"Always Good News" the first 6 weeks

Reflections on the New Job/Life of a Lucky Dog!

I’m sitting on the couch at our cottage near Buckhorn, Ontario on a Saturday night. A quiet dinner just the two of us, make that three of us including Tilly, who thoroughly enjoyed the barbequed steak with cauliflower…and cheese sauce.

Dave has been raking/blowing all day, while Tilly, yes, Tilly again, slept among the leaves. I spent a decadent few hours with my friend Terry, whom I have known since we were 16-year-olds at the Red and White Grocery Store, and, I might add, the fastest cashiers with the best shoes.

After a trip to the spa in town, we had lunch together with a glass of Australian Shiraz. One of those things we don’t do enough of with old, check that, long-time friends. Terry and I, of course, haven’t changed a bit. We still buy similar clothes…and we still love shoes and the Rolling Stones.

We talk about our boys (we each have one son), our husbands we were both so lucky to finally find, our parents… and our second careers. We’ve been through a lot of ups and downs in life and while at times we’ve gone as long as a year or two without seeing each other, we always manage to pick up where we left off.

As a labour and delivery nurse at North York General Hospital, Terry probably delivered more babies than most doctors. She lovingly and skillfully looked after new parents and their babies and some new parents who had lost their babies. Caught up in the heart of the Sars crisis, she ended up taking an early retirement a couple of years ago after which she and her husband sold their rambling home east of Toronto and moved up to cottage country. “I never want to work again”, she said….”no more hospitals, babies or patients for me.”

That could have been me one year ago…the day I got my letter telling me my services as a news anchor were no longer required. One year ago! The day I thought my world had come crashing to an end. Something in me knew it had been a long time coming. I hadn’t been feeling the love, as they say. Would I ever work in the industry again? Was I just not good enough any more? Had I lost it? But a job that had defined me for more 30 years was over. I wasn’t wanted anymore. Terry decided her career was over. Someone else decided for me.

Just as I knew Terry would work again, I knew I would too. I started writing, this blog, and a couple of newspaper articles and talking to people. I learned I still had value and it didn’t matter that I didn’t have a “work” phone number anymore. Terry embarked on a massive project re-building their cottage into a home. It is beautiful but it is also finished now.

A year or so ago, while construction was underway, a group of townsfolk got together and decided to open a medical clinic. Word got around that a former head nurse was now a local resident. Would she consider sitting on the board? Well yes, she said as long as that was it. That clinic is now a reality. Terry is a board member, and volunteered to order supplies. Now it seems they want to hire a nurse to set up a satellite lab…. Just a few hours a week. It’s perfect for her.

After three decades of being front and center as life began for hundreds of newborns and life changed forever for hundreds of parents, Terry knows she has so much more to give but she also needs to be needed, to be involved, to put her incredible experience, skill and compassion to work again.

I tell her I knew this day would come, just as I knew it would come for me.

Six weeks ago, my new TV show, “Always Good News” premiered on CTS Television. There were nerve-wracking days full of angst and panic and sleepless nights when I’d wonder what I had gotten myself (and my director-husband) into. But the fear in my belly; the sense that the best in life has past; the dread of failure; all of that, is gone.

I have a new comfort in this new job of mine. I have a sense of self worth. I believe in what I’m doing, that the world needs more good news. My opinions are sought. I’m proud of what I do and how I do it and I have a team of people behind me including bosses who treat me as an equal and more. I’m at the center of my world.

I’m past 50 but not past the belief that the best is yet to come. We are what life has dealt us, the product of our experience. As I tell my now 20-year-old when he feels like a dumb kid over some silly mistake, life “is” and there is no such thing as a bad experience as long as you learn from it. There will be more challenges ahead. I know that. But I also know I’m stronger than ever. So are you Terry.

I like the way my life “is” today. I am grateful for my blessings and the journey that brought me here. Terry, here’s to you and me and tomorrow!

The New Job

I never thought I'd be looking for a new job at this time in my life. I'm sure most people in my position (and more and more of them these day) would think the same thing.

But here I am, a 50-something "new kid" with all the excitement, angst and yes scrutiny that comes with that.

I'm still allowed to be ignorant of the company ways, including the ways around the building! However, my brain is being put to the test as is recommended to keep middle-aged grey matter from turning into mush.

It's been an intense month since I started with CTS Television and began the job of building a TV program from scratch. I couldn't have done it without:

1. My husband Dave who also designed the set (it's beautiful...stay tuned for photos) and is the show's director. It's wonderful to work with him again.

2. The incredible managers and executives at CTS Television who walk the talk of "Television you can believe in." Rob Sheppard and Terry Maskell, have been there for me every step of the way, addressing every worry and concern.

3. The producer/correspondents, and crew who believe in "Always Good News" as much as Dave and I do and have probably never worked so hard to prove it.

Now the final test goes to you. The viewers. Many of you have followed my career since I was a young, green reporter who hadn't quite found her voice yet.

You stuck with me through my many beats and anchor jobs that date back to CKVR-TV in Barrie and on through more than 3 decades of often tumultuous times at CHCH-TV.

You supported me when my days ended at CHCH after 32 years: hugs and words of encouragement in shopping malls, grocery stores..everywhere.

You congratulated me on the news of the next phase of my working life.

Some of my friends and colleagues suggest "Always good News" is my calling.

There have been sleepless nights of late as I wonder if that is really true and if can I measure up to expectations.

How strange that 35 years ago, I began my broadcasting career as a "Good News" reporter as CFRB Radio in Toronto.

