Erin's Journals

Just a thought… Don’t worry that children never listen to you; worry that they are always watching you. [Robert Fulghum]

You can watch a video version of this journal on my Facebook page, or here on YouTube.

Welcome in and thanks for coming by. I hope you had a gentle weekend. Perhaps you, too, are now Christmas tree-free after un-decking the halls…although it will be months before the last bits of glitter have been sucked up.

Ah, sucked. There’s a word that brings me to the topic of today’s journal: the danger of words and being overheard.

There was a time when, about 25 years ago, the term “sucks” entered the lexicon in a huge way. Of course, it had always been around, but “you suck,” “that sucks” and so on hit me all the wrong ways as a broadcaster. Sucking, to me, had a sexual connotation. And at that time (remember, this was decades ago) it was something I wasn’t going to say on the air. I held myself to a higher standard. Ha!

Here we are in 2022. The PM says it. Everybody says it. Because, well, how else do you describe being locked down for two years? It DOES suck. (But I’m still uneasy with the word. You can take the girl out of Catholic school….)

Our language is not an easy one to navigate and when you add a layer of bureaucracy or another mother tongue altogether, it gets even murkier. Rob and I laughed ’til we were in tears when our 96-year-old friend Mira told us about being in a government office and trying to get some official documents – passport or something – updated. She was born in a country that no longer exists: Yugoslavia, which completed its breakup in 1992. She was trying in her best English to explain to the woman what she should type in under Country of Birth. And the woman kept telling Mira that there was no Yugoslavia. So, having come to the end of her rope, Mira said to her, “Why don’t you write F-U?”

Now, Mira, in whose mouth butter wouldn’t melt, did not mean that the way we know F-U to mean. She was saying “former Yugoslavia.” But this sweet little old lady coming out with that must have had the whole office in stitches. It is, I will tell you, a story that Mira loves to share. Because she has since been told exactly what her words meant.

You don’t have to tell me, as a former broadcaster, that since you can’t be sure what is being heard, you do have to be extra careful. Like a day last week when Colin was afforded a bonus sleepover because of school closure.

I was in the living room with Rob, seven-year-old Colin in an adjacent bedroom that we’ve turned into the kids’ play room, complete with TV, Wii, a ball pit, the whole nine. Rob and I were talking about how ridiculous it is that people who have been exposed to others who’ve tested positive for Covid were gathering for the holidays and then going off merrily to work. I said (in what I thought was under my breath), “It’s so effing stupid!”

Except I didn’t say effing. Well, apparently Colin wasn’t as absorbed in his Lego superheroes TV show as we thought. We hear this shout from the next room: “Grrrrrrama! What word did you just say?”

And I thought, Uh-oh. Here we go. I’m teaching him the bad words, just as we inadvertently did with Lauren (it’s in the book and is a pretty good laugh).

So I sheepishly answered, “Uh….’stupid’?”

And he came out, hands on hips and said, “You said it AGAIN!”

Yep. Next time I won’t be so effing s—-d. I mean, those are words kids are meant to learn in the schoolyard, not at Casa Banana.

Good thing he wasn’t with us Saturday night for the Leafs’ game. Have a good one, and we’ll talk to you here on Thursday.

Just a thought… I can resist anything except temptation. [Oscar Wilde]

As always, you can watch a video version of this journal on my Facebook page, or here on YouTube.

Hello – and welcome into another journal. I’ll start with a quick reminder that if you got a gift card for Christmas and haven’t spent it yet, a tiny pillow speaker is a great idea for listening to Drift with Erin Sleep Stories.

This is the second year of putting out these tales weekly and so far there have been about fifty installations, and a whole bunch of it is FREE. In fact, all of our Catch My Drift chats with interesting people about dreams, sleep training for children and which essential oils could help you relax are dropping every two days, right now. Check it out: Google Drift with Erin Davis and help this dream of mine, to help put you to sleep after decades of waking you up, come true. I won’t stop working hard and hoping this will be a success. Just listen, subscribe for free and rate it on Apple Podcasts if you can. Please.

So, I try to begin each new year with a resolution – besides the usual “lose X pounds” and this year I really have to. But tell me: what are we supposed to do when Mini Eggs are half-price after Christmas when you know they’re the same dang eggs year round and they just happen to be the deal of a lifetime? I mean, would it not be irresponsible not to take advantage of such savings?

So now I look in my “treat” cupboard and it’s got half-priced Licorice All-Sorts, cut cost Christmas-coloured M&Ms (I guess a true connoisseur could taste the difference, but as yet, I cannot…something to aim for – like a snack sommelier?) and whatever else Shoppers was practically giving away on Boxing Day. I mean, how do you walk away from savings like that?

