Erin's Journals

Just a thought… Nature, time, and patience are the three great physicians. [Chinese Proverb]

A very happy and peaceful Easter Monday to you and thank you for coming by.

I’m home and, unbelievably, I’m still sick, as whatever this is has inexplicably moved into my joints. Apparently it’s a thing. My voice is still raspy after the cold that hit me nearly three weeks ago (!) and won’t leave, as you’ll hear on this Thursday’s Ep 171 at gracefullyandfrankly.com.

Thankfully, there’s a lot of rest in store for me this week as Rob heads back to the “big island” (as we call Vancouver Island) for appointments and meetings. Rob picked me up from Victoria International Airport on Thursday (after I enjoyed the company of Olympic rower Silken Laumann for the flight – details in Episode 171). Fifteen minutes after I got my one suitcase, Rob, Dottie and I we were in the car line for the 45-minute ferry ride to Pender Island.

The visit to Ontario was lovely, including my road trip with Mike Cooper. Once in Ottawa, I had some quality time with Colin and Jane, who are both anxiously awaiting the start of their respective baseball seasons. Mom and Dad will be co-coaching this year, so the whole family has found their groove, their people and their joy. It makes Rob and me happy to know that, as much as we miss them.

Some have asked me on Facebook about the cabin that we bought. Why might be a good question, in that we just moved from a large house to a single-level condo on the ocean in Sidney, a bucolic but bustling little town about 25 minutes’ drive from the provincial capital of Victoria. The answer is many-layered, but “escape” is one of my middle names.

Maybe grief makes me look to fill a hole (as someone with addictive tendencies does), but when we found ourselves without family nearby and a yearning for small, wooded spaces – a love we rediscovered on our Alberta road trip last year – island cabins beckoned. And so we found one. Here’s where it is.

At a cozy 700 sq ft in size, we have named it “Wedgie” after the house we had on Hedge Road in Jackson’s Point, Ontario that we called “Hedgie.” Wedgie is literally a cheesy name, perhaps reminiscent of underwear being pulled too far up, but since this place is also a tight squeeze, it’s only perfect.

With a compact wood stove, modern appliances and conveniences, plus lots of windows and natural wood, the cabin – not yet 20 years old – is perfect for us. We have an open loft bedroom, but for the rare visitor there’s a Murphy bed hidden in a cabinet on the main floor.

First thing Rob did upon taking possession during my winter absence was arrange to have a tiny washroom put in on the upper floor. At our age, getting downstairs when nature screams at 2 am is not an attractive prospect. So YAY! He (and our friend, former CHFI producer Chris Shapcotte) did an incredible job of moving us in and making it perfect for my arrival.

The absolute best part about Wedgie is we are literally surrounded by nature. Yesterday I awoke to three deer sashaying across the yard in front of our window.

In fact, the view from my spot in bed shows one squatting (it’s in the top of the lower centre pane).

We can see glimpses of ocean through the trees, and the only sound we hear has been the occasional woodpecker or other bird on the myriad boughs surrounding us. Rob has turned an old outhouse on the property into his workshop (don’t ask me how, or what it’ll look like, ‘cause I’m NOT going in!) and this is a place of peace, of healing and of enormous gratitude.

I even found a bench to sit on during my walks with the dogs, where I can be with Lauren.

Could anyone ask for more? Enjoy this week and I’ll talk to you Thursday. And thank you for coming along, as always.

Just a thought… The most important discovery true friends make is that they can grow separately without growing apart. [Elisabeth Foley]

Oh my gosh, what a weekend!

It almost killed me to keep it a secret (especially from you here as well as on Facebook, Threads and Insta) but on Saturday night in Ajax, Ontario, a very special man in my life was being celebrated and I was invited to be a part of it.

Ian “The General” MacArthur, producer, mainstay, backbone (and often funnybone) of the CHFI Morning Show for 30 years, hit a milestone, turning 60 years old. Now, there are about three people in this world for whom I’d get on a plane and fly halfway across Canada when I still was sounding like a raspy saw, but Ian is definitely one of them. Here’s how the weekend surprise unfolded.