Tomorrow (Monday Sept. 14th, 2009) on CTS TV at 5:30 pm, I return to that theme ( I guess we need good news more than ever, especially me!) with a new program and a new chapter in a number of careers.

"Always Good News" is all about ordinary people who are doing extraordinary things, leaders in our community who are giving back to society and a means for viewers to share their good news.

My former CHCH colleague, Randy Steele, who lost his battle with throat cancer this past spring, would have turned 48 years old today. Randy always believed that if you change the way you look at things, things change.

I will be dedicating Always Good News, show #1 to Randy because I believe that. There is good news all around us; it's all the way you look at things.

I hope you'll take a look with me and be part of a good thing! Weekdays at 5:30.

Now...a good night's sleep....

The past six weeks have s

Of Loons and Lake Baths...

Sometimes the idea of packing up the car (I always forget something), canceling the newspaper and indulging in the neighbour’s goodwill (once again) to retrieve mail and water the plants, can all be a little daunting.

There are the inevitable yet never anticipated delays of long line-ups at “Tim’s”, road closures and the stereotypical “Sunday driver”, in no hurray to conquer the back roads, despite a caravan of overly-anxious cottagers bunching up behind him or her.

There is even the occasional speeding ticket when a cunning and conniving OPP officer, looking out for our safety, positions himself just after the on-ramp hoping to trap the usually innocent but over enthusiastic motorist hungry for escape from the madding crowds.

The nerves fray, the stresses of the past days` weeks, or months roll up into the perfect storm as the destination appears virtually unreachable or at least not reachable soon enough! We count off the landmarks in ten- minute increments.

And then…the last turn-off. The shoulders ease, the jaw slackens, the pulse rate slows in sheer anticipation. The sun roof opens to allow “Tilly” to sniff the familiar air. The car comes to a stop, doors open and with that first lungful of same air, the humans begin the process of decompression.

A glass of wine on the dock as we sink into the weathered and lovingly re-stained Muskoka chairs that stand vigil on Black Duck Bay through rain and snow storms, biting cold and searing heat 24-7, 12 months a year, 10 years and counting. This sun begins to set. We’ll be back…with more wine…when the stars come out; stars that only appear against such a blackened night sky, to the comforting sound of lapping water, rustling trees and the hauntingly nostalgic cry of the loon. Our’s is named “Lucy”. We also have “Hilda the Heron” and “Ollie the Osprey”.

And so cottage life resumes. There will be no blow dryers, make-up, high heels, or suit jackets for the next week. Showers are replaced by lake baths, with bio-degradable soap of course. There’s nothing like shaving your legs balancing precariously on a rocky outcropping or rinsing your hair with a bucket of lake water.

It takes 24 to48 hours for this process of decompression to play our. It’s all-day breakfast/lunch/dinner and midnight snacks, and roasted marshmallows, not to mention “Uncle Dave’s Special Surprise Everything Ice Creams Cones” , the requisite “Lucky Charms” and “white donuts” that can be consumed at any hour of the day or night for that matter.

Lazy days floating on vinyl rafts, alternate with heart-stopping “tubing” escapades in the speed boat, trips in town for worms, adventures to the nearest zoo/ reptile park when the clouds roll in or more expensive outings to “Giant Tiger” when the skies open up.

But there is only one place to be at the first crack of thunder: curled up …with more wine…sometimes a cozy blanket with only candlelight allowed…on the screened porch. No movie, TV show or video game can ever come close to Mother’s Nature’s big show in cottage country.

This particular year is made even more special with another “showing”; a son who just turns 20 re-discovers the magic of his childhood, and after leading an armada of younger cousins and neighbours to his old tree fort on “Turtle Island”, exclaims with a quiet sign, “I love this place!”

Sometime we think we may sell. There is upkeep and time-worn rakes to prove it: weeds in summer, leaves in fall; snow to shovel in winter; filters to change in the well. A new BBQ burner; new windows this year; perhaps a new roof next year.

We caved in to a telephone and TV. Now we sure could use a bigger bathroom , maybe even a second bathrooms (those early morning and late night line-ups can seem endless!). What about a washer and dryer…just like home? But maybe that’s exactly what we don’t want. It’s a cottage, after all, my husband reminds me. He’s right (for now) and I love this place too!

Gone fishin...back in a couple of weeks!

New Father in the Family....?

We have another addition to our traditional Fathers Day photo. Far right, niece and God daughter Candice's Aussie husband Scott.

Candice and Scott are the main characters in a fairty tale-come-true that saw the pair meet during a Continki Tour vacation just over two years ago...atop the Eiffel Tower in Paris. It was Down Unda meets Up Ova and the rest ...as they say...is history.

First came love, then came marriage..then came baby in the ... doggie handbag!?

Scott and Candice are now a threesome with the arrival of Scarlet the Morky. Morky is part Maltese and part Yorshire or Yorkie.

I don't know which was the bigger occasion..Fathers Day or Scarlet's coming out! Everyone was following her journey of discovery in my sister and brother-in-law's rambling backyard, a.k.a. "jungle" for something that weighs just over one pound.

A highlight of the day, other than opening those Fathers Day presents was "the meeting". There were discussions, deliberations and both sides of the argument expressed their concerns, all well-founded, but in the end it was the inevitable that resolved the debate. Zoe, the 5-year-old original dog of the house simply must have a close-up and personal encounter with Scarlet.

