Practice ... I Mean We're Talking About Practice!

 One of a least 100 pictures I have of

Guinness leaping in the air to catch the ball

He's a dog who puts everything he has into chasing a ball -

every single time he goes after the ball

The other day, John, Madie and I were playing nine holes at our golf club.  The course at our club is a challenging one with narrow fairways, a great deal of water (the Don River intersects the course 14 times over 18 holes) and some challenging bunker placements.  Overall the course demands forethought and an ability to place the ball; rather than hitting it and hoping for the best (which is how I usually play the game).  But, lo and behold on the 9th hole during my approach shot to the green, from about 130 yards out, I sunk my shot!  It was a spectacular shot to an elevated green, that landed about 10 feet from the pin and promptly rolled in.  If I was a pro and it were a televised game, it would have certainly made the highlight reel!

To say the least, I was absolutely gobsmacked (such a great word, that North Americans don't utilize enough)!  Though I have to admit a great deal of luck went into the shot and I probably couldn't come close to repeating it ever again in my life.  I ended up double bogeying the hole (I know, quite the accomplishment given my final shot), due to a rather unfortunate tee shot that ended up in the river, yet even with the unfortunate score, I was quite happy, because what I think is happening, is that all my practice is starting to pay off.

I practice golf, far more than I practice hockey.  It shows in my golf game and it certainly shows in my hockey game!

Guinness, is our family dog.  He's a rescue dog whose highly attached to our family and to chasing a bright pink tennis ball.  At times, I think he'd have a hard time deciding which is the more important to him, and in my heart of hearts, I fear the tennis ball would win out (but only if it's bright pink).

Guinness is walked three times a day now.  Actually the term 'walk' is a bit of a misnomer, since the only walking that takes place is on our way to or from the park (or school grounds or beach).  Once there Guinness single mindedly chases a ball.  Oh, there are odd interruptions to take care of doggy bodily functions and he might deign to give a fellow pooch the odd sniff, but all in all, he's incredibly focused upon chasing said pink tennis ball.

He's absolutely amazing at leaping and twisting to catch the ball in mid air.  He's never been taught to do so and he's quite aware that he can remain on the ground to catch the ball, but I think he prefers the challenge of an acrobatic catch.  We use a device called a "chuckit" which is an elongated arm that holds a tennis ball and allows the thrower to gain far greater distance with their throw (another positive to this device, is that it allows the thrower to pick up the ball without touching it, an important feature with a doggy saliva soaked ball).  We throw and throw and throw ....  Guinness loves it.

Today while I was throwing the ball for Guinness I got to thinking and then to timing.  I throw a ball approximately every 30 seconds and usually we're out for an hour - which means

1 outing = 120 throws (catches and returns)  ... yes we are approximating
3 outings per day (120 x 3) = 360 throws (catches and returns)
7 days per week (7 x 360) =  2520 throws (catches and returns)
52 weeks per year (52 x 2520) =  131,040 throws (catches and returns)

OK I know there are days he doesn't get three outings, but there are other days, like on the weekend when John takes him to the beach for a couple of hours or when we go to a cottage and it lasts all day ... so I think it all works out ....

This since Guinness is 3 ... 3 x 131,040 = 393,120 throws (catches and returns).  Or 3 hours per day x 365 days per year 1095 hours per year which is 3,285 hours over Guinness' lifetime so far ...

No wonder he's good.  We're talking about a lot of practice .... now only if I could do that with my golf or hockey skills ... I'd still never be as good as Guinness is ... and I even use pink golf balls!  Maybe I should look for a bright pink hockey puck!

... I think I can ... well close enough!

Julie & I before the race .... before The Hill

It all seemed so sensible months ago .... ah the best laid plans ....  Goal setting is supposed to be important in your fitness regime in order to keep things fresh and to keep you motivated.  It all sounds great when you're sitting by the fireplace with a glass of wine, while you cruise through the Internet looking for a 5K race to run in.  It sounded even better when my friend Julie and stepdaughter Madie decided that they'd join me in the run - The more the merrier I foolishly thought; plus it was almost two months away and I thought I'd be a paragon of fitness by then.

