If I can log, why can't I blog?

I got an email the other day announcing my blog's seventh birthday. As you can plainly see, I haven't posted anything in years! I could say that life got in the way, but the truth is that I'm a lazy, undisciplined writer. Oh, I'm a dedicated logger, I'm just not a blogger.

For years, nay decades, I have recorded my weight on a daily basis. I started by writing it on old-school wall calendars that I hung on the door inside my clothes closet, then progressed to a spreadsheet in Google Docs, now known as Google Drive. When on a diet, I've hand-written every scrap of food I ingested, starting in the nineties when a group of  Shoppers Drug Mart co-workers and I started going to Weight Watchers on our lunch hour. (I'd kill to be at what was once my "starting weight"!) We all filled our weekly Weight Watchers log books. Later, when I worked at Henry's, I tried Atkins, and painstakingly documented my food and beverage intake in notebooks, carefully noting the net carb count down to the half-carb, staying within my allotted range depending on which Atkins Phase I was in. I added daily thoughts in bullet point form.  

When I started wearing a pedometer, I opened up a Google Docs spreadsheet where I've logged my distance, time, steps, speed, and calories based on the TrekLinq's daily data, along with the location of my walks (Toronto, Collingwood, Cuba, wherever...) and, of course, my weight (unless I'm on vacation, when I log the name of the city in the weight column). I create one tab for each year, and have a complete record that dates back to November 30, 2005. Wow.

In 2006, I started a joint spreadsheet with a few of my fellow book lovers. The idea was that we'd share what we were reading, add comments, and inspire each other to try new authors. Sadly, my desire to record everything resulted in almost all of my friends erm, "opting out" of my shared spreadsheet. And when we were down to just two of us, my friend announced her hatred of me, calling me the "most selfish, self-absorbed, self-centered person on the planet". But that's another story, best left untold and forgotten. Anyway, I saved her entries in a separate spreadsheet in case we reconciled and she wanted her information, unshared my spreadsheet and changed the name from "Smart Women Like to Read" to "Lynnie Likes to Read". There I document my reading activity, including the author name, book title, date started, date finished, and how I felt about the book. This  spreadsheet has proven quite useful, as I now avoid accidentally rereading a novel.

Today we have Goodreads to help us with this task, but me being me, I not only log my reading activity in Goodreads, but I still maintain my spreadsheet. It comes in handy when I go to the Collingwood Public Library, looking to read everything a favourite author has published. Yes, I've moved away from eBooks back to "book books", though I prefer to take out both the "book book" and the eBook at the same time. This helps with my insomnia, allowing me to read in bed while my husband sleeps without having to turn on the lights!

So, if I can log so extensively, obsessively and regularly, why can't I blog? It can't be a preference for Excel over Word (or their Google generated facsimiles). I love Word! I love writing! My emails more often resemble short stories than quick messages. So why?

I have no answer.

Our motorcycle trip last September ...

In order to refresh everyone's memory, and/or for the benefit of those who were not Facebook friends of mine last year, I've compiled the status updates describing our motorcycle trip last fall. Let's hope that this year's trip has even more adventure, and much less misadventure! Good times ... 

Lynn

September 1, 2013 near Criders Corners, PA

Day 1 of our motorcycle trip. We did not, as Dave intended, leave early. Why? Because he spent well over an hour looking for his rain pants. Which I found for him. Oh, and guess what he forgot to pack? MY rain pants. So, when the skies opened up near Erie, PA, I donned his!

Drivers were pulling off to the side of the road because of the rain. We just ploughed through it, and truth be told, it was fun. It's all part of the two-wheel adventure!

September 2, 2013 near Criders Corners, PA

Day 2 of our motorcycle trip dawns. I review the hotel bill that was slipped under our door, and gasp at the price of our dinner last evening. It almost equals the price of the room, which was not cheap to begin with!

