Erin's Journals

Just a thought… There’s no such thing as being too busy. If you really want something, you’ll make time for it. [author unknown]

I’m so glad to make myself sit down and write for a bit, my diet A&W root beer at my side, dogs asleep at my feet. It feels good.

My friend, the word “whirlwind” doesn’t do justice to what the past and coming days entail. It’s a combination of volunteering for the campaign with just two weeks until Election Day in Canada, and the rest is been prepping for a plane trip to Ottawa in just two days. So let’s do this – with a few observations thrown in along the way. Grab a cup of what you love, and here we go.

Talking beverages: I used to drink about four cups of one-third caffeine coffee daily (Rob mixes the beans in advance). I am now down to ONE, the least caffeine I’ve taken in daily since I was pregnant. One one-third caffeine a day. And I’m still running on overdrive! I think it’s the first time since I left radio that I have so much energy, so much adrenaline, that anything added to my system is sending me through the roof.

Found out yesterday that today I’m introducing an MP (and candidate) from North Vancouver, who’s here on the island to chat with constituents at a rally and then door-knock with our guy. Rob cancelled his second-to-last hockey of the season tomorrow so he can come and do the PA system. We’re doing what we can to help. We’ve already voted but now we’re free to volunteer and drive people to the polls two weeks today.

Funny side note: on a long walk last week, I complimented a woman on the sign on her lawn. She and I chatted (she’s moved here recently from the GTA as well) and it turns out I had some interaction with her daughter, who’s in PR, back in my radio days. The woman said her daughter never forgot (it was positive) and we were trying to get the three of us together for coffee but this week is shortened. Maybe on daughter Meaghan’s next visit!

One more walking note: I was trying to gauge whether wearing a party’s button on my chest while I do my daily power hour of getting off my butt made a difference in eye contact. At first I thought people were avoiding me so that I wouldn’t try to proselytize or talk politics – which I would NEVER do. But then I did the same walk without the button on, and measured about the same number of smiles or averted eyes. Some people just don’t want to say “hello” as they pass by – even in friendly Sidney, BC. Still, I always have a smile on my face and if they want to exchange greetings, I’m there for them. Especially the seniors and fellow dog-walkers.

Of course, nearly everyone has a smile when they see me walking (on the shorter go-rounds) with Dottie and Livi. Dottie tends to be lippy and shout “Hello! Hello!” whenever she sees anything four-legged within a block. I’d like to change that, but right now we’re working on “SIT!” so one thing at a time.

We’re also training them to get to like their travel bags, in which they’ll be zipped and placed beneath the seats ahead of us on this Wednesday’s two-legged journey to spend Easter Weekend with our grandkids and their folks in Ottawa. The dogs LOVE being together in one crate, but we didn’t want to put them in the hold. So they’ll be at our feet.

They have little doggie downer pills to take, and I’m going to make sure I take something to; it’s going to be nerve-wracking. And in case you weren’t aware, we are absolutely forbidden to take them out and cuddle them, no matter how stressed they get. Many folks have offered to take the girls while we’re away, but this trip is a trial run for maybe taking them away for the winter when driving is no longer an option (as it is not). Wish us all luck!

So, in a nutshell, that’s this nut’s life this week: just trying to get everything done here in terms of our responsibilities, and ready for the trip. In addition to the brand new Drift with Erin Davis sleep story tomorrow (I’m going to try to lull you to sleep this time with the details from the British Museum about the Rosetta Stone), of course there’s a new Gracefully and Frankly Episode 123 this Thursday, and the one next week will be from our Ottawa hotel room. Ah, the glamour! The excitement! The decaffeination of it all!

Once the stress subsides, I’m sure the excitement about seeing Colin and Jane will actually sink in. But for now, just one day, one hour at a time, right? May you and your family have a Happy Easter if you celebrate, and time with loved ones no matter what the days ahead hold.

Just a thought… Because life is a symphony it must have its C Minor. Days there be when we hear only a discord of sharps and flats, and we wonder whether harmony will ever be restored. [Thomas Hylland Eriksen]

Ah, and what a perfect symphony it was – times two!

A week that began last Sunday with a perfect evening ended Friday with another soul-stirring experience, and I couldn’t wait to share them with you.

