S'mores!

It's time for the first s'mores of 2011!

Nana and Papa found a s'mores kit that they picked up for the kids. (Spoiled much? Why, yes!) Did you know that S'mores in French are "Guim-o-choco"? I had no idea.

It was a fancy thing, the guim-o-choco kit.

With stealth chocolate.

Scallop-edged graham crackers.

And nameless shmallowmallows. The princess nearly lost her mind when she realized it contained "Three Huge Bars of pure milk chocolate!" (She has a bit of a sweet tooth, that one.).

Here the wee lad chars his shmallowmallow to blackened perfection. (bleh).

But THIS is the right way to do it. Just golden and bubbly. I ate one and my head nearly caved in from the sugar.

Maybe I'm exaggerating a little, but my teeth were definitely humming. I have no idea how they can eat four and then scamper off to bed for the night.

Kids are weird.

Dandelions, the cunning wee beasts.

This is the sight that greeted us upon arrival at the cottage:
We've got our very own dandelion farm!

The captain fired up the lawn mower and it caught on the first pull. Finally, something went right this weekend! It's a lot of grass to cut, it took a long time, and he was hot and unhappy afterwards (though somewhat placated by iced tea from the princess). He also traded off with Handy Dad so he didn't have to cut all of it himself.

We're growing cunning dandelions though. Dad figures they either duck or lie down as the mower passes, because they didn't manage to cut them all. By the next morning, they were popping back up all over the yard.

Ah, well. For some reason I care a lot less about dandelions in my cottage grass than I do about finding them in the yard at the house.

So, grow on, little dandelion.

You and your evil minions.

Allyoop!

Our dock on shore, which I suppose is really a deck if you want to split hairs, is a little bit old and tends to sag in the spring (don't we all!?)

This year it was sloping more than usual towards the water. It seems the centre support had shifted/fallen over the winter, probably pushed by ice. It meant the dockdeck was a bit springy, in addition to being slopey.

The water was mild enough (72°F - sorry metric system, water will always be Fahrenheit for me!) that Handy Dad and the Captain were able to get into the water to lift and move things around. The dock is still a little slopey although not as bad, and it's much less springy.

With the dockdeck raised, our dock needed some adjusting to fix the height at which it was attached to the dockdeck.

Somewhere way way way down the cottage wishlist is an entry that reads "renovate the dockdeck", but it won't happen for many years yet.

Unless the cottage has other plans, at least.

That thing you keep food cold in.

Friday we arrived at the cottage. Hooray! We flipped on the power, and everything turned on as expected. The fridge had power, light was on, and the compressor was running. We emptied the coolers into the fridge, and set about unpacking and getting settled in for the evening.

The next morning, as we were eating breakfast, we noticed that the milk seemed a bit warm. The juice too. In fact, nothing in the fridge was particularly cold. But it wasn't until the princess made some iced tea for her Dad (from frozen concentrate) that we realized we had a problem on our hand: the container of frozen concentrate was liquid!!

Augh!

The fridge was making the light and the fridge noises, but it wasn't making the COLD. The captain attempted some basic troubleshooting, but really - a fridge is a darned tricky thing to fix when you know nothing about the mechanics of a fridge.

You know it's bad when the user's manual comes out. (Oh, the life of a technical writer: your work is the option of last resort!) Electricity goes in here. The cold making happens here. The cold goes into the fridge. The end. There were no obvious problems on quick inspection, so we were stumped.

We ended up shunting all of our really perishable stuff (milk, yogurt, mayo, etc) over to our very kind neighbour's fridge, and the captain scooted in to town to get a couple of bags of ice for the cooler for the remaining less-perishable-but-still-need-to-be-kept-cold items, like the "iced" tea.

And now, we're in the market for a new fridge. I thought about buying a plug-in cooler for a short-term solution, but it will cost about as much as a cheap used fridge. I'm just not convinced I want to go the "cheap used fridge" route again. Hauling a fridge out to the island is no small feat! Why, why why why couldn't this have happened in the fall when we had all winter to haul the thing across the ice!?

Do you know anyone who is looking to offload a fridge that's in good running order and that isn't eleventy million years old?

Water, Water everwhere and not a drop to drink, reprise

We thought the addition of a new water pressure tank would bring us quiet days at the cottage with the pump running less frequently.

We. Thought. Wrong.

