On our drive to New York City, one of the questions I asked of my travel companions was, “Should I perchance run into The Pioneer Woman, what do I do?”

I have met many celebrities over the years, or should I say almost met.  I came close to many and felt that I shouldn’t approach them because they were in their downtime.  Who am I to go up to them and and talk to them and possibly interrupt their day?  Nobody, I am just a fan who admires their work, so onward I go leaving that moment behind me only ingrained in my memory.  So, I asked my travel companions what I should do, is the blog celebrity world the same as television or movie stars? Is it alright if I walk up to The Pioneer Woman and shake her hand and blubber on and on in nervousness?  Are there rules for this?

Nobody had the answer.

On Thursday night, when I was celebrating with the other Ladies who traveled to BlogHer in a Chevrolet sponsored by GMCanada, I spotted Marlboro Man going into the elevators.  I was a couple of drinks in and in a good mood and I almost, yes almost yelled out to him, “Hey Marlboro Man, tell your wife we love her!!!”  Then I chickened out and he got into the elevators.  Then, he came back down!  And it took all my Canadian politeness to keep it in again.  This could be the closest I would get to saying hello to his gorgeous wife.  I let it go, I remembered my manners and the fact that he may or may not call security to have me removed from the Hilton.

The conference went on and there were no further sightings of either Marlboro Man or The Pioneer Woman.  I saw her tweets, wished I had been at her cocktail party (but really, I do not cook as well nor photograph my food as well as PW or her guests) so onward I went.

On Saturday afternoon, in between lunch and sessions I dropped into the trade show with A Capital Mom, we were checking out some of the booths, and I turned around and beside me was The Pioneer Woman.  I am sure she was thinking who is this crazy woman pointing at me, but I said, with my finger pointing towards her (sorry Dad, shame on me I know), “May I say hi?”  And she said, “certainly”.  Gosh I almost passed out.  I think I told her I was BeachMama but, did not give her my real name, nerves, then went on to thank her for my mixer, thank her for inspiring so many people with her website and tales of her family and held her hand for a brief moment.  Then let her go.  Off into the trade show, most likely running away from me as fast as she could.

A Capital Mom had sort of moved on and back tracked.  I wanted a photo of that moment, but couldn’t do a self-portrait shot with my big Nikon, so let it ride. It wasn’t like I wanted to pull my iPhone out of my bra in front of The Pioneer Woman to take a picture.  It was ok, I could let it go, I had that memory forever ingrained in my memory.

Then later that evening, we were all standing in the lobby waiting to go for dinner when who should also be waiting, but The Pioneer Woman.  It took a long time for me to get up the courage to ask for a photo and it truly was GlidingLara who convinced me to do it.  GlidingLara wasn’t going to let me let it slip away, so I set up my camera for her (with the flash that I NEVER use) and off we went.  The Pioneer Woman was so sweet, remembered that I was BeachMama to which I told her my real name, we had a small laugh, then moved into better light to get a shot.

And so we have the photo, proof that I did meet The Pioneer Woman, that I did make a huge fool of myself and that I really need to work on my introduction to strangers.

Thank you Pioneer Woman, my smile in this photo alone says so much.  I was really, really happy to meet you in person and to thank you for all that you give to your readers, both in stories and gifts.  You are a gem and an inspiration to others and so, so beautiful. Thank you for letting me get a photo of us and so sorry I didn’t have my proper flash with me, I shot from the hip most of the weekend and didn’t want to carry more than I needed to, lesson learned.

Until we meet again,

BeachMama

 If you spend anytime in Ottawa back in the late early ’90s you would remember this guy.  He watched over all the partying at the Yucatan Liquor Stand.  And I can say I was there.  For a good period of time my girlfriend and I were quite the regulars there. We danced, we met friends there, we just simply had fun.  And the fact that it was all decked out in surfboards and all things beachy meant that I loved it even more.

