Erin's Journals

Well, spring has just about sprung. It happens at 12:15 pm EDT and I know that if you are one of the people who read this journal from an Ontario postal code, you cannot wait. We have watched the weather from here on the west coast and just shuddered at how relentless it was for so very long this winter. We couldn’t be happier on everyone’s behalf that the vernal equinox is upon us.
 
Spring, of course, is known as a time of new beginnings. And so, it is not just a coincidence but extremely timely that I go back in time to this day in 2003. What was I doing? (That is exactly the question that Rob asked me when the blog had exactly 30 readers at the outset.)
 
As I sat on a chaise in our bedroom typing away for an hour every night, I had decided I wanted another way to connect with CHFI listeners. I was a big fan of Jann Arden’s blogs, so frank and funny were they at the time. Now she’s a brilliant follow on Twitter or Instagram who shares the highs and deep lows of her life so honestly and with such touching humour that it’s an honour to be let into her life. Jann also turned those musings into a few books, but her latest, Feeding My Mother, has been about her mom’s descent into the depths of Alzheimer’s, as her loving daughter helps where she can and mourns where she cannot.
 
Jann inspired my first journal written on this very day in 2003. And so, with great humility and thanks to you for being with me some, many or all of the days since that first one, I thank you. I’ll keep writing as long as you keep coming here – I do say that fairly often and I mean it – and I hope we’ll never tire of spending time together.
 
This journal has been a lifeline for me in so many ways: when I was let go later that year, 2003, people suddenly knew where to find me. When I came back to radio and later back to CHFI, they knew that too – thanks to this space. When Lauren passed away, you knew I’d tell you all I could right here. And you’ve helped Rob and me in so very many ways as we’ve navigated the choppy waters of mourning and set sail for safer, peaceful harbours out here on the Pacific Ocean.
 
Enjoy this step into the past and I’ll be back with you here tomorrow. And again, thank you.

Thursday March 20, 2003
 
“Little Darlin’…it’s been a long cold lonely winter…it feels like years since it’s been clear…Here Comes the Sun…and I say – it’s all right….” The first day of Spring (even though it doesn’t arrive until tonight) always has me humming that song, and hearing George Harrison’s sweet guitar. I heard he wrote “Here Comes The Sun” while sitting in Eric Clapton’s garden. I always wonder if Eric was off kissing Patti while George was strumming on a bench. Did they canoodle while George just noodled? And what the heck is canoodling, anyway? Whatever it is ~ I can probably use some. Super-size it.
 
Oh, by George, it has been a long winter. Of course, we’ve been spoiled in years past, but when the ceiling at the cottage sprang a leak two weeks ago, and here we’d made it into bloomin’ March without one leak – well, hell (as my mom says) that’s just not fair.
 
But we’ve made it to Spring. This is the day when there are equal hours light and darkness. Only happens twice a year…now and in the fall. Ew. Fall. The f-word. Don’t get me wrong, I love the season! But I don’t want to even think about it right now after the snowy, windy, wet, cold, cold, cold winter we’ve just seen. Bring on summer. Bring on Spring!
 
Spring. Little crocuses popping up their heads like prairie dogs on a Calgary golf course. Little doggie surprises in your backyard of a not-so-fragrant variety! Trees all reaching out their arms filled with promises of fluttering gifts and blossoming wonders. Our hearts swell with the enormous, delicious freshness of it all – as Mother Earth begrudgingly grants pardon for the frigid bleakness thrust upon her for so very, very long. We’re so sorry. That ain’t no way to treat a lady.
 
Spring has arrived, with her basket of forgiveness and rejuvenation. Promise and hope. “What the world needs now…” love, forgiveness, rejuvenation, promise. Hope Springs Eternal. Spring springs eternal. Happy Vernal Equinox! Run around naked. Make love, Not war. And for Heaven’s sake, put on a sweater.
 

Welcome back to the journal. As you may know, Rob and I took a week away from this page to do a little traveling, have some fun and speed up March so that we can get to April a little faster and see our sweet grandbaby in Ottawa. Nothing like a few days away to do just that!
 
Our other sweet baby, of course, is Molly, who is the poster child for “Life is Good” (literally). This picture was taken one morning when we got up before Molly did and Rob had to carry her outside to take her first piddle of the morning. Tough life, huh? That’s when she isn’t getting her own demitasse of cappuccino froth (or “fluffy milk” as I call it) since she’s always trying to lick mine. (Although some dogs can’t tolerate milk, this is lactose-free and she does just great.) I know, as Rob says, “This place is nuts.”
 

