Congratulations, Darren! You write beautifully and I’m humbled by your honesty and candor.  Thank you so much Darren and please remember God is only one prayer away. 

As a young child, Darren was full of happiness and joy.  He adored his mom and his dad was the kind of dad that every kid envied.  A close knit family, they did everything together.  Life was really good until a devastating illness came crashing in and a sudden tragic accident obliterated Darren’s world forever.

Count Your Blessings
By Darren Conners

Life was full of thrilling events as a kid growing up in Oshawa Ontario. We went everywhere as a family; you name it we did it.  My father was an outdoorsman and would always take my brother and I to his hunting camp to fish and ride the snowmobiles. My dad “Kim Conners” was a plumber and used his hands quite frequently until he developed Lou Gehrig’s disease (ALS – Amotrophic Lateral Sclerosis), when I was 6 years old.  My brother and I did not really know what was happening to him. We thought that it would go away in a short time.

Not knowing the full extent of this horrible disease, we lived our daily lives as if it was normal. We saw him using the hallway walls to stabilize his walk, as he would shake in pain from all the cramps. His voice was fading and became so slurred it was hard to grasp the words. It was tough for us boys because we wanted to talk to our daddy. Within a month, he was using a walker and was hardly speaking at all.

Not knowing that this was a terminal disease we still lived our lives as if we were a normal family. I do not know why my mom never told us he was going to die; maybe she did not want to scare us. His disease started to permeate through his whole body. He was suffering a loss and deterioration of all his muscles. All he could do was cry there in agony, as his death seemed near.

I remember looking at his hands in fear because they crippled from all the muscle loss. He would signal me over to light one of his cigarettes because his hands were too weak to use the lighter. He looked so frail that if he were to drop to ground his bones would break. He needed help lifting his hands to the steering wheel of his truck and his three-wheel scooter as well as turning over the ignition. They soon took his license away.

I even took on the job of showering my father because my mom was not always there. This is when I started to believe that this was not a temporary illness, but a progressive disease. Watching this disease slowly destroy my dad began to affect me emotionally. No more harmony just sorrow.

I remember sitting on my dad’s lap driving his scooter to the century home video to rent family movies. These are fond memories. Subsequently, he was placed in an electric wheel chair where it was too difficult for me to drive so we had to get our movies another way. His disease grew progressively worse, and he moved into the hospital. This scared my brother and me. We would be crying to mommy asking her why daddy is not

home. When we visited him, he was just lying there in his bed watching TV in despair, but so happy to see his two boys. His disease ate 50 pounds of muscle by the time he entered the hospital.

On new years of 2001, my mother took my brother and I to her sisters for the Christmas holidays. We went to the Sydenham ski hills for a personal new years party because my aunt was good friends with the owner. The next mourning on New Year’s Day my mom woke me up and asked me if I wanted to go back with her to the ski hill.  I said, “No I am too tired mommy”.   She said “okay” and would be back in one hour.

It was not until about 9:00 o’clock at night when my grandparents walked through the door with my aunt and uncle, and without my mom. They brought us down stairs and told us your mother has died.  I can remember the screaming still to this day, my brother and I falling into our grandparent’s arms weeping inconsolably.  She died from a freak accident, while going down the ski hill on a tube; she hit a parked snowmobile at the bottom of the hill and died on impact.

I used to blame myself for her death telling myself that if I had just gotten up and went with her she might still be alive.  However, I still thank God for taking her without pain.  I wept for months; the re-occurring image of my mother in that coffin drove me out of my mind.  I can still remember kissing my mother on her cold lips as I said my goodbyes.

 My dad ended up moving out of the Hospital and back into our home. He hired three caregivers from the Philippines to work around the clock. We communicate with him by going through the alphabet as he raises his eyebrow to a certain letter. When I was sixteen years old, he was fully immobilized and placed on life support. He lost all the muscles in his jaw and had no way of eating, so now a feeding machine does the work, as he sits there in starvation looking at all the tasty food on the commercials.

He has more medication than anyone I have ever seen. His lungs will fill up with phlegm so bad that he can drown if it is not suctioned out in time. He needs a machine to go down into his lungs from his trachea to suction it out. Watching his eyes bulge red as it went down his throat made me quiver. I became very depressed from these calamities and withdrew into depression. He is on a breathing machine and who knows how much longer he may have left to live.  Every Christmas my brother and I ask ourselves will he get to see another. 