Then one day, one Canada Day, the Liquor Stand may have let in a few too many people.  So they had to close for a week or so and it would seem they never did recover from that.  A few new places opened and everyone seemed to go to those places so Yucatan’s just closed up shop.  With much less fanfare than we would have liked.  One day it was open the next it was not.

It has been several bars or restaurants since then, but nothing seems to have lasted as long nor been as popular as Yucatan’s.  I miss it.  I don’t miss the creepy guys trying to pick me up, but I miss the fun times that were had, I miss that you could dance on the surfboard tables and speakers and you didn’t get kicked out.  I miss that you could show up in your surf shorts and a tank top or a dress and heels and you were always welcome at Yucatan’s.

Of course, I guess this post really should be about the fact that I miss being 22 sometimes and since I will be hitting 40 in a couple of months I was feeling kind of nostalgic on Saturday when I walked around the Market for the Scott Kelby PhotoWalk (more here).  All the places I used to know and love are long gone and replaced by places so foreign to me it is like they never existed. And Yucatan’s was by far my favorite of all the places that have come and gone. Thanks for the fun.

When the weather cooperates, I hate and I mean HATE to stay in the house.  Although I prefer lounging surfside with a good book and some sand between my toes, I make do with what I have.  Every year I spend countless hours outside with my laptop.  When the kids nap, I take this opportunity to catch up on things and get a bit of work done.

This is one of the three spots that I use.

Today I am sitting here because I have a large quantity of photos to go through from the weekend and since I am just sorting and tagging (as opposed to doing any editing) I prefer to sit under the canopy in the lounging chair with my coffee and water and the sounds of the birds chirping in the trees.  The canopy gives me just the perfect amount of diffused light on my flat screen so I don’t get any reflections and can sit here and enjoy the great outdoors.  If I were doing any editing, I would suck it up and take it inside but for now I can enjoy this gorgeous day.

And as you can see I have extra seating if need be.  Grab your laptop and head outside!  That was the first reason I ever got one.

To see what I have been up to be sure to stop by my photography blog.

ETA: This post was inspired by @ErinBlaskie and her Tweet this morning.

Someone you can count on anytime anywhere.

Someone you can laugh with and someone you can cry with.

Someone who knows when you just need a cuddle or a hug.  And someone who knows when to leave you alone.

Someone who will make your favorite dinner on your birthday.

Someone who will back you up when times get rough.

Someone who is not afraid to tell you as it is.

I have been a Mom now for fifteen years. And I can’t thank my Mom enough for giving me the guidance I needed to be a Mom to a child that I didn’t give birth to.  A may not be my birth child, but it didn’t make it any less different for me, I still love him with all my heart.  The hardest thing about being a Mom in this way was that I had to send him back home to his birth mother after only a few days together.  And fifteen years later, it doesn’t get any easier.

Being a Mom to my own two children is the most amazing thing in the world.  And I don’t have to send them anywhere at the end of the day, except their own beds.  Perhaps this is why I have such a hard time with the idea of leaving the kids and going away, I never want to leave my kids.

I started writing this post for LouLou’s Mother’s Day Giveaway, but I simple ran out of time to finish.  But, I had to finish.  I had to show you why it is all so worth it. Every tear, all the sweat, all the cuddles, all the laundry.  Everything, is just so worth it to get to spend time with these two.

I love being a Mom.

Shannon over at Picture Imperfect tagged me write about my perfect day and Shannon was inspired by Capital Mom.  I have thought about what my perfect day would entail and I have a few scenarios that keep running through my head.  There is the absolute perfect day that would only be possible if I had a lot more money than I do now and there is the realistic perfect day, which would be something I could actually obtain much sooner since it would be within our means already.

Absolute Perfect Day would start out with waking up in my bedroom in The Yellow House in Rehoboth.  The ocean breezes would be coming in through the open windows and the kids would be bringing Hubby and I breakfast that they put together for us.  We would take our morning stroll on the boardwalk to get coffee and a paper. We would then head to the beach for a swim and possibly a surf, home for lunch on our beautiful porch and out for an afternoon drive down the coast to Ocean City for dinner.  An evening stroll on the boardwalk for some lemon ice and chocolate fudge and home to bed for a good nights rest.

