May 10, 2018



ready. set. launch!


sweet savary


Crack open the Rosé and celebrate...
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I’m passionate about so many things, where do I begin? Like you, I'm on this amazing, sometimes challenging journey called life. I love to share my experiences. No topic is off limits and I'm not afraid to say it how I see it. Let's hop on this journey together!

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I recently travelled to New York City to celebrate my oldest son’s 21st birthday.  I know, some of you are thinking, 21 in Canada isn’t really a thing since the drinking age is 19 in most provinces.  None the less, it’s not all about consuming vast quantities of alcohol, well, maybe just a little bit.  Turning 21 is a prestigious milestone, declaring one’s self a new member of adult society and celebrating the coming of age or the right of passage.  It was a great opportunity (or excuse) to spend four days of mother-son time together, New York city was the icing on the cake.

We decided to forgo spending $900 on Hamilton tickets and settled on making things up as we went along.  My son, who’s a fashion junky, put shopping the latest niche stores on his must-do list, I couldn’t think of anything better! Apples and trees? Since we were celebrating a birthday,  I wanted a “special” dinner out, trying @BouludSud, a New York classic, he was keen to try anything.  We shopped and ate our way through the city, stopping for a few cocktails along the way.  Twenty-one looks good on him, I loved our many conversations, his views on life, love and the future, his genuine enthusiasm and honesty, it’s hard to believe he’s all grown up…



I can remember my 21st birthday like it was yesterday, instead, I was bound for London, this being my first trip to Europe.  I had no idea what to expect, only images of movies in my head.  Within an hour of landing, I was enjoying my first gin and tonic at a small bar near Victoria Station, tasty, I might add.  I was definitely a deer in headlights, my eyes and senses taking it all in.  Everything was so foreign to me, the architecture, a Royal Palace, Cathedrals, pubs and crowds…I loved every bit of it and I couldn’t get enough!



Saint Paul’s Cathedral…love how my stripes match the pillars

I celebrated my 21st birthday in BIG style, my friends took me to the “Hippodrome”, which in the day was the equivalent to studio 54.  Little old me in this hugely popular disco, they wouldn’t let just anyone in, you were given the once over and only then could you go inside.  I hadn’t seen anything like this before, it was enormous, built in the 1900’s, this disco had the capacity to fit up to 2000 people.  I wandered around the club, trying not to stare too long at the characters I came across.  I finally found the “loo”, uncertain why there were so many men and women milling about, was I in the right place?  I didn’t realize it then but this would be my first experience being surrounded by openly gay people. I’m sure my mouth was wide open the entire time, the big city had changed me at that moment.  I can recall admiring a beautiful dark haired women walking past me in a strapless dress, I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with what I was seeing…ah, it was a man in a strapless dress, cutting him just below the nipples.  I was so naive, seriously naive…


Whether you’re twenty-one or fifty, every year is a milestone, just to be healthy, happy and alive is celebration enough.  I loved being twenty-one but I wouldn’t trade my 53-year-old self for anything.  The memories of my trip to London will always be close to my heart, my New York trip with my twenty-one-year-old son, priceless!









The comments +

  1. Such a very nice post to read. It would be so helpful to be able to send our younger selves a letter from our more seasoned, perhaps wiser selves on not so much the things to avoid as we need them to shape our character and wisdom – but when we should linger an extra moment or even a day. The conversation extended that was rushed or the invite accepted turned down that could have led to something remarkable. What lovely memories you’ll both have to share.

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