Now Zoe is a pure Maltese, still small by most standards and very freindly and loveable. BUT to Scarlet, she is a looming giant of a creature. One friendly slap of the paw could....well none of us could even contemplate the possible and quite likely horrific outcome.

But as canine members of the same family, keeping them apart was simply unreasonable and unfair...maybe, just maybe they'd really like each other and Zoe would learn to be gentle.

And so it came to pass. The first nose-to-nose, the first sniff, the first playful crouch and spring and then...they were OFF.. Zoe nose to tail, chasing the little Morky through the hosta and day lily jungle...legions of cameras in tow.

Emerging from one thicket, a reverse play! It's that little Morky Scarlet now chasing the giant Zoe, sprinting and lunging every few seconds to nip at her tail. The final play of the game sees Scarlet hiding under the BBQ cover and staging surprise attacks on the now outsmarted and outwitted Zoe. Time out.....two dogs napping...mission accomplished with peace of earth....back to Fathers Day!

Happy Fathers Day Daddy, Dave, Randy, Stew and...Scott. A little taste of what's to come should a two-legged baby launch a brand new generation...but no pressure Candice and Scott...whever you're ready, we'll be ready!

"Runway" Success in Oakville!

I felt like a kid trying on my Mom's glittery jewelry and gowns she'd wear to the Princess Ball every year at HMSC Star. I remember how she looked like a real princess and I couldn't wait to look like that one day!

While belly dancers balanced sparkling chandeliers on their heads, I wore them on my ears last night! I've never worn such gorgeous earrings!

Oakville Carmen's "Arabian Nights" Fashion Show for the Charity of Hope raised an equally sparkling $40,000.00 for children in need throughout Halton and Hamilton and boy do they ever do it with CLASS!

Top-notch dining perfectly matched the middle eastern theme along with the most exotic fashions from area boutiques: Tofano's of Ancaster (I wore 2 of Sylvia's stunning gowns and those incredible earrings and bracelets by "Karen". Word has it Michelle Obama has indicated an interest in her work!). Other fashion retailers featured included, Mainstream, the Oyster, Poise, Harry Rosen and Jonathon Quinn for Men. Yes even the men sparkled!

Morris Mercanti started the Charity of Hope in 2003 with a group of hand-ball friends and since, with his committee and Co-Chairs this year wife Lynn Mercanti and niece Jennifer Mercanti (shown in photo), has raised a total of $300,000.00.

The $40,000.00 raised this year will go to HALTON FAMILY SERVICES, THE HALTON LEARNING FOUNDATION, JOSEPH BRANT HOSPITAL, KERR STREET MINISTRIES AND OAKVILLE TRAFALGAR HOSPITAL.

For everyone there last night, it was a sparkling affair.

For our children and our community: a brighter future.

For me: a chance to work with Sandie Krueger's incredible Vogue models and strut down a runway with chandelier earrings, without a care in the world...just like being a kid again.

Birthday Sharing

We share birthday parties in our family.

Part of it is pragmatic; part of it for the fun of it, inspite of the challenges this presents!

A lot of us were born on each other's birthdays. I was born on Christmas Day, the same as you-know-who. My sister was born on our father's birthday; my one nephew on his mother's birthday; my son on my grandmother's birthday.

Then we have this huge cluster of these mass birthdays, Mother's Day and Father's Day within a month or so of each other.

The photo shows from left to right, niece/God-daughter Candice, June 4th, my Dad, Bob, May 29th, my brother-in-law Randy, April, sister Barbi May 29th, and her daughter Sierra, just because she always helps everybody blow out their candles...and open their presents. She has taken over that job from her older brothers (not shown) and my son, Calvin whose birthday is next month.

Our birthday parties are huge fetes (like Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving etc), with more food than anyone can ever eat, at least five conversations going on at once with the younger set normally retreating to the video gaming area of the house while Papa (my Dad) finds a good war movie on one of numerous televisions in the house whose turn it is to host. (We rotate between the three sisters and are waiting for the eldest niece, Candice, now married, with a big enough house, to join the rotation...any time Candice...)

Two of the so far three venues have hot tubs so there are always damp and towelled bodies moving in and out of the house...and the inevitable, "Can someone grab me a towel" and "Don't sit on that chair, you're wet!"

Our biggest challenge these days is getting everyone fed at the same time while the hot food is still hot and cold food still cold. We've experimented with the buffet model, the runner/server model and the platters on the table model. The jury is still out on the winning approach.

We're working on refining the present-opening ritual but it's a work in progress...just like the Christmas present ritual. Every year we decide, we will open one at a time but it always ends up a free for all with Sierra, yes the same five-year old in charge of candle-blowing and present-opening, also ripping open cards that often get separated from the gifts, making for a game of match the card to the present! (please note: every child in this family has played this role! It is mandatory!)

When all is said and done and those last cups of tea emptied from the teapots, our family inevitably attempts to exit all at once. Keep in mind our numbers usually top 18 now, counting new husbands and children, sometimes aunts and mothers-in-law! Now, there is an inherent problem in squeezing a dozen and half people through a normal-sized front hall and doorway all at once! Add in the good-byes and kisses, often repeated because in the melee, one often forgets who has been kissed and said good-bye to, plus, looking for and putting on shoes/boots and other outer wear and pandimonium results!

My Dad's approach is to somehow be first out. He starts looking at his watch during dessert and puts his hat and coat on within moments of the last present-opening. Trouble is my Mom is usually last out. Thus my Dad is left to wait outside in the nice weather or in the car during wind storms and snowsqualls. Sometimes, we're left wondering if he's still out there or just where is he?

