Soggy Start

Even those of you who don't live in (or near) Ottawa have likely heard that there's been a significant amount of flooding in the city this year.

I am pleased to report that we are not affected. It's been a miserable spring, to be sure, but if I didn't see images of the floods on the news and social media, I wouldn't know it was going on.

At the cottage, however...

We've been there for four straight weekends now, I believe. I believe it was two weeks ago that I made a very simple pasta supper and we ate outside under a setting sun with the temperature in the high teens/early 20s. We couldn't decide whether to eat inside or outside but Christine prophetically pointed out that it might quite a while until we got a chance again.

Last year, the water level was low throughout. So far this year, we were pleased with how high it was. But when we arrived this past Friday, we quickly saw that it had taken it up another notch.

All right, well, the old shed spot is...a little damp, but whatever. We actually had it worse one year when the shed was still up. I guess it happens.

But then it continued to rain. And water continued to flow into the lake. So the next day...

Ugh...So the stones from the first picture are now submerged and we moved the fire bowl because it seemed unlikely that it would be put into use (though I would be willing to accept that challenge).

We headed out to Perth for a part of the day. We needed to stop over at the animal hospital there for some pills for Ladybug (antibiotics, no big deal, we just forgot them at home), picked up some wood for baseboards at Home Hardware, a few groceries, doggy beds (which are essentially large chew toys for George) and a wicked good pair of slippers at Giant Tiger for me. We had a rainy evening inside by the fire and by Sunday morning...

Those of you who are there more regularly, take a look at top right of that shot. You can barely tell there's land past the fire pit. Unreal.

But...Aside from gardens, there is really no damage that comes to mind.  Some folks around the 'hood are going to visit some time soon and realize that their cottage spent a solid couple of weeks with water right up to the back door or Sun Room.

There's also nothing we can do but wait it out. It's pretty wild to think that right around the time Chantal and Joseph visited last year, I could stand on dry land at the bottom of the lake. Safe assumption that I won't be doing that this year.

Check out that rain forecast thought (third line from the bottom) for nearby Sharbot Lake.

Well...It is what it is. If we need to start gathering animals in pairs, at least we've got dogs covered (more or less).

Busted!

I see you, you little thief!

After a couple of weekends to ourselves, Rob and Deb came by this past Saturday, overnight. Since late April, Christine and I have been on skeeter-watch so that we could decide on a good weekend for them to visit.  We did pretty well; there were very few of those flying vampires throughout the day but once the sun went down, it was like some skeeter-leader called a meeting and they all showed up.  So we gave up on the awesome fire I'd started and headed upstairs.

While chatting in the living room, we heard a clatter outside.  From the Captain's Chair, I was only able to see a shadow climbing down one of the trees.  We grabbed one of the nearby flashlights and spotlighted the above critter.

My camera wouldn't have really worked in complete darkness, so I didn't even make the attempt (and as if often the case, I didn't have it handy, and had no real idea where it was) to get a picture at that point.  But our masked friend returned the following morning (at least I assume it was the same one) to clatter around some more.

It's 5AM.  Shouldn't we BOTH be sleeping? 

He (again, an assumption, and an arguably sexist one) tips the bird-feeder forward than scrambles down to enjoy the fruit (seed) of his labour.

Rather handsome lad, eh?

And a good reminder that if you feel like stepping out after dark, go right ahead, but maybe flood the deck with the bright halogen light we have up there (its switch is at the right of the entrance into the sun room) to make sure that you're not about to startle a raccoon, lynx, moose or camel, whatever. You never know.

Shortly following Rob and Deb's Sunday departure, we prepared to enjoy the remaining morning sun (it was about to cloud over pretty convincingly) and got another unusual surprise.  Check out the water here.

See that yellowish trail?  It appears to be pollen, and remembering several nasty battles with allergies, I was content to remain on the upper deck. Swimming in it seemed like a bad idea.

I believe something similar took place last year as well, briefly, and on a smaller scale.  Christine and I are heading out this weekend again and spending an extra day there to celebrate our 17th anniversary (17th?? What??).  I guess we'll see what things look like when we get there.

