dreaming

So I'm sitting at the dining room table in the boathouse, admiring the way the morning sun slants across the surface of the table. The sky is a brilliant blue, and the reflection of the sun off the lake is so bright that I can't look at it. Very blustery outside, the waves kicking up whitecaps as they hit the shore.

Behind me, birch logs crackle merrily in the fireplace, and a space heater hums nearby, struggling to heat up my corner of the cabin. I suppose I could take my laptop and sit in front of the fire, but then I know I'd get too warm and sleepy, and I actually do have work to do. Right now, it's cold enough where I'm sitting that I'm comfortable in fleece tights, a t-shirt, sweatershirt, fleece vest, wool socks. I love this time of year.





Larkin, Rick, Brittany, JBR, Ginny and their three dogs have left. Jeff and I are alone the rest of the today, Wednesday, and Thursday, then Parki and his friend Angela come up on Friday for the weekend.

Yesterday morning, Jeff's sister and her family went home. After they left, the rest of us did some cleaning up. I chopped some kindling, one of my favourite cottage chores. There's something immensely satisfying about thwacking a big axe into a piece of wood, chopping it into little pieces, and using it to make a wonderfully cozy fire.

Looks easy, but requires concentration. Jeff chopped the tip off one of his fingers while we were chopping kindling once. While we were waiting in the hospital treatment room, Jeff (who seemed remarkably perky for someone who had just lost a piece of himself) entertained me with grisly stories of friends he knew who had chopped parts of themselves off. I hadn't felt queasy until then.

After a lunch of soup and turkey sandwiches, JBR, Ginny, Jeff and I took the boat to the Joe Lake dam, then walked along the old railroad track to Brulé. Stunning fall colours; as I mentioned before, it's so rare that we're at the cottage for the peak of the colours.

The Algonquin Park fall colours are apparently popular in Japan; we saw many canoes full of Japanese tourists in the Portage Store bay on the weekend, heading out for a paddle around the lake. Unfortunately not many of them are familiar with paddling or canoes, making it a much more risky venture than any of them probably realize.

The reason: the water is VERY cold right now, so cold that if your canoe dumps and no one is around to pull you out, you stand a good chance of dying from hypothermia. Jeff and I get especially upset when we see little kids in these canoes.

Last year, Jeff went over to one Japanese family in a canoe, struggling against the winds, trying to get out of the bay, and told them to go back. You should go back, he told them, trying to make them understand. The water's very cold. You fall in, you die.

They must have understood the word "die", because they went back.





As much as I'd like to take the rest of the week off, I can't. I have two columns due next week, the Chatelaine article due the week after, my current novel to finish before I take off for OVFF at the end of the month, and my daily Market Watch publishing column. I also plan to send out a ton more queries as I continue to ramp up my nonfiction writing.

Can't really complain, though...how many people could work from the cottage? As long as I have Internet access and my laptop, I could do my writing pretty much anywhere. Jeff and I plan to spend a major chunk of time at the cottage next spring and summer to build a new sleeping cabin on the property, further up the hill.

Look like things are going to be pretty work-intensive (in terms of writing) for me over the next month or so. And it's all WRITING-related, which is probably the reason I'm looking forward to it instead of dreading it. This is such a contrast to how I felt about my work a couple years ago that I still can't believe how lucky I am sometimes.

I mean, here I am doing exactly what I've always wanted to do all my life. I spend my days WRITING. People PAY me for my writing (well, for my nonfiction writing, anyway...I eventually will sell my fiction! I will!!).

Sometimes I think this must be a dream. When am I going to wake up? But heck, I'll enjoy it while I can. :-)





Links/News:

One year ago, I was hanging out in Santa Cruz with Paul and Beckett and the twins.

Two years ago, I reminisced about childhood games.

Four years ago, I forgot Annie's pacifier while babysitting the kids and vowed NEVER TO DO SO AGAIN.

Five years ago, there was a man outside my window.

