Mastering the Art of Relaxation

The forecast called for thunderstorms last night and today. Not a drop of rain fell; in fact, quite the contrary - the weather was absolutely perfect. This week spent at the cottage has truly been a gift (a huge contrast to the rainy, cold week we spent here last September). The days have been lazy (for me – not as much for hubby who spent a few days in plumbing/repair hell), with many hours spent gazing up at fluffy clouds until they resemble the profile of an old man, or the African continent.

I had almost forgotten the art of daydreaming. I can remember as a child spending endless hours on my back in the grass with my sisters or cousins just staring up at the sky. We were content in the silence which would only be broken when someone spotted “something” in the clouds. Our imaginations were finely tuned and sparked with boundless possibilities. We built stories around the imagery … and in between, we closed our eyes to feel the summer breezes flutter on our eyelids and the sun warm our faces.

That was me on the dock today. I laid back, breathing deeply, aware of every breath and gazed upwards. When the notion took me, I closed my eyes to really hear everything around me: the falcon’s babies shrilled from their nest; the chipmunks clucked and broke branches as they scampered through the forest and the motor of a boat whined in the distance. My senses were heightened and my mind was clear.

I suppose that is what it means to truly relax, to be in the moment. It is an act of loosening, letting go and letting in. I think this vacation stuff is working its magic. I am immersed in nature and bliss – and for that I am truly grateful.

The Lake

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Life at the Lake

There's nothing like an evening swim in the lake to wash off the grime of the day. No fancy body washes needed; a quick lather with my organic shampoo and a swim to the island to rinse and I am all set. My skin is soft with a lingering outdoors scent of the lake.

Life is simple here at the lake. Quiet and still - save the rustling of the leaves overhead, the pecking of the nuthatches and the song of the chickadees. The water laps against the dock and the canoe bobs alongside. A dog barks in the distance and soon the calls of the loon will serenade us to sleep.

Life at the lake is simple and good. And we still have five days of vacation left.

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Proof of Life

Yesterday was the hottest day in recorded history for our region. The temperature hit 40 degrees C, and with the humidex, it felt like almost 50 degrees. That's what I love about living in our climate; the polar extremes of HOT in the summer and FREEZING in the winter. I enjoy the variations and changes that come with the seasons, and because we have four of them, we are pretty much in a constant state of flux and transition.

That's alot like life. We are slowly transitioning from one season to another and along the way we encounter unexpected storms and events, and extreme highs and lows - joy and pain.  We weather through them and try our best to appreciate the gifts that each has to offer, racking up the experience garnered from the stormy times as accumulated wisdom, rendering us more "prepared" for the next time.

In the sweltering heat yesterday, but in the comfort of air conditioning, the fam gathered to celebrated my step mom's (henceforth to be known as Mama T) birthday. No one loves her birthday more than Mama T and gets downright giddy, bubbling over at the cake, candles, presents and photo ops with the family celebs. There are always lots of "oooo's" and "aaahhhh's", "THANK you's" and "love it's". It's a refreshing change from our societal omnipresent dread of aging and birthdays. You can choose to make birthdays a marker of how OLD you are or you can celebrate them as a marker -a gift - of yet ANOTHER year lived and enjoyed. Birthdays are milestones that someone, somewhere in the world will never reach. They are proof of life.

So last night amidst cupcakes (thanks Sis), turkey, homemade fries, ice cream cake, shrimp, chicken wings (thanks Pop), BBQ burgers (thanks Hubby) and a glass or three of wine, we came together as one, and celebrated. Cause every life deserves to be celebrated, and every season enjoyed.

Hot Water

Life is simple at the cottage; we have indoor plumbing but no hot water. It's not a huge problem -- I clean up in the lake and on occasion have been known to take quick, "refreshing" showers. But hubby bought a midget sized hot water heater to replace the defunct, rusted version that sits under the decking now. The only problem is that the job to hook up the new one is not straight forward and requires some tools that need to be mustered. It's comforting to know that someday, the water will  run hot and steamy.

