A Cottage Summer

Sweet Peace!

Our cat jazmin, walking our dog Abby!

Our cottage at Ghost Lake has been a place of construction, exploration and experimentation this summer.

The boys—the skaters among them—built ramps and rails where they could ride and grind. Yohannes hung around, watching, learning, attempting and mastering, and then awaiting discarded parts and building a board of his own (and spray painting it in our backyard!)  They have been heard this summer in conversations like this:

Hey Alec, you wanna ride?

Yeah, I’m totally stoked.

You got a new deck?

Yup.

It’s insane!

Whoa! Cody that was so sick!

Thanks man.

That was clean.

Naw…a bit sketchy.

Construction and deconstruction is the name of the game for our boys. I came home from a day in town to find the cottage smelling like burning glue. Think what you may, it was nothing you could ever fathom. Besides the smell, which was a bit like Tupperware lids slow-cooking over a gas burner, the evidence was as follows: a lighter, a roll of duct tape, a wax candle melted all over the table, a steak knife, a roll of paper towel, and a canister of spray paint. I painstakingly pieced together the following story:

1) Cody (a 14-year-old friend) had a hole in the bottom of his shoe. He wasn’t particularly attached to the shoe; it was just that he had it in his mind to fix it—at our place (while I was away). 

Yohannes was either his assistant, or the mastermind—I can’t figure out which.

2) They searched our basement for supplies, and brought up Gorilla glue duct tape, and the spray paint, as well as a whole myriad of tools.

3) Cody thought he would use the tape to fix his shoe.

4) Yohannes thought that if they lit the duct tape on fire, it would stick better to Cody’s shoe. 

That is what they did!

And they were damn proud of the job they did!

For my part, once I came down from the “glue-high”, I stared at Yohannes for a long time, a really long time—I was trying to see inside of his brain. And then I reminded him of our house rule around the use of “fire” when there isn’t an adult present. I told him that fire was dangerous, that it could burn down our whole house. He said, "Yeah, but it didn't." Aggravated, I said, "BUT it could have!" He stormed into the bathroom, yelling things at me that I did my best NOT to hear… la la la la la.

Eventually, I called him back. I talked a bit about trust, and a mother's worry--things he couldn't really fathom. He stared, quietly (probably trying to see into my brain!)  Finally, I congratulated him for working out a way to fix Cody’s shoe. He ran, like a dog to a toy, and grabbed the shoe to show me. He was so pleased. And so was I.

God forbid that Cody would have to ride his board with a hole in his sole!

The girls at the start of summer spent (painful) hours experimenting with hair and make-up artistry, in the centre of our kitchen, or hovering like dragonflies in front of the bathroom mirror.  By summers’ end, the make-up was lost, and they sported sun-bleached, tangled hair, tanned bodies and carefree attitudes.

Teens and tweens not old enough to drive have learned to ride motor-scooters and drive “golf-carts”, barefoot, without helmets, and with wild abandon. They drive around and pick up friends—shoving more bodies on than there are seats for—test-driving a life they will ease into in the coming years. Our kids, not the lucky ones’ with orange, red or white golf-carts to drive, have shunned us as inadequate parents for not supplying the bare essentials of tweenage cottage life!

Our “collective” children here are growing up—bodies changing, blossoming, filling out—now garnering looks from the opposite sex. It is amazing how much they change in the “off season”. They have been friends in summers past—but are clearly twitterpated this year—still friends. But now, they are experimenting with chemistry (if not biology), just beyond our gaze.

Such keeners, studying during the holidays!

Our cat, Jazmin has been out exploring the countryside—mostly at night. She has perhaps contributed more to the family than any other member—besides (of course) Ward. Her exceptional hunting skills have meant that every morning we awaken to fresh meat! It has been a Cottage Club mouseacre! She alone has been responsible for wiping out the mouse population on the entire north side!

ON my Yoga Mat!!

For me, a cottage summer has allowed an opportunity to explore the word on the page, exercise in a variety of ways: hiking, biking, in-line skating, and walking, and pursue my new hobby of drinking fine wine.

Hiking at Heart Creek: Faven, Laurèn, Yohannes, Aiden, Wendy, Abby, and Kristin.

Ward has been a part-time member of our cottage summer—I think staying in the city (alone) is part work, but also part holiday! Toward's the end of August,  we sat together on the front deck of our cottage as resident hummingbirds choreographed a magnificent dance for us. They have been particularly pleased with the wild orchids growing in our flower garden, and I have seen one bird fairly regularly. Ward had never seen it, and on this day, there were four hummingbirds flitting between flowers and feeder, and quite literally hovering--to check us out. 

There was definitely something else going on because at one point, we stood mesmerized by the deck rail as one bird approached another bird, who was getting quite friendly with a third bird; he spread his tail feathers in a fan, and chased the suitor away. It was pure magic. That turned out to be their last day here, as they fattened up and started their seasonal trip to Mexico.

None of us were willing to pause summer and prepare for the coming of September. And yet, it came, with force (and SNOW!) September used to be my favorite month—the crisp air of morning, the sweet gift of warm afternoon sun, the changing color of nature. But now, it is chaos and change: a change that I am somehow never ready for. 

Someday it will be returned to favorite. But, not this year.