My dad is my hero because he has battled for survival 17 years to this day without cutting his plug or going insane mentally. I am now 22 years of age and my brother 20. My dad is 54, and is going on 18 years of triumph over this agonizing disease.

To learn more about how you can help families living with Lou Gehrig’s Disease visit ALS Ontario.

Heaven has come to Byron on a divine cloud of chocolate.  Last Saturday, Chocolate Makers Matthew Scanlan and Kristen Heidt shared their decadent chocolate creations at the opening of their new Forrat’s Chocolates & Lounge, a classy cabaret of chocolate haute couture.

You’ll find yourself sinking into one of the soft leather couches with a mug of satiny smooth hot chocolate topped with fluffy whipped cream laced with a bit of Bailey’s.  Or relaxing by the cozy fireplace admiring the spicy candy-apple red walls in the inviting lounge area of this chic chocolate boutique. 

 Now, add seven menopausal women to the ambience…

And watch the fondue fly!

Tiago, a dashing young chocolate maker teased us with warm bowls of silky dark, milk and white melted chocolate so we could wrap our array of fruits, pretzels, ginger, rice krispy squares and brownies in a velvety blanket of exquisite chocolate.  Kristen added her own tasteful touch to the mix.  “Potato chips add a nice salty contrast.  You can dip almost anything in chocolate.”   

No sooner had we put down our fancy fondue forks dripping with warm chocolate, when we had a toast to “good friends forever” with a shot of incredibly smooth and sinful Chocolate Cloud 9, Matthew’s amazing secret combination of chocolate and a mystery liquid.  ABSOLUTELY TO DIE FOR!  

Celebrating the opening of Forrat’s Chocolates & Lounge was well worth the additional five pounds I’ve added to each hip!  Thank you to our gracious hosts, Matthew and Kristen for a Halloween night full of fondue fun and treats! 

To visit Forrat’s Chocolates & Lounge go to 1304 Commissioner’s Road West in Byron (in the little strip mall across from the library) or for info call 519-204-7904.  Free parking.

Successful Toronto business woman Karyn Climans, owner of Tail Wags Helmet Covers, whose writing and business savvy I admire, posted this heartwrenching yet inspiring true story on her blog last week.  Karyn thanks for sharing this thought provoking story — life can literally change on a dime. 

Life is Precious

You never know what’s going to happen one day to the next. Life is certainly unpredictable!

Several weeks ago, I heard about a Toronto single mom of 3 young sons, Tracy Dort-Kyne, who was in a severe cycling accident that left her completely paralyzed from the neck down. One minute she’s training for the Centurion Road Race and the next minute she’s lying in a hospital bed completely dependent on others. I didn’t realize at the time I’ve met this woman several times. In fact, I’ve taken her fitness classes (she was a fitness instructor at the club I belonged to previously). A beautiful and super fit mom … it could have been any one of us. Here’s the link to the web site set up to raise awareness and hopefully funds to support Tracy and her children:

http://www.tracydortkyne.com/

Riding home from Collingwood today, I heard on the radio about a 27 year old man who suffered a massive heart attack and died 5 miles before the end of the Toronto Marathon.

My dad used to count the days until his retirement. He never made it because he was killed in a car accident while overseas on business.

This blog is not meant to be depressing. All I’m hoping to do is remind every one of us that life is precious. It’s normal to get fed up with the day-to-day “stuff” but, in the bigger scheme of life, these issues are meaningless.

My first response when I arrived back home was to give my husband a big hug. I also picked up the phone and called my sons who are both away at university. I desperately wanted to hear their voices. I am so grateful my sons are happy and enjoying life at university. Of course, it’s a lot of hard work but they feel challenged (in a good way) and determined to succeed. I am also thrilled to be doing a job I LOVE and find satisfying. Far more than previous jobs I’ve held, I am 100% certain the business I am running, Tail Wags Helmet Covers, is making a difference in the world of helmet safety.

How about you? What are you grateful for and what would you like to change? Life is too short and unpredictable to waste any time doing something you hate!

Thanks again, Karyn for sharing this post.  I’m counting my blessings and keeping Tracy in my thoughts and prayers.

I am a middle child.  And like Andrea Horwath, the second oldest of four siblings “wedged into the backseat of the family’s Ford LTD” I too travelled the busy streets of Hamilton and Stoney Creek in my father’s Ford with my three siblings.  In fact, my dad’s Ford LTD was as bright a blue as a clear sky on a summer’s day!

