Friday, August 17, 2007
Monday, August 13, 2007
Port Maitland is starting to feel pretty comfortable: both the house and the neighbourhood. It's been a while since I've lived in a small village, and it's a social way to live. PM is not a place where you could draw your drapes and live an isolated existence. Well, I suppose you could, but why would you? People would talk about you even more.
Dad has lived here for years (he was born here, then spent a while [all his adult life] in the Big Smoke, but he's been back here since late in the last century), so folks had a lot of advance information about the new residents at 23 Charles St. They know all about us, and watched with interest while Dad haunted the place waiting for us to arrive. Our neighbours are great -- they know everything about the area, who to call for what, where to find what you need -- and we've had some great bonfires at our place and across the street at Gail and Buck's place. Abby and Ross, at the corner, keep an eye on who is coming and going, and when we got ready to mow the lawn for the first time, there was a full quorum present to observe and advise.
My sister Laurie (the actual homeowner) and my nephew Will arrived about a week ago, and since then, she's sorted out a lot more of the stuff that needed organizing -- creating some order in the pantry and the kitchen, sorting out the bedroom linen, deciding where the flip flops will be chucked, getting a plastic bucket positioned at the back door to wash the sand off when you come up from the beach....all the important cottage-type details. (In Ontario, they're called Cottages, in NS, they're called Camps. No one knows why, this just is.)
We've had some great beach walks. I have declined thus far to go in the water - I left my wetsuit in Antigua. Even with the wetsuit, it's a dodgy idea. The water is shockingly freezing at all times. Your ankles start screaming at you well before your tender bits know what's in store. Laur has a shorty wetsuit, and even then she's wringing her frozen hands and wrists when she gets out.
I'll wait for a swim until we get back to the Caribbean. See below for pics of Port Maitland, and one of a great dinner we had with David Hartman (Amanzi) when he sailed through Halifax.
Dad has lived here for years (he was born here, then spent a while [all his adult life] in the Big Smoke, but he's been back here since late in the last century), so folks had a lot of advance information about the new residents at 23 Charles St. They know all about us, and watched with interest while Dad haunted the place waiting for us to arrive. Our neighbours are great -- they know everything about the area, who to call for what, where to find what you need -- and we've had some great bonfires at our place and across the street at Gail and Buck's place. Abby and Ross, at the corner, keep an eye on who is coming and going, and when we got ready to mow the lawn for the first time, there was a full quorum present to observe and advise.
My sister Laurie (the actual homeowner) and my nephew Will arrived about a week ago, and since then, she's sorted out a lot more of the stuff that needed organizing -- creating some order in the pantry and the kitchen, sorting out the bedroom linen, deciding where the flip flops will be chucked, getting a plastic bucket positioned at the back door to wash the sand off when you come up from the beach....all the important cottage-type details. (In Ontario, they're called Cottages, in NS, they're called Camps. No one knows why, this just is.)
We've had some great beach walks. I have declined thus far to go in the water - I left my wetsuit in Antigua. Even with the wetsuit, it's a dodgy idea. The water is shockingly freezing at all times. Your ankles start screaming at you well before your tender bits know what's in store. Laur has a shorty wetsuit, and even then she's wringing her frozen hands and wrists when she gets out.
I'll wait for a swim until we get back to the Caribbean. See below for pics of Port Maitland, and one of a great dinner we had with David Hartman (Amanzi) when he sailed through Halifax.