Erin's Journals

Just a thought… A fallen leaf is nothing more than a summer’s wave goodbye. [Author Unknown]

As a new season arrives this morning, I’m awash in memories of the summer that was: from the events to the moments, the changes seismic and small. As we get set for the time of year blessed with colours and crispness, come with me as we look in the rearview mirror for a few minutes together, won’t you?

We began summer with a good-bye to my father. Dad lived a full and mostly healthy 92 years and he had the passing most of us would hope for: peacefully and in the care of good people, and in the hearts of his daughters. We know he and Mom are dancing together again and we feel gratitude for having had him as our dad, and Mom’s forever partner. How he’d love what the Jays are doing these days, keeping us joyfully anxious right down to the wire!

In addition to marking six years since rehab, my summer was splashed with plenty of travel (another addiction), including my first yurt experience, shared with my sister Leslie (and my enVy pillow) in Sicamous, BC. It’s honestly my happy place, where I go when I want the fondest memories.

My endeavours on a paddle board were not entirely successful, but next time I’ll choose less wavy waters. Like a kiddie pool or a bath tub. Still, it was ahhhhhh-some.

Boarding pass in hand, I enjoyed a quick baseball-filled trip to Ottawa to watch Colin’s come-from-behind team win a championship! A glorious night and a fun visit with him and Jane and their folks.

But the geographical highlight, and one that has me literally longing to return, was our drive in the EV (uneventful too, thankfully) to Alberta. From the cheapest motels to an upscale glamping experience that definitely did not deliver the vibes I enjoyed at the yurt (lesson learned!) the most peaceful moments were spent just breathing in the beauty. And there was so much to absorb.

Finally, as I told you last week, we’re still holding our breath, but Rob and I finally seem to have sold the beloved house that has been on the market for 16 months. We haven’t decided what to do with the furniture that is still in it, but we take with us the memories – joyful welcomes and tearful goodbyes – that came with our time there. It’s where I wrote Mourning Has Broken, and it’s where we began to grow our BC roots. Those roots are developing by the day and, although the winds blow us east for visits now and then, they continue to strengthen as we open yet another chapter in our post-Toronto lives.

I’m coming to peace with not being as active or in demand as I once was. It’s a tough journey, this one. I’m realizing that enriching and joyful part of my life is mostly coming to a close (except for podcasting sleep stories on Drift with Erin Davis and, of course, weekly episodes with my friend Lisa Brandt on Gracefully and Frankly).

I walk a lot each day, listen to favourite podcasts and stay in touch with people who care to come along, here and in social media. It’s not what I thought life was going to be at this soon-to-be age of 63 (this Friday), but then, when is life ever what we expect?

Have a lovely Autumnal equinox. May you find beauty and peace in the season ahead. We’ll be looking for the same things, you and I.

Just a thought… Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience. [Ralph Waldo Emerson]

In these waning days of summer, a few thoughts as we head into pumpkin-everything season.

First off, make your own pumpkin spice coffee at home and save hugely. If sugar is not your thing, stores like Winners and HomeSense carry syrups that are zero calorie. I just love them once in a while in my coffee, while the fruity ones are great paired with soda. Often on sale, they’re a lovely replacement for alcohol in the evening.

Speaking of alcohol, it was at a certain meeting that I attended on Thursday last week that I brought up the topic of “patience.” The lesson here is one that I’ve always had trouble learning; from waiting for Rob to propose for the second time (after he’d given me a ring three weeks after our first date and then gotten cold feet) to biding my time to get respect at the radio station I called home for most of my career. Both came the way I hoped, but not as fast as I’d have liked. I wish I could say LESSON LEARNED! Then wiped my hands and moved on to other tenets of peaceful living.

So it seems our house, which has been on the market since May of last year, has finally sold. After much backing-and-forthing, bending and capitulating, we’ve gotten well below what we’d hoped for, but about what I guess one can expect in such a slow market in our price range. There was one previous offer which was so low that we basically signed it back with a number that equalled an eye-roll. The old real estate saw is that “your first offer is most often your best” but we put that saying aside and went with our guts. The second offer wasn’t perfect, but we just can’t with the bridge financing, the ups and downs and the mental toll that having a place on the market takes.