After the last car honks the horn in the expected, traditional fashion, much to the on-going chagrin of all our neighbours, I am sure, the host family is left to marvel at how this scene is replayed time and time again....and marvel at how marvelous it all is! Until next time....I can hardly wait! And I think it's my turn!

Flowers for Aly

There is a little girl with a big bouquet of flowers on her bed side table today. That bed side table may be at home but it may also be at McMaster Children's Hospital. I met her last night in a magical quiet moment in the lobby of McMaster Children's Hospital.

It had been an incredible 12 hours...up earlier than usual on a Sunday morning...a quick breakfast...drop off Dave (my husband and producer of the Celebration telethon) at the mobile production truck, followed by Tilly (our dog) at my sister's for the day.

The adrenalin is pumping by now. After so many years, it's still the same. The hospital lobby is buzzing by 10 a.m. The production crew are checking their equipment, hospital staff and volunteers sprinting the halls with last minute changes and challenges.

For me, there are notes to check as I review our young patient stories in preparation for their live interviews. There is make-up. There are rehearsals for the show "open". As the last minutes tick down to "live", I take some deep breaths and marvel at how the years have gone by...so many beautiful children...so many happy endings. Even the stories of children with tragic outcomes that can only be described as bitter sweet, inspire us and make us more determined to make it better for another child in their memory.

And now, more beautiful children to fall in love with...

Liam is our "poster child" this year. He has incredibly big brown eyes and is thriving after an equally incredible surgeon named Dr. Sheila Singh extracted a tumour from the middle of his brain. He introduces Dan, my co-host and former co-anchor and me. We are off and running and I mean running!

There is Sarah: gorgeous red hair on a tiny frame; she rinses her own feeding tube, now removed, for a time. She will live with brittle bones, a bleeding disorder and Crones Disease her entire life. She adores her Dr. Bob Issenman, swam with the dolphins at Disney World earlier this year and wants to be a teacher.

There is Taylor: his smile is absolutely infectious! His appendix now serves as a ureter to allow himself to drain his malformed bladder. I can't even spell the medical term for it. He can though, and even makes jokes about it. He also has mitochondrial disease. Taylor alone has raised thousands of dollars for MacKids. He wants to be a doctor.

There is Desiree: We can only see her photos from the neonatal intensive care unit. She was brought into the world early because her Mom, a diabetic, was in endanger of losing her eyesight. Desiree had an infection and trouble feeding. A tube still helps her breathe. She may go home in two weeks.

I re-connect with Will. His "Will-power" brought him from a bald and very sick and frail cancer patient who could barely hold his head up last year to a normal kid who takes great delight in seeing himself on camera, checking out both profiles complete now with a shock of sandy brown hair.

I re-connect with Damian, making huge strides in overcoming neuromuscular disease. MacKids is world famous for its research in this area. His face lights up when he sees me. It takes a few tries because he is laughing so much but he finally says my name!!!!

Shane is also back this year. Now that his doctors have found the right medication, the young teen is taking control of the tics of Tourette Syndrome with confidence and humour. He is a gifted musican and photographer who has already sold some of his work

There are cookies from Liam, a homemade card for Sarah's "awesome doc" two cheques from Taylor and mementos from the nurses who are taking care of Desiree. Doctors literally join us on the set straight from the O.R. After saving a life, they tell me they are nervous about going on tv.

In six hours it's done. A climactic grand total reveals almost $6 million dollars raised through private and corporate donations in a year wracked by a recession. There are tears of joy, relief, exhaustion.

At a wrap party downstairs this now intimate community of health care professionals, young patients, families, foundation executives, production crews and on-air personalities embrace, pay tribute and take photos for special scrapbooks.

After an emotional hour or so, it's time to leave. We reluctantly say good-bye...

Upstairs in the now empty lobby, where the TV cameras are shut-down, lights turned off, and endless kilometers of cable rolled back up for the next production, a lone wheelchair approaches: a Mom and her little girl. Her name is Alyssa... Aly. She reaches for the flowers presented to me just about 30 minutes ago.

This is my magical moment.

Aly is every child whose fight for a "normal" life goes on after the TV show is over. I crouch beside her. I don't think she can speak and her movements are spasmodic. Together we pull out a beautiful blue iris but she motions to another, then another.

It turns out Aly was a healthy little girl who loved to sing and dance until March of last year when a mysterious neurological condition robbed her of all of her abilities. She has been a Mac Kid since and her family is hoping for a diagnosis and then hopefully a cure.

Aly may have to stay in hospital tonight. It's not the first time or the last. The bouquet is hers now. Her Mom says thank you. Thank you Aly for your innocent beauty and reminding us why we were here today.

We were here not just for today...but for tomorrow. We will do all we can to enrich your tomorrows Aly so you can sing and dance again. I will always remember our special moment. I will look for you next year...

Coming....My Glimpse of the Future

Final preps for MacKids Celebration broadcast this Sunday afternoon 1pm to 7 pm. Final Steering Committee meeting today...then St. Joe's long service awards dinner tonight.

Coming soon....I had a glimpse of the future at Burlington's Notre Dame Secondary School and wow, do I feel good!

He called me "Conner"...

He had nicknames for everybody and I can't think of a single soul who ever said a bad word about him. I first knew him as my friend Karen's pesky little brother. Oh the typical brother-sister tiffs they'd have on the phone when Karen and I worked together. The calls would end with Karen saying through gritted teeth,"Randy put Mom on right now!" Mom never usually made it to the phone!

