Our Cottage

Our Cottage,

During breakfast, we could hear the thunder off in the distance and, after my husband had left for work, I sat with a cup of hot, instant orange capuchino listening to the rain approach.      It rustled the trees, pitted the lake, washed the dust from the hosta lilies and settled into a comforting drippetty-drip-drip on our cottage roof. Off in the distance, the Doppler effect turned a trains whistle into a mournful wail.     The peepers syncronized their tempo with the rain and all was copesthetic.      I like to sit in the old spring rocker at our cottage and smell the damp earth and fragrance of the lilies as the birds begin to twitter.  I was feeling thankful that I didn’t have to commute 40-minutes into work–a drive my husband doesn’t seem to mind.  I welcomed the gentle rain because the flora needed the sustenance and usually if it rains before seven, it shines by eleven.  It was going to be a hot, sultry summer day.      We built our cottage in 1977 and enjoy it three out of the four seasons of the year. If we keep the windows closed, we can bask in the early spring and late fall sun, but during the summer, we open all the windows to let the breeze keep us cool.  I’m a relaxed cottage keeper.  As long as I stay ahead of the cobwebs with an occasional vacuuming of the rug and mopping of the cement slab, I don’t worry about dust bunnies.      Through the French doors on the north side of the cottage, we have a small patio with a wooden-slat bench.  After an afternoon of weeding the small salad garden, I like to sweep this patio and then sit on the bench to wait for my husband to return.  Sipping an iced cammomile tea, with a sprig of fresh mint from our garden in it, makes the wait seem short.       On really hot days, we’ll change into our swim suits as soon as he gets home and follow the brick path to the lake.  It is quite refreshing to stand in cool water up to our necks and chat about the day.  Sometimes we’ll float around in inner-tubes until the charcoal fire is perfect for grilling barbecue chicken and roasting the corn on the cob.  Can s’mores be far behind?      After dinner there are the usual maintainance chores and we’re apt to go for another swim before bed.      Sometimes the tree toads’ shrill trills of mating, keep me awake at night.  I’ll get up and sit in my favorite spring chair and soak up the marvelous difference of night and day at the cottage.  Eventually, my husband will come down and we’ll stroll hand-in-hand back to bed.      Oh, did I forget to tell you where our paradise cottage and lake are?  The neighbors might tell you that we never leave home; that we’re always on our porch or in our swimming pool.Now, iif I hadn’t told you, none would be the wiser!    UP-DATE:     In October, 2011, we began to renovate our porch into a truly fabulous cottage.  We added on a 14’x16’ cement pad for a hot tub and enclosed the whole thing to our cottage to be used year ‘round.  There is nothing like our home, sweet home. NOTE:  A version of this first appeared in my column “Cornucopia” September 9, 199 in the Wayne County STAR newspaper.