Rob and I were watching a comic we love on YouTube and a little ad popped up for the Victoria Symphony accompanying the 1987 movie The Princess Bride at the Royal Theatre. On a whim I went online and found three tickets – among very few left – for Sunday night.

We took our niece Ava, whose mom, my sister Leslie, and family live in West Kelowna. Ava’s in Victoria, about a 40 minute drive from us, attending university there to become a music teacher, and is specializing in clarinet.

It was an incredible two hours: the symphony performed the stirring soundtrack to the film, giving us not only the inspiring feeling of hearing live music, but also enjoying a most entertaining film – with subtitles, thankfully – and one that neither Rob nor Ava had seen! “Inconceivable!” to quote a memorable character. (If you subscribe to Disney channel, I can’t recommend this Rob Reiner-directed joy highly enough!)

We left the theatre with spirits higher than we’d felt in a long time. Later the same week, I shook with nerves as I introduced our local Liberal candidate and the president of the Liberal Party of Canada at a local rally that was well-attended and successful and only proved how out of practice I am at standing up in front of people. (Boy, did I miss the podium as a shield, as I trembled holding my iPad!)

Sadly, my services weren’t needed for another local candidate’s rally, attended last night by Mark Carney himself. Waaaaaaah! And I’m not going to take it personally, LOL. Even though I would have found a way to answer what the internet wants to know this week: what is this cat’s name?

Fast forward, in an already highspeed week, to Friday. Ava and the rest of her course’s musicians were joined on stage at the university by the incredibly talented members of the Naden Band of the Royal Canadian Navy: 35 musicians whose sole purpose is to support Naval Operations, ceremonial events and public outreach operations. Here’s how they looked just before the conductors were introduced.

The theme was Fantasy, Myths & Legends and featured music from Holst’s The Planets, a piece by John Williams from the movie Hook, and my personal favourite piece of classical music of all time, the final minutes of the Suite from The Firebird by Igor Stravinsky. I closed my eyes and was transported outside my body. It was truly transcendent and so good for my soul.

I was reminded of how little music I listen to, except in the car, and don’t know why that is! It’s right there at our fingertips through YouTube (here’s the link to Peter Oundjian conducting the Toronto Symphony; you may want to go ahead to the last four minutes to be reminded of this exceptional piece). 

I warn you, you may get taken down the best internet rabbit hole there is!

The film and its exceptional accompaniment on Sunday, as well as this past Friday’s concert, which we decided to attend at the last minute, served as perfect bookends and a reminder that no matter how loud the voices outside (and the ones in our heads and on our devices) get, there is always – unless we’re hearing impaired, and I’m sorry for that – music. To feed our soul. To right our inner balance and remind us of the beauty that is at our fingertips at any time.

To bring us back to who we are.

Have a beautiful week and thanks for spending a few minutes here with me. I appreciate it.

Just a thought… It’s never too late to be what you might have been. [George Eliot]

So who the heck am I, anyway? Is 61 a little ripe to be discovering one’s voice?

Well, a loud HELL NO to that question.

See, here’s the thing. And I’m going to use the word “brand” – something most people can neither relate to, nor care about – when it comes to myself.

All those years on the radio, my job, or brand, was to be on the airwaves, but not to make any waves. My entire work and personal life existence was built around not losing a listener: don’t have an opinion on something one way or the other, don’t state anything that could be the least bit offensive, and whatever you do, don’t give them a reason to tune away.

For the most part, for almost 40 years, I did exactly that.

The “play nice” mantra carried on into my reWirement: I tried not to offend in any of my blog or video posts (although five years back, holding my tongue about anti-vaxxers was impossible – and I’m still okay with that). My freelance work in podcasting, whether for a big body like the Canadian Real Estate Association or our own podcast, Gracefully and Frankly with Lisa Brandt, were built on a foundation of a sparkly beige countertop. Be palatable, don’t offend, be sure people are happy and, whatever you do, don’t be controversial. And NO politics!

But these days, it’s too important in our country’s young history to be quiet, to be demure, to be a lady.

Now that I’m openly and actively campaigning for the Liberal candidate in a longtime Green riding here on southern Vancouver Island which is currently held by prominent Canadian Elizabeth May, I’m wearing a button, helping candidate David Beckham get some eyes and traction where he had none, and not wavering in my support for PM Mark Carney.