He was a shaggy-haired happy-go-lucky teenager who grew into a loving husband, father, friend to so many, and... fellow journalist at CHCH-TV Hamilton. And what a journalist he grew to be. The kind who knows that that real news stories are often away from the spotlights and headlines where everyone else is looking...perhaps at a neighbourhood fruit market or inside an abandoned building in the gritty end of a downtown.

He could ask tough questions but always in a folksy way with dignity and respect. He made people talk to him in spite of themselves or mostly just because really wanted to.
He was a journalist driven by the search for truth but not at the expense of integrity, always uncovering the wonderful and often whimsical side of issues or just ordinary life itself.

Even when robbed of his voice, he re-channelled his incredible story telling skills through the written word and his stunningly insightful photographs capturing the wonder of simple everyday life .

I have one of his pieces in my home and I will think of him everyday I look at it. It's a single pink flower; its colour, shape and beauty preserved forever. In one of my last e-mails to him I sent him a photo I had taken of a trillium in the woods. In his typical cheeky response, he told me I had wiped out all the highlights and could use a few lessons.

Randy Steele died today and that photograph on my wall is just a little piece of the beauty and truth he leaves behind. Randy my friend, thank you for the best "lesson" I could ever learn, about living life with honour, humour, courage, and grace... no matter what. You are a great teacher.

I, along with so many, will never forget you.

Love,
"Conner"

This is my entry for the May 2-4 weekend!

Buckhorn, Ontario: Land of fun, Lucky Charms for breakfast, White Donuts any time of day, dock installations, shoreline clean-ups, bringing "Moving' On" out of its marina hibernation to discover one less season of life left in it, escape from the back flies in Dave's outstanding screened-in porch and......the Army Pants Dance!

Life doesn't get much better!

My First Long Weekend!

I am off on a Holiday Monday! That may not seem unusual to you but after spending so much of my working life "working" while everyone else was "off", it's a luxury I plan to enjoy for some time to come.

Working stats was one of the cons of the TV news business...not to say there weren't plenty of "pros". But I am very much enjoying being like everybody else right now. Now I know that's a bit of an over simplification because many people do work stat holidays but for "heaps" (to borrow that wonderful Australian noun/adverb) of others, enjoying May 2-4, along with Canada Day and Labour Day make up an essential fibre of the Canadian fabric, the true Canadian experience. I'm no longer reporting on what others are doing on these days, I'm one of the "doers"!

I'm also reaping the benefits of being "off", potentially off, when everybody else is working.

It means avoiding the highways during rush hours. That alone makes driving fun again! It means lingering just a little longer over the morninbg paper. It means shopping when the stores aren't busy. What a joy! It means celebrating my Aunt Joan's birthday at a mid-day mid-week tea party...with real tea ! complete with china cups and little sandwiches with the crusts cut off.

Photo above shows left to right niece Sierra, 5, her Mom, my sister Kate (whose real name is Barbi but that's the subject of another blog one day!), Aunt Joan, Mom and family friend Pam. Pam is another wonderful story I have yet to tell...your turn is coming Pam!

The underlying theme of my new found freedom thanks to CanWest downsizing: more TIME! Time to do what I want to do. I am busy today, just like everyone said I would be. My volunteer and community work continues uninterrupted with M.C. work, St. Joe's Board of Trustees work, speeches to community groups and schools, and the upcoming MacKids Celebration broadcast May 31st. More work will come with details T.B.A. but I am in charge of my hours now and I am my own boss (just don't tell my dog that!)

Morning After Mother's Day

I'm putting the good china away today. I use it more often now because there are so many good things to celebrate .

My whole family was together this Mother's Day, my turn to host the family ``dinner``. (above photo shows left to right sisters Barbi and Claudia, Mom, Audrey and me).

My two sisters and I rotate those now which is great when it`s at my two sisters. They are pretty good in the kitchen. When it`s my turn, I am pretty good because I know they are there along with my wonderfully patient husband Dave who all tie up my loose ends. I blame years of never having time and I blame my nature to talk a lot. So while my culinary organizing skills leave a little to be desired, I`m pretty good at the actual entertaining part.

My Mom has always been my biggest fan: laughing at all my silly faces, jokes and antics . She went to all my speeches and plays as a kid and with my Dad, has kept every newspaper article that ever mentioned by name. (see former blog: Lunch with Mom and Dad. Dad, your article is coming soon...)

My best Mothers Day gift (aside from my new little pink camera from Dave) was a picture of the Eiffel Tower from my son Cal. For years, step-dad Dave would go shopping with him, pick out a card, gift etc. But when a teenaged boy does it by himself, that is a gift! And a meaningful one: our last family vacation. It is now hanging in our front hall.

It was a good time to use the good china. Incidentally the meal was superb! Thanks to all!

McHappy Day Update

McHappy Day in Hamilton raises $31,500. for children's charities, with the help of generous customers, lots of local community volunteers and celebrities like Canadian Idol and Hamilton native Brian Melo! He promised me an interview to talk about his new album and children's charity. Stay tuned....

Happy McHappy Day

It's nice to have some constants in life. Witness: McHappy Day.

Community leaders and celebrities of various note volunteer their time behind the counter at McDonald's Restaurants to raise money for Ronald McDonald House and other McDonald's children's charities. I think I've been doing it since it began.

