for a few hours yesterday after the show.

On the way there, I stopped in at Williams-Sonoma on Bloor Street, the kitchen store filled with stuff you didn't know you needed.  I mean, I went in there for a lemon juicer and came out with pastel-coloured spatulas (including a couple of mauve ones for our music director who is passionate for purple!), two juicers (one for the cottage) and a really neat manual food chopper.  So much for just going in for one item.

But that store has the ability to really spark one's imagination.  I mean, for me, the kitchen is a pretty functional place; I'd no more go in there to have fun than I would, say, the laundry room.  But when I'm in any kitchen or appliance store I find myself suddenly looking at all of those matching pots and pans, those German knives and nifty stainless steel gadgets and think, "Man!  If I only had a (insert fancy item here), why, I'd be the Barefoot Contessa, Jamie Kennedy and Rachel Ray all rolled into one!"

Then the needle rips off the record and I'm jarred back to reality.  My inner voice says to me, "Sista, that ain't gonna happen unless you start downloading recipes or watching a little more foodie tv."  Luckily for me, if I want a complete listing of shows, times and content, all I have to do is talk to Lauren.  Ever since she was a kid she's been hooked on cooking television.  I liken it to adult movies and Rob - if he chose to watch them, which he doesn't - you can just look all you want, but that ain't never gonna happen in our house!

So I'll stick to my new pink spatulas and shiny lemon juicer (the old fashioned "push and turn" kind - no electric Breville for me!) and pretend that if I just had all of those things, I might be sparked to let my inner Child (named Julia, of course) come out to play.  In the meantime, a simple salad with leftover cottage-grilled chicken is just fine by me.  And that lemon juice on top?  Let me tell you!  It was lemony.  Juicy.  And, believe it or not, I made it myself.

Erin

Welcome to Tuesday - and thanks, first off to Rob for filling my shoes here on the journal.  He explained yesterday why I couldn't write it and I'm really glad he got a chance to rave a bit to you about Steely Dan at Rama on Friday night.  After all, I'd been hearing those kudos all weekend.

Man, I have got some kind of summer fever - and I mean that in a good way; I just love the heat.  Turns out there's a reason for it: an experiment with my trainer-cum-nutritionist Jill the Kill has established that never, ever does my temperature reach 37 C (or 98.6 F).  So now I have a reason for wearing socks in bed - and it's not just 'cause they're dead sexy!

Yesterday Rob and I had tandem appointments at the dermatologist's.  Rob's been seeing one for quite some time and I just figured that at this point in my life I should have a "ground zero" for my tanned and speckled body.  Yep - Rob and I have so many freckles and moles between us, that Lauren should have just been a little brown baby.  Instead, she has lots of 'em too, and in these days of UVA and UVB rays and everything else bombarding our cells from without and within, it's good to keep an eye on everything.

I got a good (and deserved) talking-to about being in the sun; it's stuff I've known for 20 years.  But I also learned a few things I wanted to share with you today.

1 in 31 North Americans now is being diagnosed with melanoma.  Not just the cancerous mole thing that we all kind of watch out for (changing shapes, changing colours, and asymmetry) but the kind that can kill.  We're supposed to know our bodies.  We do monthly breast exams - or are told to - but how many of us have a sort of mental map of our bodies and how many moles or freckles are there, and what they look like?  Think about it next time you're in the shower, or standing in front of a mirror.  Get to know your moles!

And one other thing.  The number of moles on your feet and your bum can be warning signs for a dermatologist!  Up to two on your foot and five on your buttocks are considered the norm; anything else is a warning that you could be susceptible to melanoma.  Isn't that fascinating?  I thought so.

Oh, and if a family member has been diagnosed with it - you're also at risk.  That bit of news led us to call my dad from the examining room to ask about something he had removed several years ago!

After our thorough scanning, we headed straight to the pharmacy to buy better sunscreen.  Get to know those spots and dots, and make sure your partner knows your back and you, his or hers.  The slightest change in colour or shape of one you already have (even a little tiny one on your leg, like the one Rob had diagnosed as cancerous) can be dangerous.  Click here for more information on skin cancer and how to detect it.  You could be very glad you did!

Happy Monday!?  Erin's Journal is brought to you today by Rob; as today's quote suggests, we had a bit of a mishap on Friday.

It's often wonderful when you've been with someone so long that many communications go unspoken.  Unfortunately, though, sometimes too many.  When we landed at the cottage on Friday afternoon and unpacked the car, Erin casually asked where her laptop was.  We stood there and looked at each other and realized that this was one of those occasions where each of us thought the other was looking after it.  In truth, I'm more to blame, as I'd taken the trouble to unplug the power supply and pack it, but forgot the next logical step.

Anyway, the net result was a laptop-free weekend - not altogether a bad thing - and, since we came straight down from God's country this morning, I get to write today's journal.