Seriously, I know how you walk away: you just do. Like I did when the chips were on sale. It can be done…I guess. And, of course, I know that unless my intake is in moderation, it’s not good for me. So I try to take it easy.

But honestly, we’ve been immersed in the new Dexter re-up on Crave called Dexter: New Blood and it’s so tense, either those Mini Eggs or my nails are going to go. And one more episode and the season’s done.

Look, we’re all escaping the terrible twos of this pandemic the best we can. The aim is not to end up the worse for wear after it than when it began. Fortunately, last week I marked 2 years and 6 months of sobriety, so that’s one bad habit I don’t have today. I dropped vaping last year. Maybe this is the year I stop with the chocolatey snacks, although I wouldn’t bet on it.

Betting! Right! We gave up visits to Vegas, too. So yay me! See, I’m already practically a candidate for sainthood! Except for the swearing thing, and that’s a story I’ll share with you Monday. It involves Colin and could have been a whole lot worse.

Just a thought… Never let your memories be greater than your dreams. [Doug Ivestor]

You can watch a video version of this journal on my Facebook page, or here on YouTube.

Well, hello there! I haven’t seen you in about six pounds! Okay, it’s actually been nearly two weeks, although thankfully we stay connected on social media. That’s where I shared with you the photo below of a most spectacular sunset last week (and, yes, our view is to the east!).

I hope you’re doing all right. All around us – well, among friends in Ontario anyway – there are positive tests and isolation. Here in our neck of the BC woods, Colin’s school was supposed to start up for the new year today but it’ll be next Monday. I hear Ontario is further delayed and that they’re fudging the numbers so you don’t actually hear how many new cases there are. Okay…if that works, I’m not going to announce my birthdays and stay forever in my fifties. Sounds good!

Over the holidays, my inbox filled with stories of families who couldn’t be together, or not in the way that they had hoped. The frustration and pain are real and, for that reason, I will not go too deeply into how our Christmas was, because as unusual as a family like ours is, it’s almost equally unusual that we managed to spend it together. I won’t gloat. I’ll share one picture and then move on from the family angle.

Our sweet grandbabies, Colin and Jane, had just the best Christmas. What made it most special of all, though, was that we were together and in good health. May that continue into this year with the brand new smell still on it.

Speaking of “what’s that I smell?” guess who got new cookware? Rob and I decided to upgrade our worn-out 10-year-old stuff and go for some heavy grade shiny silver pots and pans. See, I am hoping that this will be the push I need to really begin to take cooking seriously. Sure, I can pull a pretty good meal together in minutes, something I learned from my mom even in her pre-microwave cooking years, but I want to be able to have company one day and serve them something that doesn’t have me cringing or hyperventilating before they arrive.

So that’s my aim. We did make the stuffing waffles; they were excellent, although the store-bought stuffing we used was not as good as our usual stuff…ing. I’d totally do it again for leftover meals. And just maybe I’ll keep an eye out for a waffle maker on sale somewhere.

So on we go into new challenges and a new year. As in the kitchen, we’ll keep trying ’til we get it right, cook like nobody’s coming over (’cause one day they will), dance like no one is watching (as I do with Janey) and sing at the top of our lungs.

Everything that is coming at us will pass. All things do. We got through 2021, most of us, (we’ll miss you Betty White and all the Bettys and Burts and friends and loved ones we lost) and now we set our sails for 2022. It is truly all we can do. And please stay safe. We’re all doing our best to stay isolated and healthy. We keep doing the heavy lifting for those who have given up or never took up the fight in the first place.

Even though some don’t, wear your mask (or in my case, two masks) out in public. Don’t give up. Don’t listen to those who have: the ones with the loudest and most obnoxious voices. Because despite the selfishness and literal ignorance that we see around us two years into this, we are all in this together. And if some have to do more heavy lifting than others, we’re up to it. Because, as I’ve always said, whenever a challenge seemed too much to face: We Can Do This.

Talk to you here on Thursday.

Just a thought… Santa Claus is anyone who loves another and seeks to make them happy; who gives himself by thought or word or deed in every gift that he bestows. [Author Unknown]

Ah, welcome in. For years, I had the honour of sharing Christmas Eve with you, through our show on CHFI on the 24^th from 6pm until midnight. One year, in fact, the ratings actually showed that 1 of every 2 radios turned on in the GTA was tuned in to our show. It was a joy and truly an honour to share such a wonderful time and a not-so-silent night with you.

