Memoir Monday – A Story About Online Dating


While looking through some of my early writing, trying to find something for Memoir Monday, I found this short piece that I thought you might like. I have many more about this topic I could share, if there is enough interest.

Smart, Smarting, Smarter

A few years ago, with a need to fill a void left by the passing of my life partner, I stepped out of my comfort zone and joined the game of online dating.  It’s an addictive pastime that brings with it the desperate urge to turn on the computer to check e-mail messages the minute you walk through the door, no matter how tired you are or how stressful a day it’s been.

On one such day, a month or so after my initiation, I received a message from “Wayne”, in Sarnia.  I lived in Kingston at the time, a four or five-hour drive away.  The geographical distance between us gave me a moment’s hesitation, but being a curious sort who’d rather not close a door without first investigating what’s behind it, I responded.  He asked me to add him to my messaging contact list, and I obliged. From then on, every time I logged onto my computer, there was Wayne, looking for me!  If I wasn’t online, he sent me e-mail.  For a full week, fingers flew across the keyboards several times a day in an exchange of lengthy chats and e-mails.  Excitement began to build.  We compared all of our likes and dislikes, our visions and desires for a future relationship, our personal values. I wasn’t ready to throw caution to the wind just yet, but if he was being truthful, there seemed to be emerging a strong foundation for further development.  He revealed that he’d been married twice before and shared his story of how both wives had taken advantage of his generous nature.  I sympathized with him, but also recognized a possible red flag.  He was quick to dismiss my concerns about the geographical distance between us.  Distance could be overcome and worth the effort if it meant finding your soul mate; we could meet in Toronto since he was there twice a month on business; he could meet me at the bus station if I didn’t want to drive.  By the end of the week Wayne was certain that he was ready to meet me, and the sooner the better it seemed.  I was convinced to give it a try.  We talked about possible dates.

Then the penny dropped.

Wayne’s profile included a picture; mine did not.  Although I’ve been told that I’m an attractive woman, I’m not very photogenic. I had already discovered that sharing my not-very-flattering images too early could bring the “dating” to an abrupt end.   However, Wayne kept urging me to send him a picture, since I knew what he looked like while he had only my written description. I finally gave in.   Not happy with any photos in my file, I chose one randomly, attached it to an   e-mail, and hit SEND.  Almost immediately I had a stinging response.

“Thanks for the picture.  Unfortunately it didn’t give me that I want to meet her kind of feeling.  Good luck in your search”.

Ouch!

This ouch would have sent me spiraling into depression and self-doubt a few months ago, but now, after shaking off the shock, I chuckled to myself and added him to my growing list of “jerks”. If I’d judged him solely on his photo, I never would have responded to his first message.

I was finally beginning to see how fickle some men could be.  Obviously I was better off without this one and I was thankful that I hadn’t wasted a trip to Toronto.

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Memoir Monday – The Princess


I was dragging along the aisles of the grocery store, holding Daddy’s hand while my mother consulted her shopping list and piled items from the shelves into the metal shopping cart. As any ten-year-old girl would be, I was bored and anxious to get home to dinner. Then the line of items along a shelf high above the groceries caught my attention. There sat toys! There were big trucks and toy drums, building blocks and dolls. Dolls! That’s when I saw her and my eyes popped! There she stood, taller than all of the others, that princess doll.  Her shoulder-length hair was a dark blond and set in a Paige-boy style. The sparkling “silver” tiara on her head completed the royal look presented by the dark blue satin gown, trimmed with white lace. Her blue eyes shone from her perfect rosy face. All I could do was stop and stare. I knew I had to have her.

But, although Mom and Dad looked toward where I was pointing, they didn’t seem to share my excitement and my pleas to buy her went unheeded. It was just a few weeks before Christmas and Mom’s thoughts were on getting the Christmas baking ingredients and the week’s meal supplies. They may have told me too that they couldn’t afford to buy her then. Or possibly they’d suggested I put her on my list to Santa. I’m sure I dreamed about her that night.