---

Today's Blatherpics:

	Fall colours.
	Willi and Shirley Powell, daughter Emma, son Spencer.
	JBR, Ginny and Jeff on our walk.
	Me in the motor boat.

snow!

(written yesterday afternoon)

Today began depressingly drizzly and grey. Ordinarily I don't care, but I'm not looking forward to a Turkey Bowl in the rain. Unpleasant for the players, of course, but also for those of us on the sidelines. I hope secretly that the game is cancelled. It isn't.

I've been going to the Cottagers' Turkey Bowl for years now. Every Thanksgiving weekend Sunday, the cottagers from the north and the south ends of the lake battle it out in a game of touch football. It's a pretty casual game, with a wide mix of players, from little kids to guys who played semi-pro football. Girls only recently started participating, though they were never banned.





JBR is the referee, though also on a casual basis. Being deaf in one ear makes it more of a challenge, and he sometimes gets distracted from the game by a good conversation with the other onlookers.

This year was the first year that Jeff didn't play. Neither did Willi Powell. "I've done my twenty years," Willi says, as he and Jeff nurse bottles of beer from the sidelines as they talk about computers and cottage life. Rick (Larkin's husband) decides to play, but is injured after one play, pulling a calf muscle. :-(





For most of us non-players, the Turkey Bowl is a strictly social event. From time to time, one of us will ask about the score, especially if we're getting cold or have turkeys cooking in the oven. Otherwise, we're catching up on gossip, admiring babies, getting reacquainted. People bring blankets, hot drinks, snacks, beer.

On warmer Turkey Bowls, a few straggler blackflies come out to keep us company. More often, it snows. This time, it hailed. Not a lot, but enough to make it to the unofficial Turkey Bowl history books, I'm sure.

A whistle blows. Woohoo, the game's over! We all pile into our motorboats and head back to the turkeys in our cottage ovens. The wind is much fiercer now, however, and the dark skies look threatening. After slowly chugging through the waves for a bit, we decide it's not safe to go all the way back with a fully loaded boat. Jeff, Brittany and I get off at the next point of land and wait for JBR to drop the others and head back. The wind is roaring through the trees, and we climb the hill to the shelter of an empty cottage at the top, huddle together on the porch.

Brittany finds it all very exciting as we watch other motorboats full of people struggle home in the wind. JBR soon arrives, and we get back to the cottage. The boathouse is full of mouthwatering cooking fragrances. Brittany and I decorate the cottage with red and orange leaves we gathered earlier in the day.

Dinner: turkey with stuffing, homemade cranberry sauce, roasted vegetables. Dessert: homemade pumpkin pie with whipped cream, pumpkin cheesecake that Larkin and Brittany baked the day before.





Links/News:

One year ago, people did Guest Blatherings from Paul's and Beckett's house.

Two years ago, I gave Pearson Airport Escape Tips.

Three years ago, I went to the International Small Business Congress.

Four years ago, I agreed to babysit Annie and Sara for the first time by myself.

Five years ago, I fell in love with a boy named Spencer.

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Today's Blatherpics:

	Brittany does a dance of joy over the first snow of the year.
	Larkin and Rick and Brittany at the Turkey Bowl.
	Turkey Bowl team photo (both teams). The game ended up being a tie.
	Brittany and I spent part of the game drawing pictures in the dirt along the road beside the camp horse paddocks (is that the right term?) nearby.

cottage shower

Jeff and I are at the cottage for Thanksgiving weekend right now. Usually by the time Thanksgiving rolls around, most of the fall colours are over. This weekend, however, the colours are at the peak, a glorious riot of scarlets and oranges and yellows, above and below.

The big news at the cottage this weekend is The New Shower, replacing the old one. I love taking outdoor showers; there's something liberating about being doused by hot water in the middle of nature.





Larkin is noticeably pregnant (she's due mid-December). I asked her eagerly whether she thought it might be twins and she gave me the same "I'm going to kill you" look that other pregnant friends have given me when I asked the identical question.

