Tag Archives: cottage

The Loon Hunters

We’d just been laughing about the Beast’oun deck shoes: how absurd it was that they were the only footwear he’d brought to the cottage. I’d warned him to be careful while walking in the woods, over rocks and along slippery leaves. We were headed downhill back to the canoe, tied up to a tree branch and resting in the lake. While I steadied myself, I saw the Beast with his arms in the air like he just didn’t care, sliding down the escarpment on his butt.

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Getting there

Despite rarely shifting past third gear until Barrie, Ont., we still made good time driving to the cottage last night.

To help pass said time, the Beast read aloud some Yelp restaurant reviews. I can’t remember when he first started doing this, but it’s something we both enjoy. Whether they are mundane reviews by “Tammy” about the cold biscuits from Red Lobster, or “Ryan” expressing outrage over the small portions at Denny’s, they are entertaining—and provide a glimpse of how average, humorous, and outrageous we humans can be.

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Activating the Death Grip at the Cottage

Driving to the cottage on Friday night: 

Beast: Hypothetical question: If you could be a little waterfall, a big waterfall, a stream or a babbling brook, what would you be?

Foodie: [Silence]

Beast: Take your time on this one. I really want you to think about it.

Foodie: We are going to eat like kings this weekend! I think we’ll do up the sausages tonight and then have the macaroni and cheese tomorrow night. You should see the wine I got. I don’t even care that it’s supposed to rain all weekend.

Beast: Have you thought about it?

Foodie: Yes. I’d be a stream so that I was always moving and discovering new things.

Beast: Interesting choice. I’d choose the big waterfall because then I’d be huge.

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Brunch at Buca, between the cottage and Thanksgiving

The Beast and I blinked and there went summer, without a vacation together to speak of.

So, last week, I took three days off work. Friday and Saturday I spent with my mom. We did the usual: Costco, Walmart and the Superstore. I got her all stocked up with supplies. At Costco, a woman did a double-take when she saw me, my mom practically willing her to do so, and said: “You look like that girl from The View.”

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The June 2014 cottage edition

After dinner on a recent Friday night at the cottage playing Trivial Pursuit, drunk:

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Foodie: How does USSR appear on the Soviet flag?

Beast: CCP.

Foodie: Nope.  It’s CCCP.

Beast: Unbelievable.

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Recharging with meatloaf and Barolo

I visited my mom this weekend. We had a family gathering with her brothers and sister, plus my cousin Erin and her family. Everybody brought something to eat: Uncle Ron brought two roast chickens and a ham; Aunt Sandy brought her cabbage salad; Aunt Pat and Uncle Jim brought bean salad, butter tarts and lemon squares; Erin brought pasta salad, vegetables and homemade hummus; I brought scalloped potatoes and a selection of kielbasas from Benna’s on Roncesvalles; and my mom provided some sliced meats and cheeses plus a giant white cake from Costco and three coconut cream pies.


I love hearing my mom and siblings talk about growing up in Strathroy. They told a story about how my grandpa Gus tried to get car insurance in his 70s but the broker told him he was too old. Grandpa Gus grabbed the young man by the collar of his shirt and lifted him off the ground. In the end, he got his insurance.

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Seven days: at a cottage, at home and looking for a cat

Day 1: Sunday

After 10 days of covering the Toronto International Film Festival, I file my last piece. Two weeks of holidays, the first I’ve really taken this year, begin. I feel very anxious and don’t know how to come down.

Pick up Nick and Erinn in rental mini-van and then pick up the Beast at work and drive to cottage for mini-summer holiday.

Stop at Five Guys in Vaughn for dinner. Decide to not get pop because of all the carbs.

Arrive at cottage at 10:30pm. Drink one glass of wine and fall asleep on couch. Hear the sounds of the others laughing at me because my hands are clenched into little retarded fists and my mouth is gaping. The sound of laughter is like a performance-enhancing drug. Must make them laugh. Proceed to perform dance horizontally on the couch while half-asleep.

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