Lovely blog world.
Today, I return to you after a couple weeks of silence. A glorious two weeks for me, which I spent in my little piece of heaven, my slice of paradise, my one true love and favourite place in the world, Kosh Lake.
As per usual, I had an absolutely brilliant time up at the cottage, and have returned home a little sad, but extremely revitalized and fulfilled. I was just on the phone with a friend, and described my time at the lake as this little bubble, where nothing ever changes. Thats not entirely true, of course. The people remain mostly the same, but we grow up year by year. And although each of my Ontario Summers consists of the same ingredients of sing-songs, skiing, swimming, double-kneeboarding, tubing, drinking, dancing, and catching up, the recipe always turns out a little bit different.
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| dubz kneebz is a huge tradition. This year's updates included a midride board switch and backflips. |
Spicing things up this year was an international flair. Kevin, one of my beloved cottage neighbours, spent the past year going to school in Denmark, and brought back 4 delightful Danes with him when he came home. Kasper, Johannes, Matias and Rasmus were so much fun to have around, and definitely put a welcomed spin on things. Also visiting the Duerr family this year was Pauline from Berlin. She and I hit it off pretty quick, making official our cottage-friendship by jumping off High Rock together. Pauline was such a sweet and fun-loving gal, and I hope to someday visit her in that far off country of hers. Steven, the older Duerr brother, was also up and around a bit more this year than others, which was great. I was super happy to have him around. And so we had a bit of a youthful crowd up this year, rounded out by my little cousins Kamryn and Carter, a couple friends of theirs, and always a cottage girl, Emma from next-door. My girl Karley came up for our second weekend, and it was awesome, as I knew it would be.
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| Me and Pauline hanging out in the Duerr's basement |
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| Me and the Danish boys! |
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| The Kell kids and the Duerr brothers <3 |
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| Emma and Kamryn. Cottage Girls forever! |
The rest of my cottage crew remained mostly the same. My cousin Sean joined us at the lake for the first summer in a few, which was a delight, and as always, my cousin Rick and his wife Nicole were up and down in the midst of their busy lives. Cap'n Ron held down the fort as always, and we got to catch up with our long time cottage buddies, Steve, Bill, Leanne and Linda. The "soul sisters", my mom, myself and my Dad's two sisters, Roz and Marci made our gang official this summer with matching jewelry. We all wore our necklaces all trip long, and I've yet to take mine off. Along the same line, friendship bracelets were a huge hit this year, and I'm happy to note that my little sneaky cottage connections will be alive and well on some precious Oakville inhabitants, in a fancy financial office in Toronto, wandering around France, Denmark and Germany, braving a new school in Brooklin, and here in classic White Rock.
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| Cousinly Action! |
Its always hard for me to adapt back to life in White Rock after having such a magical stay at Kasshabog. Its always the same the first morning back home: I wake up slowly, and the moment I realize I'm no longer in Ontario start the day with some carelessly chosen curse word. The last few days at the lake are always hard too, with that bittersweet sense to them as I know I'll be leaving soon. I'm always in such a rush those last days to soak things up, to squeeze every little memory in, knowing it will have to last me an entire year before I'm back again.
Ever since I started this blog, I've wanted to share my favourite poem of one of my favourite poets, "Blackberry Picking" by Seamus Heaney. For a long while, I figured it would fit in as a summer post, simply because thats its temporal setting. After my cottage experience, however, I've realized that choosing to share it now makes even more sense. I feel so connected to the closing lines of the poem, as if the speaker wrote them about my final cottage days.
Here, give it a read, and then I'll elaborate.
Late August, given heavy rain and sun
For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
Among others, red, green, hard as a knot.
You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet
Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it
Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for
Picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger
Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam-pots
Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.
Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills
We trekked and picked until the cans were full,
Until the tinkling bottom had been covered
With green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned
Like a plate of eyes. Our hands were peppered
With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard's.
We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre.
But when the bath was filled we found a fur,
A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache.
The juice was stinking too. Once off the bush
The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour.
I always felt like crying. It wasn't fair
That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot.
Each year I hoped they'd keep, knew they would not.
There's obviously a whole lot going on in this poem, and not every bit of it reflects my annual lake experience, but certain bits of it definitely do. Throughout the poem, there is a sense that this event of sorts takes place year after year, something almost everyone can relate too. The line "I always felt like crying" really drives this sense home for me, the choice of the word "always" indicating a repeated emotion, despite its irrationality. Again, the speaker's description of feeling this way "each year" emphasizes the sense of repetition and even return.
"Each year I hoped they'd keep, knew they would not".
The juxtaposition of hoping and knowing is soooo melancholy here and just breaks my heart. Its this line that struck a chord with me from the start, and now, in connection to the piece of my heart the cottage carries year through, I feel even more strongly about it.
To lighten the mood a bit before closing, another cottage constant is that I come back home, without fail, addicted to some piece of music that I would usually despise, or at least be annoyed by. It'll get played on a boat ride, or at a party, or performed by someone, and the second its connected to my lake life I fall in love with it. Gems from past years include "Holiday" by Green Day, "Beautiful Girls" by Sean Kingston, and last summer "I Know You Want Me" by Pitbull.
This summer, I especially regret to admit that my artist of choice is Rihanna. (Shut up Kirstin). Redeeming me somewhat though, is the fact that the lyrics of this particular song are pretty cool:
"Sound is my remedy/Feeding me energy/Music is all I need"
Give it a listen. It might make you want to dance.
Next post: All the crappy books I read while I was away!
