Erin's Journals

Today’s journal is for folks who like to travel with their furry family members.
 

 
Last month, Rob, Molly and I met up with our friend Mike Cooper in Las Vegas (he’s our other furry family member). That, you already know. But I wanted to share with you a BIG difference in hotels that claim to be pet-friendly and those that actually are. I’ll share with you first a post from two years ago this month that illustrates the worst experience we had with Miss Malone. 

We booked this Tacoma, Washington hotel (which says it’s an inn on a harbour, but is actually plunked next to a highway in more of an industrial setting) because of its favourable TripAdvisor reviews and pet-friendly designation. When we got there, I paid the extremely reasonable fee of ten dollars per night for Molly. But it was the 8 or 9 point waiver that we had to sign that really cast a pall on our stay.
 
In bold letters were words to the effect that we would not leave (y)our dog unattended in the room at any time!
 
I didn’t want to rock the boat or risk not having a place to stay that night or I might have asked, “I’m sorry – what? You just gave us breakfast vouchers for the restaurant in the hotel. Are my husband and I supposed to go dine in shifts?” Obviously, I didn’t say that. But we did start to worry.
 
As we made our way to our second floor room, visitors nearby clearly had brought at least two dogs who were being very vocal. Rob and I were suddenly grateful for having brought our trusty ear plugs, and worried that we’d inadvertently booked into a dog pound for the night! 
 
We decided on the spot that, rather than go out for dinner before the theatre in Tacoma, we’d walk together down the street and pick up pizza to bring back. We did have to leave Molly as we went out later; she was sleeping contentedly on Rob’s pillows (her natural habitat as you see above) and was, for all we know, fine while we were gone.
 
Saturday, we faced the same worries: what if we were busted for breaking the rules and leaving the pup alone in our room? We know she’s well behaved and quiet, but…what if she was somehow provoked by knocking at the door or a noisy neighbour?
 
So, after walking her and then parking her on her towel while we had breakfast, we stayed in almost the entire day, napping and reading and what you might call wasting a day in a city we had planned to explore (but for the rain). We took an hour out to go to Kohl’s department store but that was it. It was snacks in front of the TV for our dinner and then check out on Sunday after breakfast. 
 
I’m not sure how this “pet-friendly” stuff in hotels works; we’re new to it. Some hotels charge up to 40 dollars a night if you have a pet with you (which is ridiculous) and, of course, others don’t offer the option at all, which I get.
 
But allowing you to bring your dog and then making you sign an agreement not to leave them alone, no matter how well-behaved? That’s neither people- nor pet-friendly, in our books. 

Now let me tell you how pet-friendly really should – and does – work. When we went to Vegas last month, we chose a hotel far from the strip that TripAdvisor told us welcomed dogs. And it did! From a very boisterous greeting at front desk (the young woman was from Canada and welcomed us like family) to rules that were almost non-existent, we had a relaxed stay with our pup.
 
She behaved herself beautifully (as always) and had there been any problem during the time we’d left her peacefully dozing on her blanket, we left our phone numbers with front desk so we could be reached. Perfect, right? And the icing on the cake? NO CHARGE. Thank you, La Quinta!
 
Our next hotel stay on the California/Nevada border even had a special place for dogs to do their business. The sentiment is so sweet, I didn’t even take a Dremel and try to move the apostrophe!
 

 
Have a great weekend and I’ll be back with you here on Monday.
 

Hello and welcome in. I thought at first I’d have another astounding story about “found money” (as we did in Vegas when I came upon this ticket in the parking lot of a casino). You know me – always looking down expecting to find something: a dime, an American penny, a feather or even, in this case, a ticket.
 

 

 
Rob was heading out to the store yesterday and found this on the ground.
 

 
He brought it back into the house, where I was researching another Walmart article, and told me he had a little “project” for me. I immediately started thinking about the winnings. You know me: if I found a pile of manure I’d be digging through it looking for the proverbial pony that must be somewhere in there!
 
Then I started wondering, well, would we have to find the person who lost this ticket? What if it was one of the hardworking gardeners or construction folks toiling away in the sun who had lost their ticket to a better life? Would I go and look for its rightful owner or just cash in and keep the windfall? 
 
I needn’t have worried; someone threw away the ticket for a reason. Ah, well.
 
Then I remembered a story one of our guests pointed out to me on the weekend: in Paradise, Newfoundland, a woman had allegedly used a stolen credit card to buy lottery tickets. One Super Crossword scratch hit for the princely sum of $50,000.
 