As leader of Ontario’s NDP in a crucial political race for the Ontario Premier’s position, Ms. Horwath brings with her “steeltown” tenacity and as a middle child, “Middles just might be the best poised to succeed in life,” suggests new research by Catherine Salmon and Katrin Schumann in their new book, The Secret Power of Middle Children.

Should we take into consideration a candidate’s birth order when we mark our ballots on October 6th?  “Middleborns like Pierre Elliott Trudeau, Martin Luther King Jr. and the Dalai Lama are trailblazers and justice seekers with a drive and passion that set them apart from their attention-absorbing siblings,” says Ms. Salmon, a psychology teacher and researcher at the University of Redlands in California.  Ms. Horwath is certainly amongst good company.

As a fellow justice seeker, Ms. Horwath graduated from McMaster University, worked in literacy training, legal advocacy and community organization.  She paid her own way through school waiting tables in Hamilton bars and restaurants, a natural at connecting with people.  Middleborns seem to be more sociable and “are attuned to other peoples’ perspectives and motivations,” observes Ms. Salmon.  Does that translate to an open minded candidate that’s willing to listen and consider more than one perspective — other than their own?

Naturally a candidate’s political platform and how she can better our lives, the people she represents, are first and foremost.  But Ontarians have been governed for 8 years by an eldest child (Dalton McGuinty) with the leader of the opposition party running in this election who is also an eldest child (Tim Hudak).  Maybe it’s time we became more creative in making our decision before going to the polls this Thursday. 

The middle child gets my vote.

Sources:

• news.NationalPost.com, “Are middle children the best poised to succeed?”
• swo.ctv.ca, “Profile: Dalton McGuinty – Liberal”
• TheGlobeandMail.com, “For NDP Leader Andrea Horwath, it’s all about connecting”

I closed my eyes tight and thought back to the first time I saw a black woman. 

Wildwood, New Jersey.  1965.  We pulled up to the motel in my Dad’s shiny black Chevy.

“Look at all the balconies,” my older sister gasped.  “Do we get one?”

“Yep.  We sure do.”  Dad handed my mother the camera and headed towards the trunk.

“For Heaven’s sake, Earl! I don’t have any hands left!”

“Why don’t you take the girls inside, honey?”  Dad swung a big black overstuffed suitcase onto the hot asphalt.

“Be careful with that.  My Mom lent it to us don’t forget.”

Taking my hand Mom and I hurried to the Motel Office where my sister stood holding the screen door wide open.

“Don’t keep the door open like that.  You’re letting the flies in!”  Mother smiled quickly at the clerk behind the counter. “We’re just waiting for my husband.  He’s parking the car.”

The clerk smiled politely and went back to her work.

“Here we are,” Dad said coming through the door dropping suitcases at our feet.  “Reservation for Purmal, please.”

The clerk handed Dad a key on a big brown key ring with the number 210 written in gold.

“Straight up the stairs and to your right,” the clerk told Dad.

“Hey, do we get a balcony?”

“Shhh,” your Dad’s busy.

“Yep, with a chair!”  Dad ruffled my sister’s hair.

Mom took my hand again and we each grabbed our suitcases.  Mine matched my mom’s only smaller. 

“Careful on those stairs,” Mom waved to my sister. 

I guess because I’m two years younger I had to hold my mother’s hand all the time.  Either that or she liked me best I reasoned in my four-year-old mind.

Mom squeezed past Dad into the bathroom.  “We’ll need more towels, Earl.”

“This one’s mine!” My sister bounced on the bed closest to the window, tipping Dad’s suitcase onto the floor.

“Hey watch the suitcases!”  Dad bent over and picked up his Old Spice shaving kit from under the bed.  “You’re sharing with your sister.”

“Awww, Mom!” 

Before she could answer, we barely heard the quiet knock on our motel door.

“Maid Service.”

Mom opened the door and the heat of the day rushed into our air conditioned room. 

My mouth dropped. 

“Thank you very much, Miss.”  Mom took the stack of clean white towels. 

The woman standing in the doorway in the crisp white uniform was made of chocolate.

Mom closed the door and carefully placed the fresh towels on the chrome rack in the bathroom.  

I had to know.

“Mom, why didn’t she melt?  Is she chocolate all over?” 