And for a restaurant that prides itself on its signature ravioli offerings, including a chef-inspired "ravioli of the day" at "market pricing", should Dave have had to send it back because it was cold? No. I am, however, optimistic about this morning's buffet breakfast. Which is, no surprise, not "complimentary".

The adventure continues.

September 3, 2013 near Beckley, WV

Day 3 of our motorcycle trip dawns. I had hand-washed our high tech, "quick-dry" t-shirts the moment we checked into our freezing cold hotel room. After an uncomfortable night, I awaken and check the tees. They are still wet. I attempt to dry them with the hotel's blow dryer. This doesn't work, because the cord is too short for me to hang them anywhere while I use the dryer.

I decide to iron them dry, being careful to choose the Synthetic setting so as not to burn them. This fails. Now, instead of being wet, cold and clammy, they are wet and hot. We'll be packing them in a plastic bag, and wearing something else for today's ride. I haven't told Dave yet. Luckily, we're only about four hours (plus meandering) away from tonight's destination. Little Switzerland, here we come!

September 3, 2013 near Little Switzerland, NC

Day 3 of our motorcycle trip continues. It's chilly in the mountains! The lady in the suite next to us lends me her fleece and her scarf.

September 4, 2013 near Little Switzerland, NC

Day 4 of our motorcycle trip dawns. It is very peaceful and serene at the Switzerland Inn. Despite my mild(ish) hangover brought on by the three single malt Scotches consumed after our bottle of wine last evening, I awaken early.

I decide to sit quietly outside and enjoy the sunrise over the mountains, while Dave sleeps. I lock myself out. Luckily, Dave had left a window open. Not wanting to wake the neighbours, but needing to awaken my husband, I bark softly, pretending to be Lola McPoopie. Thank God this works!

September 4, 2013 near Little Switzerland, NC

Day 4 of the motorcycle trip continues. We tour the area, riding the Blue Ridge Parkway. When we return, Dave says he doesn't like the sound of the battery, which is not that old. He is worried that it will fail.

We have an appointment at the BMW dealership in Asheville tomorrow morning at 11:00. Hopefully the bike will start tomorrow morning and we can ride there. I'm also hoping that batteries are cheaper in the US than in Canada!

I wonder if we have to declare the battery as part of our duty-free purchases when we return. Hmmm.

September 5, 2013 near Little Switzerland, NC

Day 5 of our motorcycle trip. We get up early to ride to the BMW dealership in Asheville. I iron the blouse I want to wear to the Biltmore Estate. Dave packs all our "street clothes" and we head out. We arrive at the dealership and after dropping the bike off (we apparently also need a new rear tire as well as a new battery) I hit the change room. I have forgotten to give Dave the blouse I wanted to wear. We hit trendy Biltmore Village so I can buy a top. Otherwise, I'd be wearing white capris and a white tee-shirt. No. I find something suitable and purchase it.

September 5, 2013 near Little Switzerland, NC

Day 5 of our motorcycle trip continued ... We walk from Biltmore Village to the Biltmore Estate and head to the first gate. We are informed that you cannot walk in, you have to have a vehicle. What??? Doesn't ANYBODY walk anywhere in the US?

I inform the security guard that we are travelling on a motorcycle, which is at the dealership having a new battery installed, so we don't HAVE a vehicle. He tells us we can walk back to Group Sales, tell them our story, and they will send a shuttle to pick us up. Whatever. We do so.

Eventually, a shuttle bus comes to get us. It is a 2 mile drive to the Biltmore house. Who knew? Halfway there, I say to our driver, "We must have looked like IDIOTS walking up to the main gate." Being a polite Southerner, he did not reply.

September 6, 2013 near Knoxville, TN

Day 6 of our motorcycle trip is winding down: We shipped our purchases so far (and our dirty laundry) back to Canada just before checking out of the Switzerland Inn. Then, another trip to the Asheville BMW Motorcycle dealership -- Dave was convinced the new battery wasn't holding its charge. He was wrong. Nevertheless, he bought a portable battery charger. Whatever.

