Category: Photography

I remember back in the day, when a weekend away meant throwing a change of clothes in a bag and a stack of CDs into the front seat.

This is how we pack for a weekend at the cottage with kids:

It was an altogether lovely weekend to be outside. When we arrived, it was in the low 20s and humid, but the air became clear and cool overnight – perfect for campfires, but just a little too cool to take advantage of the campground’s inground pools and hot tub. The little cabin has a playground on one side and on the other side a lovely little rock outcrop, perfect for climbing and for admiring the giant trilliums.

The boys seemed to grow up before my eyes this weekend. They were able to play independently, running in and out of the cabin without overt supervision. They’re finally at an age where I don’t have to hover over them, fretting that they’ll slip on the rocks or fall off a climber. (It helped, of course, that the playground is easily visible from the cabin’s many windows, and that there was always a spare adult around to keep a benevolent eye out.)
There was a wagon ride, an ice-cream social, and a community hot-dog lunch. It’s really a lovely little KOA. I’m as impressed with them this year as I was last year.

I was struck by the friendliness of the children on the playground. (And boy, were there a lot of kids! I’m sure the campground was close to capacity, at least for trailer and RV spaces. It was still on the cool and windy side for tent camping.)

I loved sitting on the edge of the playground, watching Tristan and Simon play with the other kids and listening to the conversations going on. I worry sometimes about Tristan’s sociability, because he doesn’t seem to have a lot of friends at school. But on this playground he was friendly and outgoing, and all the kids played together in one big gang. Tristan in particular seems drawn to the six-to-eight year old boy crowd, while Simon was a hit with the nine-to-twelve year old girl crowd. You’ve got to love a playground that comes with built-in babysitters!

Unfortunately, I didn’t get a picture of the weekend’s other annual highlight, the family Texas Hold’em poker tournament. I really don’t know how the kids slept through the gales of laughter that reduced us to tears, gasping for breath. And for the second year in a row, my mother cleaned our collective clocks. She’s a shark, that one.

The best part? This is only the *beginning* of what promises to be a stellar summer.

We spent Easter weekend with Beloved’s family north of Huntsville. But first, we decorated some eggs.

Mimi and Pipi (a French coloquiallism for Grandmaman and Grandpapa) live on the other side of a gorgeous four and a half hour drive through Algonquin Provincial Park. The boys were so good that I now have no residual concerns about doing this for two days in a row to get to Bar Harbour.

The menfolk agreed that Mimi makes a specacular trifle for dessert.

And slept well on a full belly.

The next day, we tried to make it to an Easter Egg and candy hunt in a neighbouring town. We hadn’t anticipated the snow that fell during our visit, and we were underdressed for the unexpectedly outdoor egg hunt. To add insult to injury, we were maybe 10 minutes late in arriving, and by the time we wandered the arena field, trudging with chattering teeth and woefully underdressed for the 10 cm of fresh snow, we couldn’t find a single piece of candy. The boys were surprisingly good-natured about it, placated by my promise of more candy later in the weekend and anxious simply to get back into the still-warm car.

Cranky, cold and muttering unpleasantries under my breath, we loaded the boys into the car. My mother-in-law had entered their names into a draw, and as I stepped over to the draw table to keep her company, two young girls – maybe eight or nine years old – came up to the car and asked if they could give the boys some candy. They had lots, they said, and noticed that the boys had none. And when one of the girls’ names was drawn, she selected a small prize of a magnetic drawing board (dollar store variety) and brought it directly to Tristan in the car. And then Simon’s name was drawn and I scooped up a Wiggles story book for him.

I was so moved by the kindness of these young girls that I blinked away tears of gratitude as we drove away.

And while a snowy day is not the best for an outdoor Easter Egg hunt when you are dressed for spring rain, it’s great for maple syrup – so we made our next stop a pancake (and sausage and egg and homefries) breakfast at the local sugar shack.

Lest you think I exaggerated the bit about the snow, this is Mimi’s “Easter Tree” dusted in the 15 cm (6″) of snow that fell during the weekend. We had a green Christmas this year and a snowy Easter. Go figure.

Ironically, while we were heading east across the province, my brother and his family made a comparable, but more southerly, drive from Toronto to spend the weekend in Ottawa for Easter. Luckily, we came home in time to spend a day with them.

Simon with his four-month old cousin, Brooke:

Tristan, Simon and Noah playing Cars, doing laps around my mother’s patio table:

So while I’m officially sick of my relatives and turkey (had turkey dinner with Mimi and Pipi on Friday, turkey sandwiches for dinner on Saturday and another full turkey dinner with the rest of my family on Sunday)I couldn’t imagine a more lovely weekend. Well, 15 degrees warmer and a winning lottery ticket would have been nice, but why quibble?