“What?”  Dad stopped putting his neatly folded shirts in the dresser drawer.

“The maid?” Mom smiled.  “She’s not made of chocolate, honey.  She just has a better tan than us and yes she’s “chocolate” all over.”

Shaking his head, Dad went back to his unpacking and Mom hung our blouses up in the narrow closet with no door.

Up early the next morning, I could not wait to see her!  She came in and laughed with my sister and I and let us help her take  the pillowcases off and stuff them into the big white Santa sack.  Dad took a picture of the three of us squeezed into the round orange wicker chair with skinny wire legs right on our balcony! 

On our last day, Dad left a thank you note with some money in an envelope with her name on it on top of the TV and Mom put an unopened bag of Humbug candies on the dresser.

46 Years Later…

Opening my eyes, people are carefully manoeuvring their way down the steep theatre stairs.

“Come on, let’s go.”  My husband starts down the stairs.  “Are you coming?”

“In a minute.  I’m picking up our garbage.”

He signals down the corridor at the bottom of the stairs.  “Going to the washroom,” he whispers. 

I nod.

I think about the movie we’ve just seen, “The Help.”  I am sickened at the way some of the white Southern “society” bigots treated these amazing women in the early 1960’s.  In fact they treated their furniture better.  Yet the “help” changed their children’s dirty diapers, wiped away their tears, held them when they were scared, but most of all LOVED and raised them as if they were their own. 

Racism is learned.  We aren’t born with the “racism gene.”  I thank God everyday for my parents who taught me on that warm July day in 1965 that skin colour is just that — skin colour.  We’re all the same inside and outside except that some of us look like wonderful milk chocolate because we have a better tan.

“People say love is blind, I know that to be true because Alain is the same man today as he was the day I met him and the day I married him.  His body may be failing but his heart and his spirit are strong and he is the love of my life.” – Juanita Morris-Chabot

The world has lost a wonderful and caring man, Alain Chabot.  Alain’s brave battle with ALS ended last weekend.  His wife, Juanita, and Alain were judges of ALS Ontario’s “Make It Write” Short Story Competition.  As a tribute to Alain, I wanted to share their story of love and courage with you from a previous interview I had with them last winter.

Their Story

Newlyweds Alain and Juanita had just finished putting the finishing touches on their dream home anticipating the days when they’d enjoy their retirement together.  But on a warm summer day in August 2009, their dreams were shattered by an illness that takes no prisoners.  Alain and Juanita sat their five children down and explained that Dad had a disease with no cure — ALS.

1.  I want to ask a little bit about you, Alain — Where were you working before your diagnosis?
Alain has been with the RCMP for 35 years, as of Nov 10th, 2010.  He was actually working in Huntsville as part of the G8 team.

2.  How did you discover you had ALS?
We realized in the spring of 2009 that something was wrong.  Alain had lost about 30 pounds in three months, but had not changed his lifestyle or eating habits.  He was feeling weak on his right side and was having trouble breathing when he’d lie down.  It was after numerous trips to the family doctor, a local neurologist and a few long nights at the ER before we finally put our foot down in August 2009 and refused to leave the hospital until a diagnosis was found.   Little did we know what we were praying for. 

When we left the hospital on Friday, August 7, 2009 our lives had been forever changed.  We had to go home and tell our children that their dad had ALS.  They didn’t know what it was – heck we really didn’t know what it was.  Alain knew who Lou Gehrig was with regards to baseball and that he had died, but no real details on the disease.   

3.  How has ALS impacted your family emotionally and financially?
The emotional impact on our family is indescribable; we have 5 children all together, three girls and two boys. The girls are biologically Alain’s daughters and they have had to come to terms with their father not always being there when they need him.

Everyone knows that someday someone they love is going to pass but seeing the person you love slowly slip away from them and me is very hard. The old song says, “Some Days are Diamonds and Some Days are Stones.”  When you know that someone you love has a shortened time that they will be with you, you look for those Diamond Days and don’t dwell on the stones.

For me personally, the emotional impact is a roller coaster of feelings – some days it feels like old times and I forget that ALS has come into our lives.  Then there are milestone days when a noticeable change has occurred like when the bipap machine [a machine that helps someone breath] arrived or when he was fitted for the wheelchair.  What keeps us strong is our faith and knowing that God is walking with us on this path and that when the time comes, Alain will be restored with God.  In the meantime we enjoy every day to the fullest.

