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From the shoulda-done-this-a-week-ago department:

ALL ZERO READERS OF THIS LAME BLOG: Enough whining about your slacking off, NormMonkey, and get to the post!

ME: But I really want to say how bad I feel that…

AZROLB: Enough! Shut up!

ME: OK, fine. Here goes….

Alrighty then, here’s the list of stuff I wanted to talk about from waay back last week:

• Visits with friends on Friday
• Cottage trip on Saturday / Sunday (photos coming soon!)
• Not much interesting on Monday (Autonosys meeting)
• Met an amazing and totally cool person on Tuesday. Spent way more time than expected in the Byward market downtown, but it was worth every moment.

VISITS WITH FRIENDS ON FRIDAY

Well, it’s been so long since this happend that …

AZROLB: We said shut up already!

… uh, I mean, I totally remember everything that happened! Yeah! My good friends P&M invited me over to hang out. M was going to go have a girl’s night out so P and I ordered some Indian food for delivery and hung around his place. He has two young daughters, you see, so it was his duty to take care of ‘em while M was having a well-deserved night out.

I got to play Unca Normie for an hour or so before the kids’ bedtime so that was fun, playing hide and seek, “I Spy”, drawing stuff. It’s fun being an uncle: all the fun of being around kids without any of that parenting stuff. Which brings me to an episode of parenting which made me feel… hmm? Proud to be P&M’s friend? Glad that A and E have such great parents? Impressed at P&M’s parenting skillz? A little of each, proabably.

A is an almost-three year old. E is about one. Naturally they sometimes play well together and sometimes they don’t. In this case, we (the grown-ups) were standing about in the kitchen (I think we were getting a second helping of food, but it’s been so long I can’t remem…

AZROLB: NormMonkey, I’m warning you, get on with it!

… I mean, yeah, that’s it, we were getting food and standing around in the kitchen chatting when we heard crying start up from the other room. A had hit E. I think it was actually A who was crying in remorse for her own actions, but I’m not sure. In any event, by the time I got there P had already asked questions, figured out what happened and was sending A off to her room, a punishment that A accepted with a little bit of crying and fuss.

At the time, M was actually apologizing for it. I suppose that makes sense from her point of view as a parent who had to discipline her kid in front of a guest — something some parents shy away from, probably to their kids’ detriment — but from my point of view I felt impressed and, I don’t know, perhaps a little honoured to have witnessed an example of excellent parenting. It’s not just what they did; it’s the way they handled it, in a firm-yet-gentle sort of way which probably only other parents can find the words to describe. It affirmed my belief in the togetherness of my friends’ family.

Anyways, I got to play with the kids and chat with my friends for an hour or so until their bedtime. Then M went off to have some fun with her friends while P and I stayed at home. We chatted for awhile and then watched some football. Ah, ye old TV. How I miss it… and yet I’m still glad to be rid of the commercials (more about that coming in a post tomorrow). Anyways, that was Friday.

COTTAGE TRIP WEEKEND

The reason pretense for my little trip to the cottage was to deliver a hammock that belongs up there and to take my 400mm lens for some practise photography. Of course, in my haste to leave the city and get up there, I forgot both of these things at home. Ah, well.

The cottage is the kind of place where the beauty is in the relaxation. The fun, the joy, the experience is all in the minute details. It’s hard to write about it because it either ends up being a dry recounting of the events which lacks the personal experiences that make up the heart of those events, or it becomes too long and boring for the reader to appreciate any of it. I’ll try an approach that covers the dry parts in a list format and then expands upon a few of those moments that were particularly memorable for me:

* left house around 09h00 or 10h00, forgetting the hammock and long lens that were my putative reason for going there in the first place;
* arrived in time for lunch. All I brought with me was a mostly finished block of cheese and some carrots. My plan was to eat up some of the canned goods before they expired;
* ran down to the lake, grabbed some water, ran back (who says there’s no running water at the cottage, eh? Well, “sauntering”, perhaps d:). Turned on cottage electricity, boiled water, made big jug of tea, added sugar and placed in fridge for later. Aahhh, nothing beats home-brewed iced tea;
* did a bit of woodwork. I have a couple of pieces of wood I rescued from the water that I’m attempting to turn into walking staffs. I started them last year but had to stop ’cause they were still too soft. They’ve since seasoned in the cottage;
* wandered around snapping photos;
* went out on the lake in the orange kayak.