For reasons as yet undetermined, every time you run the water (and I'm talking about filling a cup with an inch of water), the pump cycles on then off then on then off then on then off... and continues in this vein for about a minute - longer if you pour more water. I'm sure this isn't good for the pump nor the water lines running throughout the cottage. Some Googling indicates the pump is "short cycling", but the cause of the short-cycling hasn't been uncovered. *sigh*

Another unfortunate byproduct of the thrashing water pump is the corresponding dip in power each time it turns on. If you're in a small dark room with the lights on, say,  like in a bathroom shower stall because you're applying grout to the tiles, you're subjected to a lengthy strobe light show. It's enough to make you a little twitchy.

I have a theory that the cottage equilibrium is thrown out of balance when there are no jobs left to do. It finds new jobs for us to ensure that we'll always be working on something. It's a needy place, the Lodge. Needy. This week's problems are next week's projects. And one of them is fiddling with the water pump.

*sigh*

Critters part II

Last weekend was another critterful weekend at the Lodge.

For the first time we've had regular loon sightings on the lake!

No. Not those loons.

This loon! He (assuming it's a he?) has been travelling up and down the West side of the island between West Grape Island and the North Shore. Did you know the North American name "loon" likely comes from either the Old English word lumme, meaning lummox or awkward person, or the Scandinavian word lum meaning lame or clumsy? Either way, the name refers to the loon’s poor ability to walk on land. [thank you wikipedia]. Here, listen to some loons while you continue reading.

In addition to our friend Lummox the Loon, we spotted a mallard paddling around between docks.

This cute little chipmunk was scrounging for some snacks at the base of the deck. He's clever. They way the kids eat their trail mix, there are probably all kinds of peanuts and seeds scattered around down there.

A gross critter discovery occurred when I went to get the bag of grout out of Peaky. As I lifted it up I was greeted by a "puff!" of feathers. Looking down, I spotted the rest of the bird that expired in the bunky at some point. I've no idea how it got in there, or even how long it's been there. Gyehhhh... .*heebieshudder* Handy Dad removed it with a shovel and made it go away. *shudder*

The lilacs at the cottage are in full bloom. They smell so heavenly! The bumble bees are also enjoying them, and I was able to catch one visiting the flowers.

Arguably the most pathetic creature at the lodge, this is Mum's dog, Maggie (my adopted dog sister, I guess?) sitting in her doggie bed perched on a rocking chair. Pathetic creature.

Motorboat, Motorboat, go so slow...

The wee lad got a really cool present this Christmas from his Nana and his Papa: A remote-controlled motorboat! It's a Racing Boat!! You can tell because of the sticker on the side that says "Racing Boat!!"

It's been sitting down in the cottage closet, awaiting our return to the lake.

He finally had an opportunity to assemble and apply all of the appropriate stickers to the hull.

And then he waited some more, because we realized that it uses a rechargeable battery that requires a minimum of 5 hours to charge. It was a very. very. long. five. hours.

Once the minutes ticked away and the hands on the clock stopped moving backwards, it was time for its maiden voyage. He gingerly carried it to the end of the dock, set it into the water, and...

VROOM!

It took off like a shot! It's a speedy little thing, and he's the envy of all the other kids right now. He even had a passing motorboat slow down to check it out. (He is very proud of this fact. I half wonder if the passing boater wasn't simply concerned about swamping the wee boat).

We're clearly going to need to invest in a second battery though. Every time he has to bring the boat ashore to charge the battery is pure torture for him.

There was a brief period of consternation after it started to misbehave (one of the propellers was cycling on and off, rather than staying on) but they soon diagnosed the problem as "weak battery" and the boat was back in the water.

Bathroom, part LXVII, the empire strikes back

Another post in a long string of bathroom posts.

Last fall we had to abandon work on the bathroom to close up for the season when were a few short days away from completion. Oh, how that pained me.

This weekend I managed to complete the grout in the shower stall. It wasn't difficult work, but it was tiring, and it took me longer than I expected. For what it's worth, grouting floor tiles is infinitely easier than grouting a vertical surface! Gravity is a jerk. This is the captain cleaning up some of the times before the grout. I wanted to make sure any of the mortar that had squished up between the tiles was chipped away so that it wouldn't show through the finished grout. Fortunately mortar is somewhat brittle and crumbles easily.

The colour we picked for the grout is called "Biscuit" and it's a lovely light beige colour. It's a little lighter than the colour of the tiles themselves. With the grout in, the little tiling imperfections are minimized and the whole project looks at lot cleaner.

I still need to fill the screw holes in the green board on the ceiling, sand, paint, and then caulk the whole shebang. I figure maybe two more days? Or maybe 1 if the paint dries fast. Oh, and please don't look at the bathroom ceiling yet. That's a project for another day.