My Realistic perfect Dad would be almost exactly the same, the only difference would be that we wouldn’t be waking up in The Yellow House, but in our rented cottage and the kids wouldn’t necessarily be making our breakfast.  The rest of the day would be exactly the same.

Each year we head down to the Beach and spend our time doing what we love the most.  We have those perfect days, we go for our morning and evening and sometimes mid-day stroll, we go for a swim and we head out for dinner. We add in a lot of other fun stuff too, which is why we return year after year.  Some people might think we are nuts to keep this tradition that has been in my family for 50+ years going, but truly we love it and look forward to the smell of the ocean air and the strolls on the boardwalk.  We live out our perfect day  at least seven times each year.  It keeps us going back for more.

What would your perfect day consist of?

As most of my readers know, I don’t always do well with accepting awards or tagging others to participate in a Meme. It’s that Canadian thing in me, I think, about not wanting to bother anyone if they don’t feel like doing this sort of thing. However, Shannon is always pushing me (in a totally good way) to do things I wouldn’t normally do. And this is another one of those instances.  She awarded me the Honest Scrap Award. And honestly, I think it is pretty cool.

The Honest Scrap Award Rules say that I must:

1. Brag about the award.
2. Include the name of the blogger who gave you the award and link back to that blogger.
3. Choose a selection of blogs that you find brilliant in honest content.
4. Show their names and links and leave a comment informing them that they were prized with this award.
5. List at least ten honest things about yourself.

So first, I should thank Shannon, not only for being Crafty, but for encouraging me to try and do new things. Shannon and I barely knew each other when I did their family portraits last year, but since that time we have become fabulous friends. And here she goes again giving me an award, which I am quite honored to receive.

I must share with you ten honest things about myself. Some of these things you may know and some may come as a surprise, it all depends on how long you have been stopping by my little beach.

1. I play a cello.  Yes, a cello.  Now, to be brutally honest, I am pretty rusty right now not having played in a few years, but if I broke her out and set her up, I could be back up to speed in no time at all.  And no, I was not inspired by Tchaikovsky or Ofra Hornay but by Lori Singer as she played cello on Fame back in the day. I needed to play a stringed instrument to get into a certain Middle School, so I chose the cello.  Not the small violin that I could easily carry, but the cello.

2. To continue with the whole Fame situation, I was a dancer.  I danced Jazz back in the day, adding in tap but not ballet.  My teacher told me I was too big (read tall and flat footed) to take ballet.  I should have switched schools, but I didn’t instead I excelled in Jazz and dreamed of making it big and dancing on Fame.  Then one day I got a boyfriend and dancing took backstage in my thoughts and I gave it up.

3. But, not completely. My girlfriend and I spent our High School years coordinating and performing Airbands.  I have been a Pointer Sister, a , John Travolta (Yes, I was John), a Poindexter, a band member for Diana Ross and a back up singer for Patti Labelle (the only one we didn’t win first place). And in turn we performed at the Nepean Student Showcase, Gloucester Fair (with Alanis Morrisette, who would kill me if I ever released her demo single that her Mom made us all buy, yes I still have it), the Super Ex, on two local tv shows and on top of the Rideau Center. Phew.  And I have that all documented with terrible VHS videos and photos.  The ’80s weren’t really that kind.  We also performed numerous times at school and at other schools, all in the name of dancing.

4. To keep it up, I was also a Cheerleader.  Not that our team was all American like I would have preferred, but we were good.  Some say the best.  Cheerleaders today are so much more all American that I think I would prefer to be a Cheerleader now than back in the ’80s.  I have high hopes for Apple.