Well the race was last weekend and to be honest it was a blast!  OK, to be honest there were points during the race when I would not describe things as a 'blast', more like 'near death experience', but now that it's all said and done, I would plan on doing another race ... but maybe only in a month or two from now! 

The race was run in the valley behind the Ontario Science Centre, which made it both scenic, as well as challenging, since we had to run down into the valley to run the paths - as Newton's (I believe it's the 3rd) Law states "for every action, there's an equal and opposite reaction" - so for the run down at the beginning, it meant that we had to run up at the end.  Julie and I ran together, actually let me qualify that, we jogged slowly together; on the other hand, Madie, since she had not trained and had no idea how to pace herself, actually ran the course. 

There's a certain benefit to being as naive as Madie was during the race.  She simply ran as fast and as long as she could.  In the end, she place second, which is amazing and I hope that it kindles a love of running since she obviously has a talent.

On the other hand, Julie and I simply soldiered through the race, by using a combination of training, slow pace, determination and pride (neither one of us wanted to walk or come last).  Unfortunately we were both defeated by the hill at the end.  I tried conjuring up every running inspirational quote that I knew, but somehow trying to evoke The Little Engine That Could, just couldn't help me ... we both walked up the hill.  Julie started sprinting at the top of the hill, which of course inspired me to do the same!  We ran across the finish line with Julie about 10 feet in front of me (considering that she's 23 years younger than I am, that's pretty good for me, of course we won't discuss that she had recently gotten over an extremely badly sprained ankle, I have to take my small victories where I can).

As a goal, the race worked well.  I have to admit there were days where I might have skipped a workout or gone a little easier, but the spectre of the eventual race was always looming over me!

It wasn't easy, it wasn't pretty, but it was fun!

Goal Setting

                                            Let be real, this isn't me, but maybe someday ....

I've been trying to lose weight with varying degrees of success.  What's really been the big success so far, is that I'm finally starting to get into shape.  I've been faithfully going to the gym for the past two and half months and it finally hit me today while I was walking the dog, that I'm actually looking forward to my workouts, instead of dreading them and trying to think up excuses to avoid them.  This is a big step forward!

My weight isn't really moving (and it needs to), but I've stopped obsessively worrying about it.  I'm just concentrating on getting fitter (more fit?) and hope that the weight will start dropping off eventually. 

There were a couple of different reasons for this whole fitness regime, the main reason being the quality of my life.  I'd reached a point that I was the heaviest I've ever been, everything ached and I could no longer really enjoy doing the things I like to do.  Hockey had started to become more of chore, instead of the joy that it originally had been, simply because I was so weak and slow, that I became more of a hindrance to my team rather than the limited help that I wanted to be.

And so I've endured a lot of time at the gym on the treadmill and recently on the bike.  It still isn't easy, I don't think it will ever be easy at my point in life.  Yet I can finally jog continually at a slow pace for 30 minutes.  I know it's not much, but it's a big accomplishment for me, thus I decided to enter a 5K race so I'd keep on track with my fitness goals.  A few clicks of my computer mouse and lo and behold I was registered to run the Walk of Life 5K run at the Science Centre on May 14th.  My friend Julie has decided to register too and last night Madie said she wanted to run also (though I think she was more interested in the free T shirt).

Thus a goal has been set and I know I can work towards it.  I remember a hundred years ago when I started to compete in Triathlons, that I could run a 5K in 25 minutes.  I doubt I'll hit that, but I am hoping for a sub 30 minute time.  Stay tuned to see if I do!

And yes, there has been some crazy talk about doing another triathlon - do stay tuned!

Family & Friends

The Ross Boys (Jamie, Justin, Kyle & Jordan) Between Games

Any parent who has put their child into hockey and especially competitive hockey, knows only too well what a huge time, as well as financial commitment that means.  It's a labour of love, both for the parent and the child, since that's what you require to make those numerous practices, games and tournaments; in addition to the never ending requirements for equipment as they grow in both size and skill level.  A cold hockey arena is really only fun for those play - those watching are there in a supportive (and chilled) role.   