But what does this do to my “brand?” Does it open trolls to give me bad reviews on my book or my sleep podcast Drift with Erin Davis, to try to hurt me via back channels? Possibly; I refuse to check. But there’s more at stake here than what’s in it for – or even against – me.

Yes, I wimped out: Rob and I were too protective of my own mental health against the climate of meanness and lies for me to consider running when the suggestion was made (as tempted as I was to serve and *bonus*: spend part of my time nearer our grandkids in Ottawa), but I’m doing the next best thing.

Here’s a promise: because I respect you and your intelligence, I won’t try to change your mind, or even influence your vote (not that anyone on the internet should, no matter what you may think of them). All I can do is my part, so that when it’s over, if our grandkids Colin and Jane ask what we did in 2025, we will have an answer that will make them proud. It may even influence them to try to make a difference when they’re a bit older. We can hope.

For too long we’ve been afraid of what the neighbours might think; now as we look south of the border we see what many of them are doing, and we can’t care about anyone but ourselves and our country any longer.

It’s time for us to stand up for Canada, for our home, for our country. Less than one month of effort is worth a lifetime of freedom and comfort, don’t you think? When has Canada ever asked anything in return (except during tax season lol) for the endless bounty and opportunity she has offered to so many of us?

Call your campaign office. Order those signs. Wear those buttons. Make that donation! Don’t accept the status quo – change happens one vote at a time (either way).

And remember that nothing worth doing is easy. And Canada is definitely worth the effort. It’s just (less than) one month.

Just a thought…

There are moments that the words don’t reach
There is a grace too powerful to name
We push away what we can never understand
We push away the unimaginable.

(Lin-Manuel Miranda, playwright, Hamilton)

We’re marking this day in a positive way.

She should have turned 34 today.

I could not put our feelings into words better than the Pulitzer Prize-winning Mr. Miranda. We just push it away…while somehow holding her close.

Yes, here we are on March 24^th, not sure whether or how to celebrate a day that we remember clearly enough as one of the best ones of our lives, closely followed by her joyful wedding and the arrivals of our grandson and, as luck would have it, a granddaughter, too, four years after our daughter’s death.

How do you mark a day like this? You find your own way: sometimes cake, sometimes tears, sometimes a visit to a special place, or just carefully tucking yourself into the memories that aren’t sharp enough to cut.

For Rob and me there will be actual blood. We’ll be donating at a clinic that, fortunately enough, happens to be taking place in our little home town, coincidentally on Lauren’s birthday.

She loved to give blood and was proud of her record of donating as soon as she was eligible, again and again. We were proud to have raised a child who was aware of the importance of giving and sharing gifts with those she might never meet.

As you know if you live in loss, we do what we can to honour her memory. On our walk home today after the clinic we’ll pick up a slice of birthday cake and savour it together when we get home.

There’s not much more we can do – just hope somewhere she’s proud of how we’ve pushed through the unimaginable to live our lives with grace and strength, with vulnerability and compassion. A great loss opens the heart to the suffering of others and takes us out of ourselves. We give when we can, holding a reserve to protect our own hearts, and we go on. Because we are not in control of anything but how we react, accepting the lessons about what life gives us, and what life takes away.

And we find gratitude for Lauren having been the unimaginable gift she was, and still is.

Just a thought… Stay Calm and Erin Go Bragh.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day if you celebrate. I have an Irish king (John) in my family tree but even that wouldn’t get me a free Guinness in Dublin, I’m sure. So I’m happily a Canadian Queenager instead.

We’ll call this blog a Long Day’s Journey into Nice: short tales of the long road trip as we headed home from California’s Coachella Valley, up the Pacific coast through the state, then into Oregon and finally Washington before hopping the ferry back home to Victoria, BC.

Like so many Canadians, it was the last time we’d be leaving the US for a good long while. Even though tRump and his crooked, market-manipulating cronies have been turning tariffs on and off like he got the Clapper for Christmas, we seem to be holding firm and slapping back.

Anyhoo…a few stories from little stays along the way home, breaking up our six- and seven-hour daily drives.

As you may have heard me mention to Lisa in Episode 116 of our Gracefully and Frankly podcast, our first three nights were at Best Westerns. They varied in layouts and amenities, but most were clean, convenient and friendly (and one even had no pet fee). All three had Keurig-like coffee machines and if you know me, you are aware that oxygen ranks second on my list of needs to stay alive. (I kid, but barely).