It's one hour of experiencing a different world...a really fast world. Not just fast as in fast food but hi-tech productivity fast. Talk about multi tasking ! Do you ever wonder how drive-through servers can take the next order behind you while handing over yours plus change? I could probably still deliver a newscast relatively flawlessly but put me in a drive through? I even get nervous as a customer, which my son finds very funny. I can tell you, it's not easy; neither is figuring out and remembering what all those icons mean on the cash register, if that's what it's still called!

I fetched burgers and fries, even a strawberry pie plus two Happy Meals and managed (with help) to get them in the right-sized bags! A dollar from every Big Mac and Happy Meal sold goes toward the cause. It was daunting! Thankfully a couple of young Tiger Cats and even Canadian Idol past winner Brian Melon, who, by the way, has a new album coming out, also appeared a little overwhelmed.

But the delight of seeing folks working together, as klutzy as we were, older folks for the most part, being mentored by younger folks, very patient younger folks, I might add, made it all a wonderful experience. John Novak and Ray Michaels of Oldies 1150's live broadcasts added to the excitement. I even put in a guest appearance on-air for a few minutes and discovered yes I can still talk!

Congratulations Doug and Janice Inch, Stacie and all the great people at the Dundurn St. McDonald's and McDonald's everywhere. Thank you for giving my son his first job a few years ago, a mighty impressive entry in any young person's resume and thank you for helping us learn a lesson in selflessness and finally, giving us all a constant in our lives, at a time when constants in the midst of uncertainty are as valuable as gold.

Life Outside the News Room

I'm running through a field of new spring grass, the sun is shining. No one else is in sight and the only sounds I hear are the chirping of birds and rustling of leaves in a gentle breeze. A dream? A flashback to a childhood?

No. It's me. Today at 50-something, untethered and in control of my time; time I never used to have, or at least time I seemed to be chasing from the moment I awoke until the moment I would finally and fitfully fall asleep..for a few hours. It's time I'm enjoying while most others, in the working world, are madly attacking their treadmills, the metaphoric ones in the work place and the real ones, in search of fitness (?) in their basements or local gyms.

I've learned there's another kind of fitness other than cut musculature and flat tummies. It's the mental and spiritual kind you don't get on a treadmill. I've found it in quiet times and easy conversation.

It may be hard for most of us to believe at the time, but life actually goes on outside the work place. In our own individual working worlds we tend to think that all that matters unfolds where we are. Yet while I had been tied up "making news" all those days, all those weeks and months and years, real life was happening off camera...in community halls, neighourhoods, mains streets and even open fields behind high schools. A conversation in the park between dog owners, while their charges sniff and play; a greeting in the grocery store that last last more than a few seconds; a lesson learned about someone or something; smiles!

Every morning now I read the whole newspaper, I drink ALL my tea and when I go into my closet and look at the rows and rows of my "on-air" suit jackets and high heels, I choose runners and yoga pants... Don't get me wrong I still clean up well and don the "anchor" hair for special occasions, like this Saturday's Hummingbird Ball for the Juravinski Cancer Centre.

An expert on the medicinal value of humour once told me in an interview, if you physically make yourself smile, you will feel happy and that the secret of true happiness is really choosing to be happy. You know what? It works! Even medical experts acknowledge the power of positive thinking in fighting life-threatening illnesses.

It's been a busy weekend, moving my son into a new house we purchased as an investment property ( we seem to buy property every time one of us loses a job...oh well, it's work out fine so far). The related stresses remind me of the working world pressures: impossible deadlines, unexpected challenges and crises. But it's Monday and not the kind of Monday I used to lament all those years.

I'm upstairs at my home office, where I spend a couple of hours "at work", staying connected in the hopes of one day re-entering that frightening working world. But I know it will be different next time because I'm different now. I take the time to breathe, smile, really talk to people and run through fields of new spring grass under sunny skies.

A Hand-up for "My Baby"

20 years ago my ankles were starting to swell, just like my belly. It was a joyous time. I was a novelty in the Newsroom: the first news anchor to have a baby!

Viewers followed my pregnancy on-air. Off-air, fellow newsie George Szostak rolled me around the news department in my desk chair (to save my ankles). The late great Tom Cherington made sure I had a nap every afternoon. Tom and Dan McLean watched in amazement as I'd experience "kicks", while reading the news. (I swear my son was using my bladder as a trampolene!) Field crews at Ivor Wynne Stadium fetched a deck chair to "take the load off" during a live broadcast, launching the new season for the Hamilton Tiger Cats under a new owner. Even on-air guests got into the act. Comics Tom Posten and Tim Conway stared at my stomach during our interview as they "watched the flowers grow on my dress!" I laughed so hard I almost went into labour right then and there!

In those months and weeks before his birth, I loved spending time in his room, decorating, arranging, imagining. His room had soft green carpet, and little bunnies in a wallpaper border. The rocking chair was an antique I had bought years before I ever contemplated becoming a Mom.

Today that baby is moving into a new room, in his own house...well, sort of. He is becoming a superintendent at a little bungalow we bought as an investment/hand-up for my son but not a hand-out! It was my husband's idea. I love him for it. Cal will pay rent and collect the rent from two room mates, pay utilities and make sure the grass is cut, snow is shovelled and garbage put out.

The memories flood back, of carrying him home from hospital, up the stairs and into his little crib, of that intoxicating "baby smell" that he brought into the house (the good kind that is!), the wondrous hours we spent alone in the middle of the night in that rocking chair. So tired, I remember now, reminding myself that these moments were precious and I must cherish them forever.

And so the moving truck loads up his computer, clothes, drum set and other odds and ends still in tact after an experimental year in a "student house", the typical kind you hear about with six bedrooms squeezed into a 60 plus year-old two-storey box. But the "party house"' atmosphere wears thin. Valuables, even money goes missing, some roommates fade away, others drift in.