We have plans for the early part of our visit anyway.  On Friday, we're going to work on the garden where Scooter (I just decided that's my raccoon's name, for no reason I can pinpoint) was messing around, as well as the area where the row boat is turned over. It'll be good to see that little (big) project move forward a little.  We might be in line for a third straight good weather weekend and in light of how rare that is, you can imagine that we're looking forward to it a great deal.

Kayaking Crow Lake.

The whole damn thing.  It was planned for the last week of July, when Chris and I are both off and plan to be at the cottage most of the time.

Here's a map that will probably be of little use to you.

See the little yellow dot at the top?  We're a little to the right of that.  So I'm aiming to follow the coast until, well, I get back to my starting point.

Just something I want to do.  You know, the "because it's there" feeling.  Same reason I climbed the CN Tower years ago.  Just seemed like a neat physical challenge (confession: It's easier than it sounds).  Plus it's motivation to stay in some sort of shape, other than pear-shaped.

Quick aside about the CN Tower climb; you'd be shocked at how often, when I told people I was climbing the CN Tower, I'd be asked "From inside?".  Of course from inside, for Christ's sake.  I'm not friggin' Spider-Man!

Anyway...

Following my junk-shrinking (hey, that's not permanent, is it?) dive from earlier that morning, I got in my kayak for a shortened version of my planned trek.  It was an opportunity to learn from several mistakes.

I went past Gull Rock (remember that from an earlier post?  Anal probes!) to an island called Bertrim...Island.  Lovely place, with ridiculously clear water near the shore.  Blow this picture up.

Here's what I did wrong, and will fix.

1) I didn't wear my bad ass Mechanix gloves because I'd left them at home.  I blistered at the thumb webbing on both hands.  Insert frog joke here.  I'm not doing this unless the gloves are available.

2) I wore my bathing suit.  What blows about that is that you only burn in the inside of your legs.  Hurts like hell.  Long pants on the big trip.  I wonder if I'd look good in that Lululemon stuff?

Owie-owie-owie!

3) You take on water from the drips off your paddle.  But get this math: the further you go, the more water you take on.  I'm bringing a small towel or something so that I can wring some of it out.

4) A lunch wouldn't kill me.  A tofurkey sandwich, on dill mustard, would be lovely, perhaps with a refreshing iced tea...

5) Leave early.  I left for this trial run at around 10:20 but was still on the water at high noon.  By then, it was hotter than bacon fat out there.  At some point, I think vultures were circling, just waiting for me to die. Jerks.  Besides, the water tends to be calmer earlier, therefore easier to navigate.  I like those nautical terms.

That's about it. 

Bertrim Island is further than it looks, and I managed it OK, but that also underscored just how long my little excursion actually is.  So maybe our week off at the end of August is a better target time.  Whatever.  Sooner or later, I'm doin' it.

Morning Glory

Our last couple of visits to the Sharbot Lake Farmers' Market resulted in gut-wrenching, soul-withering heartbreak.  By the time we arrived, the cinnamon buns were sold out.  Gone!  #CottageProblems.

Now we all know that a small town Farmers Market is a dog-eat-dog environment. You can't let your guard down for a moment or you'll end up getting punked by some old hippie who's all "peace and love, man" until it's you, him and the last cinnamon bun on the table.  All of sudden, it's survival of the fittest.  Peace and love are tossed right out the smoke-filled Volkswagon van window.  Pave paradise, put up a boxing ring.

It was determined by not me that we would be out a little earlier this Saturday in order to beat the bun rush and avoid once again having our spirits shattered.  I was reminded of my days as a stock boy clerk at K-Mart.  We'd have a $2 off sale on laundry detergent or some such.  You'd unlock the doors as the store opened then have to run for your life to avoid getting caught in the ensuing stampede.  It was like the running of the bulls, except the bulls all wore track pants and smelled like cigarette smoke and hair spray.

But I digress...