Ian’s wife Anita sent out an email saying she was planning a small dinner surprise for him at The Keg in Ajax; if I was coming for Easter with the kids, could I join? Well, Rob and I had no plans to come east yet, having just returned from Mexico, but I couldn’t pass up a chance to hug Ian in person and reconnect with longtime radio buddies.

Even Gord Rennie, who’s now operations manager and morning show producer at Talk 640, came and I was reunited with The Wise Guys once more.

A lovely dinner was followed by a party back at the MacArthurs’ where we had cake, lots of great conversation with friends (including former CHFI producer Greg MacDonald, standing between Ian and Gord in the photo above) and family, and got caught up on months and, in many cases, years. I did a video with Mike that I’ll post when I get some time, but today I’m in OTTAWA visiting with our grandkids Colin and Jane and their parents!

Yes, a perfect weekend was shared with the best of friends: from Saturday’s party to Mike driving me to Phil and Brooke’s home near Ottawa yesterday. And here I’ll be until before sunrise on Thursday when my plane takes me home.

Thanks for coming along and, for now, I’d better rest this raspy throat of mine.

Just a thought… If all difficulties were known at the outset of a journey, many of us would not begin at all. [Dan Rather]

As we prepare for a big day tomorrow on our hearts, Lauren’s 35^th birthday (and yes, Dottie’s 4^th), I’ll look back with sunny memories on this week that was – the highs, the hiccups and the WTF moments. Buckle in – it’s a good one.

We left our rental home and got to Puerto Vallarta airport in plenty of time to check in. What we didn’t anticipate was an hour’s wait in a long Disney-worthy lineup (without the zigzag trickery they use) to check us, our two bags and two dogs in for the flight home. It was entirely our fault for not even considering March Break when I booked our flights home last summer…and I lost count of the people who said, “just take carry on” on my FB page. REALLY? For four months? Yeah, no.

When we finally did get through, we thought we’d have time to organize our devices and chargers for the flight – but WestJet had other plans. I’ll get to that in a moment.

As we rode the escalator up to the departures level, I saw a table with some signs and two gentlemen sitting there.

Free measles shots? De verdad? They assured us that, yes, they were giving the shots, and it wasn’t just for Mexican citizens. Once Rob understood what I was going to do – sitting my butt down and rolling up my sleeve – he agreed he would too.

We had read that because of our ages and when we were first inoculated, we were already safe. But I’m not taking any chances. If anything, the anti-vax movement has made me get in line for any and every shot there is, just in case. Anyone can catch measles and I’ll be damned if I’ll pass it along to someone who’s vulnerable (i.e. an expectant mom). FYI, Rob and I had zero side effects: no swelling, itching, soreness or malaise. And we have the record of what we got and when we got it. So, YAY!

After putting our sleeves back down, we hustled to our gate, only to find (surprise!) another enormous lineup. This time, it was to catch a shuttle bus from the airport to our plane. And when we got to it – guess what? It wasn’t WestJet after all!

Yes, WJ owns SunWing, but some of our fellow travellers were worried they’d boarded the wrong plane. Lucky for us, this little fellow kept us well entertained during the flight and could not have been a better traveller!

We got a charge out of him, which was lucky because the seats on this 10-year-old plane (not old at all) had no power outlets.

Four and a half hours later, we landed in Victoria. But the adventures hadn’t ended.

You may recall that, back in November, we disembarked and were in the terminal before I realized my big, new sunhat was still in the overhead compartment of the plane. It had slid off our carry-on so Rob didn’t see it; he had to swim upstream into the plane and get it for me, delaying our departure from the airport.

Well this time, I wasn’t going to be careless. I dug into the seat pocket ahead of me looking for the case with my reading glasses, my hands brushing past what I thought were airline menus and safety cards. Got the glasses, pulled the dogs from their cozy spots under the seats ahead of us, and left the plane.