Before we heard the outcome of the story, we started to wonder: would she, as the possessor of the winning ticket, have a rightful claim to its winnings, even though she’d allegedly come by them through nefarious means? Or would the $50,000 go to the person whose credit card she’d used? Perhaps she’d be fined $50,000 and the money would go to the man whose card had been stolen to begin with! 
 
Nope – none of those scenarios came to pass. When she showed up to cash in her winning ticket, she was charged with two counts of possessing a stolen credit card and five counts of fraud (as well as driving with a suspended license and without insurance). Suffice it to say her experience will not be one that shows up in a TV ad!
 
And it turns out the Atlantic Lottery rules state that no payment will be made in the case of winnings that are achieved through criminal means. So, no pay, no win, no bonus for the man who’d had his card stolen, no $50,000 punishment for the woman who allegedly stole the card and used it to buy tickets. Darn! I could see this becoming a great Judge Judy episode at its best, or at the very least, a case of karma coming back to bite one person and reward another. It’s too bad, really. 
 
The whole story made me wish I had a radio show so we could debate it. But grateful to have this journal, where I could share the story and the different angles with you! Here’s the story.
 
Tomorrow I’m going to share with you the difference between hotels that claim to be “pet friendly,” but hold you and your pet hostage, and ones that actually are. And let you bring them for free! 
 
Take good care, come on back tomorrow and we’ll wrap up this work week together.
 

Well here’s one for the books: a library in an airport! If you know me, you’re familiar with the fact that I have been in a lot of them in the past year (er, that’s airports, not libraries). Thanks to jobs with the Canadian Real Estate Association, welcome visits back to Toronto to emcee events and, of course, our trips to Ottawa to be with four-year-old Colin, I’m gradually getting to know the ins and outs of some of this country’s terminals pretty well.
 
So it came as a complete surprise when last November I was sitting in the Halifax airport awaiting my flight west, and I heard a big “Clunk!” over my shoulder. I jumped, wondering what someone had just chucked into the recycling. Then I turned to see this:
 

 
I’ve noticed a lot of things in airports – from a player grand piano and clear plexiglass lockers (in Istanbul), to miniature spas, full (and over-sized) art installations and live musicians entertaining weary wanderers. But I’ve never seen library facilities.
 
It turns out that, not only can you drop off your books here, you can also borrow them!
 

 
If you have a Halifax Public Libraries card, you can grab a book here before you go. There are children’s as well as adults’ books (and why does the adjective “adult” mean something completely different when it comes to movies?) with titles that they hope will entice everyone to borrow as they go. 
 
The idea is to take libraries out of the brick-and-mortar past and present, and move them into places where people on the go can also take advantage of them. In some cases, a person who might have borrowed a book, and will be away when it comes due, can simply drop it off as they await their flight (or in a kiosk closer to the entrance/exit of the airport). Or you simply choose something you want to read on your way out of Stanfield International Airport and return it upon arrival. Brilliant, yes?
 
As much as individual book sales numbers are interesting to watch, I love hearing that libraries are ordering Mourning Has Broken: Love, Loss and Reclaiming Joy (HarperCollins Feb. 26) and sometimes when I’m walking through airports, I do some positive envisioning: I see my book sitting in the store for travellers in search of a read.
 
But this? What an amazing idea! Well done, Halifax Public Libraries. Just another way to make more books available to more people: what the world needs now!
 
By the way, I got the great news yesterday that our book is already in reprint (I’m not sure how that’s different from a second edition, but it’s good news, I’m told). And here’s a link to a story CBC did about those book kiosks in the Halifax airport. Think we could ever do this in other Canadian terminals?
 

And the countdown continues: three weeks today is our book’s release. But if we thought we were done, we had another thing coming!

Rob is working furiously to edit the 11 chapters (plus foreword, epilogue and acknowledgments) that make up Mourning Has Broken: Love, Loss and Reclaiming Joy. It’s difficult for him to be cocooned away in the quiet of our bedroom while we have company here, but fortunately, despite the quite epic rains of the past weekend (see the flooding we were driving through – and the damage it did to our car – in a post I put up on Facebook on Saturday), our friends have been wonderfully understanding about finding ways to have fun and explore the area on their own!

People – especially those close to us – understand the life of freelancers and the randomness with which a project that was up in the air (an audio book) can suddenly become more urgent. So away we go! While Rob’s editing, I’ve got a new writing project on the go.
 
I wish I had any inspiration for a new book, but as I’ve told Rob, “If it’s anything like the first one, something pretty awful’s going to have to happen and I don’t think either of us wants that!” Ah, humour. No matter how dark, it does help us through.
 