Larkin's husband Rick is a chef of great skill at Oasis restaurant. He brought several dozen hand-picked Malpeck (sp?) oysters, shucked them in the kitchen, served them to us on ice with wedges of lemon and green tabasco sauce. It was the first time we'd ever had oysters at the cottage! Yummmm....





For dinner, we had Rick's homemade Montreal-style tourtiére (a sort of spiced meat pie) which was to die for, peas, salad with blue cheese dressing, tomato marmalade. Ginny made apple crisp with whipped cream for dessert.





Jeff, Ginny, Brittany and I had a sauna and quick dip in the lake before dinner. VERY quick dip in the lake...it's pretty darned cold! The kind of cold where you're swimming to get out even before you hit the water. Very refreshing. :-)

Today's the Annual Cottage Turkey Bowl (football game between cottagers in the north and the south ends of the lake) and Thanksgiving dinner.

Have a great weekend, everyone!





Links/News:

One year ago, I arrived in California.

Three years ago, we hung out with Reid, Luisa & John Swain.

Four years ago, we played with Olivia and Brittany at the cottage.

---

Today's Blatherpics:

	While JBR was showing us the new outdoor shower, I took this photo of myself in the reflection of the showerhead, looking straight up.
	The new outdoor shower.
	Oysters.
	Rick's tourtiére. (drool)
	Brittany.

snood

*WARNING*: If you have a tendency to get easily addicted to computer games, whatever you do, DON'T read the rest of this Blathering! I'm not kidding! Trust me!!

So Andy was right about Jeff liking the movie Cabaret despite it being a musical (he posted about this in Blatherchat a while back).

Last night, Jeff and I hung out at Andy's and Christine's. We had pizza from Amato's that was mouthwateringly good and then watched Cabaret. Great movie! Wow, Michael York looked so innocent and young back then. And wow, what a voice on Liza Minnelli. I'd heard recordings, of course, and numerous parodies.

Andy and Christine introduced Jeff to the joys of Snood. When Christine was going through cancer treatments, she asked friends to recommend anything that would help distract her from the bad stuff. A friend recommended Snood. "It's highly addictive," Christine told us.

Anyway, we watched Andy play a little bit. As you can tell from the high score list in the screen shot above, he's not quite as good as Christine. :-) It was great fun mocking his technique as we stood watching, and then (I will get you for this, Andy) he asked Jeff if he wanted to give it a try.

The pizza arrived. "I'll be right there," promised Jeff, his eyes fixed on the screen. After we got home, Jeff downloaded Snood (the Snood Web site has a free demo available for a number of platforms).

"I'm going to bed," I told him.

"I'll be right there," Jeff said, his eyes fixed on the screen. 45 minutes later...

But I can't complain; I've been there with games, and also when I start fiddling about with HTML stuff. The games are easier to control, since I just don't let myself play them during work hours. HTML-fiddling is trickier, since I can always justify the time as being work-related somehow.

Speaking of work, I sent out two queries this week, got one bite so far (I'm writing about my NaNoWriMo experience next month for a newspaper). After asking some questions on the NaNoWriMo forums, I found that doing prepwork before November IS allowed, so I've written out a basic outline of the novel I want to write. Not sure how much good this will do me, however, since in the past I've found that I always change the outline.

Hey, I just checked out the Snood Web site and found that there's a Palm version. Uh oh.

Links/News:

Congratulations to Helen (who writes as "antonlerchner" in Blatherchat sometimes) and Alec, who get married today!

Two years ago, I was sick after hanging out with kids with colds at the cottage.

Three years ago, Jeff and I were sick after hanging out with kids with colds at the cottage.

Hmmm. Jeff and I are leaving for the cottage in a couple hours. Maybe I'd better stock up on tissues and cold remedies before we leave, just to save time.

To you Canadians out there: Have a great Thanksgiving weekend!

queenwatching

(Warning: photo-heavy entry today)

So I did, indeed, see the Duke and the Queen yesterday.