It wasn’t until after we finally retrieved our luggage, surely the last bags on Victoria’s carousel, that I reached down the side pocket of my leggings. Oh, no! I had one job the whole trip, and that was to protect the passports, and they were not there. I told Rob and he thought I was kidding. I wasn’t. I ran over to a yellow-vested employee who got on her handheld radio and called to the plane and gave our seat numbers. Sure enough, in just about two minutes, he was standing out on the tarmac waving to get in through the securely locked doors and holding up those precious documents.

As I said to the women helping me, “And this is me NOT drinking!” because, yes, I’ve left a laptop on a plane before (cocktails were involved) and the hat this last trip.

I can tell you it’s more the stress of travelling with two little dogs than anything else. But the nerves are calm and, as I type this, Rob and I are recovering in bed from a rotten cold he brought me from Canada. Anyone who noticed that couple (us) wearing masks on the plane? That wasn’t for us. It was for you – and you’re welcome.

More to tell you here next week – travel stories and a brand new homecoming at the cabin. But it’s Monday and your eyes are probably already worn out. So have a gentle week and we will too.

Just a thought…

The two stages of packing:

1) I have all week

2) OH SH*T

Welcome to the final days of winter! A few updates (and a pup-date) for you:

Rob arrived right on time yesterday in Puerto Vallarta, and as soon as he’d been attacked with kisses by the dogs, we headed over to our friends’ house to watch the Oscars. Lisa and I will be discussing the high- and low-lights this Thursday at gracefullyandfrankly.com. Don’t miss the dish!

Meantime, pal Kelita was fooling around with an app and came up with this imaginary red carpet shot of her and me. I wish the “girls” looked like this.

The dogs, by the way, are NOT in heat. Last week right here I told you I awoke stressed at a few little spots on a blanket; turns out they were just bites from a mosquito that made its way into the house. So we’ve bought more time before the gals go to meet their new boyfriends.

Fortunately, whomever they are paired with won’t be looking at their faces. I made a BIG mistake at the groomer’s on Friday and told them, yes, take everything down. But that included their puffy cheeks, which give a Havanese its charm. Now they look like little ruffians. Sure as my legs need shaving, it’ll grow back. Like I said, their boyfriends won’t care. Come to think of it, neither does my husband LOL.

Yes, we’re in the final days of my four-month stay in Nuevo Vallarta, aka Nuevo Nayarit, near Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Last Sunday I had a wonderful day on the seaside Malecón downtown, including theatre and dinner in honour of International Women’s Day. Here we are from left: Kathryn, Kelita and me!

To the theatre: there’s a duo from Toronto (Dylan’s a teacher at Humber, Suba is a freelancer and both are heavily involved in choirs and choral groups throughout the GTA) that we saw and I have to tell you about them. Called FREEPLAY, their show is all about a cappella live looping. You’ve seen Ed Sheeran do it (albeit with a guitar): he records while he is singing and then performs to what he’s recorded, layering it again and again live on stage.

Suba and Dylan’s show is nothing short of magic: no lip-synching, no fakery, just astounding talent, incredible vocal ranges and percussive and instrument imitations/deliveries and a mesmerizing delivery of music ranging from the Beatles to Joni Mitchell. They’ve performed around the world and we just happened to luck into an intimate show at the Act2PV theatre cabaret lounge in the heart of the Zona Romántica. From bar performers to stage stars, if you’re going to Puerto Vallarta, do not miss what wonderful David and his staff at Act2PV have lined up every night of the week. I promise you’ll be entranced.

The week ahead will be filled with last-minute goodbyes and packing: we leave Thursday to return to Canada. After a wonderful night in our own bed, I have a morning appointment Friday with my hair dresser. After four months of doing my own roots and spray-colouring here and there, plus taking manicure scissors to bangs and long bits, it’s time to put my head back in the hands of an expert. Then that same day, we board the ferry to Pender Island and I’ll see our new cabin as “ours” for the very first time. Rob’s been working his backside off getting it ready, and I’ll share stories and pictures here next Monday.