And so, before I head off to Mexico for a few months in November, we will have said good-bye to what we (once again) thought was our “forever home.” Just as we thought with the house we built from the ground up in Jackson’s Point, just north of Toronto, we could have gone out with toe tags on. But as in the case of losing Lauren and having dreams up-ended, the emotional weight this time of not having our boisterous grandkids bounding about was too much to carry. So we did what we do: we left.

We found a condo perfect for us and moved into slowly-bustling Sidney-by-the-Sea. Except for them flying the US flag this summer, it’s been just perfect, and but for the timing on the house sale, a solid decision.

So now we move on – both literally and figuratively.

Have I learned my lesson about patience? I’d like to say I have. I’m coming to the realization that my media career is ending: the speaking demand – via video and in person – has dwindled to nothing (which I expected) and I’m digging deep to find a purpose in this new chapter in my life. A suggestion that I run for MP here was one Rob and I wisely eschewed (given that Elizabeth May was a shoo-in) and I haven’t another book in me, I don’t think.

I look to my Gracefully and Frankly podcast partner Lisa Brandt for inspiration: while continuing her voicing and editing work, she’s about to self-publish the third in a fiction trilogy (find out more at the same website). She is doing morning news from her home studio for two FM radio stations in Ontario, and keeps her other hours filled with crafting, creating and coming up with new ideas for our G&F merchandising.

I’m grateful Rob and I will be spending three nights with her and Derek in October and hope some of her magic rubs off on me. After all, whenever I’m with her she gets a new voice job, so, Lisa: I’m counting on you to return the favour!

Have a lovely week and enjoy these days of changing colours, gentle temperatures and red hot baseball. We sure are.

Just a thought… Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting, So… get on your way! [Dr. Seuss]

It’s hard to imagine that we booked this trip only a few days before taking it, and now it’s almost over. Enjoy this short video as I sit with Dottie and Livi in front of Mount Kidd in gorgeous Kananaskis, which of course garnered the world’s attention earlier this year as host to the G7 Summit. I cannot imagine a more scenic backdrop for their leaders’ photo, or for mine for that matter, and I hope you enjoy it.

We head back on the ferry to Vancouver Island tomorrow night, and this Thursday on Episode 143 of Gracefully and Frankly I’ll tell Lisa some more tales from the road!

Grab a mug of whatever makes you smile this Monday, and enjoy the sights in my video.

Just a thought… We’ll be in the mountains, getting lost and feeling found. [John Muir]

Today for so many, it’s back to…everything. Here, it’s back to us.

As September gets rolling and Rob’s hockey calendar soon fills up (even at 71, a goalie’s work is never done) I felt a sense of panic that we hadn’t gone away together this summer to see more of the beauty that surrounds us.

Yes, I had my travels: to Kelowna in June to visit with Dad, and then back there to central BC to spend time with sister Leslie in a yurt. Last week I returned from a brief trip to Ottawa where I was asked to spend time with the kids while their folks went away; Colin’s championship baseball game (which his team won after barely squeaking into the playoffs) changed all the plans and everyone stayed home. I ended up feeling more in the way than of use, but I soaked in every minute with the little ones that I possibly could. And thanks again to Porter, it was a seamless trip.

Oh, and I have an INCREDIBLE small world story to tell you on this Thursday’s Gracefully and Frankly episode – it’ll be Ep. 142. Be sure to subscribe wherever you listen to podcasts (or just Google how to listen) and you won’t miss it. And, of course, it’s free.

With summer in its waning weeks, Rob and I got busy booking a last-minute road trip and it begins today! Please do drop by my Facebook page for pics and updates. Today we are on the 8 am ferry to the mainland, then go on to Kelowna and stay overnight at little sister Leslie’s house.

Tomorrow we drive past where we yurted (if that’s a word) in Sicamous and on to Revelstoke, on the BC/Alberta border. We’re booked into a cabin there – Rob, Dot, Livi and me – for two nights of resting and exploring the mountains and the area, and then we’ll be heading to Kananaskis, the gorgeous area that is east of Canmore and nestled in some of the most picturesque places on Earth. You can BET I’ll be filling my phone with shots, and sharing some with you, too.

We’ll hit Revelstoke again on our way back to the ferry next week, and stay another night there before one night in Merritt and back home by ferry on Tuesday evening. I’m looking forward to reconnecting in different locales with Rob, who I sensed wasn’t quite ready for the tenting experience. But next year, for sure – and right here on the island!