So last year I wrote a story that is part of a game. Maybe you’ll want to watch the video version of this with your friends or family and follow along. You can watch it on my Facebook page, or here on YouTube.

Just make sure there are more than two people and that everyone starts with a small present in hand, one that could go to anyone. When you hear the word ‘right’ (whether it’s spelled R-I-G-H-T or sounds like it) you pass to the right, and same with the word ‘left.’ Only one spelling of that one. Here we go.

THE STORY OF THE WRIGHT BROTHERS’ CHRISTMAS

BY ERIN DAVIS

(and if you’re playing correctly, you just passed that gift to the person on your right, because I said the brothers’ name. Got it? Good. Let’s go.)

ONCE UPON A TIME, THERE WERE TWO BROTHERS. ORVILLE WRIGHT AND WILBUR WRIGHT. THEY LIVED IN KITTY HAWK, NORTH CAROLINA, RIGHT NEAR RALEIGH. ORVILLE AND WILBUR NEVER LEFT HOME – THEY STAYED IN KITTY HAWK AND WANTED TO FLY.

HOW COULD THAT BE RIGHT? PREVIOUS TRIES LEFT THOSE FLYING MACHINES IN PIECES ON THE GROUND.

BUT THE BOYS HAD THE RIGHT STUFF. SO, PEOPLE LEFT IT TO THEM. AFTER ALL, WHAT RIGHT DID ANYONE HAVE TO SAY THAT THEY COULDN’T FLY – RIGHT?

THE WRIGHT BROTHERS BUILT AN AIRPLANE WITH PARTS LEFT OVER FROM THEIR TRACTOR – AND EVEN USED A SURFBOARD FOR THE RIGHT WING. WHAT?

ON A CHILLY DECEMBER 24TH, RIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, ORVILLE AND WILBUR GOT INTO THEIR PLANE. A PRIEST WHO WAS WORRIED CAME AND GAVE THEM LAST RITES. BUT THEY SAID, “OH GOODNESS, FATHER, WE’LL BE ALL RIGHT! BESIDES, WE HAVEN’T EVEN LEFT YET!”

THEY STARTED THEIR PLANE AND, DESPITE THE COLD, IT BEGAN RIGHT AWAY. THEY FLEW A LITTLE TO THE LEFT, AND THEN A LITTLE TO THE LEFT AGAIN…AND THEN UP AND DOWN AND THEN…TO THE LEFT. “UH-OH,” SAID WILBUR, “THIS AIN’T RIGHT.” SO THEN THEY TRIED TO STRAIGHTEN UP AND FLY RIGHT, BUT INSTEAD, THE PLANE JUST KEPT GOING UP – UP – UP!

AS THE WRIGHT BROTHERS STARTED TO PANIC, THEIR PLANE CONTINUED ITS ASCENT. UP OVER ROOFTOPS, UP THROUGH THE CLOUDS.

‘TIL ALL OF A SUDDEN, OVER THE WHIRR OF THE LITTLE PLANE’S STRUGGLING PROPELLERS, THE WRIGHT BROTHERS COULD HEAR A SOUND. WAIT, THOUGHT WILBUR, THAT CAN’T BE RIGHT!

“DO YOU HEAR BELLS?” ASKED ORVILLE?

THEY DID! THEY LOOKED ABOVE THEM, THEY LOOKED TO THE RIGHT…THEY LOOKED BELOW AND THEN THEY LOOKED TO THE LEFT…AND WHAT SHOULD THEY SEE, RIGHT THERE BESIDE THEM?

NONE OTHER THAN THE BIG MAN HIMSELF: SANTA CLAUS, AND A MAGICAL SLEIGH BEING PULLED BY EIGHT REINDEER!

“HEY!” SHOUTED SANTA. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

IT’S MY TURN TO FLY – YOU HAVEN’T THE GEAR!

YOU LAND THAT PLANE RIGHT NOW, BEFORE YOU CRASH BADLY – “

“OKAY,” SAID THE WRIGHT BROTHERS, NODDING QUITE SADLY.

“WE DON’T KNOW THE WAY – I GUESS WE DID GOOF…”

AND SANTA SAID, “FOLLOW! I’LL LAND ON YOUR ROOF!”

SO THAT’S WHAT THEY DID, AND THEY PURSUED THE SLEIGH, LED BY RUDOLPH’S GLOWING RED NOSE. DOWN, DOWN, THEY WENT. TURNING LEFT AND LEFT AGAIN…UNTIL RIGHT BELOW THEM WAS THEIR HOUSE.

