The Red Cottage

Hilary and Derek invited us to stay at her parents' cottage for the long weekend.  After a not-particularly-gruelling drive out of the city, we were in cottage country: slow-paced strolling; used book sales; mullet-wearing middle-aged folk donning wolf-smattered t-shirts.  Love.  

There was a lot of soul-searching up in the clean air, the cool water, the gravelly roads.  There were big conversations that changed my perspective and surprising visits from people who shed some light on subjects and projects that made us both shocked and introspective.  Maybe that's what the "northern" air (Leanne hates it when I call this part of Ontario "northern") does to people: it makes us our most authentic selves.  Maybe it's all part of relaxing: we think and say things that are normally cooped up in our Very City Selves. 

Hilary was kind enough to join me for a run one afternoon.  I say "kind" because we had to get on a boat and head to the mainland to avoid the hilly, tree-laden terrain where the cottage is situated.  So off in the motor boat we went, ran, talked about image and health and friendships, and got back to the boat just as it started to rain.  Spit, more like. 

Hilary, being a true Algonquin-ite, and I being a true "tent?  You want me to sleep in a tent?"-ite, made the decision to boat or not to boat: she opted to boat.  This might have been a bolder-than-safe choice.  The rain got heavier the closer we got to the lake's centre.  Then the hail started.  Hail.  We embraced the journey...what else could we do?...as Hilary braved the steering apparatus of the motor.  

We were soaked in the truest sense of the word: our clothes were literally clinging to our bodies, water dripping from the tip of our heads to our shoes.  It was absolutely amazing.    

Here's the view the bebes saw all weekend from the deck...

 The place was just gorgeous.  Though I didn't catch a sunrise, the sunset turned the sky the most glorious peachy colour, which eventually eased into red.  Only here, folks.  Only here.

How we eats...

...and how we drinks...

And each morning, when I awoke, this was the face I saw.  Yee.  Sure, he doesn't look so daunting in the light of day, but falling asleep to his piercing eyes was more than sobering.

For the hospitality, for the company, for the enlightenment, I am truly grateful.