I also got some white paint on the cap of the half-wall at the end of the counter and I painted the bench I made last September the same grey colour that I'll be painting the vanity doors. Once I have vanity doors. The bathroom looks better with every day we spend working on it. It won't be long now before it's all done. Hooray!

Treasure

"Hey, Cor.." my Dad calls to me from the back door of the cottage. He has something he wants me to see.

It's dark in the back hall, and at first I can't make out what he's holding. Then I figure it out.

HOLY HECK IT'S MY CELLPHONE!!!

Somehow, while he was standing at the end of the dock peering down into the water, he happened to catch a glimpse of something silver and rectangular on the bottom of the lake in between our two docks. He fetched a fan rake from the garden shed and nudged it along the bottom until it was shallow enough for him to retrieve it.

It has been missing for 8 months and 10 days, committed to the not-so-briney not-very deep. At long last we know what happened to my phone, and I was right Mr. It'll-turn-up-you-don't-need-a-new-phone-cheapie-pants Captain! In. Your. Face! With love: ♥♥♥

(haha... see how I did that? Now he can't get mad at me.)

The Wee Lad wasn't very happy because I promised him that if the missing one turned up and was in good condition, he could have it. About all mine is good for now is acting as a back-up level (Note: the bubble in the LCD).

In case you're wondering, the Captain has the exact same phone. They were both bought at the same time. His has not enjoyed prolonged exposure at the bottom of the lake.

I think the thing that surprised me most about getting the phone was that, once I was able to pry off the battery cover, I was able to remove the tiny micro SD memory card that was in the phone. I plugged it into my card reader tonight when we got home, and I'm able to read it and download all of the pictures that I thought were long gone! After 8 months at the bottom of the lake!

Do they make idiot strings for phones?

For more about the cellphone saga, read here and here.

I could make that!

As I type this, I am in the throws of packing for a weekend away at the cottage. In fact, there's a mountain of stuff in my living room (staging area) and on the front porch (packed and ready to be loaded).

So what do I do when I need to leave the house in an hour? Surf the web and write a blog post, of course. Honestly, I am my own worst enemy. Save me from myself!

So what did I happen to spot on Ana's blog? More gorgeous stuff that I need.... NEED... at the cottage. (sigh)

Check out these chairs though, are they not the cutest?

Photo from Ana-white.com - click for plans

And I love the idea of a fabric sling (so much cooler than quilted polyester chair pads) and the fact that they fold up small is an added bonus at our storage-challenged cottage. She says the same chair would run you $200 at Pottery barn (have Pottery barn customer's been dropped on their heads!? Who pays that kind of money for a child's chair?!). She estimates the material costs (included fabric) to be in/around $10.

Photo from Ana-white.com

These plans are for a child's chair, but I could easily bodge the plans to make them adult-worthy. 'Cause I don't have enough things to do right now.

Dangit.

Does anyone know of a cure for the I-could-make-that's? Apart from a pailful of money, any way. Gah.

Blog will be quiet until we return. Happy Birthday Queen Victoria!

Critters

Life is stirring on the island. The following critters were spotted by the captain and Handy Dad.

This is a turkey vulture. They're about as attractive as their name suggests.

Though when I think "vulture" I always picture this guy in my head:

And this furry little fellow is a muskrat. I'd say he's about as big as a soccer ball, wouldn't you? You better not gnaw on my fuel line, muskrat or I'll brain you with an oar!!

What is this?!

No. Really.

What the heck is this sign about?
We pass it on Highway 28 heading north every time we go to the cottage. Clearly there's slipperiness involved, but it seems to imply "Roads slippery during showers of softballs", which, I suppose, is true albeit unlikely enough that the MTO really didn't need to erect a sign to warn passing motorists.

*boggle*

Anyone?

UPDATE: the marbles are, in fact, intended to represent water or wet things,ergo, the sign is a "slippery when wet" sign. Methinks someone needs a lesson in scale. And I need a remedial driver's ed. session.

9000!

We just rolled 9000 on the blog page views!

Thanks to everyone for your continued interest and support. Without readers like you I wouldn't keep writing.

Oh, the places you'll go!

While gadding about the countryside in search of parts for the gas-can in That Damned Boat™, we puttered through parts of Ontario I'm not sure I've ever visited! If I have, I definitely don't remember it.