SANTA AND HIS REINDEER LANDED AND QUICKLY LEFT THEIR PRESENTS, THEN FLEW OFF INTO THE NIGHT SKY. ORVILLE AND WILBUR WRIGHT PUT THAT LITTLE PLANE DOWN GENTLY ON A SNOW-COVERED FARM FIELD RIGHT NEXT TO THEIR HOUSE.

“ALL RIGHT!” THEY EXCLAIMED AS THEY CLIMBED FROM THE PLANE AND LEFT IT BEHIND TO RUN INSIDE AND SEE WHAT SANTA HAD LEFT.

FOR ORVILLE, A PAIR OF FLYING GOGGLES AND A STICK OF RIGHT GUARD DEODORANT…FOR WILBUR, A BASEBALL GLOVE SO HE COULD PLAY LEFT FIELD COME SPRING.

AND RIGHT UNDER THE TREE, THE BEST GIFT OF ALL?

SANTA LEFT THEM A MAP AND A NOTE: “PLEASE DON’T FALL!”

AND AS THE BOYS HUGGED, FOR THEY REALLY WERE TIGHT,

THEY CRIED “MERRY CHRISTMAS” TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD RIGHT!

A lovely holiday season to you and yours from Rob and me, and from our whole family.

The story is over, so hold onto your lot,

No passing, no sassing – open up what you got!

Just a thought… Breathe. Let go. And remind yourself that this very moment is the only one you have for sure. [Oprah Winfrey]

As always, you can watch a video version of this journal on my Facebook page, or here on YouTube.

As we get set for the Winter solstice – a change of seasons, longer days on the horizon and, of course, Christmas, Kwanzaa, New Year’s and so much more just days away – we find ourselves in a sort of limbo. Last year at this time, we were in our bubbles and today, we’re back in them, as we gather cautiously, keeping in mind not only those who can’t be with us, but also those who won’t be, if we’re not careful enough. Not the cheeriest of sentiments on which to begin the week, but here we are.

HO HO Here we go. We’re going to the world-famous Butchart Gardens (pictured above) for their annual Christmas light display tomorrow. I can’t wait to see Colin and Jane’s faces, but I think Phil and Brooke are going to be wowed as well.

So I have a special game, something I wrote that’s fun to play that I’ll bring to you here in Thursday’s journal so you can see and play it too. But today, a different sort of pre-Christmas wish for you.

Like you may have been, I’ve been scurrying around trying to find just the right pans for little whipped cheesecakes I’m going to endeavour to make, and loving the idea of preparing gravy in advance by baking and spicing wings a few days early, thanks to a recipe from the internet.

Oh, and we’re doing something completely different this year: having a turkey dinner Christmas Eve and then replaying it Christmas night with different side dishes, including – get this – stuffing waffles. You top them with gravy, mashed potatoes, even turkey and cranberries, and voilà. The recipe from the Food Network is here.

So my resolution for 2022 is to make use of new cookware and get comfortable in the kitchen. It may not go perfectly, but it’ll be progress.

And as I posted last week, as a wise person once said, “Progress, Not Perfection,” right? So on that note, a poem I found (author unknown) from the website of Amy Rees Anderson, who wrote, “What Awesome Looks Like.”

This is pretty awesome, too, so here we go, and it’s called “‘Tis the Days Before Christmas.”

‘Tis the days before Christmas, we’re all going nuts;
With so much to do, there’s no ifs, ands or buts.
Buy presents, hang tree lights, pop cards in the mail,
Send gift packs, thread popcorn, find turkeys on sale.

Decorations need stringing up all through the house.
And you haven’t a clue what to buy for your spouse.
School concerts, receptions, open houses with friends,
Long lineups, short tempers, tying up the loose ends.

With all our mad dashing, we’re reeling from shock;
Let’s stop for a minute and really take stock.
It’s crassly commercial, the cynical say;
If that’s true, that’s our fault – it’s us and not they.

Take time for yourself – though hard as that seems?
Enjoy your kids’ laughter, excitement and dreams.
Take a moment out now, don’t get overly riled,
Instead make an angel in snow with your child.

The shortbread can wait, and so can the tree;
What’s important to feel is a child’s sense of glee.
The holidays aren’t about push, rush and shove;
They’re for friendship and sharing and family love.

Hear the bells, feel the warmth, light up with the glow
Of a message first sent to us so long ago:
Peace, love and goodwill, and hope burning bright.
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

Well, we can hope, can’t we? I’ll be back Thursday with a very special journal that’s a whole lot of fun for you and your friends, family – whoever you’re gathering with this year, so safely. So gratefully. As I am for you here: always grateful.