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The cottage trip went more smoothly than expected, with Carolyn's emotions only really getting the better of her once we were on the last stretch of the drive.


The cottage itself wintered well, with no apparent leaks or cracked pipes, and no-one having broken in since I sealed it up in the fall, which has happened a couple times in the past.  Being basically invisible from the road or any neighbours, its kind of a target for things like that.

The weather was fantastic, and something like 10 degrees warmer than the forecast I'd seen before we left, allowing for some naturism (again, its pretty secluded up there..), and making the outdoor chores enjoyable.

The lone black spot on the long weekend came when we attempted to run a load of the weekend's linens and towels through the washer, and finding that the winter cold and, likely more significant, age of the washer had cracked a seal in the drum leaving us scrambling to sop up a lot of water, without the benefit of a mop.

Its still very much up in the air as to what will come of the cottage in coming months as Carolyn's mom and siblings sort out their desires.  But low maintenance weekends like this one past make me more open to the outside prospect of taking on a second property tax bill.

The Cottage

This weekend promises to be an emotional one.

Carolyn's dad bought a plot of land on a calculated whim, if there's such a thing, back in the 70s, so the story goes.  As he built his family, he also, bit by bit, cleared a plot of trees, poured a foundation, and built a home away from home.

Drilling of a well, setting of a septic bed, clearing of a path for an overhead, electric line through trees, and clearing of trees jeopardizing those lines all undertaken by Carolyn's dad.

Built from the ground up, basically by hand, this first visit to the family cottage this weekend will be difficult.  In the days following his passing, I drove up with a a long time friend, and, as small cities go,  also distant in-law of the family, to grab some belongings for visitation, and drain water lines since it was pretty clear at that point, no-one would be, or want to be going back to the cottage for a while.

At the time it was an act of preservation, and support.  I knew there were important family photos there, and I also knew the cottage would need to be prepped for winter, because the stalwart of that landing was no longer around.

As it turned out, Carolyn and I had been the last occupants a few weeks earlier, with our notes of minor maintenance issues still sitting on the kitchen table, as was tradition.  In the shock of how these things go, my old friend and I grabbed the required, as well as some quirky belongings, ensured antifreeze in the drains, and completed the cannonball run up north and back.

Funeral, extended visitation with extended family, and time.  And all the adjustment that comes with funerals.

And now, its time to go back to the cottage for the first time for anyone in the family, and begin adapting with the builder no longer being around to offer his critique.

Its started to hit me more than it did in those first days of rushing up to just 'take care of things'.

To have a dedicated father, with goal in mind of a family retreat, and place to relax in in retirement.  A retirement that was just shy of a year away.  Long hours invested to have returns cut short.

And as trying as it will be for me, for Carolyn, as the oldest, and most embracing of the cottage experience and all its trivialities, I don't expect it to be easy going.  Frequently disagreeing with her father's 'design' ideas, and propensity towards brown paint, and 100W lightbulbs everywhere, Carolyn, with her mom, took pride in finishing details of the projects, arranging, and organizing the cottage into what is a truly relaxing retreat.

I can only try to imagine and ease the emotions Carolyn will go through this weekend, likely without success.  Myself, I'll be building a fire in the 'limestone amphitheater' hot enough to quickly evaporate any eye moisture that I expect may accumulate in memory.

Market Saturation

After years of being envious of Europe for all its music festivals, it seems there's a big push in North America to have more weekend style festivals.

Just within a couple hours driving radius this summer, I could choose from:

-Hillside, Guelph
-Big Music Fest, Kitchener
-Riverfest, Elora
-Field Trip, Toronto
-NXNE, Toronto
-Bestival, Toronto

But with tickets for 2 big shows already this summer, and the costs inherent with going to Boston for one of them, I'm not sure if a festival is in the cards.  Especially with lineups, that, while interesting, are nowhere near the caliber of Coachella, Lollapalooza, or Rock Werchter.

Riverfest will be my pick if I do decide I have more disposable income.

Finding Focus

Sometimes, I need to remind myself to stop focusing on the details, and at the same time, not get too worried about the big picture. I have been swinging to the extremes lately, and not spending much time in the middle.

The Worst

The worst people in the 1st world:

1)  NIMBYs; want their houses powered and well landscaped, want it cheap but also locally sourced, bitch to no-end when a wind farm or quarry is started within 20 km of their Xanadu.

2)  Anti-vaccination'ers'; needs no explanation.  If you're reading this, its probably because you've had vaccinations.

3)  NIMBYs; want to consume lots of things, and toss the packaging for those things in the garbage, then move into houses next door to the place where that garbage is piled, and complain.

