Today's Blathering is a collab entry for
Wordgoddess. Topic: "A Day In The Life Of...". The photos were taken on a recent cottage visit day this past weekend; we just got back this afternoon. You can click on any photo to see a bigger version as well as comments about that specific photo. You can see a full set of my winter cottage visit photos
here. Jeff just told me that Yahoo bought Flickr recently. Ugh, not sure if I'm thrilled about this.
Anyway...Jeff and I tend to make at least one trip to the cottage every winter, usually with his parents and sometimes other relatives as well.
Upon arrival at the parking lot, we switch from city boots to our Sorels and ski boots, don snow pants and other warm gear. It's sunny out, but the wind has a bite to it.
Depending on ice and weather conditions, we cross the lake on foot, snowshoes, or cross-country skis. This time I opted for going on foot though I probably should have switched to snowshoes partway across the lake when the snow was somewhat deeper.
I usually go into a bit of a zone during the crossing, a sort of meditative state of mind where time seems to pass at a different pace as I fall into the rhythm of each step, my breathing, the crunch of snow and ice. Inevitably I end up stripping off layers during the thirty minute trek across the ice until I'm down to a sports bra and my snow pants; my in-laws are amused. :-)
We take our supplies on plastic toboggans that we pull behind us, and take all the trash out on the way back. You learn to be ruthless when packing, though I allow myself the luxury of a penny whistle (hey, they're small and light!).
The ice conditions are good for a crossing this time, and the toboggans slide easily across the lake. On bad days, slushy ice can accumulate on skis and toboggans, increasing friction and making each step an effort.
Sunglasses are a must. The glare from the snow and ice can be blinding sometimes, and even with sunglasses shading my eyes, I sometimes close my eyes during the walk to give them a break.
It's an incredible feeling, walking across that vast expanse of whiteness. So rare to have that feeling of empty space in the city, especially right downtown. I try to imagine what we must look like from up above: small black specks slowly trudging away across all that gleaming snow and ice.
Upon arriving at the cottage, first tasks include: making sure there's electric power (not a guaranteed thing during the winter), starting a fire in the woodstove, heating up the sleeping cabins, shovel walking paths, chopping a hole in the lake ice for water.
Since my tendinitis hasn't improved enough to enable me to shovel snow yet, I work on clearing a path up to the outhouse by just trudging up and down it, over and over again. It's tough, especially since the snow is thigh-deep in places.
At one point I decided to take a break, had nowhere to sit down, so just fell over and made a snow angel instead. Very relaxing, lying there in the soft snow, looking up at the trees and blue sky above. Until the cold started penetrating through my snow pants, that is. :-)
Dinner that first day was made by Ginny, transported across the lake in thick Ziploc bags: a chicken stew which we heated up in a pot, and pre-cooked rice which we heated up in a microwave oven. Dessert: homemade butter tarts! Yummm.
Cleaning up after meals is somewhat more of a hassle than during warmer weather since there's no running water. Water is carried from a hole in the ice (chopped by Jeff) and kept in a plastic pail in the kitchen area, heated up in a pot for washing. Lake water can be used for drinking water after being boiled, but this time we brought over two large plastic jugs of drinking water instead.
Activities included reading, snoozing, cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, knitting, and talking about plans for our new house. Ginny (my mom-in-law) is an experienced interior designer, so Jeff and I were interested in hearing her ideas. She also gave me a GREAT idea for my basement office, turning what was previously an open closet into a craft/layout table and storage area.
By the way, during the weekend I also decided that I'm going to try turning part of one wall in my basement office (probably the short hallway leading into my office) into a giant canvas. I've always wanted to paint a wall. Not paint as in one colour, but paint ANYTHING I WANTED. Cartoons, landscapes, doodles, musical scribbles. And when I get tired of the picture, I'll just paint over it. First, though, I need to figure out how practical this is. What kind of paint I need, how expensive it is, how easily I can paint over it. Plus I'd rather not use any wallspace that could be supporting BOOKSHELVES instead, which is why I'm thinking of hallway wallspace.
I'd also love to turn part of the wall into a giant corkboard where I can stick up photos, doodles, whatever else I feel like looking at. Jeff suggested I investigate the possibility of turning some of my Corel Painter paintings into giant posters.
But I digress. I was talking about the cottage...
One of my cottage visit highlights: Yesterday morning, I decided to go for a solo walk around a large island near the cottage, so I strapped on a pair of snowshoes and set off while Jeff was still sleeping.
The sky was a brilliant blue and sun was warm on my face and shoulders; I soon took off my jacket and fleece vest, tied them around my waist instead. The walk was a bit tougher than our earlier trek because the top layer of snow had hardened into a crust; as a result, I had to lift my snowshoes higher with each step to prevent the tip from catching on the crust and sending me sprawling. But it was still a great walk (and an excellent cardio workout :-)), and the combination of sunshine and fresh air was exhilarating.
I came across animal tracks: a moose (I think it was a moose) crossing the lake, rabbits, other smaller creatures. And from time to time, the ice talked to me.
The first time this happened, I was a bit freaked out. I was just snowshoein' along when suddenly...WHOOSH.
Hard to describe the sound except that it was very loud and all around me; at first, I couldn't help but think that it sounded an awful lot like ice starting to crack. I froze the first time it happened, frantically looking around, prepared to leap into action. What kind of action, I have no idea.
When nothing happened, I shrugged and kept walking. Then the WHOOSH happened again, this time sounding as if it was coming from a large area on my right. After a few more WHOOSHES and no huge crack appearing to swallow me into an icy death, I started to welcome the sound as well as trying to figure out what exactly was causing it. My best theory: my walking across the crust of snow and ice caused things to shift a tiny bit, but even this small shift had repercussions that resulted in a much larger shift. Hence the WHOOSH.
Another big highlight: SEEING THE
INTERNATIONAL SPACE STATION! Jeff told us where to look and when, and on both nights the four of us bundled up and waited out on the frozen lake in the darkness. VERY cool to see that small dot of light moving rapidly across the sky, and know that there were people up there.
But the highlight of my cottage visit? Playing whistle out on the ice. No one to complain about the noise, and I couldn't have asked for better scenery. Fingers did get a bit chilly after a while, but the occasional swig of Scotch from Jeff's glass helped.
And that was my day.
Monday, July 4, 2005 at 11:29AM 
