The Lake House

The Lake House is our little slice of heaven.

This view of the Western sunset alone has made me grateful every single day to have the gift of sight.  As dramatic as that sounds, it’s true.

This photo, taken from our dock, is pretty much how we spend every single evening in the summer.

In the city, it seems somehow that everyone is always in a hurry.   And then you get here, and you actually notice which shades of red and orange are appearing in tonight’s sunset, and how long it took for the sun to drop.

We’ve been in this area for a few years in a place that only allowed summer weekend visits.  This was the year that we moved into our new home.  It’s permanent.  It’s forever. It’s home.

In this part of the country, people often call this type of dwelling a cottage.  Further north, they call it camp.  In Western Canada, they call it a cabin.  Why do we call it the Lake House?  It is so special to us, we wanted to call it something different.  And it’s on the water.  And since it’s our home, we wanted to call it a house. The Lake House.

Summers are magic.  We are blessed with many wonderful friends and a family we love.   We enjoy nothing more than spending a few hours on the boat exploring,

or enjoying a swim off the dock.

Or taking the kids rock jumping.

Or quietly reading a book.  Or gathering with friends over a casual dinner featuring casual food, great conversion, and a bottle of wine.  Fish fry, lobster boils, corn roasts, and of course, s’mores….we do it all.

You are going to hear me say from time to time that if you don’t like a certain food, particularly a vegetable, it’s probably not the food itself but rather the way that it has been prepared.  You just haven’t found your way of eating that food yet.

I think the same thing holds true for winter.

I used to think I hated winter.  In Toronto, the city stops in a snow storm.  Everyone is stressed out about being late for work.  The shovelling.  The city snow plough that always shows up right after you’ve finally finished a back-breaking hour of shovelling the drive-way, only to push the street snow in front of your driveway again.  The slush.

I thought that was winter.  It’s just winter in the city and the suburbs.

Now I love winter as much as I love summer.  Like brussels sprouts (which I prefer roasted with bacon instead of boiled), I just needed to find the right kind of winter to suit me.

It’s so peaceful.

In fact, so quiet, we have visitors who don’t usually come so close to the house during the warmer months.

And, as in summer, you can always go exploring.

 

And when you’ve had enough of the chill, there’s always a roaring fire inside and a hot bowl of soup.

 

And there is always another sunset.

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