Financially we are probably more fortunate than most.  Alain’s group insurance has paid for some of the equipment that he needs and my working also helps but its the loop holes in the group insurance that drive us crazy.  Most group insurance plans pay for an item only once every 5 years. 

For example, a bath bench is not an expensive item but something he needs.  When he first realized that he would have to take a shower sitting down, it was an emotional transition. So we bought a basic ‘no frills’ bath bench and I teased him about me having a footrest for when I shave my legs.   However as the condition progressed he needed a bath bench that has arm rests, that’s longer and comes out of the tub so he can transition from the wheelchair to the bath bench.  Well because the group insurance paid for the $40 bath bench, the $129 bath bench is not covered. 

We rely on the London Handi Trans System that is over booked and under bussed.  You need to book three days in advance at 7 a.m. in hopes of getting to where you want to go and when you want to get there.  It’s an amazing service to have available but ultimately it is over booked and having to take a Handi Taxi is outrageously priced. 

Ultimately we do not have an accessible vehicle (the vehicle modifications cost more than the base vehicle) so like many others living with ALS we rely on public transportation.  Modifications to our home are not covered by the government or group insurance.  There is a plan out there I looked into where the family collectively has to earn less then $26,000 a year in order to qualify for a loan.  I’m not sure how they think you could buy a house if the family income is $26,000 so just another loophole.

4.  How did you know where to go to get equipment or what you’d need?
We have been blessed with some of the people we know who have generously given of their time knowledge and resources to make Alain’s and my life easier.  We had to sell our home last year.  It was a 2 storey and we had just finished all the renovations on what we thought was going to be our retirement home – new windows, doors, furnace, air conditioning…and then we needed to move.  So we’ve moved into a one story condo which makes it easier for both of us with grass cutting and snow removal taken care of but it is a change of lifestyle amidst all the changes that have been made in the last year.

5.  Does the government help or is it private donations or money out-of-pocket? 
All funding for ALS is private donations – there is no government funding for ALS.  From what I understand, it’s because there are not enough people affected all at the same time to qualify for government grants.  The financial burden is on the families of the patient who are already trying to deal with the worse news they’ll ever get in their lives.  Someone you love is dying and there is nothing you can do about it.  There is a program out there I think with Trillium that assists families with some of the drug costs.  I’m not really sure of what they cover.   

6.  Is living with ALS more costly to families than perhaps other debilitating diseases? 
I think that people living with ALS have a harder financial struggle.  Most people have heard of MS, cancer, Parkinson’s, etc.  These are the diseases that get government funding and a lot of press time because of the number of people affected.  A family that receives a diagnosis of ALS is not prepared for the shock of hearing there is no cure and it robs you of your loved one way too fast.  There are other diseases out there that are ultimately fatal.  I guess life is fatal eventually for everyone.  But with ALS, it’s like everyday is a new normal.  You need to adjust emotionally and financially quickly because you may not have much time to spend with your loved one.

7.  Is there anything else you’d like people to know?
Without the help and support of the ALS Society people would give up hope.  The ALS Society is an amazing resource for those who need some place to go for answers even when the answer is not what they want to hear.  The Society keeps an equipment pool for families needing a loan of equipment that sometimes you only need for a month or two before the progression of the condition necessitates another piece of equipment. 

I’ve met families that have moved thousands of miles to London to be closer to the ALS Clinic at University Hospital.  They’ve sold their house and they’ve used all of their retirement income to try and finance the needs of their loved ones. 

A person with ALS deserves the right to live with dignity and ultimately die with dignity.  A system that does not support all Canadians regardless of the condition they have is not balanced.

ALS not only attacks the person diagnosed with the condition but it attacks family unity.  Many families are torn apart because of this devastating disease, families that have had to put their loved ones into hospice or Parkwood Hospital because they could no longer emotionally or financially help their loved one.  It’s hard for us to hear that someone we’ve met in the last year has already died.

I wonder if the Government criteria was on the number of people who have died from a disease instead of the number of people living with the disease, if just maybe the ALS Society would be eligible for Government funding.

We adjust.  We cope and we take one day at a time and thank God that we have another day together.  There’s a song that says, “Live like you were dying” – no words have ever been truer in our life together. 