Then, off to Maggie Valley, where Dave crossed a number of items off his bucket list: Maggie Valley itself, a tour of the Wheels through Time motorcycle museum, and a ride through the Smokey Mountains to Tennessee.

We reserved a room in Gatlinburg and Pigeon Fork TN, "just in case". We ride through Gatlinburg, (not for us), into Pigeon Forge.

September 6, 2013 near Knoxville, TN

Day 6 of our motorcycle trip continued ... We skip Gatlinburg and head to Pigeon Forge. Apparently, there is a HUGE classic car show in town. I will let others describe this phenomenon:

"We won’t sugarcoat this…Pigeon Forge car shows bring lots of cars…therefore lots of traffic. Lots of traffic. Locals often refer to it as “gridlock” and visitors who roll into town not knowing a car show was going on end up leaving and saying they will never
be back. Simply put, make sure you know the dates of Pigeon Forge car shows!"

Exactly. Which is why we are, rather than in Gatlinburg or Pigeon Forge, in Knoxville tonight.

September 7, 2013 Relaxing after a lot of I-75 riding — at Doubletree by Hilton Lexington.

Day 7 of our motorcycle trip continues. The weather is perfect. I have run out of clean high tech "travel panties" and wear a regular pair for today's travels. Unlike the travel panties which are French cut, these are bikini. The delicate skin in the area where some women (not I) have a "tramp stamp", has direct contact with my mesh vented motorcycle pants. I feel the chafing the entire time we're on the highway.

I am now hand washing my travel panties in the hotel room sink. I hope they're dry by checkout time tomorrow.

September 8, 2014 near Lexington Manor, KY

Day 8 of the motorcycle trip begins. And it looks like Dave might have been right about there being a problem with the battery draining after all! He hooked it up at the Doubletree last night and gave it a full charge. This morning? It's almost dead.

The bike is now plugged in and charging right in front of the hotel's door. How are we going to make it back to Toronto from Lexington? The adventure continues.

September 8, 2013 near Lexington Manor, KY

Day 8 of our motorcycle trip and we are stalled. Luckily there is a BMW dealership on Lexington.

We check in once again. The bike is now completely dead. — at Doubletree by Hilton Lexington.

Note: Dave had mistakenly assumed that the Lexington BMW dealership had a motorcycle department. Further investigation revealed his error. The closest dealership is in Louisville, a mere hour and a half away on the I-64. We decide to make the best of it and enjoy the day.

September 8, 2013 near Lexington Manor, KY

Day 8 of the motorcycle trip is winding down. Stuck in Lexington, we take a cab downtown. All the stores are closed. We find a few open restaurants and eat at one.

We were told at the Welcome Centre that the circus was in town and where the animals were. Heading that way, we pass the Hyatt, which is insanely busy. I gather the Barnum & Bailey show was right next door.

I hit an uneven patch of sidewalk, and take a header, falling and scraping (shredding) my right palm, and my right arm from the palm to the elbow. Not one person comes to my aid. Other than Dave, no one asks me if I'm okay, or if I need help. No one.

Kentucky may pride itself on its friendliness and good manners, but when someone truly needs help? Not so much. The "adventure" continues, along with considerable bruising and raw patches.

September 9, 2013 near Lexington Manor, KY

Day 9 of our motorcycle trip begins. We are rushing to get ready so we can call the flatbed tow truck service to haul us to Louisville. I hope they can look at and repair our bike today. Positive thoughts for us, people. Please!

September 9, 2013 near Lexington Manor, KY

Day 9 of the motorcycle trip. We are still waiting to hear if we can even GET a frigging tow truck to take us to Louisville. The frustration mounts.

September 9, 2013 near Lexington Manor, KY

Day 9 of our motorcycle trip drags on. But there is some good news! Our tow truck will be here in about two hours. The dealership in Louisville is expecting us. There is just one teeny problem: two of their service techs are off today. Hmmm.