In 1961, Ken and Mary Lou Ross started my husband John in hockey, his brothers Les and Doug soon followed.  The rule in the Ross household was the year you learned to walk, was the winter you started to skate.  All three of the Ross boys followed that maxim.  The Ross boys were all two years apart in age, so of course this necessitated various leagues, lessons and age groupings, but also allowed for a lot of hand me downs as well.  The Ross boys played a lot of hockey in the Lindsay/Peterborough area.  John talks about by the age of 12, play by play radio broadcasts of his games would be the norm.  All the Ross boys would experience this.  All of it was made possible by Ken and Mary Lou Ross.

Brothers, John and Doug Ross

Time would pass, and eventually the Ross boys gave up their dreams of playing in the NHL and started their careers and families.  They too would now spend countless hours ferrying their kid(s) to arenas, buying equipment, coaching, sending their kids to hockey camp ... now with the youngest of the group turning 17, the time spent continuing their parent's legacy is slowly coming to a conclusion.  The matriarch of the group, Mary Lou, has continued her involvement with her grand children's hockey (Ken passed away in 1993), she's still a keen fan and supporter.  Only time will tell if this generation of hockey players will create a new generation of hockey players.

Madie (the youngest grandchild) and Mary Lou

On Monday February 21st (Family Day), we had the rare opportunity of bringing the Ross clan together to play hockey in a tournament put on by Hockey Toronto.  The Ross boys (John, Les and Doug) had never played an actual game together growing up due to their age differences.  The same with the next generation (Justin, Jordan, Jamie, Kyle & Madie).  Somehow we managed to bring it all together, with the addition of myself, Les' buddy Dave and his son Paul, along with some Blues teammates, Aaron, Meghan, Tyler and Nick.

We had an absolute blast! Doug hadn't played in an actual game in about 30 years (his equipment clearly attested to this fact).  Justin had left hockey many years ago also, but it didn't really matter, what mattered was the fact that we had a chance to spend the day together, playing a game we loved.  For the fathers to play with their sons (and daughters) was a wonderful opportunity!  

I silently thanked my luck stars that I had been working out for a month beforehand, since otherwise I wouldn't have lasted through the third game.

We acquitted ourselves well, in fact we went into overtime against the team that won the tournament, so that says a great deal for some of the talent on our team.  Mary Lou said it was hilarious to watch our bench, since all the grand kids were standing up watching, while all her sons were sitting down (valiantly trying to regain their breath).

At the end of the day, we played some great hockey, went 1 - 2, drank a few beers and more importantly got to spend some fantastic time together as a family - now that's what Family Day should be all about!

Ménage à Trois

John & I in all our Splendor



Marriage means commitment.  Of course, so does insanity.  ~ Author Unknown

I am someone, to whom words have always come easily.  I was that kid in your English class who could pull together an essay at the last second and receive a great grade (I was the antithesis in math class - see, God is fair).  I've been meaning to blog about what it's like to play hockey on the same team as your spouse, but for some reason I've found that it's a topic that has so far been able to defy my ability to craft some semblance in to my unique situation, without digressing into some schmaltzy Hallmark moment (the today I married my best friend kind of cheese).  I consider myself to be an incredibly lucky lady to have found, albeit later in life, my soul mate and a great defence man all in the same person.  At night I can spoon together with a man who I find incredibly attractive, who protects me from the things that go bump in the night and who manages to cover up for me when I let a pass get past me. 


This is a second marriage for both John and I.  A second marriage is best described as hope triumphing over experience.  Perhaps meeting each other when we were older and wiser put certain aspects into perspective for us both.  When John and I met, I had already made a conscious decision that my divorce, though incredibly painful, would not define me as a person and that I would not let it tarnish my viewpoint towards love and commitment.  At the time, I was busy rebuilding my social life through involvements in sports, something that I had let slip.  Thus I found myself in whirlwind of softball and curling and eventually, through John's suggestion, hockey.  I find it ironic that the great loves of my life, came along together somewhat.  While we dated, my involvement in hockey grew.  Many a date were spent in various arenas watching Jamie, John's son, play competitive hockey, then on weekends we would meet at Toogood pond in Markham to skate on a massive outdoor pond.  My first time stick handling (other than standing in front of a garage door, receiving slap shots from my brother), was with a borrowed stick, as I skated around the pond, watching John interact with his kids, patiently picking Madie up from a snow bank after yet another spill, that I saw the man I was learning to love as an incredible father as he played hockey with his kids.