We passed a commemorative plaque honouring Mt. Ararat. The Ontario Ministry of Citizenship and Culture has a few of these scattered around, if you know where to look. Actually, that would make for a fun driving scavenger hunt! Anyway, I digress. At first, I thought the spot was one of those depressing road-side shrines marking the spot where a vehicular fatality occurred. I was pleasantly surprised! The plaque reads:

" In May 1847, Catharine Parr Traill (1802-1899), one of Canada's distinguished early writers, moved with her husband, Thomas, and family from Wolf Tower to this farm which they named Mount Ararat, "the highest elevation on the Rice Lake Plains." This property (Lot 19. Concession 8, Hamilton Township) is the locale of Mrs. Traill's famous book for children, Canadian Crusoes (later called Lost in the Backwoods). In the spring of 1849, the Traill family moved a few miles east to Oaklands on Traill Road, their third home in the eleven years they lived in the Gore's Landing area."

 Isn't that neat? I think I'm going to have to pick up that book for my bookworms to devour this summer at the cottage.

On our way out of Gore's landing, I snapped this nifty photo of some trees in the misty rain. I might have to print this for our room at the cottage. The colours are perfect.

Thanks again for stopping by!

That. Damned. Boat. ™

Today, after yet another dance class, we packed up and towed That Damned Boat™ to the marina. We wanted to get it into the water so that next weekend, when we arrive late in the evening, we won't have to deal with getting the boat launched before heading over to the cottage. Cleverrrrrr.

The trip went without incident although I can confess to a bit of anxiety about dragging the boat around on a trailer. It's not something the Captain has a lot of experience doing, so the opportunity exists for things to go horribly awry. The worst of our trouble appeared to be the weather. It was overcast and drizzling lightly the whole way there.

As we arrived at Marvin's (a.k.a. Wood Duck Marina), there was another fellow attempting to launch his pontoon so we pulled up and waited a short while. The Captain took this opportunity to put the bilge plug into the boat (very important to avoid promptly sinking once in the water), to remove the straps, and to disconnect the electrical from the trailer (very important to keep things from going ZZZzzzztttzzzzot).

Soon he was able to back up the truck (unlike this doofus)

He then launched the boat into the water.

At about this time he realized he had no rope tied to the boat yet, and it was quickly heading adrift.

Heehee. These are the times when I'm most grateful for my camera. Please note everyone standing around watching and not helping.

With the boat tied up, he hopped in to start it up. It turned over a few times, and then did nothing. So he cranked it and cranked it and cranked it to no avail. Rather than incur the wrath of an angry captain (you don't have to watch many pirate movies to learn that angry captains lead to walking the plank!) the kids and I skedaddled into the truck to hide out from the rain. Ah yes, the rain, that was it; hiding from the rain.

He decided his recently charged battery was now dead, so he went to ask Marvin for a loaner. Marvin came out to help him out, and he got the boat started straight away much to the Captain's immense frustration. But wait! It died again! Even Marvin the Marvelous couldn't get it going.
That. Damned. BOAT™.

After some soggy troubleshooting in the unceasing drizzle, they concluded that a black bit had snapped off the pick-up unit of the gas tank, and was blocking the flow of gas in the fuel line.(ah, of course! That was my first guess. *boggle*) With instructions to head to Harris Boat Works to buy a new 'bit', we hopped in the truck, deposited the trailer at the VERY overcrowded lot, and toodled over to Gores Landing. Fortunately there were lots of signs showing where to go. I had a rough idea where we needed to be, but was light on specifics about which street, etc.

At Harris, the Captain was quoted $51 for a new pick up unit, or $70-$90 for a new gas can. Urg. He elected to buy a used gas can (make that two) for $30 ea. We had planned to get a new tank anyway as ours leaks a bit when sloshing around in the car, so it just made sense to buy another gas can.

Gas cans in hand (or, I guess, "in truck", as it just so happened) we drove back around to the other side of the lake to give the new pick up unit a whirl.

The boat started right away. I made the Captain shut it off and restart it 3 times before I'd head to the island with him. I didn't want to find out too late that his starting the boat was a one-time streak of good luck!

Again, the boat started without issue, so we donned our PFDs, loaded up, and headed out into the grey drizzle.

The lake was a little bit rough coming around the island (though not very) but the crossing was brief, and within minutes we were docked at the cottage! We unloaded all of our junk, except for the paddles which I stupidly forgot in the truck, and spent a bit of time unpacking and making beds. After a little while, we packed back up, started the boat, and zoomed back to shore.

It was brief, but it was our first trip to the cottage this year as a family. HOORAY!