September 9, 2013 near Lexington Manor, KY

Day 9 of our motorcycle trip. The tow truck will be here in 10 minutes. YAY!!!!!

September 9, 2013 via iOS

The bike is finally on the tow truck, and we're about to begin our journey to Louisville.

 September 9, 2013 near Louisville, KY

Day 9 of the motorcycle trip drags on. We have now been sitting on the I-64, 20
miles from our destination for about an hour. There must be a horrific accident ahead.

September 9, 2013 near Louisville, KY

Day 9 of our motorcycle trip continues. This is what we were stuck in:
http://www.whas11.com/news/Police-serious-accident-on-I-64-near-mile-marker-38-222988621.html

We ended up turning around and driving the wrong way on the I-64 shoulder for about a mile. Then the alternate route into Louisville was of course backed up beyond belief, so we took some crazy back roads and eventually made our way back to I-64 past the accident.

Bike is being looked at, but no prognosis or diagnosis yet. The (mis)adventure continues!

September 9, 2013 near Louisville, KY

Day 9, AKA the final day of our motorcycle trip. And by final, I mean FINAL. It's at the dealership in Louisville KY, awaiting our decision as to what to do with the remains. Rest in peace, R1100RT. We had some good rides. Now, how the hell do we get back to Toronto? To be continued.

September 9, 2013 near Louisville, KY

Day 9 (AKA The Final Day) of our motorcycle trip is winding down. Tomorrow we pick up a rental car, drive to the Bowling Green area, pick up a friend's Canadian plated truck, drop off the rental car, drive back to the bike dealership, pick up our bike, and all our stuff, and drive home with the bike on the truck.

It's not exactly how I thought our road trip would end, but what the hell. Good friends are priceless! I'll bet Fatima can guess who this amazing friend is ... Stay tuned.
 

September 10, 2013 near Louisville, KY

Day 10 of the road trip formerly known as our motorcycle trip dawns. We will be calling Derek at Enterprise car rentals soon. The woman who checked us into the Courtyard last night was wonderful and very helpful. I feel like I was wrapped in a big hug.

Despite the bike dying in Lexington, my hurting myself on Lexington's uneven sidewalks and getting stuck in a two-fatality traffic jam on I-64 that brought us to a standstill until our tow truck driver turned and drove the wrong way before he could find a safe pass-through to the eastbound lanes, I still love Kentucky. Downtown Lexington? Not so much. Everywhere else? Yes. Yes.

September 10, 2013 near Bowling Green, KY

Day 10 of the road trip formerly known as our motorcycle trip continues. We have rented a car, driven to Bowling Green and picked up the truck. Next stop, back to Louisville to get the bike. Then the 900 kilometer trip back to Toronto begins. The truck? Doesn't have air conditioning.

September 10, 2013 near Louisville, KY

Day 10 of the road trip formerly known as our motorcycle trip continues. The bike is being strapped on to the truck. It is very noisy and hot in the cab since there is no air conditioning. It's going to be a long 900 kilometers home.

September 10, 2013 near Miamisburg, OH

Day 10 of the road trip formerly known as our motorcycle trip winds down. At least the travel part has. We wanted to make it to Columbus, OH, but every Marriott within a 50 mile radius is sold out. What's up with that? We have to backtrack and end up near Dayton, Ohio.

I am hot, sweaty, tired and starving. I'm sure I smell. Too darn bad for the server in the Courtyard's Bistro. At this point, I have very little pride left. Just get me some grub!

September 10, 2013 near Miamisburg, OH

Day 10 of the road trip formerly known as our motorcycle trip: can we still call it our motorcycle trip since the bike is with us, even if only on the back of a pickup truck?

Regardless, after a full day of travelling without A/C, I am used to the heat and humidity. In fact, I am so cold in our hotel room that the unit is off and the sliding door open.

September 11, 2013 near Miamisburg, OH

Day 11 of the road trip formerly known as our motorcycle trip continues. I am about to shower and look in my bag for fresh underwear. I only have one clean pair of panties left. They're black. Which would have been fine underneath my motorcycle pants, but will not work under my jean capris. Which are white. I am not doing that!