4)  Pseudo-science hucksters; most reasonable people don't actually consult astrology anymore.  But in its place, about a billion people, half of them on your Facebook feed, with the perfect aromatic or nutritional solutions to all your problems.  All without any peer reviewed, reproducible evidence of efficacy to be found.  That aromatic oil you're buying? Snake oil, at best (probably didn't even come from snakes, which would at least be sort of cool?)

5)  NIMBYs; move into huge, new build McMansions with no backyards, but still find a way to complain about their backyards.

6)  MLB home-plate umpires.  The rules of the game are not your own to interpret.  Stop calling the strike zone as though it was.  No team bias here, watching plenty of neutral games a year, I just want to see the zone not as interpretive dance, but as a clear, concrete thing.  Robots could easily do it.  Don't give MLB ammunition going into your next #umpshow collective bargaining agreement.

7) NIMBYs; move in to nice new subdivisions near airports, pre-dating subdivison construction, then complain about noise from objects magically flying through sky (those things are only okay when flying to 5 day, all inclusive getaways in resort-land).

8) Politicians.

Sprung

The air smells like spring.  The temperatures have teased us so far, but the smell is really there now.  Little nubs of grass are starting to poke through flat yellow lawns everywhere.

Everyone I talk to seems to be getting super excited about barbecue as well.  I don't have the heart to tell most of them that I've barbecued weekly on average all winter long, with only January really hurting my grill patterns.  But I appreciate all their enthusiasm.

The sunny, warm forecast this week has me almost even believing that work near the core of Toronto this week will be a delight, and go off without issue.  No budget for hotels, or food really, but still, will be sunshine and rainbows (except for the commute, which will suck no matter what).

The Jays lost on home opener day, again.  That also seems like a sure sign of spring.  Of course, many Jays fans lost before the game had even begun, standing in massive lines in the rain awaiting 'security' scans which likely were about as effective as the 'scared to offend' courtesy patdowns of yesteryear, and only really effective in backing up large crowds of people outside the venue.  Anyone really wanting to attack wouldn't even need to pay for admission.

A friend posted an interesting link this week on death statistics.  Note in particular the comparison chart near the bottom of the article.  While it seems to miss a lot of non-cancer disease, it still manages to highlight the absurdity of the emphasis we place on 'security'.  I'm curious to see what, if any backlash will come out of this, or if we can just expect cavity searches next year to gain entry to ball parks.  Hell, maybe if they train the staff well enough, you can build in your yearly exams at the same time.  You know, bring health care and policing together in one happy place.  Huge tax savings.

Right, back to spring.  Breath of fresh air.  Baseball.  Record Store Day.  Game of Thrones.  There's just enough there to distract oneself.

Row Over a Row

Early in the winter, I decided that a rowing machine would probably get a lot more use than our failing treadmill, and offer more of a full body workout, all while allowing me to watch a couple shows, or some sports.

In March, true to form, I finally pulled the trigger on buying a machine, well rated all across the interwebs, but a little more expensive than I might have opted for, had I not screwed up my first rough run through of my tax return.  In the end though, I'm glad I paid the premium.  Despite a technical issue still keeping me from logging my workouts to a flash drive properly, the company has a well organized website, a great community of users on the workout log portal, and has been very prompt and engaging in trying to work out the USB drive issue, though through an increasing e-mail chain.

Maybe its still the newness of it, but I've also managed to log my target average of 20km per week, except for the week I had the flu, despite an accelerating field work schedule.  And now baseball is starting for real, which should mean easy, distracted workouts while watching games on the 'off' days.

If I keep up the pace, the machine will have paid off the equivalent of a gym membership by the time the Jays baseball season is done (in early November...instead of early September this year) and hopefully will still be whooshing right along.  Hell, I might even be fit by then!

Number 9, Number 9, Number 9

Forecast high of 9 degrees metric tomorrow. 282 SI.  All positive daytime highs in the 7 day forecast.  The deck has been partially shoveled clear to facilitate barbecuing, which has occurred infrequently all winter, but will definitely be increased during this glimpse at the spring.

Went out to one of the local restaurants whose focus is a large selection of delicious beers with some friends tonight.  One of my cousins is also a server there.  Laughs were had, delicious venison burgers were consumed.  And after a couple pints, and a meal, after a full day in the office, the sun was still up.

Daylight savings time.  I know its antiquated, and mostly unjustified, so, lets just switch to it full time and have light  later into the evening all the time.  I'd put money on it helping SADs too, with people actually able to experience daylight  after a workday indoors, shift work aside.

Alas, I should be thinking about sleep, but I'm an hour behind.  Luckily, I escape the office tomorrow and can let sunshine and 9 degrees carry me through.  ...9.  Good Night.