We've bought him an early birthday present: a new bed, pillows, comforter, sheets, even new towels. I want to make sure his new room is cosy, comfortable and perfect just like I did 20 years ago. There will be pizza and beer after we unload. Does he have groceries,soap,toilet paper? Will he make sure he washes the floors and does his laundry? I will hold back. It's his turn now. "It's okay Mom, I can look after all that", he gently says. But I'm here if you need me. Another milestone. Sleep well my son and make sure you lock the door...

Lunch with Mom and Dad

Everytime I turn on to their (my old) street, I marvel at how big the trees have become. When the house was the newest in the subdivision, little "twigs" lined the street in an attempt to add some maturity to the brand spanking new neighbourhood.

The street that leads to theirs used to be a veritable "outpost" in east Burlington. The barely-paved road slanted to one side so badly, we used to think the car would roll right over. The neighbour behind us had a horse. Pete the Pony would be hooked up to a sleigh and pull all the kids around in the snow. Come spring the adjacent woods, complete with "tarzan vines" transformed into jungles and hideouts.

The house has changed a little over those forty-odd years; a few new walls and French doors, paint and wallpaper. The above-ground swimming pool that offered icy-cold refreshment on a hot summer night and invited great parties in later teen years is gone, replaced by a perennial garden and patio. My Dad should NOT be cutting the grass or shovelling snow. He insists the neighbours help him. My Mom tells me otherwise. She'd love to move to a nice new condo or townhouse, as long as they'd take their two little dogs, but not my Dad! "They'll have to carry me out in a pine box!", he's been heard to say. So Mom just finds "projects!" Re-paint a bedroom, a new floor here, a new counter there... My Dad reluctantly gives in to avoid the "M" word.

Pete the Pony is long gone and the jungle gave way to more new homes decades ago. The little twigs out front are tall, majestic shade trees, even the one that broke when I backed up into to it to get my confirmation photo taken on the front lawn.

So much has changed....but so much hasn't. Newspaper clippings that highlight their first born's 32-year-career in television cover the refrigerator as we share sandwiches, tea and my Mom's ever-present chocolate cake. At 50-something, a chat with Mom and Dad around the kitchen table, talking about my day, and some new job opportunities, is still good medicine.

False Summer in Southern Ontario

What a day....get out the shorts! Hurry! This won't last! Where are they! Buried under a pile of squished sweaters...and a T-shirt...wrinkled...doesn't matter. We're just going to be playing in the dirt anyway. Ah-h-h-h dirt ! ...the smell, the feel of earth, under the nails, in between the toes and yes even up the nose somehow, sometimes! That distinctively Canadian irresistable urge to plant strikes. We're not talking annuals, of course. That's after May 2-4. But evergreens, perennials, just any spot that yearns to bring forth new life, colour, a cause for celebration. Oh and pansies are OK too but what about those overgrowing specimens that came in a "Good Luck" planter during my "transition" from the workforce? They're now re-potted and sitting outside waiting for a new start just like me. The rains come, the temperature drops again, in typical southern Ontario spring fashion. It shouldn't be a surprise but it is a disappointment. We bring them inside to some artificial safety and put the shorts and T-shirts away. Maybe another day soon....

Breaking News!

The Service to Mankind Award is being returned today! A good samaritan, Pier Martin scooped it up where it had fallen out of its box a week ago in a parking lot at King and Hess. See past blog for details.

The Art of Dog Walking

I promised her today. When I joined the Free World a few months ago, dog walks were supposed to be a daily event. They are most of the time...all through the long cold winter, EXCEPT when it was blowing snow or icy. And all through this spring EXCEPT when it's raining....or...more and more now...except when I ve filled up my daily calendar with events!

Yoga twice a week, a good thing I decide, having tea with Mom and or Aunts and or sisters or lunch with Mom and or Aunts and or sisters and or friends. There are weekly, often many times weekly charity and community functions and the occasional promising business meeting a.k.a dipping of the toe in the work force, albeit ever so gingerly and fleetingly...at this point.

My point is, like moving into a house with bigger closets, I am filling up by social space and the worst culprit, which I still maintain is keeping in "the loop", and "up to speed" is the square box on my new home office desk. I "go to work" every day around 9:30. My hours are usually 9:30 to 12:30, then, perhaps an hour or so in the afternoon, depending on the weather. Today it's sunny and warming up and my new boss is very open to cutting me some well-deserved slack.

She knows all this. Tilly knows that if I don't put on shoes right after breakfast, she has to wait until "after work". There is the look of anticipation in her eyes as I peruse the morning paper but... no shoes...no walk...not yet. It's 10:42 and she's given up on me, lying on the living room floor trying to lose her doggie disappointment in a late morning nap. But I do love my dog walks. It's one of the few times I really breathe, outside of yoga class. I think as we go, about what I have to do in the next few hours, days, weeks. I think of how wonderful it is just to walk and breathe and think ...and smile! Okay Tilly, let's go!!!

The Circle of Life in the Labour Force

I find myself in the interesting yet confounding position of looking for work and mentoring younger women in the broadcasting industry looking for advice about looking for work. Would I listen to myself considering I'm out of work? It makes one question one's decisions throughout a career; decisions that have inevitably led to my place in middle age life today.

While unemployed, I'm happy. Maybe I shouldn't be happy? I'm not happy about being unemployed but content and confident that my choices throughout my career were the right ones for me at the time, choices that forced me to stop and "smell the roses" now.