Having very little pride left, but enough not to wear black panties under white pants, I make an executive decision. I will wear my black running capris, which I never ran in once on this trip. Plus a light, semi dressy shirt, which is a tan, taupey colour. Fuck it.

September 11, 2013 near Miamisburg, OH

Day 11 of the road trip formerly known as our motorcycle trip begins. I am exhausted. I was, once again, wildly awake at 4:00am.

I pause to remember the victims of 9/11 on this anniversary. I also wonder if border security will be tighter due to the date. I just want to get home. More later.

September 11, 2013 near Fort Erie, ON

Day 11 of the road trip formerly known as our motorcycle trip continues.  We are in Canada!!!! WOO HOO!!!!!!

September 11, 2013 near London, ON

Day 11 of the road trip formerly known as our motorcycle trip continues. It's still sunny just west of London, but the radar shows a very nasty line of severe weather ahead. Of course it follows our route on the 401. That will just finish off this trip nicely.

September 11, 2013 near Toronto, ON

Day 11 of the road trip formerly known as our motorcycle trip winds down. In keeping with the highs and lows of this journey, we drove through London during a tornado warning (not a watch, a *warning*).

We were very lucky in that we were just behind the line of severe weather, so we didn't hit very much rain at all. I am pleased to announce that I am typing this update from inside my home. Woo hoo!

EPILOGUE

September 16, 2013 near Toronto, ON

Day 16, the final day of our vacation and the road trip formerly known as "our motorcycle trip" nears an end. Since September 1st I have driven, driven in, or ridden on no fewer than 8 different modes of transportation. After returning home to Toronto this week, we drive to Collingwood, where we host Dave's family at our vacation property for the weekend.

Our duties are now over. Upon arriving home for good, we are eager to eat a hasty meal, kick back and enjoy a glass of wine. Dave fires up the barbeque in the rain. Lola McPoopie joins him outside. Within a minute, I hear Dave yelling, "GET OUT OF THERE! GET BACK! GET BACK!!!". I look out the window to see him dragging Lola by the collar back to the house. Why? Because there is a dead raccoon in our back yard, face down in the river rock next to the bay window.

I can't think of a more perfect ending to this vacation.

The Citiots skip the GNE this year …

         

          Yes, back in 2009 I did blog about the GNE becoming an annual tradition. And we did go back in 2010 and 2011, but by 2011, due to certain circumstances, it just felt awkward. So we skipped it for 2012. And we’re skipping it for 2013, too. This year, the weather is helping our decision along. We had torrential rain overnight and into this afternoon as the remnants of Tropical Storm Manuel fed moisture into huge swaths of Ontario, Collingwood included. 

          The GNE fairgrounds are muddy at the best of times, so I can only imagine the conditions today. Sure, I have cowboy boots, blue jeans and even a check flannel shirt to keep me warm now that Manuel has passed by and the cold front has reached our area, but truth be told, I bought my boots at a trendy shoe store in Gastown, a touristy shopping area in Vancouver, BC. They're Boulets, so I guess they have some street cred in terms of being a legitimate work boot, but when I bought them, (well over a decade ago) I wanted fashion and not function. I would never dream of getting them covered up in muck and cow poop! And my shirt is Eddie Bauer, not Carhartt. They were all the rage two winters ago.

          To be honest, the GNE has lost its appeal for me. Much like the Collingwood Elvis Festival, it’s hard to attend every year and not get bored eventually. You can only look at cows, sheep, chickens, rabbits and vintage tractors so many times before exhibition fatigue sets in. I’m not into competitive baking, quilting or canning either, and since I didn’t get to taste any of the contenders, I can’t comment on the subtle differences of one jar of strawberry jam versus another. The butter tarts, maybe – some contain raisins, some not. But that’s about as far as my “expertise” extends, and it’s certainly not enough to make me want to look at the contest entries year after year. 