As John and I became more and more involved, the only aspect that made leaving him at the end of a weekend bearable (we lived about an hour apart), was that I had my adult hockey lessons on Sunday evenings to look forward to.  I'd call him after the lesson, regaling him with all that I had learned and experienced.  He let me prattle on and make sensible suggestions on ways to improve or practice. 

We were living together by the time I started with my beginner team.  He watched our first practice/lesson and was wise enough to respond to my inquiry as to how I did with a simple, "Looked like you were having fun."   He understood and supported the fact that I wanted to play hockey the day after we were married and thus delayed our honeymoon. 

John joined my beginner team after we had become experts (said with tongue in cheek) after one season.  He'd be the oldest on the team and hadn't played and organized game in about 25 years, yet he brought far more experience and expertise to the rink then the rest of our team combined.  At this point I was playing games twice a week and picking up a game of shinny once in a while, we saw it as a way to do something together - a sort of "date night."  Both kids were there for our first game together.  I won't describe that game, let it suffice to say that we were soundly defeated and terribly outplayed (we had moved into a new night and division).  John was the only player on the ice who could really do much to stop the inexorable tide of the other team.  He was exhausted and frustrated by the fact that most of us couldn't take his pass (his shot was a tad more forceful than ours) and that we really didn't know our positional play (I guess that one year had taught us too much).  It was silent in the car on the way home until we started to get close to home.

"You really should backcheck more, you know" he said in an exhausted tone of voice.

"I was backchecking," I replied, "They were 20 years younger than me and faster."

"'Oh."

That's the last conversation that John and I have about my level of play in hockey.  It's now two years later, and we're still playing together!  He's still playing at a level far below his abilities, but since it's easy for him to play down and impossible for me to play better than I am, it suits us. 

I'm 48 and John's 52, I don't know how much longer our bodies will allow us to play hockey.  We've met an incredible array of new friends through our involvement in hockey and don't have any immediate plans of quitting.  I could end this all off with a double entendre with regards to taking and giving a pass between us, but I think by this point you've got the idea of how things are between John, myself and hockey.  Who said a ménage a trois wouldn't work in a marriage?  The three of us seem to be getting along just fine. 

Hockey Parents

a typical scene from any hockey rink

Take a step into any hockey rink during non school hours and you'll usually see the same spectacle.  A lot of happy, sweaty kids and a lot of parents drinking Tim Hortons and hauling their kid's stuff around. 

For those 6 a.m. games!

Without parental (or adult) support, no child could ever play hockey.  The sheer logistics of getting one's equipment to and from the rink is daunting enough, but add in the cost and time lines, then you see that unless one (or preferably both) parents are on on board, then hockey remains out of reach for an unsupported child. 

If you read about the backgrounds of any pro hockey player, you will definitely see a common thread of parental involvement, but more importantly of parental sacrifice.  For a child to succeed in any sport, it usually requires parental sacrifice, but you'll find it even more so in hockey.  A kid can take a soccer ball and walk down to the local park to practice for hours on end, but to play hockey you need a parent willing to chauffeur the kid and the equipment back and forth to the rink.  Ice time on the weekends is at a premium, so frequently it means very early mornings for both the kids and the parents.

It's not too bad watching your kid play a game, but watching them practice is pretty tedious.  I remember Jamie's weekly practice were just far enough away from home that it didn't make any sense dropping him off and returning home, then picking him up later, since by the time you'd drive home you simply had to turn around and return to the rink to pick him up.  Thus you would sit around and watch him practice, drinking the requisite coffee and conducting desultory conversations with the other parents.