I had breakfast today with a bubbly, enthusiastic young reporter who has chalked up incredible experience in a relatively short time, slugging it out and proving herself in difficult circumstances. She recently walked away from a job situation and tells me some of her colleagues say she's crazy. I tell her she's crazy to stay if you're not happy. It's a case of "Do what I say" though, not "Do what I do or did.."

I advise her not to do what I did...stay somewhere too long! Trust your gut feeling, I say, even if it means you might be out of work for a while. As long as you can get by and especially if you have no ties or obligations, take control of your career early before it controls you! It took me way too long to realize that. While I loved my job, I didn't love what was happening to me but didn't see or acknowledge how the quality of work life was so negatively affecting me. I needed a nudge and boy did I get it. Decades of hard work, and loyalty don't always earn loyalty back...a tough lesson.

Learning does last a lifetime. I've also in my mature years learned another lesson: there are certain times, certain milestone moments in life when careers must take a back seat. Burn-out is becoming rampant in today's workforce and family/life balancel must be brought back into the equation. In my rush to get back into the workforce, after giving birth to my son, I gave up precious months and years with him. In my desperation to hang on to a media-made "identity" in a growing negative landscape, I lost my own sense of value. I have it back again. I also have time to focus on the things I'm passionate about: my family, my home, my community and MY future. And yes that includes a pay check down the road but not at the price of my sense of self and well being.

2 hours with Aunt Beab

I am Beab to my family. That's B-E-A-B. My sister Claudia didn't know how to 1. say baby or 2. spell baby when she named me this when she was learning to talk. With just two years between us, she considered me to be a baby too! The name stuck so that it sosunds really strange to be in a situation with my family where someone calls me Connie...they even kind of stumble around it!
Needless to say the next generation is carrying on the tradition. Since my temporary (I hope) transition into unemployment (terminated as a new anchor at CHCH-TV Hamilton after 32 years), I am know enjoying babysitting my youngest sister's three little ones: Aiden, 10, Jordan, 7 and Sierre, 5. I love it. I have a "shift" today at 3:30. I meet my sister Barbi in the parking lot to switch the carseat for the youngest. She takes off to teach a yoga class, Aunt Beab takes off with my 3 "starving" charges to Tim Horton's. Hot chocolate? Sure! A donut with sprinkles? Why not! Can we eat in? Of course! After about a half an hour of decompressing after a tough day in school, home we go to...cartoons! Boy have they changed and were those whiney cartoon voices always that annoying? They don't seem to mind and neither do I really. Sometimes I even get a little snuggle on the couch. Today Aunt Beab could be up to bat at Wii...and I can't wait!

Service to Mankind

It's called Sertoma...SERvice TO MAnkind. It's a wonderful service club that has helped disabled children and other needy organizations for more than 50 years in Hamilton. Sertoma saw fit to present me with their Service to Mankind Award last week but little did they know a tale of mystery and intrigue would soon follow. Sometime between receiving the plaque and gettinginto my sister's van, the solid wooden award vanished. We re-traced our steps, searched the beautiful dining room of the Scottish Rite, looking under the table, between the seat cushions in the parlour and even the ladies' room...NOTHING! Where and how could a rather hefty and very visible article like this just disappear. A phone call from my former employer solved the caper. A woman found it in the parking lot at King and Hess, leaning against a light standard. She recognized my name and called CHCH-TV. It seems it quietly slid out an unsealed end of the box it came in and quietly came to rest in a vertical position which must have made it made it difficult to see. Thank You Pierre Martin for a service to mankind about a service to mankind from a service to mankind. I will see you Friday for the "hand-over"!

Yoga in the Morning

There's nothing like "double pigeon" to loosen you up and stretch you out to start the day.
There's also the benefit of clearing the mind and clarifying thought just ahead of an important business meeting. It's great to have a yogini in the family! Transformation time: from yoga pants and poney tail to business suit and tamed tresses! Here's hoping for some good news on a rainy day... I feel myself edging closer to a microphone once again. I see such a void in the kind of broadcasting I enjoy most at a time when we need it most! Stay tuned!

A Lazy Sunday

No where to go, nothing to do...that HAS to be done that is...love it!
Just one thing on the "to do" list...a quick trip downtown to try to find my lost award,a deepening mystery! After receiving Sertoma Hamilton's Service to Mankind Award, I lost it, or rather, it disappeared, sometime between receiving it last Thursday at the Scottish Rite luncheon and the time I got into my sister's van. All I held in my arms was an empty cardboard box with one open end. Sertoma has done such wonderful things from supporting children with cerebral palsy to the famed Around the Bay Road Race. Now it struggles to embrace a new generation with a social conscience and a sense of commitment. We retraced our steps, from the parking lot to the building, looked under the immense and ancient dining room table and parlour seat cushions. Where could it be? Did someone find it? If so please contact the writer!

My date with Ronald McDonald

Tonight, accompanied by my husband Dave Wilson, I emcee the Ronald McDonald House Gala which raises funds to help "keep the lights on" at Hamilton, Ontario's home away from home for the families of little ones in hospital.
Pearl Wolfe and her team, both staff and volunteer, are a dedicated group of individuals who make such a difference to families in crisis...a hand on a shoulder, a late night chat, an understanding smile...compassion. It's a powerful force that makes our world a better place.
There is such a need and everywhere I look I see wonderful stories of ordinary people doing extraordinary things, such inspiration for more of us to do the same!