We deviated from motels late in our trip, hoping to have memorable and romantic experiences. We got neither. We did learn that two tall-ish adults and two little dogs don’t fit all that well on a queen mattress. But Rob made do with the floor. (Kidding!)

We learned that website pictures often do more justice to a place than it deserves; when you book a room in a cabin condo, you don’t learn until you get there that there will be several paces along an elevated outdoor walkway, followed by two flights of stairs to get in and out. Do we travel light? No, friend, we do not, considering we were away for three months. While we mostly organized what we needed per hotel night, a lot of bags were involved for us and the dogs.

So, one in particular was a real slog…and we were rewarded with that queen-sized bed. Also, you don’t find out until you see the room how tired it is, and how long it’s been since its owners (presumably in a timeshare) have updated it. A crap shoot for sure.

Rob could save us a fortune fixing things along the way, just as he did in the house we rented! He worked off the cost of heating the pool to 85F each day by cutting to fit a solar blanket for the pool to retain the day’s heat and save money, adjusting the frame of an old dishwasher so the door stayed closed (and later installing the new one); moving an old fridge out to the curb, repairing the gate opener so that the remote signal was stronger, and countless other small fixes to make the older house better for the owners and future guests.

We learned that driving long-haul with an electric vehicle is an exercise in hope, trust in apps and patience, not all of which are rewarded. One hotel we stayed at had two chargers (yay! free!) but one guest plugged in for about six hours, and had parked so that no other vehicle could possibly back in safely to get to the other one. There we lost out. But the next night there was a slow-speed charger and we were one of only two couples in the little cottages (they didn’t drive an EV), so we got to stay on it as long as we needed, and saved ourselves a few hours’ charging on the final leg of our trip. Plus, free!

We learned not to let me book a hotel at the end of a long day on the road. I did that on Wednesday night for the next night’s final stay in the US and inadvertently had us staying the wrong night. When I wrote “see you tomorrow” in an email confirming our resos, thank goodness an alert human saw it and said, “Did you mean tonight?” She was kind enough to change the booking (which we could have had to pay) and even gave us five dollars off for a cheaper night’s rate. Maybe it was karma for the next story I have to share….

Sometimes you swallow your pride and plea to pee: at one daytime stop at a Motel 6 we found a highspeed charger, but there was no one in the office to ask about washrooms. So I searched out a cleaning cart and, sure enough, an older couple (likely the owners) were servicing the room. I offered to give them money if I could use the washroom, provided they hadn’t cleaned it yet. They said “Sure!” but refused the money. So I peed, then asked if my husband could also do the same. Once again they happily said yes, and I left the five-dollar bill on the bed, saying I insisted. Hey, pay to pee? Just like Europe! We were relieved. Literally.

On our last full day in Washington State I not only saw but talked with Sasquatch! Okay, not the real deal (as if one exists), but a 52-year-old woman in the hospitality industry who had no idea what I was talking about when I mentioned trade wars with Canada. I want to live in her rainbow bubble. She says news stresses her out, as she’s afraid of what might happen to her as someone who immigrated from Hungary and has been in the US since she was six. Imagine that kind of fear.

I felt melancholy saying farewell to the memories we made all those winters in California, from long-ago visits with Mom while she was living in Palm Desert, to adventures with the grandkids there two winters ago. We won’t back down and our little sacrifice is nothing in the big picture. If anything, the gorgeous scenery and kind people we encountered reminded me that we are so much more alike than different. It also strengthened our resolve to see more of our new-ish home province, Beautiful British Columbia.

So we’re home: not sad it’s over, but glad it happened. With elbows up, we’re ready to take on whatever lies ahead. And whoever lies incessantly. Oh and next winter? Looking at you, Puerto Vallarta. No driving, but definitely taking Dottie and Livi again. Our options will be fewer but that resolve is strong.

Enjoy this week and thank you for spending some time here on these last days of calendar winter! (Spring arrives Thursday just in time for Ep. 118 of Gracefully and Frankly. If you haven’t been to the website yet, please visit and click through to listen or even leave a voice message to air on our show! And follow the podcast so you don’t miss an episode, won’t you?)