Exposure and Closure

It takes on an unwelcoming cloak in the gray drear of the October cold. This beloved cottage of ours is a summer paradise; a slice of heavenly nature. But with nothing but uninsulated plywood flooring between my woollies and the great outdoors, the chill in the air is unrelenting.

Hubby and I went north to close up the cottage and ready it for winter hibernation. It just so happened that we picked probably the most inhospitable day possible for the task. It was 6 degrees Celsius with wind warnings and worst of all - it poured rain the entire time.

My electric heaters raised the temp a few more degrees to 12 so I couldn't see my breath (thankfully) but the toilet seat felt as though it was a block of ice. Hubby had it far worse pulling water lines out of the lake, lugging the dock furniture up the steep incline to store under the cottage and disengaging the floating docks in preparation for the ice and snow that is sure to follow in the months coming. He was drenched to the skin and the love affair I was having with my rubber boots came to an abrupt end when they cracked and flooded with lake water.

It was so miserable that it was comical and hubby and I giggled uncontrollably as I attempted to lift my corner of the waterlogged dock. I was more of a hindrance in my clumsy as I struggled to keep my balance in my unfashionable but beloved boots on the slippery rocks. Hubby ruled with his Herculean display of strength and endurance and I saluted him on bended knee as I tried to get up from my latest slip.

The beds were stripped and wrapped in plastic; the fridge emptied; the water lines drained; the deck furniture and canoe stored safely under the cottage and the electricity shut off for the winter. Everything packed up with another year's of precious memories from a summer loved at the cottage.

It was bittersweet pulling away; the half naked woods left the cottage looking forlorn and exposed and me with a feeling of sadness in my heart. But the yearning for a hot shower to warm my aching chilled limbs made it a little easier to leave and tune my channel to gratitude for the gifts that have been bestowed. For all that and more, I am supremely grateful.

The mountain of cottage laundry!