I’ll miss Puerto Vallarta and the amazing women I’ve met along the way. Kelita’s fun  app rendered this one of me, Jeanne and Cathy (they’re both from Niagara-on-the-Lake and return home today).

I’ve already booked for a month here at a different spot in November to reconnect with friends here in Nuevo Vallarta, as well as to enjoy a respite from a rainier month on the Gulf Islands. Home to Canada for Christmas for the first time in years – so we shall see what that brings. I think we’re ready emotionally; like I said, we’ll see.

Thanks for being here through all of these winter adventures. I’ll carry home a lot of memories and your good thoughts as we return.

Just a thought… Worrying is carrying tomorrow’s load with today’s strength – carrying two days at once. It is moving into tomorrow ahead of time. [Corrie Ten Boom]

Today and this week, I’m playing Beat the Clock on two different stages. I don’t even remember the actual game show by that name (or more importantly, its theme song), but those three words keep beeping through my head like a dying smoke alarm battery that should have been changed when the time went ahead for most folks this past weekend.

Beat the Clock Part ONE: Me Doing Time Zone Math.

Here in this peaceful and gorgeous area of Mexico, the clocks did not change yesterday. So, for the sake of argument, let’s say it’s 10 am here Monday. That means that Ontario, where my pal Lisa, with whom I record Gracefully and Frankly every week, is two hours ahead. So it’s 12 noon there.

But in BC, where my husband (who arrives this Sunday at Puerto Vallarta airport) is readying our new cabin for my return, it’s 9 am. So now he and I are just one hour apart. Okay….

I could write an entire blog on how BC not changing back to Standard Time in the fall, deciding instead we’ll be Daylight Time [to be called ‘Pacific Time’] from here on in, is considered by many to be ill-advised and wrong-headed. It was a poll taken years back that had two options: do you want the clock change to continue or do you want to be on permanent Daylight Saving Time? Instead of providing a third option for permanent Standard Time, the question ended there. So congrats on the big win, Province. It’ll be after 9 am when the sun comes up during the weeks in late fall and early winter when daylight is at its most scarce. I feel bad for those who have to get up – people of all ages. We are not meant to get up in the dark.

But that’s just my take, and frankly, no one asked. I’m here in the corner trying to figure out what the hell time it is in areas where the people I care about live.

Beat the Clock Part TWO: Spots on the Sheets

Both of our dogs – Livi, who’s four, and Dottie, who’ll be four on Lauren’s birthday, March 24^th – are part of a breeding program. It was the only way we could get Dottie as a mature and well-trained one-year-old, and then Livi was thrown into the mix when both girls had their first litter, met and bonded. (I’ll add here if you’re new to this story – they are from a highly-respected and acclaimed breeder in Cobble Hill, BC called Misty Trails.)

The girls are both due (by contract) to be bred this spring and somehow I booked this trip to end right around the time they’re due to go into heat. Yesterday I saw what appear to be signs that Livi (who always begins first) is starting to enter heat. OH NO. We are supposed fly back with them on March 19^th and the breeder will want us to get those dogs to her when their hormones are at their peak. I’m terrified about what this means for flights. Rebooking will cost us literally thousands of dollars, and it’s doubtful we’ll get a seat with a space for a dog (they’re limited per flight) at this late date.

So what to do? Well, for now, we’ll hope that those little spots I found on the sheets yesterday were from a thirsty bug. I’ll take some deep breaths and go back to controlling the things I can, which these days seems to be very little indeed. In these waning days of my stay down here, I am meeting some amazing women and building what will be long-distance and long-term friendships, so there’s that to focus on. The rest is just too damned much, don’t you agree?

Have a gentle week and we’ll talk with you on G&F this Thursday.