 
She’s such a sweet girl that I hate to leave her, but – as was the case last week and will be the case in April – it’s not exactly practical to take her with us. She’ll join us for a trip to Kelowna, where I’m a keynote speaker for BC broadcasters in May, but not all of our road trips are going to be as dog-friendly.
 
You may recall that last year we used an app to find someone in our price range (preferably about $25 a day) to take Molly into their home and let her sleep with them and be pampered while we’re away. At 13 years old, she’s not exactly high maintenance; all she wants is her Caru for breakfast and supper, one substantial walk and a few trips outside during the day and late evening. I mean, she’s so sweet, you’d think people would pay US to take her, right? (I’m kidding. Sort of.)
 
But I understand why we are paying; after all, people who join pet sitting services like the one we have now signed up with, Go Fetch, have expenses too, I’m sure. Our last sitter fell through when she fell in love with having Molly and bought a dog of her own! So much for that plan. So on we went. The lady we found to take Molly most recently has a small apartment about 20 minutes from where we live (which, as I said a few weeks back, nearly everything seems to be) and she works shifts. So Molly will enjoy having someone to nap with during the day. 
 
But here’s the thing: as great as Francine was – and they seemed to get along famously – she’s going away for several months this summer to take on a job at a lodge. We found that out when we went to meet her before Molly’s visit. We were like, “What? Nooooo!” Just disappointed that our little girl has to get used to one more person.
 
Now, don’t get me wrong; Molly’s chill and loves all people. But as she ages, we know her sight and other senses will begin to fail and familiarity will become more and more important. That’s when we’re going to have to find someone we trust totally who will come in to take care of her. After all, we don’t want to live without our dear Molly, but we do want to have time to travel.
 
A friend up island, who has also sat for Molly and hosted her in her home, happens to be awaiting the arrival of a grandbaby in Seattle at the end of this month, so she was unavailable while we were gone. She’s newly widowed and is even considering getting her own dog. We suggested that down the road we could even find a way maybe to “time share.” Let Molly stay with someone who needs company and who loves her as we do (which seems to be everyone).
 
We’re good pet parents, I swear. But I don’t believe that having a dog – no matter how much you love them – should anchor you during the years you’re meant to be exploring. We’ll take her with us when we can and figure out the rest as we g0. As long as she’s got her food, her treats and her heating pad – oh, plus a warm spot on her person’s bed – she’s good. No, she’s great.
 
Have a good day and we’ll be back with you here tomorrow.
 

Well, here we are – Friday already. It’s been a busy week, but nothing I’ve done in the past little while has been as gratifying as putting on my “performer” hat again and moderating a Q&A for a club which I joined last fall. And it happened during, appropriately, International Women’s Day. How perfect!
 
It’s called the Peninsula Newcomers’ Club and you can belong for up to (I think) four years before being shoved out of the nest as a “former newcomer.” Every month, 60-80 women gather at a local Sidney hotel restaurant for a lovely meal, an interesting guest speaker and some prize draws. My first (and, until yesterday, only) one was last September; my schedule or that of friend Nancy who introduced me to the gatherings has gotten in the way. But yesterday I felt right “at home”: I was on the microphone. 
 
Sharon Seemann and Janice Dickens are members of the Peninsula Newcomers’ club. These two women have moved here to the Saanich Peninsula after having lived in Saudi Arabia; Canadian wives of oil workers who took jobs – and their families – in SA and ended up living there for nearly three decades. Their lives in a special enclosed city of 30,000 that is built for non-Saudis (think Truman Show in real life), are fascinating and I feel that our half-hour chat was as enlightening and interesting to our audience as the four-hour talks Janice, Sharon, Nancy and I had leading up to the all-female event! (Of course, Rob was there running the AV for us…I couldn’t do this without his help.)
 
As I asked questions, Janice and Sharon spoke about life on the compound, the reasons they moved there, how it felt sending their 10th grade children off to boarding schools abroad – all of the things that hopefully everyone in our crowd was wondering. Afterward there were another ten really good questions, and Janice and Sharon were at ease on the mic while I asked questions, facilitated the audience part of the afternoon and generally just (I hope) made people laugh.
 

 
I can’t begin to tell you how good it felt. While getting up in front of a microphone is the polar opposite of most people’s comfort zones, to me it felt like it was right where I belonged. It didn’t hurt when I got a warm round of applause during my intro from Nancy; it seems there are other ex-Ontarians in the group, too! YAY! 
 