5. I love to sing.  Ack!  I said it out loud!!!  I have never officially performed on stage, like with a band, but I have enjoyed Karaoke many times and was forced by my boss to sing Christmas carols acapella in front of a crowd of 300 employees whom I had hardly met yet. And some how I did it without and booze being involved.  I would love to get up and sing properly, I just lack the band (I mean I have a guitarist in the basement, but somehow singing Yes or Rush songs just doesn’t cut it for me).  So if you ever pull up next to me in your car, no I am not talking on the speaker phone, I am singing my heart out and the kids are my back up singers.

6. I am afraid of the dark.  Not in a I can’t go into a room if it is dark, but I don’t like it and will flip on lights whenever possible. It freaks me out.  So when my kids say they are scared because their room is too dark, I fluff it off and tell them not to be ridiculous, meanwhile I am inside screaming to turn the light on.  I am trying not to pass on my silly fears to my kids.  That and when Hubby is around I am not as afraid.

7. I used to fix cars.  I think I have mentioned this before in my blog.  Somewhere in the last almost five years.  Back in the day when cars were simple my Dad would show me how to fix things because you could.  Not so much these days, but there are simple things I do remember how to do and could do if I wanted to (change the oil, change belts and tires).  I spend years driving around with a toolbox in the trunk and an extra alternator because mine would break all the time.  Nothing like changing it on the side of the road in the darkness of the Manitoba Prairies.

8. I have a BA from Ottawa University with a concentration in English.  Now you are all laughing at me, I know, English?  Who am I kidding?  I didn’t say Grammar, I said English, I know my grammar is terrible, but I read lots of books and enjoyed literature so much that did it as a concentration.

9. I should have gone to Algonquin.  This is one of those regrets that we aren’t supposed to have, but I do have.  Oh well.

10. I was a bartender for eight years.  I miss it.  I loved making drinks and getting paid to stay in shape.  I don’t miss getting home at 3am and I don’t miss serving people drinks who you knew were spending their last dollar getting drunk, but I did it.  I bought a car and a house while I was a bartender, nothing wrong with tending bar, nothing at all.

And those are my ten honest things about me.

Now I have to choose a selection of bloggers to award this Honest Scrap Award to, and I have to say all of these ladies are truly honest in their writing and I love stopping by and sharing in their lives.

To Chrissy and her Random Thoughts and Musings on the Island

To Kami over at Kami’s Khlopchyk

And to Pam at Easily Amused

There are many more that I stop by, but I believe they have already been tagged with this award so I thought I would share the love to those I don’t think have been.

Thanks again Shannon, for giving me that push I sometimes need.

I can’t believe I haven’t shared the story of my love of motorcycles with you, or perhaps I have and can’t find it, either way here it is.

I love motorcycles.  I do, really, really do.  I don’t love the drivers in their cars who don’t shoulder check and the yahoos that drive 160kms an hours, so I got rid of my bike.

In High School, there was this boy who had a bike.  He was pretty cool, but not ‘my type’ kinda cool.  Everyone knew him with his long hair and talent for his guitar.  He was one of three guys who had a bike back then.  We knew each other, but didn’t really hang out.  I used to covet his motorcycle.  My Parents refused to let me get one, which is probably why they helped me buy my first car.

Then, my parents moved to Manitoba.  One day I realized that I could now learn how to drive a motorcycle and buy one!  In the Fall of 1989, around the time that the boy in HS sold his bike, I took the Provincial course on learning to drive a motorcycle.  Then winter came and went.  I lived just off of Heron Road at the corner near Bank Street.  One day when I was out jogging, I stopped in the Ottawa Goodtimes Center.  BIG MISTAKE.  I fell in love with a bike.  And walked away with it in May of 1990.

Oh man, I LOVED that bike.

Look at me all happy, with crazy hair and the pink stripe on my super fast and cool Kawasaki EX500 (now a Ninja 500). This is from the summer of 1990.  Ironically, where this photo is taken is at my old best friends house.  I used to hang out there a lot.  So did his brother with his friend, boy with the bike from HS.  For whatever reason, I let him ride my bike.