Of course there are the tournaments and the hockey training camps all of which require parental involvement, and more importantly parental time.

Even Madie's house league means ferrying her back and forth (thankfully she's old enough to carry her own equipment).

Why do parent's do it?  All you have to see is the look on a kid's face while they're playing to know why you do it.

In the end it's really quite simple.  If the kid loves it, a parent should do whatever they can to help their kid enjoy such an incredible sport.  If the kid doesn't love the game and a parent only has them in to live vicariously, then that's wrong, respect your kid, let your own dreams go and let the child find his/her own true passion.

I know I did.



A Bit of a Difference!

John coaching in the Scarborough Shark's Open League

(notice how closely the girls are paying attention to him)

It can be hard to coach a girl's hockey team at the house league level.  It can be really hard coaching a bunch of girls in the 15 to 20 age group (Open).  All the coaches in the Open level are middle-aged males, not only do they have a hard time remembering what it was like to be a teenager, they're pretty much stymied when it comes to how a teen girl thinks.  They didn't get teen girls when they were teens, they're sure not going to get it now, that they're middle-aged.  Not only are they handicapped by mindset and age, they coaches have to extremely careful about entering the dressing room, along with watching any undue physical contact with the players (how many male coaches have you seen swat their male players on the bottom without a second thought?).  Nevertheless these stalwart group of men are out there twice a week, making line ups, making sure everybody gets a fair amount of ice time and opening and closing the bench door.  It takes a special kind of man to venture into that realm.

Craig MacTavish coaching the Edmonton Oilers

(notice he's getting a little more attention, but there's still players who

aren't paying attention - shows hockey player are pretty much the same)

When you think about it, NHL coaches have it a bit easier.  Sure they have to deal with the media frenzy and some huge player's egos.  Yet they can enter the team's dressing room at will, they don't have to knock frenziedly on the door, unanswered, since the girls are too busy talking, giggling and squealing to hear the knock.  An NHL coach doesn't have to worry if he'll have enough players on Halloween (John's game was defaulted since only 2 players on each team showed up).  The typical NHL star doesn't send out an email to their coach an hour before the game, saying they're parents won't let them play because they haven't finished their homework (I agree with the parents - homework first).  Lets be honest, the NHL coaches don't have to deal with players having their period and accompanying mood swings.

Alright, I admit that the NHL coaches are under huge pressure to produce winning teams, but when was the last time they had to deal with someone not wanting to be on their team, because they thought they didn't look good in a certain coloured jersey?  Of course, there's the issue of trades, these are carefully scrutinized in the NHL, but in girls hockey, if a girl is traded to another team in order to balance out the league, well then her friend has to go with her and if her friend has a friend ....

I'm not saying that the NHL coaches don't deserve their heft salaries, but maybe what I am saying is that the volunteer behind your daughter's bench deserves a lot of thanks - maybe buy him a beer at Christmas!

The Girl is Kicking Ass

Mad in game mode!

I went to watch my stepdaughter play hockey the other night and had a blast watching the game.  Madie lives with her dad and I full-time, she's 16, and like me, started playing the game later in life (she started at 13 and I started at 45, not really the same thing, but for kid's hockey she started late, just as I did for adult hockey).  She plays in the Scarborough Shark's house league system in Toronto and it's the right level for her skills and interest.  She enjoys the camaraderie that team play brings, as well as the exercise.

As a kid, Mad's parents signed her up for the usual T-Ball and soccer, but ever since she was little, Mad's been a kid to follow her own path.  She was the kid out there picking the dandelions or looking for bugs, completely oblivious to whatever game was occurring around her.  Because of her undiagnosed ADD and learning disability in her childhood, she had a tough time following rules and verbal instructions, which made organized activities a disaster.  That her brother was a natural athlete and highly competitive made her even more adverse to getting involved in sports, especially hockey, which was/is his primary game.   Compounding the problem was her parent's acrimonious divorce, which resulted in Mad and her brother becoming a "pushmepullme" in their parent's vastly different parenting styles, as well as geographical locations.  Organized sports are difficult to maintain when you're away from home every other weekend and for a month in the summer. 

