We arrived home today with a carload of paints, clothes, canvasses, beads and food from a summer up north. I know we are all going to have a really good year and I know I am luckier than most with how I work and play all summer up north, but I hate that last swim in the lake and that last sleep in the country. It always seems like it comes way too soon.
I need to remember my favourite moments and put them in the memory bank to pull out in bleak November or bone chilling February.
Here are a few-
–running in the morning at the cottage and then taking my clothes off on the dock and jumping right into the lake with my undies on (real estate values have likely dropped since I began this). Hot sweaty skin meets cold fresh lake water – this is beyond spectacular.
–picking up fresh peaches, strawberries, beans and corn at local fruit stands in small towns/sideroads – so relaxing- the antithesis of shopping at Loblaws.
–digging fresh veggies out of a friend’s garden, cooking together and eating outside for hours under a big summer sky.
– several of my close friends dropping in for a meal, a swim, a chat or a night this summer-not because they had time, not because it was convenient but because they missed me and wanted to see me. I love this.
–the way the reflection of the rising sun and water played on my my bedroom wall every single morning all summer announcing the beautiful weather before I even got out of bed.
–setting up the outdoor gallery at the end of each week of art camp. The combination of hard work, satisfaction and pride in the little and big artists makes this exhilarating.
–writing in the morning with a hot cup of coffee and the view of the lake
–yesterday, actually, in the dining room at the cottage with my children, one painting a large canvas
the other baking cookies
and me, writing my book
in our bathing suits with Ella Fitzgerald playing in the background.
We have not been the 3 of us much this summer and to be in one room happy, creating side by side was a particular form of heaven.
Give me a snapshot of the moment that will float you through the bleak days of winter, don’t leave anything out-
this sounds fantastic- i would love to see it one day, Desi.
love the outdoor movie in the neighbourhood- thanks for sharing your outdoor memory
The Friday night movie my neighbours screened on a big dropsheet hung from the upstairs window. All the kids stretched out on sleeping bags on the grass, and the parents lounging in lawn chairs with plastic cups of cold pinot grigio. Watching “Harold and Maud” and not minding the frequent preschooler interruptions because I’ve seen that film so many times I can recite the dialogue from memory and I love it to bits. Passing around the Twizzlers and Afterbite and wishing summer nights outdoors would last forever.
Kites over Callingwood. We go every year, and when we were there this Saturday the weight of an incredibly difficult month lifted and we were finally all together out in the sunshine. Actually, finally, feeling the sunshine. It was glorious and perfect, and I will remember it forever 🙂
Awesome post, Nancy! And I’m so pumped about your book!
Can’t wait to read The Book!!!
beautiful- I can picture this. And the beauty of the beach is that mom and dad can sit a little while and actually watch the beautiful scene unfold !
First, I love this post – you rock!
Sitting on a blanket at the Beach (Queen and Woodbine) watching my kids from a distance. Taking turns fetching water, they dig and build a sand castle. Almost silently, they work together, wiping the sweat from their brows with sandy little hands. All of a sudden, the three of them decide to take a break and run into the water together to have a swim and clean off. A rare moment of unity, camaraderie and team work against the backdrop of a quiet lake and streams of sun.