Life went on, I eventually moved me and my bike to Manitoba and back again. Then came a time when I needed a new car.  My old car was tired and I couldn’t swing a new car and my motorcycle at the time.  Add to that the fat that my Dad really didn’t like my bike, so I made a deal.  I would try to sell it and if it sold I would get a new car and if it didn’t there would be no more discussion about my bike.  It sold.

Fast forward to 1995.  I am hanging out at my best friends house (even though he lived in Alberta) and his brother was home for the summer and hanging out with his friends and boy with a bike happened to be there too.  Brother went home and boy with a bike kept on hanging out with me. Neither of us had bikes but we still shared the same love of them.

Fast forward 1999.  Boy with bike became, Hubby!  and neither of us still had a bike.

The dream has been alive in him, apparently for the last 11 years because last Fall he started talking bikes.  Ack!  We have two small children, why? It’s silly.  All those things came to light in the discussions about a bike.  The biggest being that he wanted to get a 900cc bike, much to big for BeachMama to drive comfortably.  Then, he came upon the same bike he used to own, only custom painted.  Not only was it 500cc, but the cost was just right for a little hobby.

On Wednesday, Hubby arrived home like a kid in a candy store.  He is once again the boy with the bike.

It needs a teeny bit of work and Hubby needs a new helmet, but suffice to say, there will be some bike riding in our future and it has made Hubby one happy guy.

 So here I go a walking down memory lane again.  Now, to you guys this is a new thing, but to me it happens almost every day.

When I drive down a certain stretch of Merivale Road, every single time, I am reminded of when we lived at 81 Pineglen Crescent.  And most of my memories of Pineglen are of Thanksgiving and Winter.  We lived there from 1973-1978 (minus the year in England).  I don’t remember sitting at the dining room table and eating Thanksgiving dinner, but I remember the leaves in the Fall and dressing up warm and the feeling of Thanksgiving.  And Winter, oh you all know me as BeachMama, but back then I was a Winter Baby, my Sister and I would spend hours and hours and hours playing outside in the snow, with our best friends across the street.  They had a hill behind their house that we would toboggan down all day long, only stopping for lunch and bedtime.

I have no idea who took this photo of my Dad, but here he is in front of Pineglen.

The house looks exactly the same now as it did then, same colour and everything.  Only the pine tree by the front door is now so big that you can’t actually see the front door.  And they made the back porch that we had bigger with a huge deck.  This house sits on an acre of land, pretty good for the size of properties now a days.  The man we rented from still owns it, or at least his son does and still lives there.  Every now and then, I take a drive down Pineglen and wonder what it looks like inside and if it is as big as I remember or just a teeny space.

Here is a fun little series.  The first photo is of me and my best friend Keith.  We spent every day together playing and having fun.  The last time I saw him was back in the 1980’s we were both in high school and so not into being friends anymore. But, as far as best friends go, he was awesome.  Maybe that is why I have always gotten along with guys, my first best friend was one.  In the second and third photo Keith and I were wrestling with my Unlce Merf, my Mom’s brother and his daughter is in there helping.  And in the last photo my Grandma and Step-Grandfather were watching on in all their Scottish glory.

Here is another shot in the backyard, with my Sister and I in matching outfits, that I totally remember wearing.  I even got hers when she grew out of it, two for the price of one my Mom would say. My Grandma was in all her glory with the girls.  Not sure where my cousin Jeff was, perhaps he was just born at this time or almost born.

This last photo is a little more special because my Grandmother in this photo was only with us for a short time (for us kids as she was actually 76 when she passed away).  She passed away in 1976 and this photo is probably 1974/75.  My Sister and I are here with our other Cousins who were visiting with Grandma from Montréal.  This is the only photo I have of Grandma.  And the few extra there are stay with Mom and Dad.  Yet another reason I became a photographer at such a young age.

Looking at my Sister and I, I can totally see Apple in me and my two nieces in my Sister, funny how it works that way.

