|The start of our six hour burn in the rain.|
Taken: September 7th, 2013
The season's rapidly changing. With my suntan lotion tucked away, my plethora of warm fuzzy socks have bolted into action.
After golf Friday, I landed at the cottage at dusk to officially enjoy our first time Fall(ish) fired woodstove.
Both exhausted, we literally slept around the clock into Saturday. With the fire in the woodstove keeping us toasty, we couldn't care less that we woke to rain mid-morning.
It was dreary and brisk outside, but nothing that couldn’t be endured; so right before lunch, we headed up the hill to clear the upper part of our property.
Even though we had company drop over throughout the afternoon, I still kept puttering. Tony entertained the troupes, and I hauled and burned dead crap for six whole hours.
Then, at dusk, I dove in the lake.
Knowing it was going to be my last swim of the year, I followed tradition and made it memorable. As I dove in the last few times (sans my swimming apparell) my husband declared me "insane" and bolted up to the cottage for another beer and hot shower.
I can't lie. It was cold. CRAZY cold! But growing up swimming in Lake Temiscaming, I have always been able to endure the cold water better than my spouse. I’m not going to say that he whines about lake water being cold, because the noise he makes tends to be more of a whimper really. It’s just not his thing. I get that.
|Snapped in the pouring rain.|
RIGHT before my man barrelled
up the hill for a hot shower!
Taken: Sep 7th, 2013
For me, swimming after Labour Day is just an added bonus that signals the end of yet another season. Yesterday found me hot and sweaty (not in a good way) all afternoon, and last evening, the water was calling my name.
Cold to the core, I quickly slipped up the stairs. Then into my jammies I jumped, and in front of the fire I planted my seriously shivering carcass.
I must say, there’s something to be said for the sound of a fire and the serenity it offers me. It's like it sparks a personal warmth, as well as a fire within.
That, and the fact that I am grateful the stinking woodstove quickly took the numbness out of my entire body.
Shhh... No one tell Tony I said that. Because I really hate his day old "I told ya so" routine.