          There is, however, still a lot about the GNE that I would want to go back for: I love the entertainment, especially the fiddle contest. I also enjoy watching the junior and senior ambassadors give their speeches. I applaud them their courage in standing up and speaking to a crowd of strangers, albeit friendly and supportive ones, and I feel their nerves along with them. And the French fries are delicious in the food area!

          Yes, I still envy the regular attendees their connectivity to the community and its various functions. I still want to become a local. But I understand now that I’ll never be a 4-H local. And that’s okay.

One of the Citiots earns his nickname …

I’ve been in Collingwood since yesterday, and went out with my Collingwood gal pals for our monthly WoW get-together last evening. (More on the Women of Wordstock later – I promise!) As always, we had a fabulous time together.

Dave and our dog Lola McPoopie – yes, she has her own last name – are scheduled to arrive this evening. Dave and I switched cars for this trip, allowing me to enjoy Collingwood without the responsibility of taking care of the dog. No late night, middle of the night, or early morning walks for me. Yay! Since Lola is only allowed to travel in the oldest car, the switch made sense. Until last evening.

Having left my iPhone downstairs to charge, I do not hear the phone ring this morning. When I do retrieve it, I listen to a voice mail from Dave, asking me if Pam, my trusty GPS (Pam – “map” spelled backwards – clever, or cutesy? I digress …) was in my glove box. I don’t see why it wouldn’t be; it’s where she always lives. He asks me because he did not lock my car when he came home at 7:30 last evening. Oh, he locked it at 1:30AM when he went to bed, but for six hours my car sat, unsecured, in our driveway.

When Dave got into my car this morning, he noticed that there were several napkins strewn on the floor of the passenger seat. These would be the extra napkins from Subway. They always give people too many! He also noticed that his work keys were missing from the center console. Oh oh.

Now, I don’t really care about losing Pam. It is annoying and inconvenient, but Dave did invite a thief to steal it. What I do care about is the key ring. We may know that the keys are not to our house, but the thief won’t. And since we’re both away this weekend, I’m nervous. In my mind, Dave has now hung a giant neon sign on our front door that says “Open”. Come on in, thieves! We are too stupid to lock our car. Why not give the house a try? I’m sure you can find a way in! I go into survivalist mode.

I send an email to my neighbours Wendy, Janet and Sandi, who are now on high alert. I call our Toronto real estate agent Brent; our back yard was staged and photographed on Wednesday (more on that later, too!). The pool area was left unlocked today, in case the stagers were coming by to pick up their furniture. They are not. (Their pillows, towels and cushions are all under my patio umbrella, but that may not stop them from getting wet, what with this weekend’s predicted rainfall. Oh, well.)

Sandi gets conscripted by Wendy to go lock our pool gate, since Wendy was out of the house when I sent the email request. She does so in a flash. Wendy will park her car in our driveway this weekend, and her husband John will be extra vigilant of our back yard.

I email Dave about half a dozen times, with instructions on what to do to secure our home. This includes locking our screen doors, adding a padlock to the first gate into our back yard (from the inside, so you’d need to be in the yard in order to access it), and putting all of our poolside furniture into the pool area because the stagers removed almost all of it. It’s crowded by the pool now, but who cares? I also ask him to hide the key to the double deadbolt we have on the back door. Dave installed the kind of lock that requires the use of a key on either side of the door, but we usually leave the key right beside the door. Counterproductive? Perhaps, but convenient when life is good and you haven’t been ripped off.

There is a bright side to this story: I have amazing neighbours. And the thief was too stupid to notice that there was a 160GB iPod docked inside the glove box. If he had taken that, I would have been really pissed!

There is no need to be angry with Dave. I’m sure he’s far madder at himself than I could ever be. So let’s leave it at that. But I can say that he has now officially earned the nickname “citiot”. Though in fairness, this could happen anywhere idiots leave their cars unlocked. Another lesson learned.