So, my friend, after a gently-paced summer with picture perfect weather here in Sidney, BC (and stressing over a house that still hasn’t sold…sigh) we are setting our maps for EV chargers, and heading to the province of my birth, Alberta. Ideologically (i.e. book bannings and paying for vaccines) I don’t recognize it anymore, but my heart yearns for the Rockies and the splendid sights around which I spent my summers with my rural Albertan grandparents.

I won’t be taking Dad’s ashes or headstone yet; 2025 is not yet engraved on it, so it’ll mean another road trip back to Alberta. I’m grateful to have a reason to look forward to one. May your week be good, and a special “coffee mugs up” to former teachers, bus drivers and all educational employees (plus crossing guards!) who are breathing a grateful sigh today to be sleeping in as I do every single day.

Just a thought… Be tolerant with others and strict with yourself. [Marcus Aurelius]

Hello from a relieved Vancouver Island! Apart from a few disgruntled campers and cranky brides, I’m pretty sure nearly everyone is thrilled that the atmospheric river has brought us all back from a fiery brink. It’s a true gift at this time when so many provinces are either fighting fires or living in fear of flames, smoke and the destruction that comes with them. So let’s hear it for the rain!

I got some good news last week and I am not going to evangelize or lecture here; I’m just going to tell you a story that has a very happy ending for me, and could for you, too.

About three years ago, when it seemed (like the rest of a post-lockdown world) nothing was in our control – as if it ever is – I decided to do something about my weight. I chose a method of eating (keto) that has been controversial to some, and does not agree with everyone. Because it requires higher fat consumption, it can mess with cholesterol or important organs (like kidneys).

I keep a close eye on those levels, both HDL (the “happy” cholesterol, thus the H) and LDL (the “lousy” one). After my bloodwork was done recently, I sweated for a few days over the red flags that the website showed on my cholesterol levels.

Last time I had my blood checked – about two years ago – my lousy levels were at 3.5. Yikes.

This time, though, was a different story. And I can tell you with 100% certainty that the only change I’ve made from the 3.5 to my current reading of 3.13 is this: walking. Turns out those red flags were because my happy (HDL) levels were up and, coupled with the LDL changes, it was all good news according to my doctor.

Back on New Year’s 2025, yes the same time I said I was going to be a little easier on myself (bahahaha), I decided I was going to follow the stoics like Aurelius, quoted above, and move my butt more.

I track my steps daily, striving for 6000, walking with my AirPods in and a good podcast playing. Getting up and pacing the condo when I’m on a long phone call. Taking the long way, parking far from store entrances. Getting in the last 200 steps of the day while my electric toothbrush does its thing (definitely my strangest trait). Walking around the kitchen island while the coffee maker chugs out its blessed brew. Those little things. (Note: I am fully mindful that not everyone has mobility, agility or the ability to walk much at all. To you I apologize if this comes off as ableist. That is not my intention.)

Those daily steps for the first eight months of this year have made all the difference. Of course, we hear that exercise, even something as gentle as walking, can lower your cholesterol. But I’m here to tell you that it is absolutely true!

That news made my week, and has quite literally put a spring in my step. Hearing that the “10,000 steps” target was one arbitrarily chosen by fitness folks, as they figured people couldn’t remember something like six or seven thousand, further steeled my resolve to do my best. I set my own goal. Initially it was 7000 and some days if I didn’t make it, I beat myself up. So 6000 it is – and then I feel like Rocky at the top of the stairs when I check in on my sobriety app at night and add my steps.

I wanted to share this because I don’t think in my entire 62 years I’ve seen such black and white (or perhaps red) proof of something working. Yes, the keto helped me achieve and hold my weight goal. But if I was setting the stage for a heart attack, what good would that be? Do coffins come in long and slim?

Oh, and one other thing: when I was being tested prior to getting cataract surgery on both eyes this summer, nurse Susie told me, “You have the blood pressure of a teenager.”

I almost proposed to her on the spot.

There you go. They say a journey of a thousand miles starts with one step and I’m here as living proof to you that, yes, it makes a difference. Find a podcast you like (may I suggest gracefullyandfrankly.com) with stories that make any walk interesting. Dress for whatever weather is in the forecast that day. Make sure you have good shoes or support. Wear a tensor bandage if you have sore joints (I can suggest something for that: SierraSil, ahem) but know that walking now could add years to your life. Sure, it may not be the best part of our lives, but it can sure be better!