Once I came to live with John and the kids, things started to fall in to place for Mad.  As a teacher, I recognized her ADD and learning disability and those issues were dealt with appropriately.  Once she was on an even playing field with the rest of the world, Mad began to slowly realize her own potential.  She eagerly signed up for adult beginner hockey lessons with me (since she's 5'10", she easily passed for an adult and she didn't want to learn with little kids).  Because I was a beginner, she felt at ease with making the mistakes that beginners do and she no longer felt she was being compared to her brother.  After a season of lessons, I found the Scarborough Sharks for her.  It was one of the few House Leagues in Toronto that didn't play on the weekends (at that time she was continuing her visitation schedule with her mom), thus finding a league where she could play during a week night was great.  John, her dad (my husband), signed up as coach which allowed him to help Mad even more, since when she started, she was mostly playing with kids who'd played for years.  John could give her tips from the bench on positioning and how to avoid going offside (it took her awhile to get this rule, but then again, I know adults that I play with, who still struggle with it).  She took to the whole thing like a duck to water and has never looked back.  It has given her a whole new confidence that can be seen in her attitude to school and other extra curricular activities.

Mad (#13) muscling a player off the puck

Mad stickhandling

Coach John

When Mad entered High School she signed up to play girl's rugby, a game that no one in our family has ever played.  The kid who was afraid of needles and mosquitoes, signed up to play a sport where physical contact is an expected occurrence.  She took the confidence from her hockey skills and transferred them to rugby.  The attitude that she picked up in hockey about bumps and bruises being no big deal, was quickly transferred to rugby, whereby she'd proudly display her latest contusions with pride.

Mad (#6) playing rugby

.

I'm not saying that hockey is the only reason that Mad is the successful student and athlete that she is today.  The road has been a long and twisting one and certainly has much further to go.  The person who is the most responsible for Mad's success is Mad, she has proven to herself and the rest of the world that she is incredibly tenacious, simply because she believes if she tries hard enough, she'll get it.  So now Mad is an honour student; a hockey, golf and rugby player; as well as member of the school newspaper and writer's club. Not too bad for the kid who picked the dandelions!

Hockey in the Family



Family Hockey Game - John on the left, Jamie in the Centre &

Me on the Right

If you look closely, I'm missing my Right Wing - I think they saw I was facing off,

put their stick down and left



Our whole family plays hockey, which can mystify non players, but makes total sense to us.   The family calendar is a mish mash of appointments, reminders and most importantly, hockey games.  A year or two ago, it was even worse, since Jamie was playing at a competitive level in Toronto, which meant two games a week, plus practice, plus training.  John or I were constantly ferrying him to one location or another.  Then when I started to play hockey, I asked Madie if she wanted to play hockey too, she was 13 and I was 46, since (like the rest of her family) she's tall, she was allowed to take Adult Hockey Level 1, what we lacked in skill, we made for in enthusiasm.  After a season of training, Madie joined a Girl's recreational House League, I joined a beginner Adult League and John, bless the man, volunteered to coach Madie's team.  Jamie was now (on occasion) dragged out to watch Madie play, as she had been dragged out for so many years (John was a single dad for many years) to watch Jamie play.

As a parent, with a child in competitive hockey, one of the happiest days is when they obtain their G2 driving license and can now drive unaccompanied to their hockey games.  Jamie loved the independence of having the car on his own, and we loved the fact that we didn't have to spend another evening in a cold arena.  Plus as the kids get older, their start times move later, Jamie's games in his final year of playing, usually started around 10 pm, which was when I was getting ready for bed!

Things are a tad calmer in our household these days.  Jamie's now away at University and has chosen to play in a contact intramural league.  He's responsible for keeping his schedule organized which frees up a lot of space on our calendar.  Right now John and I are playing on Tuesday and Friday nights in a co-ed league.  I play on woman's team on Sunday night.  Madie plays on Sundays and Mondays (with John coaching that night).  When people call our house and can't get an answer, they always assume we're out playing hockey, usually we are.