Thanks for walking with me down that lane… I may move into the ’80s soon, but it is a little more scary as I had a camera!

As I was setting the table last night, I had a moment.  One that I didn’t think I would ever have, but it happened so I can’t ignore it.

Growing up my Mom cooked dinner every single night, well except when we went out for supper, but that rarely happened so basically she cooked every single night.  And it was our job as the kids to set the table.  Every night, Mom would call one or all of us to come set the table for dinner.  My Sister and I would fight over it until the younger ones were old enough then, we let them have it.

Dad may have been late for dinner, but for the most part we all ate together every single night.  Something that Hubby and I have been doing too since we have been together.  Dinner time around the family table is very important to us.  For the most part the tv is off and we share in our day with each other. Even when A is here he knows that is it family time at the table and you have to share.

Hubby and I had been talking about getting a new table for a while. Our old one we bought before we were married from the grocery store, it was inexpensive, but served it’s purpose.  Now that Apple is no longer sitting in her clip on chair, it had become increasingly obvious that we needed a larger table to seat our whole family.  We have been on  a search for one, but nothing we saw suited us nor met our needs.

Before Christmas my Mom and Dad finally decided it was time to get a new kitchen table.  The one they had they bought before they were married.  It had been used and abused and refinished and just didn’t match their kitchen.  Mom and Dad, knowing we were looking for a bigger table, asked us if we wanted it.  At first, we were a little reluctant, it’s old (43 years), a different colour than ours, funky chairs.  But, we decided it would make do until we found the table we were looking for.

Last night as my daughter was helping me set the table, which without its extra leaves is still larger than our old one, I realized that for most of my life, I have eaten at this very table.  I had my first birthday at this table, my first day of school, middle school, high school.  My first date sat and got grilled from my Dad at this table.  My friends would gather around this table after school for snacks, I have done homework at this table I have cried at this table.  This is the Family table.  After it sat in our kitchen for a couple of days, Hubby and I both realized how well it matched the cabinets and even with it’s funky chairs, we love it.  It is entirely possible that we will not continue our search for a new table, because the this table, the one that has now been passed down to me from my Parent is all we need.

 I have spent a lot of time this holiday sitting in this chair.  It is my favorite spot this year.  I love how the lights sparkle off of the decorations.  And from this spot I can see my whole living room with the tree, the toys and even a bit of the outside neighborhood with their houses decorated and glowing in the warmth of the season.

Today, I have been trying to think of how best to say good-bye to 2009, but nothing is coming to me.  So, instead I will just write a little post thinking of the things that have happened this year.

In some ways it wasn’t the best year, but in others it was a great year.  I said good-bye to an old Friend and a beloved Uncle.  We missed out on our annual trip to Regina due to changes in the economy and school. But, were blessed with a surprise trip East from the Regina contingent. We made it on our annual trip to the Beach  and still felt like it wasn’t long enough. Our annual trip next year is hoping to be a little longer.

We had a wonderful week with our Cousins from the South in Ottawa and were thankful that we were able to attend a 50th Wedding Anniversary of our Aunt and Uncle. We were blessed with a trip to California to meet friends that I only ever dreamed of meeting.  And a little visit to Disney was just icing on the cake.

I finally took the chance and started my long dreamed of photography business, it has been a good year for making dreams come true. I am thankful for all the families, Moms-to-be and new babies I got to capture.  I am also thankful for being chosen to document some wonderful weddings and beautiful women. Without all of you, my dreams would still be just that, dreams.

I hope that 2010 brings me closer to some of the friends I have made and been reacquainted with in 2009.  My hope is that it brings happiness and joy to all my friends and family.  And that we are all blessed in the Year to come.  And a thank you to all my readers, you have all been there for me and I wish you all the best that 2010 has to offer.  I will be celebrating my 5th Anniversary of blogging next year, it’s been a wild ride and oddly enough I have now been blogging longer than I was in High School.

Until 2010,

BeachMama.