Where I come from in the South, if you have a place on the ocean or on the lake it is called a beach house or a lake house, or maybe the condo.
Here in the Maritimes it is simply called a cottage. Big, small, old, new, on the beach or just near the beach - all called cottages. We only live about twenty minutes from the beach so pretty much everyone that I know has a cottage in their family. It's like every family in town went out and bought a cottage in the 70's and have had it ever since.
TC's bestie, John, has a family cottage too. When his parents bought it in '78 it was a four room motel. It isn't a motel anymore though, now it's just a regular two bedroom cottage with a funky little bunk house in the yard that sleeps another six people.
I've never been out to anyone's cottage before so I was pretty excited last weekend when we headed out there to celebrate the day of John's birth.
As TC and I pulled in Kevin was just getting back from a quick dip.
These damn Canadians are crazy. It wasn't more than 60 degrees and the water couldn't have been any warmer than 50 degrees. Crazy, I tell you. I don't go near the ocean and all of it's leg-less animals unless it is at least 95 degrees.
Not that the dogs cared.
We all went down to the beach in attempt to rid Maple of some energy.
It didn't work. She just doesn't quit. Ever.
It's a small beach and not exactly the white sandy shores of the Gulf that I'm used to, but the sunset was gorgeous and my wine was delicious just the same.
When we got back the boys set about opening up the cottage as it was the first time anyone had been there for the season. They turned on the water, took down the boarded up windows and put the patio furniture outside.
Then Kevin got stuck with the super nasty job of getting the dead crow out of the fire place. GROSS.
I better not come down with Avian Flu.
Once the crow was laid to rest we barbecued steaks (not that there was BBQ involved, they just don't have the word grill in their vocabulary) and busted out more birthday beverages.
And, of course, the boys demolished the birthday cake in about .02 seconds. A new record, I think.
We spent the rest of the night enjoying the fire and chatting about everything and nothing all at the same time.
Everyone tells stories all the time about the fun they have at each other's cottages in the summer. TC and I are never around in the summer since we're off at camp in Maine, so it was nice to finally be part of a cottage story.
Oh, can you see the little A-frame building on the left? That is the bunk house. It was my favorite part.
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Workout: nothing. again. it's been two weeks. the good news is that my new antibiotics are working their magic and i almost feel human again. we'll try again for the gym tomorrow.
Well, I am now fairly jealous of YOUR cottage story! Amazing...
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