So here’s what I’m busy pecking away at these days (besides my daily journals here, of course). I was contacted by a friend who works in publishing at Walmart and was asked if, by any chance, I might be interested in writing for their site. Intrigued, I took a look at what they were suggesting and thought: If I can write things that I know to be true, that resonate with me and might with you (um, without any need for more rhyming) then this could be a perfect fit.
 
So I sat down to write something about being good to ourselves at this time of year of love and hearts. Using guidelines generously provided to me, searching my heart and doing some research into products and availability, I came up with this piece for ideas.walmart.ca. 
 
With a focus on wellness, comfort and things that I think might be helpful to someone in my shoes (as loose fitting as they are these days – about the only thing on me that is or are!) I came up with my first article. 
 
So here we go. I hope you enjoy it and if you have any ideas you want to send my way, I’m always open to suggestions! Drop me a line or post it on my public Facebook page. And, as always, thanks for your input and your support. And a BIG thank you to the editors who made this first effort as good as it could be! Also, my very good friend (and fellow freelancer) Lisa Brandt is writing there, too…so if you’re poking around the site, look for her!
 
Here’s to new adventures. Ever wonder why they all seem to come at you at once?
 

Well, this is a big day on our family’s calendar: this beautiful woman was born February 4, 1933. He she is at 72. And this is not going to be a sad journal, I promise you!
 

 
Mom would have been 86 today; she died in nearby Palm Desert six years ago yesterday. Actually, we’re pretty sure she left us on the evening of February 1st when a brain aneurysm took her down, quickly, at the home she and Dad were renting for the winter. They’d just finished a great day with my sister Cindy and her husband; they’d had dinner while watching a M*A*S*H rerun and she suddenly complained of an awful headache, how hot she felt, and boom. She was on the floor.
 
The hospital was good enough to keep Mom on life support until three of her four daughters (youngest Leslie didn’t have a current passport at the time) could be there to say our good-byes as they took her off life support. How grateful we were to play soft music and say our goodbyes with six roses in her lovely hands (one for each child, one for her and one for Dad).
 
I write of Mom’s passing in Mourning Has Broken in terms of having been visited by death before in our lives; the circle of life and the expected passing of a parent is the way things are supposed to go. But it was what happened when she was taken off the breathing apparatus which had sustained those last hours of “life” that was remarkable. Here’s some of that story. 

The mechanical clicking that had accompanied her aided breathing had stopped, and all we heard above our sniffles and quiet words to our mother were the slowing beeps as the numbers on a machine registering her heartbeat continued to drop. Aware that the staff was waiting to come in and prepare the private room for another patient, we steeled ourselves for the final goodbyes. Down, down, down the numbers dropped: 98 . . . 82 . . . 60 . . . 
 
When the numbers had gotten down near the teens, my sisters began to gather up their jackets, the speakers, their purses. I sat at the bedside and rubbed mom’s arm, speaking softly to her all the while. As the beeping pattern changed, I looked up.
 
52 . . . 60 . . . 72 . . . 88 . . . the numbers began to climb! What was this—some kind of miracle? “She’s not quite ready to go yet,” I said hopefully. But when I stopped rubbing her arm, the numbers and her heart rate slowly began to drop again. Was Mom sending a signal that she knew we were there—that she wasn’t going to be leaving us all?
 
As lovely as that would have been to believe, I suspect the truth is that she really did go on her way when she fell to the floor in her bathrobe at home. What we were witnessing was some kind of static-electric reaction to me rubbing her skin. Of course that was it . . . wasn’t it? 

How I wish that Mom was around to be a part of this book journey that we have undertaken, but I remain grateful (the sentiment of gratitude arises again and again in this book) that she didn’t live to endure the passing of her granddaughter and, one year later, her first grandson. There are always things for which we can be thankful, and certainly that is one.
 
We’re also grateful that she filled out a book of memories for her grandchildren to cherish. I’m not sure where that book is now, but hope I have it somewhere at home on a bookshelf and that it wasn’t ruined in a flood that hit Lauren and Phil’s home a few months after her passing. I’ll have to look for it. Here’s one of Mom’s humorous entries. 

 
It’s a great thing, writing down some thoughts (including the lighthearted ones) by which your descendants may one day know you. I highly recommend this – just get a pen you like and get writing, or poke someone you love to do this for you and your own children! We were able to use some of mom’s entries for her grandkids to read at her “Momorial.” A wonderful thing, indeed.
 
Have yourself a gentle Monday and thank you for stopping by. Tomorrow, word of another writing adventure that you might enjoy taking a look at. This time, Rob’s not on the hook to edit; I’m just writing away like a mad fiend! How much fun is this? (Lots!)