Thursday, August 17, 2023


Classic Zen Buddhism says that "by carrying water and chopping wood, you will find the Tao" which is what I experience here in northern Ontario. This cottage of ours, located at the outer edge of the 30,000 islands of Georgian Bay which itself is an enormous body of water on Lake Huron, takes life back to basics.

In our secluded bay, on our little island, surrounded by water and rocks and wind-bent pines, life is shaped by weather. Today we have a honking southerly wind which cancelled our planned kayaking, last week it was horizontal rain and a tremendous thunderstorm. In between have been idyllic days of sunshine and calm. The propane fridge, stove, lights and hot water heater have kept things going here for years, along with a generator, but last year we put in solar. We feel as though we've gone forward a century, but is this a good thing?

We still eat by the light of a candle chandelier, though, and light the two silver candelabras when we want to play cards. On moonless nights it is truly dark, and when clear, the stars, the Milky Way, the occasional planets are magnificent. I feel nervous in a way that makes me feel alive. Perhaps it's clarity rather than apprehension.

View from the main cabin

This is a return to a place that I know well yet again I arrive with a new sense of self-awareness, a shifted mindset and a forward-looking curiosity. Just as in London, the change is marked. The what ifs and the if onlys no longer crop up to needle me with their distorted views of the past. 

I am, by nature, independent. I enjoy solitude, and solitary projects. Each morning, I climb out of bed and, still warm from being under the covers, throw myself into the lake. It's a fantastic awakening; hot water is so overrated. Then I often kayak out into the open and around the many islands of varying sizes. It's lovely in the quiet of early day. 

I bookend my day with another skinny dip, watching the stars above, floating in a calm way, hoping the beaver that lives in the boathouse doesn't inadvertently bump into me. In between these dips, I read books, write, prepare meals and even socialise occasionally. I'm just back from a kayaking lunch which would normally entail meeting up with a group of women and paddling out to picnic on one of the large, unpopulated rocks but today we stayed at a cottage because it was too windy to be in a kayak. 

The older I get, the more I appreciate the humour, experience and wisdom of the women I meet. If we could run the world for ten years. Just ten years. I'm sure we could straighten up some of the challenges facing us today. Then we'd open it up again. Promise!


Last weekend, seventeen members of my family gathered at Richard's cottage (the cottage where I went as a child) to celebrate my mum's 90th birthday, and I saw again how blood runs thicker than water. We all slotted in without a hiccup - siblings, children, cousins, wives, fiancĂ©es and lovers - and the teasing was epic. Hats off to my sister-in-law who manages to not only come up with bedding and beds for fifteen but also popped up an old bell-style tent which she decorated with pillows and blankets, books and lanterns for my eldest daughter (her goddaughter) and her beau. She's an Italian romantic at heart.

My mum is amazing but because she's my mother, I tend to take her for granted. So all her strengths and capabilities just wash over me. Before the birthday weekend, she told me she'd "knocked up" a sour cream coffee cake, some brownies and an assortment of blueberry tarts with crumble topping, after preparing some pickled mushrooms and a leek, mushroom and spinach strata for the brunch following the party. This was after we told her she didn't need to be involved in the menu.

The tapas-style meal included Lebanese fattoush to Moo Ping skewers, Thai corn fritters to Korean-style pork lettuce wraps as well as chicken wings, devilled eggs (because they're so good), a 5-foot long charcuterie board and my humble offering of a mango, cauliflower and chickpea salad.
Oh, and lots of wine.

But more than an appetite for good food, my mum is ferociously loyal to family, a keen follower of tennis and has an intelligence that requires regular feeding. She devours a variety of books, has a fabulous memory for all things past (more details about my cousin's visit in 2008 than my cousin can recall), and has a deep knowledge of, to name a few, the Group of Seven, Roman history, silver hallmarks, geographical details from the large number of places she has visited, and religious information left over from a life that began with schooling at a convent in England.

She's an inspiration, really, and I can only hope that I am as nimble both intellectually and physically when I reach my ninth decade. Have I mentioned that we're going to Australia for a month at Christmas? One of the Airbnb hosts, learning of my mum's age, was concerned about the steps to the front door. I was able to reply in all honestly that I'd just been swimming in a lake with her, but left out information about the lack of clothing. As per usual.

At the end of the dinner, we had a pub quiz. I was the quiz master, and thoroughly enjoyed baffling people. The birthday girl's team won, and in spite of the complaints of unfair questions such as what a dog can't smell (they can smell everything) or whether hot or cold water freezes faster (turns out that the hot water theory I'd learned was incorrect according to my nephew who works on the Canadian space arm - so he'd know), the Baby Blues won fair and square.

From tomorrow I'm on my own for a five days up here. I may go a bit feral so that's why I thought it best to get this post out today. 

1 comment:

  1. Love reading about your special cottage in the woods. If you’ve grown up going to a place every year of your life, those memories and that place only become more precious as time
    marches on.

    ReplyDelete