Awokened (what?  No way that's right...) at roughly 6AM by a daschund licking my back (or at least I assume it was Oscar, otherwise things got a little weird for a moment there...), I crawled out of bed, threw my bathing suit on, and jumped in the lake.

My pre-dive view

Whoo!!  That's a jolt!

That's one of those things that you think might be cool to do "one day" (well, some people think that...) but when dozing under the covers in your comfy bed, you're not exactly bristling with motivation to dive into a misty lake.  But dang it, the water's finally a decent temperature, a mere 10 months after we bought the place, so off I went.

My mum told me that this is something that, of all people, Steven Tyler of Aerosmith does regularly.  From a cottage (or small home, whatever) in one of the Carolinas, the first thing he does in the morning is dive into the lake.  And look at how well he's aged!

Right...That may not be the best example.  There may be other factors at play there.  But I will admit that it is an invigorating way to start the day.  Maybe not EVERY day but once in a while...

Close call

About a month ago, Christine and I were talking about this little blog.

I was explaining that, back when I started it, I thought that eventually I would run out of things to talk about. At some point, visits would become routine and the place would be renovated and redecorated to our liking and that would be that.

But then, it always seems like a little something happens that we feel like sharing.  We go into every weekend expecting nothing but to enjoy the place, but the next thing you know...we see Elvis or something.

Or we have an oil spill.

We showed up on the afternoon of our anniversary to find a notice on our door.  Due to an oil spill two days earlier, lake water was not to be used for basically anything but flushing toilets. We had noticed significant damage to a few properties just down the hill, but couldn't tell what had caused it.  In fact, we didn't know any of the details until we got home and my dad had sent us this article.

A little scary to hear, but eventually we realised that the only thing we use the lake water for is washing dishes and we could still do that with the water that we haul in from Ottawa.  The lake was still a little cold to swim in at that point so nothing lost on that level.  Another encouraging sign was that it didn't seem to be bothering the wild life.

Christine went back a week later and was greeted by another notice in the door, but this time to tell us that the advisory was off and normal water usage could resume.  So all told, it lasted a week.  It did seem, based on our walk over to the public area, like the situation was being well managed so the lift didn't come as much of a surprise.

Why only bring this up now?  Well, it didn't seem very appropriate to stress over a 90L oil spill in light of the situation in Calgary at the time.

So we've been back to our usual shenanigans, including this past Canada Day weekend.  And the water is now finally warm enough to swim in.

Easter Weekend 2013

You know what guys just LOVE?  Shopping for carpets!  Am I right, boys??

The only thing less pleasant than shopping for rugs for the floors would be shopping for one for the top of my head.  I dodged a bullet where the dining room is concerned though.  Christine went to Lowe's, happened to see one she loved, and bought it.  Badabing!  In a similar situation a few weeks ago, she held off until I got to see said rug and what do you know, by the time we made our way to that store again, it was gone (The rug, that is.  The store was still there).  Disappointment and profanity ensued.

So we brought her up.  Here she is:

Still needs to settle down a bit as, apparently, do the squirrel and bunny stuffies on the table.  I know it's spring, but let's keep this thing PG a'right?  But the rug itself is pretty cottage-appropriate.

That couch has seen better days, and it will soon see even worse ones because it's dump-bound in the next couple of weeks.  At least that's the plan; damn thing weighs more than a station wagon. I wish Nanny was here to help; she did a splendid job hauling in the floating dock last fall.

In other heart-stopping news, the shower curtain project is progressing along nicely.

Fish!

In truth, the only reason the curtain isn't actually up is because we know we'll have the plumber in to get the water flowing again soon(ish), so we're keeping the area clear(ish).  So far all intents and purposes, that's done.

And while the going is slow, we ARE getting there.  Here's the beach (we own a beach!) these days:

Still pretty solid, but I don't know that I'd have the stones to do this:

We did notice that we never saw them return...Maybe we should have acted on that...But you know, we wanted to go have dinner in Westport...I'd run out of that yummy dill mustard and wanted to buy another jar, so...