All in all, it was just the best experience. I’ve been approached about perhaps doing an interview at an arts festival at the local theatre in October and I may well do it. Do I expect a pay cheque? While it would be nice (I have fantasies of actually having freelance work pay for our living expenses for the next few years) it’s doubtful and that’s not why we’re doing it, why Rob came along and did the audio/visual aspect of the day and why I put on lashes and heels for the first time since, oh, November.
 
It’s because, as Dr. Phil puts it, a “racehorse has gotta run.” And this is still my race. I’m not slowing down just because I’m in the back stretch and goodness knows I hope that the home stretch is a way off. I’m just going to cross my fingers and hope that more comes out of this and that I get bumped up and out of my cocoon a little more with each passing month. The world appears to be unfolding – or unravelling, depending your outlook – as it should!
 
Anyway, I wanted to let you know that Rob and I are going away for the better part of ten days and I will take one week off from journalling next week. It happens to coincide with March Break for many and since I know that a lot of journal readers take time away from the laptop during that period, I thought I would, too. 
 
I’ll come back with lots of fresh ideas and hope you’ll join me here again on March 19th; until then, take it easy and thank you for sharing time here with me. In the meantime, I expect we’ll be getting a link to a recording of the AMA Waterways/New Wave Travel webinar that we did on Wednesday to talk about next April’s Tulip Time cruise with Mike & Debbie Cooper and Rob & me. I hope to post a link to that soon.
 
Be well, my friend and thank you for sharing time here. Speaking of time, don’t forget the clocks go ahead this Sunday at 2 am as we return to Daylight Saving Time. 
 
Come back on the 19th and I’ll be here if you are.
 

Hey there – I hope your week is going well. I want to finish off my eyebrow blog from yesterday. I have the “after” pictures and stories for you from the microblading session that I booked almost four weeks ago. Tomorrow, I go back to Elham’s Cottage (a studio added on to her house in picturesque View Royal, near Victoria) for my touch-up session and I’m not quite sure what that entails, but I am looking forward to it just the same.
 
You may wonder why someone would get their brows microbladed. For those who’ve undergone chemotherapy or whose thyroids have made their brows either stop at the centre or disappear entirely, it’s a godsend. Eyebrows have become as much of a fashion statement as lips in the past few decades (or millennia if you’re, say, Egyptian) and after seeing a stunning picture of Jann Arden’s new brows, I couldn’t help wondering if they might give my face a little boost, too.
 

 
So, why care about my brows? Well, it was curiosity, mostly. Also, they’ve always been somewhat irksome (I wouldn’t say problematic). I have what they call “expressive eyebrows” so one of them arches more than the other (and hopefully you can’t tell which now, unless I’m giving you the “oh really?” face).
 
I remember one high falutin’ makeup artist live on our radio show at CKLW way back in the 80’s asking me: a) how much time I spent on my makeup in the morning (a question that I knew had no right answer…and I was right) and b) why one of my brows looked like a “spermatazoa.” Yes, “sperm” was said on the radio and I was too shocked to be insulted! But 30+ years later, I thought I’d play around a bit and see what the whole process was like. 
 
I found someone who was highly recommended in my area and we did our preliminary appointment and the actual microblading on the same day. I knew what I wanted and was ready for it. 
 
So, after Elham measured carefully, drew in the eyebrows, plucked and then numbed the area so that she knew what she was working with, I just lay back and took in the gentle scraping. Truly, there was only one twinge and that just meant I needed a little more numbing gel – and I will tell you again that I am not afraid of (or bothered by) needles, blades, etc. – so if you go to someone and have a different experience, I am just letting you know that this is mine!
 
After about two hours, we were done and then I was given strict instructions not to touch or scratch the areas Elham had bladed. The scabs would soon start to appear and I was only to treat them gently with Polysporin and later a vitamin ointment to keep them moist and to aid in the healing process. I was fine with that.
 
The only thing you have to know going into this is that the first week you are going to look like a caricature. The skin that’s been cut needs to scab over and peel off on its own. So, needless to say, I was glad only to be visiting my aunt and uncle. They noticed, but didn’t say anything until I brought it up. Family is usually far less subtle!
 

 
One week later, they had settled down and we got pretty much the brow we were hoping for.
 

 
In the end, about $300 later, I’m going to wait and see how long they last. It’s predicted to be about six months if you use the proper sunscreen, etc. so we shall see. I’ve never regretted the eyeliner I had tattooed on many years ago (you wanna talk painful???) and which has mostly faded off. I just thought I’d bring you along for the ride, in case you or someone else you know is considering it. Ask me in six months whether it was worth the dough. 
 
I’m having a huge adventure stepping back into my comfort zone (emceeing) today; I’ll fill you in on all the details here tomorrow! And thanks for coming by.