I have internet once again. I’m not entirely sure this is a good thing to be so connected when I’m at the cottage it defeats the concept of what “cottage” means to me, however it allows me to work from this beautiful place, so I guess it’s a good thing.
When I was a kid the cottage had no mod-cons. There was a fridge and stove in the kitchen, no dishwasher, we had a bare necessities bathroom, no shower, there was the lake to take a bath in, the walls didn’t go to the ceiling, they were 3/4 walls, and a big wood burning stove that kept us warm on the really cold nights.
I always remember hearing my mom around 5am in the morning waking my dad up “Gerry, Gerry!”, “hummmm?”, “the fire has gone out”. My dad would get out of bed and hurry out to the big stove. I still remember the creak of the door as he opened it, the sound of the paper crumpling and the wood being jammed in just before the strike of the match lit the whole thing up, to make our little cottage warm again. Some mornings I would creep out of my bed to “help”, one of the reasons today that I can light a fire is because of these mornings watching him.
I compare my little blue cottage to the one I grew up with, my little place is a really a “house”. The walls go to the ceiling, there is a dishwasher in the kitchen, washing machine in the utilities closet (no drier though, it’s in the shed, I like putting my clothes on the line), and a big shower in the bathroom. For heat I have portable heaters, one even looks like a real fireplace. I also have a stereo, which I remember was a big deal when we’d take ours to the cottage (mine here is the cottage system). I did draw the line at having a TV here, of course, I just download programs and play them on my computer and I have tons of movies here for rainy days.
I haven’t been feeling great for the past few days, the stress of moving and the fact there’s something going around at the school finally caught up with me. I’ve spent most of the past two days in silence not even wanting my iPod on. Last night I sat on the front deck, the sun had come out for awhile and I had decided to get my butt back outside for some fresh air.
Because of the full moon, the tide was way out and there is a lot of beach exposed. I sat and watched the herons fly in and out for dinner. I love when they fly, their huge wing span, must be 6 feet or more, grey, and very graceful for such large birds, they skim the water about a foot and a half above the waves. The eagles, not to be left out, were circling lazily, high up and way out in the bay, in the thermals. The seagulls and crows were not to be seen, taking a break from all their playing I guess, the kingfishers also had called it a day so it was very quiet. You could hear the whoosh of the wings of the birds as they flew by. At one point, something startled a little flock of ducks that were bouncing on the tide, and they took off in a flap of wings, such a cool sound. You could hear the wind hitting the wings and the tips of them hitting the water as they launched themselves into the air, escaping what? I have no idea but they seemed in a hurry.
I put my shoes on and clambered down to the beach (next weekend I put my ladder in) I didn’t want to go for a long walk just a putter. It’s always so amazing when the tide is this far out the things you see. I walked by crab on his back, strange he seemed all in one piece, why would the birds leave him in one piece? I nudged him gently and his claws moved he was alive and waiting for the tide to come in so he could flip over, precarious position to be in if the birds realized he was there, so I flipped him over. Red Crab. Two feet away was a “Green Meanie” in a shallow hole, uncovered, but breathing bubbles, alive as well. There were lots of sand dollars buried, hiding out, I’ve learned that if they are “black” they are still alive and NOT to pick them up. There must have been 20 or more herons on the beach hunting, they have ears like bats and fly at the 1st sound but when you’re on the beach with them, they don’t move as fast and you can get fairly close.
It’s about 5am, I couldn’t sleep and woke up to a very chilly cottage, of course all I have to do is turn a dial to heat it up. It’s very foggy out side, I can hear a few birds starting to call out I can’t see the light house, which really defeats the purpose of having one. I can’t even see over the bank to the water, which if I open the door I can hear. Mornings like this can make you feel like you’re the only person alive, until you hear the drone of the boats as the mussel and lobster guys head out to collect their catch. Sigh, back to the real world later today, catching the 430 ferry in to town. I’ll be glad when friday gets here and I come home to my little world.
Dreaming Big from the East Coast,