With the construction of our new deck, we got off to a little later start this season, but we've tried our best to make up for lost time. Weekends are the pot of gold at the end of the workweek rainbow and I cherish each and every moment I get to spend at our place of peace.
The best part of cottage life - for me - is watching a carload of loved ones come rolling down our lane way, and sharing our piece of paradise with them. I want them to see the beauty for themselves; to inhale the clean, fresh air; to awaken to the songs of birds; and to feel the tranquility that seeps into your very being.
After two years of anticipation, my sisters and I snagged a few days at the lake. Devoid of any roles, responsibilities and background noise, we found the family dynamic that we grew up with and revert back to the girls that we once were. We swam; we laughed uncontrollably; reminisced; put the fire bug to work and relaxed around a blazing fire that threatened to take the cottage with it!
After a few good meals and glasses of wine, and countless stories that started with "remember when", the creases on our faces relaxed and tensions drained away. Over melting ice cream and berries we vowed to make it an annual tradition.
Last weekend my dad, Theresa and 95 year old Doris made the trip up to the cottage. My dad had lovingly built a pair of beds for our spare room and he was making the delivery! He was sweating buckets as he put them together, drilling each screw nail. When he was finished, we all crowded into the tiny room to admire his handiwork. The single beds are sixteen inches high to accommodate our storage bins and we left off the foot board so extra tall people can dangle their feet over the end and not get tangled up. The beds are just another fingerprint that my dad has left on the cottage - yet another happy reminder of his caring and thoughtful nature - of the man who is a builder.
I still have to pinch myself to believe that this precious dream that I share with hubby is a reality. And for that, I am truly grateful.
|Finished product. Thanks Dad!|