To quote my favourite 5-year-old, “this is so amazing”
The husband and I fulfilled a dream and bought our own cottage in the fall. It’s a well-built, if recently neglected, 3-bedroom plus bunkie on Georgian Bay. We took possession in the fall; since then we’ve spent a single night here on two different occasions but this weekend is the first time I feel like it’s becoming our own.
The fam is enjoying a lounge on the bunkie deck, basking in the warm sun that is hinting at what the summer will offer us, while over to my right there is still bits of snow in the shade of the trees. I have to agree that this is so amazing.
Before you think that today has been nothing but leisure, the truth is I spent hours cleaning mold and mildew from various surfaces affected by a leaky roof, while the husband worked with a contractor to get our water running (straight from the lake!). Our morning was spent running errands in town (like buying a new water filtration system).
There is still much to do, such as replacing the carpet in one of the bathrooms, fixing the dock and the boathouse, and replacing the old furniture that came with the cottage. But (and this is a big one) I feel so blessed as I sit here in the sun on the edge of Georgian Bay with my 3 guys. This life really is amazing.
I ran a 5K this morning, along with 7,999 other people, in the Toronto Waterfront Marathon extravaganza. For those of you who know me well, running is a new part of my life – I’ve always enjoyed working out, and trying to stay relatively fit (that includes eating donuts and chips, right?), but it’s only in the past several months that I’ve felt strong enough to be able to run any amount of distance.
It was a bit of daunting task – the race started at the other end of the city at 8am, which meant being out of the house before I’m usually even out of bed in the morning (6:45am. yikes). With all the excitement, I barely slept (fear of sleeping too late I guess), and my stomach was unsettled. I had to gobble down a toasted freezer waffle and a yogurt when my stomach wanted nothing to do with either of them.
I ran with a friend. It was hard – running along the roads downtown, many with a bit of an incline. No pretty scenery to look at, only a handful of spectators cheering us on. It felt great, though. We barely stopped (once to get a sip of water, once to fix my shoe) and I even had the energy to sprint the last 100 metres. We finished in about 35 minutes, which is pretty awesome for two 30-something women new to the running circuit.
As some readers of my blog may have noticed, I’m been a bit quiet on the writing front for many months, but I’ve recently started up again. One of my posts grabbed the attention of another WordPress blogger – http://wildlifewatcher.wordpress.com/ – and something in what (or how) I write must have tickled this blogger, because I’ve now been awarded the Liebster Award. I’m honoured that someone other than my friends and family members have enjoyed my posts. Thank you very much!
Wildlifewatcher (as you may have guessed) writes about the wildlife he/she spies around his/her home, and also posts some lovely photos. If that sorta thing tickles your fancy, I recommend checking it out.
Now, the big question: What is the Liebster Award, and when will I be getting my gold statue in the mail?
The Answer: This is an award given blogger-to-blogger, for blogs with around 300 (or fewer) followers. I will NOT be receiving anything shiny in the mail as a result, but I DO have the satisfaction that someone, somewhere, thinks that what I have written is deserving of notice. I’m touched. (sniff).
I am wearing the same jeans I wore the other day when we were at the park. I noticed something in my back pocket.
I’m pretty sure I didn’t collect and save these, so here is the question: who put these in my pocket? Also, (perhaps more important) how did I not notice?
…just realized that I totally should have tried to work in a cleverly veiled Gollum/Bilbo reference. That would have good. Really, I would love to find an invisibility ring in my pocket – would totally come in handy on those days when I just want to sit quietly and read my book. for now, I just have a mini handful of pebbles. Perhaps I should investigate alchemy. It’s not difficult to learn, right?
I’m taking a few moments to sit and be still in my living room. It definitely feels like a stolen moment. I’ve just finished vaccuuming a few minutes ago and as I wrapped up the power cord, I heard a call from upstairs to “stay downstairs”. Luckily, neither of my guys are overly devious, so I have no cause for concern. They simply want to keep playing whatever game they’ve created without parental involvement. All I can hear is the sound of running up and down the hallway and various battle sounds.
They play so nicely together now. Something fantastic happened over the summer – they each discovered that they actually enjoy playing together; they’ve become friends. It’s what I hoped for from the moment I found out I was pregnant with Nathan. I really hope it sticks with them as they grow together.
Listening to them play and giggle together is one of the greatest sounds in the world. Now I’ve gotta go: I’ve been told it’s craft time.
Yesterday afternoon after dropping off Brendan at his first day of Senior Kindergarten, I noticed something amiss in my back garden: where there was once a beautiful sunflower there now stood a broken stalk. Here it is:
I wish that I had taken a picture of it before it was vandalized by the local street bandits (you may know them as raccoons). There is a gang of them who hang around our yard at night, and I think they are retaliating against Trevor’s nightly assaults against them. You see, whenever he hears them or sees them in our yard, he shoots them with the “jet” stream from our hose. Perhaps they’ve had enough and decided to fight back. Either way, now that back patch looks even more sad than before, now that I’ve cut down the tomato plants (and have neglected to weed. What?)
For the past 20 years, the end of summer has brought sadness, not only for the loss of beautiful sunny days, long nights and outdoor parties around the BBQ. It also marks the anniversary of when I lost my father. The date usually sneaks up on me, and when it does it brings me back to the last few days of August 1993. Yesterday I saw the date on my phone and the numbers innocently displayed on the screen punched me in the gut. Just like they do every year.
Now that my days are filled with the needs of two little people, I don’t have the time to look at the calendar, and I think it’s a good thing. This morning while I drank my coffee outside for a few minutes of peace, I remembered again and I had a few moments to let the tears come to my eyes, but then I remembered that while I’ll always feel like a lost 18-year-old when I think of the moment that I lost my dad- I am transported back with every detail and emotion – there are other current issues that I need to be present for.
A perfect example: Nathan just needed me to help put “his” chair back at his place at the table. He’d put a sticker at the back of it months ago to know which one was his. Somehow it had been moved to another spot at the table. Also, he needed a box of raisins.
I had much more that I had in mind to write – some other fun stuff about what we did this summer, and the fact that Brendan is starting SK in French Immersion on Tuesday, and that Nathan is going to start going to nursery school a few days a week, but I have more pressing business.
Brendan needs me to play knights with him (and possibly also pirates). I must go.