The weeks passed and soon it was Christmas morning.  I wasn’t allowed to go downstairs until the rest of my family was up. Since my three siblings were teenagers who’d rather sleep longer, I had to be content with dumping out the contents of my stocking that hung on my bedroom door knob. When I was finally allowed to creep down the steep stairs to the living room, my eyes lit up in disbelief. There in front of the Christmas tree stood my princess! That was all I needed. I ran to examine her. She was even more beautiful up close than she’d been up on that shelf.  I looked at the little pearl earrings on her earlobes, and the triple strand pearl choker necklace around her neck. Her nicely shaped feet fit perfectly into the silver plastic high-heeled slippers. That was the best Christmas ever!

I didn’t play much with that doll. I was almost getting to an age that I was more interested in playing games and reading books and playing outdoors than playing with dolls.  But I loved to look at her where she sat on my bed. She held that spot as I grew up, married and had daughters of my own. My father-in-law, an antique dealer, once offered me $100 for her, but I turned him down. A number of years later, when her dress had faded to a dull purple and the elastic of her necklace had rotted and broken, like my marriage, and I needed the cash, I made her a new dress and regretfully sold her on eBay for far less.

Unfortunately, I can’t find any pictures of her.

Announcing a Book Launch


Today my post is  about another side of my writing. If you check out the other tabs on this site, you’ll see that I’ve done more than just travel blogging, but not so much lately. Now I’m excited to share this news with you.

This past summer I won a competition, at WomensMemoirs.com.

My story is one of the 81 winning stories that have been published in a two-volume anthology series entitled TALES OF OUR LIVES (Fork in the Road and Reflection Pond.) Mine, Seeking a Diagnosis,  is in TALES OF OUR LIVES: REFLECTION POND*.  Each volume is available on Amazon in Kindle e-book format, but you don’t need to have an e-reader or tablet to get them.  When you click on the link to purchase the books, you will find an option to download the free Kindle App for either your PC or MAC.

Book cover2

Beginning today, January 8 at 8 am (PST), and over the next few days, there will be special discount pricing for some countries, including the US, so if you  are interested in grabbing a copy, today and tomorrow might  get you a deal! Unfortunately Amazon doesn’t  allow these discounts in Canada, but even if you can’t get the special pricing, the full list price is quite reasonable–$5.22 in CA.)

Below are links to the books for Canada and the US. If  you would like the links for other countries, let me know and I’ll get them for you.

Seasons of Our Lives: Fork in the Road (Canada) amzn.to/1SyPM5q

*Seasons of Our Lives: Reflection Pond (Canada) amzn.to/1mEVE0s

Seasons of Our Lives: Fork in the Road (US) amzn.to/20VYNJq

*Seasons of Our Lives: Reflection Pond (US)amzn.to/1MQGKdk

For the writer within you, the editor has included the introduction to her new writing methodology (Writing Alchemy). If you’re thinking of writing about your life or the lives of others in your family, then you’ll want to read that chapter. She also begins each section with a series of prompts that will help you to think about your own life stories — stories you may want to share with your family.  These two writing tools help make these volumes even more than a good read. You get 81 powerful stories and 98 prompts.

And after you’ve read the stories (all 81 intriguing ones if you can), I hope you’ll feel inspired to post a comment, and write a review on Amazon.  I, and my co-authors would all appreciate it.

I just got word that Tales of Our Lives is already an award winning anthology, New England Book Festival, Honourable Mention!

Click on the tab Writing/Books to see other books, and Awards and Reviews.

Just Can’t Wait to Get on the Road Again


Ah, sunshine at last, and a light at the end of the tunnel, have given me renewed optimism that we will be, within a couple of weeks, back on the road in the RV, the Suzuki Boulevard on the trailer behind.

It’s been a very long winter and spring, full of family crisis that have left us exhausted. Up until yesterday, the latest one threatened to put life as we know it on long-term hold. Thank goodness for our mini-vacation in Las Vegas in February that gave us time for a bit of regeneration before the next storm.

Today, a couple of hours puttering in the backyard and soaking up the sun recharged my battery. I’m hopeful that I’ll have some interesting travel stories to share very soon.

RV and Bike

They’re waiting for us.

In the meantime, I did manage to complete another memoir, this one for my uncle, and I started a new blog on that theme, Unfolding Our Past. Hope you’ll take a look.