I know that one day Alain will be taken from me, I don’t know exactly when that will be, but it will be much sooner that I would have thought it would be three years ago when we got married.  It’s hard to see the man I chose to spend the rest of my life with change as this horrible disease takes over his body before my very eyes.  People say love is blind, I know that to be true because Alain is the same man today as he was the day I met him and the day I married him.  His body may be failing but his heart and his spirit are strong and he is the love of my life.

God’s speed, Alain.

What is ALS?
ALS also known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease is a disease of the nervous system that causes paralysis and eventually death.  There’s no known cause or cure for the disease.  As ALS progresses, the person living with the condition can’t work anymore and family members have to give up their jobs to help their loved one live with their illness.  Imagine your family losing all of your income.

Forty percent of ALS families are living in poverty!  One third of the people diagnosed with ALS are under the age of 45 – many with children.  The government doesn’t buy wheelchairs, special beds, pay for house or vehicle modifications, drugs or vitamins.  So what are these families supposed to do?

There’s still time to enter ALS Ontario’s “Make It Write” Short Story Competition.  Share your inspirational story with us – your story does not have to be about ALS.  Click here for Competition Rules and Guidelines.

For more info on ALS or to make a donation to help fight this dreadful disease visit the ALS Ontario.

Looking For A Good Samaritan?

A distraught woman on the side of a New York highway found one. A tragic bus crash early Saturday morning claimed the life of a truck driver and injured more than 30 people some critically on what was supposed to be a carefree trip from London to New York City for a group of London Life employees and their families.

Seeing the chaos caused by the fiery crash, Jacob Perkins, a U.S. Army Sgt., abandoned his pick up truck on the side of the highway and rushed to the burning bus, helped a couple of guys get off the bus then battled the smoke and flames inside the bus searching for passengers under mangled metal and debris.

For most people that would have been enough action for one day but Sgt. Perkins happened upon a badly shaken mom and daughter from London comforting each other. Her injured husband being air lifted to a hospital in Rochester, New York left them in shock at the crash site with no way of getting to the hospital.

Sgt. Perkins delayed his own plans to visit his daughter at home in Missouri. Without hesitation, he drove them to the hospital in Rochester. Unfortunately, the husband had been rerouted to Syracuse, New York and so Sgt. Perkins drove them there. He even waited with them at the hospital until some of their family members arrived for support.

Sgt. Perkins told the London Free Press, “I just stayed around so they could use my phone and pretty much just give them a friendly face – someone they knew, so that they weren’t here in America, somewhere they don’t know, all alone.”

Does the word “hero” come to mind? Not only did he risk his own life boarding that inferno searching for survivors, his compassion and kindness eased the worry and suffering for this mother and daughter no questions asked.

Sgt. Perkins is a ray of hope in our often violent and apathetic world.

Photo Source: Associated Press

Record high temperatures in most of Southern Ontario today, folks!  The heat bugs are hummin’ and so are the air conditioners and swimming pool pumps.  Can you believe I lined up outside the movie theatre on Saturday morning in the scorching sun and heat to see the new Harry Potter movie with my sister and nephew?  They could make a fortune selling water to the wilting would-be moviegoers.  Yep crazy I know but I just can’t say no to Mack the Nephew.

Harry Potter is a smash hit in my family.  Which brings me to thinking about last year’s blockbuster hit, “Eat Pray Love” that filled theatres with thousands of women escaping to exotic foreign lands of love with Julia Roberts and her handsome man (at least I got to stand in line inside for that movie).  

To beat the heat, I’m GIVING AWAY a new Eat Pray Love DVD (I didn’t want you to think I’m giving away my well used copy) so you can curl up in the air conditioning, pour yourself a cool coconut rum drink and get lost in this tropical love story.  All you have to do is put your answer to the following question in the Comments section at the bottom of the page.

*** Question:  Do you prefer a sweltering heatwave or icy snowmaggeden? ***

My Pool Today July 21, 2011

My Pool On January 21, 2011

I’ll start things off.  I’m a heatwave girl!  I can scratch my skin and it doesn’t turn white, I can see the pedicure I spent a fortune on, I love the smell of suntan lotion and I can swim in the expensive body of water in my backyard! 

Giveaway closes Wednesday, July 27 at 12:00 midnight EST and the winner will be randomly chosen and announced on Thursday, July 28 on MySaggyButt.com.  One comment per person.

Its hotter here than in Mexico!  Adios amigos!

You mean we’re not going?