My Mother in Law (Mary Lou) and her son (John's Brother) Doug

she gets the hockey thing



All family events are planned around our hockey schedule.  Luckily most of our extended family plays hockey too and understands the priority that hockey takes in your life.  When John and I were married, we chose to have a family hockey game instead of having a rehearsal party.  Since is was a second marriage for both of us, we knew the routine of "I dos", hockey was more interesting (and more fun).   When we set dates for Thanksgiving dinner or Birthday parties, the first consideration is everybody's hockey schedule.  Madie is now working her first part time job, and suddenly, since her season starts today, has to consider how she'll balance, school, work and hockey.   The parent in me says that school comes first; the hockey maniac in me says that hockey comes first; luckily her employer has a son that plays hockey too, so he gets the vagrancies of a hockey schedule. 

At the end of the day, it's all a balancing act.  If you can't find me or reach me, look in at the local arena, I'm probably there!

To be Thankful

Canadian & American Military Personal Play Road Hockey

in Afghanistan

photo:  Vancouver Sun

The Thanksgiving long weekend is about to begin.  As I type this, Jamie, my stepson, is boarding a bus to make his way back home from his first month away at University.  A cheesecake is baking in the oven (his favourite), in a few hours I'll put a Prime Rib in the oven to roast, prepare some risotto (another favourite of his), and make a cauliflower/cheese bake.  I may or may not have enough time to enjoy all of that before I have to take off with John for our Co-ed hockey game tonight.  We even have a keg of Heineken chilling in John's draft system that he received for father's day.  After the game is over, John and I will forgo drinks with the team, in order to hurry back home to have a cold one with Jamie.  To sleep peacefully knowing that he's safe under our roof.  Right now, life is good.

I have so much to be thankful about.  I live in an incredible country that provides me with so much.  I spent a long time back packing amongst Europe and Northern Africa when I graduated from University.  I had a chance to see so many amazing places, but I was content to return to my home, I could recognize even in my youth, the quality of life that we as Canadians enjoy.  I've travelled to many countries and have always been proud to pronounce my nationality.   I'd like to say a big Thank You to our armed forces that helps to keep our country safe, and who represents us so well around the world.

I'm incredibly thankful for my family.  I'm married to a man I adore.  His wry sense of humour cracks me up time and time again.  I've got two step kids that have brought me into the realm of motherhood, (whether I was ready for it or not).  They amaze me with their ability to adapt to our new life together.  Of course they're teens that do stupid teen things (I did even more stupid things in my day), but they're respectful, do well in school and argue like an old married couple with each other (I call them Mr & Mrs Bickerson).  Then rounding out this motley crew is Guinness, who we rescued from a shelter just over two years ago.  He's a lab/sheppard mix, he's obsessed with tennis balls, but gives us all unmitigated love.

The Ross/Mooney Family

I'm also thankful for my extended family.  My mom and step dad are my biggest cheerleaders.  My mother in law is supportive, warm, caring and has been known to enjoy a glass (or two) of white wine with me on occasion (or two).  My brother whom I spent my teens despising, I eventually discovered is an intelligent and warm person, I even had the delight of playing hockey with him this summer.  Of course there are numerous friends, both old and new who occupy a significant role in my life.  I'm thankful that Neil, my ex husband and I managed to save our friendship out of the ashes of our marriage.

I'm thankful that I'm healthy (knees notwithstanding) and that my family is healthy too.

I'm thankful that I discovered hockey and thus met so many incredible people, plus it gives a whole new meaning to "date night" for John and I.

I'm thankful for the beautiful home that John and I built.  That we're safe and warm at night, that we have plenty to eat (too much at times), that we can take the kids or just ourselves and travel to interesting places.

I'm thankful that Mom and Tom survived their bouts with cancer and pray that my sister in law does too.

When I go to sleep tonight, it won't matter if we won or lost our hockey game.  What will matter, is that John and I were able to play a game that we both love, together.  That we'll have both kids sleeping safely under our roof tonight.  I'll lay in bed, listening to John and Guinness snore softly and know that I am blessed, and that I am thankful.