I had originally planned to spend more than just a half-hour out on the lake, but between the nice lunch and the warm sun all around me, I quickly got into one of those post-lunch napping sort of moods. You know, the kind of mood you sometimes get when you just finished lunch, you’re relaxed and at peace with the world, the sun is shining, the wind blowing. My mind filled with images of hammock, I made my way back to shore. I had myself a quick dip in the lake and made my way over to hammock-land.

(I should add, at this point, that while there is a hammock sitting in a bag by the door at home that I’ve forgotten to bring up, there’s also another, older one already strung up between two trees. This hammock is not in great shape — hence my being OK with leaving it strung up — but it’s still in good enough shape for me to enjoy)

Picture this moment in time: all around you, the green trees rustle as the wind gently flows around them and over you. Through the trees you can hear kids playing in the water. To your right, you watch as a water-skier jumps across some waves. Your swimming suit is still wet from your dip in the lake, but the calm wind and an occasional warm ray of sun are drying you out as they caress you with their gentle touch. You are calm. Relaxed. At peace with the world. The worries of your city life are far, far away. Here and now there is only the chirping of the birds, the lapping of the waves, the rustle of the wind in the trees. You close your eyes and fall lightly asleep. Time is not important right now.

* after the hammock-time, I read for awhile;
* dinner was pea soup followed by a stew, although I had found some angel-hair pasta and added it to the stew. It tasted much better than it probably sounds. Carrots, tea and cheese for dessert;
* more wood-working;
* another trip out on the lake, this time with the blue kayak. It seems that the orange kayak is more comfortable to sit in but a little harder to control;
* got home as the sun was setting; went to read for a bit longer.

One of the great joys about the cottage is the sauna. The sauna is so amazing I cannot possibly do it justice in mere words, but I’ll try. First there is the pre-sauna ritual of building and lighting the fire. Then, waiting for the sauna to heat up, I wait out on the screened-in deck, reading a little as I hear the fire crackle, sometimes pausing to watch the last of the sun set, to hear the loon calls across the water.

Then it is sauna time. Opening the door, a wave of heat flows over me, welcoming me as I take my place on the wooden bench. Around me, on the wooden panelling of the walls, I see the names and pictures marked by various friends whose company I have enjoyed in times past. Looking at them one at a time, I recall memories of good times gone by. I grab a quick drink from the bucket of water I’ve freshly drawn from the lake, and toss the rest of my cup, followed by one or two more, onto the hot rocks that surround the sauna itself. A wave of humidity washes over me. Standing to look at the thermometer, I see that it’s over 200 °F in here. I remember wondering as a kid how it is that we can sit here in an oven that’s hotter than boiling temperature without getting hurt (the answer, of course, being that our human bodies, being mostly water and with active cooling measures — sweating, for example — can easily withstand hanging about in a fairly open room full of relatively dry hot air for at least a little while).

Soon it is hot enough that I need a quick break. I walk outside and stand for a while under the string of lights wrapped around the rafters, looking up to see the steam as it rises off of my hot body. Then it’s back into the sauna again. As I sit there and let the heat flow over me, around me, I let my mind wander. Soon enough, I start to feel hot again. I wait for another couple of minutes and then make the short trip for a dip in the lake.

My heart beats quickly as I wade into the lake until I’m neck-deep in the water. Then, standing perfectly still, my body heat warms the water immediately around me. I look up and stare at the stars beyond the sky. I feel so small, tiny, insignificant as I stare up at the infinitely huge space beyond the world I live in, which itself is infinitely huge compared to my own tiny, personal world. Then it’s back into the sauna.

The cycle is repeated, only next time I get a little shampoo (biodegradeable, of course) and soap up before I jump in the lake. Finally, I come back from the last dip and just stand around. My body, having just gone through repeated cycles of hot sauna and cold lake, has no idea that it should be feeling quite cool as I stand there, wet and slowly drying, outside in the dark night. I pick up my stuff and head back to the cottage. By the time I get back I’m totally dry. Only my hair remains a little damp.

There is nothing in the world that lets me get as perfect a sleep as I get when I go to bed right after a sauna. Nothing. It is a feeling of being completely refreshed and relaxed, completely amazing to me, every time.

* woke up next morning, had a glass of iced tea for breakfast;
* went out on the lake in the orange kayak to take pictures;
* came back and discovered that the bottom of my camera case had gotten wet; no equipment damaged, but some papers got wet;
* spread the contents of the camera bag out on various surfaces to dry;
* rounded up all the dishes, put some water on to boil;
* read a bit more while the water heats;
* did all the dishes; turned off the electricity;
* rounded up all my stuff into my backpack. Closed and locked the doors;
* headed back into the city.

Well, I think that’s probably enough for now. I’ll post this and write about the rest in a new post tomorrow sometime.

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