Picnics are a wonderful and inexpensive way to share a romantic meal with that special person in your life.  Here’s what I suggest including in your “romantic picnic plan”:

• Picnic basket: with plates and utensils that keeps everything together. No plastic grocery shopping bags please.
• Nice comfortable blanket: not an old dusty one from the trunk of your car.
• Cloth napkins: add a touch of class to your picnic.
• Cork screw: works much better than jamming a pen into the cork.
• Fruity sparkling wine: a little bubbly adds to the mood.
• Wine glasses: You can get some very colourful and inexpensive plastic wine glasses. Paper cups don’t cut it.
• Wet wipes: nothing worse than grass stuck to your fingers.
• Cooler bag or cooler: put your ice packs in the bottom of your bag and food on top. You can put ice cubes in ziplock freezer bags but be careful because they can leak.
• Sunscreen: nobody wants the day spoiled by a nasty sunburn.
• First aid kit: keep one handy in the car. You’ll never find that old bandaid in the bottom of your purse.
• Bug repellent: don’t spray it near the food.
• Salt and pepper: leave the little packs of salt and pepper at McDonalds. You can get some pretty cute and inexpensive shakers at the Dollar store.  But make sure they have a top that closes.
• White kitchen garbage bag: you don’t want to make 15 trips to the stinky metal garbage bin.
• Water: wine never quenches my thirst so I keep a couple of bottles of water in the cooler.
• A sharp knife: nothing worse than hacking cheese off the brick with a fork.
• Something romantic to read to each other:  Sports Illustrated or Gardeners’ World cannot under any stretch of the imagination be considered “romantic.”

Now FOOD is the most important part of your outing:

• Strawberries: washed but keep the stems on.
• White Wine jelly: you can buy tiny jars at any specialty food store.
• Fancy crackers: bring them in the box so they don’t break.
• Havarti cheese: I like the havarti with dill.
• Canadian cheddar cheese: can’t beat a classic.
• Dill pickle spears: put in an airtight container in the cooler
• Wraps: spread herb cream cheese on a small tortilla, add slices of cold cuts like turkey breast and black forest ham or smoked salmon, add thin strips of red pepper, some romaine lettuce and roll. You can cut them in half if you want (very dainty).  Put them in an airtight container and into the cooler. Only store them in a ziplock bag if you’re using ice packs not bags of ice in the bottom of the cooler.
• Miss Vicky chips: a little higher end than Lays.
• Two Bite Brownies: for the sweet tooth (they don’t melt).

Ah, now enjoy!  Do you have a favourite romantic picnic menu or venue?

***I added a “Welcome to MySaggyButt.com” intro video on the front page of my site! ***

Children require guidance and sympathy far more than instruction.
– Annie Sullivan, Helen Keller’s Teacher

Casey Anthony will walk out of an Orange County jail as early as this Wednesday a free woman.  I watched the news programs with utter disgust and disbelief as people pushed and shoved to have a place in the courtroom to witness the final moments of an innocent child’s life.

Many have compared Anthony’s tantalizing trial to that of OJ Simpson’s notorious controversial trial in 1995 when he was deemed “not guilty” of murdering his wife Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman by a group of his peers. 

The jury didn’t find Casey “innocent” but rather they were unable to determine that she murdered her daughter beyond a reasonable doubt.  What is the court’s definition of “reasonable doubt?”  Is that kind of like when someone says, “I love you but I’m not in love with you?”  Rubbish. 

Before we start muttering, “well that’s the American court system,” we in Canada need to clean up our own backyard.  Convicted killer of her sister and two young high school students, Karla Homolka comes to mind whose plea bargain was her ticket to freedom after serving her minuscule sentence.

And let’s not forget Quebec’s Guy Turcotte who was found not criminally responsible for the grisly murders of his two young children even though he admitted to viciously stabbing them 46 times!  He was “depressed and suicidal” after finding out his estranged wife was having an affair with a friend. 

If I understand this defence correctly, we can go out and kill our kids if we find out our spouse is cheating, or rather our estranged spouse???  And then a tribunal can decide if we’re a danger to ourselves or society after murdering them???  Now that’s insane.  

Who’s protecting our children?  What about Caylee, Nicole and Ron?  Don’t they deserve better?  If those accused didn’t kill them then who did?  Will they forever be cold cases with the last shreds of their lives sealed in boxes in the bowels of some US federal building?  Shame on us.