If you don't mind, I thought I'd share a musical experience with you.  I don't go to many concerts; I can probably count on my fingers and toes the number I've attended in my life.  On Friday morning, Erin called home to remind me that Steely Dan was playing at Casino Rama that evening, in case I was interested.  I let the suggestion roll around inside my head for much of the day, then decided to make a call in the afternoon to see if I could get a ticket.

After receiving a negative response initially, I checked back after a couple of hours and learned that they had come up with a ticket for me (thanks in part to my many past donations to the casino, I'm sure).  At any rate, I headed up the highway to Orillia in time to pick up my ticket and go to the show.

If you haven't been to a concert at Rama before, it's generally a good experience.  While the theatre itself isn't much to look at, the sound is almost always incredible.  I was seated in the middle of the hall and sat back to enjoy the show, along with a crowd of predominantly 35-54's.

Although Steely Dan was responsible for a large part of the soundtrack of my college and later years, I'd never seen them live.  What a treat!  The show got underway less than five minutes after the advertised start time and fortunately, the band understood why the house was full.  They devoted the next two hours to playing as many of everyone's favourites as possible.

This was a sharp contrast to a Van Morrison concert I attended with Cooper last year, when Mr. Morrison either didn't understand or didn't care why people wanted to come to hear him perform.  Our first clue should have been when we saw the stage set up in a circle, so that the musicians all played facing each other, instead of the audience.  It was one of most self-indulgent displays I've ever seen.  They played exactly one of Van Morrison's hits in the entire first set.  Mike and I went for a beer during intermission and didn't come back.

I think that when folks are paying hard-earned money to see and hear a performer, it's the artist's responsibility to give the people what they want.  If you want to jam, Van, do it on your own time.

Back to Steely Dan; lead vocalist and chief composer Donald Fagen really appeared to give it his all, although I could sense he was struggling vocally early into the show.  He seemed to be going through the Billy Joel syndrome of wondering why on earth he'd written these tunes in these stupid keys 25 or 30 years ago.  We could see the anguish on his face when he went for the high notes and didn't quite get there.

However, it all became clear near the end, when he apologized for his vocal performance, implying that he was having a problem that was unique to that evening.  After an encore of "Kid Charlemagne", featuring moments where Mr. Fagen's mouth opened and no sound at all came out, he apparently decided that enough was enough.  My guess is that we didn't get to hear all of the encores he had planned, but we'd certainly been sated.

When someone gives you everything they have, how can you ask for more than that?

Have a great day and Erin will be back with you tomorrow.

Good day and welcome to Friday.  I have to say that last weekend I kept asking Rob, "So, let me get this straight -- when tonight's over, we still have tomorrow (or the next day)?"  I had a hard time getting my head around that lovely long weekend, and a three-day work week was equally sweet.  Almost as sweet as the forecast we have for this weekend.  Oh, let's hope it holds.

I got an unusual number of e-mails about yesterday's journal - the one about the strange spam saying, "Grandpa Moore wants you to join...." some Facebook-type forum.  In case you missed it, I'd been thinking a lot about my grandfather the previous weekend, and if memory serves, this week marked the 25th anniversary of his funeral.  The timing of the e-mail was, to say the least, interesting and it seems that plenty of readers found reasons to believe that the angels among us are pretty clever when it comes to getting through.  I choose to believe that too, especially when the thought gives us comfort.

We're having a quiet weekend up north starting later today, but tomorrow there is a group from the Sandals 2007 trip gathering in Brechin, which is just about ten minutes from our cottage.  So we'll pop in for a few laughs and to say "hello" to a great group of people.

That's something that CHFI winners love to do: forge friendships on the trips and then keep up contact when they come home.  It's a wonderful thing!  And while time just doesn't allow us to say yes to each invitation that follows, this is a get-together that comes while Rob and I are on our way past Brechin anyway.  So it'll be fun to drop by.

I hope your weekend is a good one and that you're enjoying these lovely summer days.  The air conditioning isn't getting a workout (that's a good thing) but I must say that Rob still wears a parka on his 5 am dog walks.  Yesterday the winds made the morning temp feel like it was about 11, so that's a good enough reason to bundle up.

Whatever you're doing - enjoy.  Have a laugh with friends or family and just enjoy this sweet, sweet month.  Take care and thanks for coming by!

Wow - Thursday already?  This rocks.  The weekend forecast looks good and so does life.  Hope you're doing well.

If you've heard it, you know that in my keynote speech "Living Out Loud" I mention the influences that my grandfather, Cliff Moore, had on my young years.  A self-taught musician, he would allow me to go out to his "shack" - a flat that was attached to a separate garage near their house in Turner Valley, Alberta - and play his alto saxophone.  I'm proud to say that sax is now mine.  He also generously let me play his candy-apple red Gibson Cutaway electric guitar (the one Chuck Berry made famous) even though it was so heavy it left a two-inch wide divot above both of my knees, where it rested as I sat and tried to play.  That thing weighed a ton!  Grandad Moore would also set me up with his paints, linseed oil, a canvas or piece of board and some turpentine so that I could indulge my very narrow artistic streak (there was never a need to consider adding the name "Davis" to the Group of Seven on my account).