Last weekend as hubby and I lounged lazily on the deck at the cottage after a morning of swimming and sunning (me) and clearing (him), we received a text from my daughter informing us that there was no hot water at home. We looked at one another trying to conceal our mutual panic. I jumped on the phone to confirm my suspicions and hubby starting closing up the windows ...

The hot water tank had flooded the basement. With three hours to home, our daughter held back the tidal wave with the shop vac and a tidy selection of towels while Kidlet rescued her hockey equipment from harm.

The little episode cut our weekend a little short but we were grateful that the damage was minimal. Lucky us. I won't tell you where we keep our horseshoe!

As I search for the gift and lesson in this little adversity, I can only conclude that it seems the universe is taking heroic measures to keep us out of hot water.

Squeaks, Squeals and Wine

Mouse, Marg, Jill and I. When we were 13 years old we used to eat our peanut butter cups and Delmonte puddings together every day. We stayed tight through high school and kept in touch as our lives took us all in different cities and in different directions.

Over the years the weave loosened but stayed intact; we saw each other less often and not all together. But we had our pipeline and the town we grew up in to keep us connected. In the past 12 years the only time the four of us were together in one place was at the funerals of our mothers. All four of us lost a parent within a two year period. Sadly Mouse's hubby passed from cancer six months ago, and once again we congregated. We decided that very day to meet in the summer on happier grounds to enjoy one another.

The happier grounds was our cottage. We finagled our work schedules, made child care arrangements, and cleared our calendars to make it happen. We did, and it did not disappoint.

The worries about snakes and spiders was for naught HOWEVER my inherent dislike for mice was tested to the max! They seemed to pop out all over the darn place. We shrieked! We chased! We cornered and captured - and we split our guts laughing. And by the time I slipped my foot into my weathered TOMS to feel find a mouse sleeping in the toe, I was done - immune - depleted and over my phobia!

The girls and I spent a whole day dockside comparing spider veins where the heck did they come from?, reassuring one another that we'd come a long way, rehashing juicy stories from our teens years, comparing notes on raising daughters (we all have girls) and generally exhausting the goodness out of our absolutely perfect summer's day together. Marg said the weather was heaven sent and that our deceased loved ones ordered it so we could have some special time together. Lovely thought. 

All I know is that when I listen to Marg tell a funny story complete with full on imitations and hear her laugh as only she can, it is the voice of my teenaged friend I hear. When I look into the tiny face of my dear friend Mouse with her sparkling eyes and mischievous grin, I see the girl I spend my childhood with. And at the end of the night as Jill and I share parting thoughts of the day that trail off into slumber, we are roommates yet again. So much has changed but at the very core of it all, we haven't.

The refrigerator bulged, our bellies followed suit and after our festivities, the recycling bin was pretty much full. The time flew by too quickly but we cherished every second. We agreed to try our best to make it an annual tradition. I just hope we will be able to find stuff to talk about.  : )

Mouse and Marg wondering if dinner can be served dockside.

YUP!

Chillin Jill

Marg in training

Reflections

Tranquility in waiting

A Reunion to Remember

The weekend is coming early this week! I have the next few days off and am heading to the cottage to spend it with three very special gal pals. We have been friends since grade seven when we would congregate at the exact same table for lunch every day to unwrap tidy little packages of goodness, swap gossip and share laughs. Jill and I had already been friends for a few years when we moved to the big school for grades 7 and 8. We naturally attached ourselves to Marg and Mouse (she is tiny and nibbles her food) and together we were a fierce foursome.

Now after decades have passed, we remain friends; we have shared the thrills and chills of life; seen each other through marriages, divorces, mothering and buried loved ones. When we are together, it is as though time has frozen us into our 16 yr old selves. The teasing is relentless; the laughter overflowing and the comfort of being with people who have known you as a child - priceless.

I have been looking forward to this reunion for a long time and I just know it won't disappoint. I just have to make sure Mouse doesn't get a glimpse of the dock spiders (or any spiders for that matter) and that Marg doesn't learn about the poisonous snake that our lake is named after (she has a snake phobia). I just hope Jill doesn't take me out foraging for nuts and seeds in keeping with her Paleo diet and that the steaks will do.

I have been blessed with an abundance of love and companionship in this life. And for that, I am truly grateful. Now -- let the weekend begin!