I decided to take off work in the late afternoon to hang out with the other eager Royal-watchers in front of the Royal York Hotel, a few blocks away from our apartment. I got there half an hour before the Queen was supposed to arrive, had some interesting conversations with the people next to me. One woman had taken the day off work to Queen-watch.





In the picture above, I circled a little boy in a kilt who was obviously hoping to meet the Queen. More about him later.

The first sign of anything exciting is when the hotel staff roll out the red carpet:





...and polish one of the hand railings in front of the hotel:





The Duke of Edinburgh arrives without much fanfare. The crowd claps, but he doesn't react, just heads straight into the hotel. Must have been a hard day:





The hotel staff rolls up the red carpet, puts it away.

More waiting. The media shows up. A CTV guy starts wandering through the audence. "Anyone met the Queen before?" he yells. One woman at the back of the crowd puts up her hand. "Me!"

He makes his way to her with a microphone. He says something, and then I hear her reply, "OH! I thought you were asking who hasn't met the Queen before."

I'm standing on the stone wall of a planted area in the median. A Global TV camera guy asks if he can climb up beside me. I say sure. I ask him if I can take his picture. He says sure:





Hey! Just noticed you can see part of my reflection in his lens. :-)

We've been waiting about 40 minutes. The Queen is about 15 minutes past schedule. I chat briefly with a teenager standing on the wall on the other side from the Global TV camera guy. The teenager is trying to look cool but I can tell he's excited.

I'm watching the little boy. He's getting restless:





A nicely dressed woman starts handing out flags for people to wave when the Queen arrives. I want one badly. Should I abandon my prime viewing post to get one? Better not. But what if she doesn't come over to our area of the crowd?

But she does, yay! The teenager says, "Hey, very cool!" when he gets his flag. Here's mine:





The waiting crowd is also restless but hyped. An older woman in front of me on the street is so excited she feels compelled to shake the hands of the policeman in front of her. He is highly amused:





Several guys with earpieces start strolling up and down the street, watching our faces. The hotel staff roll out the carpet again. The street is blocked off.

A murmur of excitement. The Queen's coming! Two motorcycles zoom past first, everyone cheers, followed by important-looking cars. One of the important-looking cars stops in front of the red carpet. A Canadian Mountie steps up and opens the door for the Queen, salutes her.

I had expected a more fragile-looking woman, one who needed help getting out of the car and across the carpet into the building. Instead, I'm surprised to see a remarkably cheerful and smartly dressed Queen step out of the car, turn to wave and smile at the crowd.

She starts heading into the building, but then someone must say something, because she turns and sees the little boy being escorted towards her by his father. The child is clutching a bouquet of flowers and wailing, tears pouring down his flushed cheeks. He's not a happy camper.

The Queen takes the flowers from him, and the boy is borne away in the arms of his father, doomed to listen to the story of how he cried for the Queen many times in years to come, I'm sure:





Later in the evening, the Queen and the Duke attend the Royal Gala Festival at Roy Thompson Hall, which is across the street from our apartment building, and are greeted by the Prime Minister of Canada.





Here's a photo I took from my office window about half an hour before the Queen arrived:





The organized bit of crowd to the left are the Bands of the 48th Highlanders of Canada and the Governor General's Horse Guards (no, I have no idea what Horse Guards are).

Curious, Jeff and I go down to check it out. The band is playing right in front of our building!





We see Prime Minister Chrétien arrive, then the Queen and the Duke. A bunch of tenants from our building are on the front steps, some with babies, some with camcorders, some with babies and camcorders. :-)

Then all the dignitaries go inside, and Jeff and I go back to our apartment for dinner and to check out the performance that's going on inside Roy Thompson Hall, broadcast live on CBC television. When it's over, we go downstairs again and watch her leave. She gets a huge cheer and applause from the crowd.

So I got to see the Queen three times today! Right in our neighbourhood, too.

And now I have to add another item to my "What I Will Miss About Our Neighbourhood When We Move" list: having the Queen and the Duke drop by for a visit.

Links/News:

One year ago I saw an intellectual property lawyer and packed for California.

Two years ago, I gave my Turkey Bowl report.