Years after his 1983 passing at the age of 79, I found this slide and developed it into a photo.  In it, Grandad stands in a window behind me.  I don't know why I'm laughing but I did a lot of laughing during the summers I spent with my grandparents at their house.  (I think I'm about 15 in this shot).  The third of four daughters, not only did I get to be an "only" child for two months of the year, but I also was given a place for my heart to call home, during an Air Force upbringing of many different home addresses.

Anyway, I referred yesterday to a weird e-mail I got and I had to share it with you.  It has to do with Grandad Moore and me.

I'd been thinking about him this past weekend.  He died just days before Canada Day and we had to postpone funeral plans to accommodate the holiday and people's plans.  If memory serves, the funeral was July 2nd or 3rd 1983.  A sucker for dates, I was marking 25 years since that day where I stood at the front of the church and sang "Danny Boy", along with a few favourite hymns as we said good-bye to my mom's father.

Months after Grandad Moore died, I had a very vivid dream in which I finally got to ask him if he was all right, if he was happy.  He said that he was and for me not to worry.  I remember the dream because I'd been sleeping in a tent, close to nature, and had been talking about him and thinking about him a lot that evening.  At any rate, it almost felt as though he'd come to pay me a visit and lighten my load a little.

So...now to July 2nd, 2008.  As we drove down from the cottage yesterday, I opened my e-mails.  And here's what was in my inbox:

Grandpa Moore would like to be your friend on hi5!

I set up a hi5 profile and I want to add you as a friend so we can share pictures and start building our network. First you need to join hi5! Once you join, you will have a chance to create a profile, share pictures, and find friends.

Thanks,
Grandpa

Okay - so tell me if that isn't just a little bit BIZARRE.  As it turns out, hi5 is something like Facebook; I went online just to check it out and see who or what it was all about.  I don't really have the time or the inclination to connect with people any more than I already do (I can be e-mailed with the click of a button as it is, and who the heck wants to know more about me than you already do?) but I just had to shake my head.

I can't imagine it, but maybe Grandad knows his way around the internet!  It's probably just a coincidence, but when you combine the timing with the thoughts of him that went through my head all weekend, you get a pretty good story!

Well, was that not THE best Canada Day?  The sun shone, the breezes gently blew and despite the fact that it was and wasn't a long weekend, the day itself made up for any ambiguity.  Oh, and in reference to today's quote, our neighbour's lawn mower conked out about ten minutes into his work yesterday.  (yay!)

What did we do up at the cottage on the Trent Canal?  A bit of this, a bit of that.  My sister, her husband and three kids came for a fun day on Sunday, Lauren and her boyfriend Nathan arrived on the late bus that night and we enjoyed having them around (although they never once went outside on Monday or yesterday).

We sure did - dog walks, boat rides, you name it.  Yesterday, I rolled out my yoga mat on the dock and did five rounds of sun salutations plus some other stretches and exercises with soft Indian music playing on a speaker, blending beautifully with the chirps and cheeps of finches around me.

The best part, though, was lying down during shavasan, which anyone who does yoga will probably agree is the best part, as you lie perfectly still and relax every part of your body.  As I stretched out in the sun and looked above me to the branches of birch and maple trees gently swaying in the cool July breeze, a brilliant flash of red caught my eye.  There, perched over me, was a cardinal; just a branch or so over sat his beige partner with her bright orange beak.  The Brangelina of the bird world stayed there for the entire time I did.  It was perfect.

We're so lucky that our place isn't surrounded by great densities of trees or swamp, and the accompanying mosquitoes and blackflies.  Hearing reports last week that mosquitoes are five times thicker this year (due to the almost daily rains) certainly rang true after my visit to Lake Rosseau in Muskoka the previous week, when we were swarmed the moment we opened the car door, and nearly inhaled them, so thick were the little monsters.  But at our place I managed (without spray) to suffer only a couple of bites.  And wouldn't you know it, it was while I was practising the balance position "tree pose" and wasn't really supposed to be noticing bugs.  Guess I'm lucky it was mosquitoes and not wood peckers who were after my knees and ankles.

Hope you had a bite-free and relaxing Canada Day, as we all took time to salute the best country on the planet to call home.  Tomorrow, I'll share with you an e-mail - junk mail at that - that made me wonder if my late grandfather has figured out the internet!  Cue the Twilight Zone theme....

Mike and I will be back with you tomorrow.  In the meantime, I'd love for you to ponder these words:

I am a Canadian, free to speak without fear, free to worship in my own way, free to stand for what I think right, free to oppose what I believe wrong, or free to choose those who shall govern my country. This heritage of freedom I pledge to uphold for myself and all mankind.
 

John Diefenbaker
From the Canadian Bill of Rights, July 1, 1960

Erin