When my sisters and I were little, my parents and grandparents would go for their annual 2 week vacation together. Each year during that time period we would head up to Mattawa, to a rented cottage. This was before the tent-trailer/trailer camping phase (sans grandparents) of our lives began.
I absolutely loved staying at the Blanchard family’s cottages, located on a private lake.
Every (very early) morning was spent watching the sun rise from our little aluminum boat, poles expectantly dangling above the water. Every evening was spent the same way, this time watching the sun go down and using a flashlight to get back to the dock in the near darkness.
We caught so much fish we had it for breakfast (catfish with our eggs and bacon) and supper (perch, bass or pike). At first it was great. But after a week of this we kids used to beg Mom: “Please, no more fish! Can’t we have pork chops tonight please???”
Days were spent exploring the property and swimming in the lake. There was a little pond at the end of a trail in the bush near the cottage, that housed the baby fish used to stock the lake. I loved to go there and check on their progress.
There was a tiny tuck shop at the main house and every day Mom would give us a dime (a whole dime!!!) with which to buy ourselves a treat – it ended up being a chocolate bar, usually. This was unbelievably thrilling to us as kids as we didn’t have any sweets at our house, except for special occasions.
My middle sister (the youngest was still too young to accompany us) would invariably pipe up that she wanted whatever I was getting, which earned her the nickname “Me-Too” from Mrs. Blanchard.
Once back home, I would often lay awake at night and relive those carefree, happy weeks every summer at the cottage. I felt unbearably homesick for that part of the province at times, and vowed I would find a way to live there – on a lake – when I grew up.
Well, I grew up and did not end up north of here, living lakeside, for a multitude of reasons.
But little Me-Too managed to do it! And I was reminded of my childhood vow when I visited her and her wife at their lovely property last summer.
This got me thinking that I have nothing stopping me from relocating to a waterfront property, once I am no longer tied to an area due to proximity to work. There are so many lakes in this province of mine (including 4 Great Lakes) that it will be hard to choose the exact “right” one for me.
For sure, my dream property has to be close to hiking and walking trails and be ideal for kayaking, stand-up paddle boarding, and swimming.
(Fishing has lost its thrill for me so that doesn’t factor into my decision…something I never could have foreseen. I haven’t fished in years and last time I did I surprisingly felt so sorry for the beautiful fish I hauled out of the lake, I released it right away – much to my first husband’s chagrin. So I started leaving my pole on the shore and bringing a book onto the boat with him instead.)
Obviously a move like this is a huge decision and one that requires a lot of thought and research. Wouldn’t it be funny if it became my turn to be “Me-Too”?