This picture was taken directly from a website where they have a live camera set up on the lake. This is about 1/2 mile away from the cottage.
We are never vacationers, as we rarely stay there once his parents are in residence because it's just not that big. But before they arrive, we do spend weekends there and get a small taste of what a cottage has to offer. Now, don't get me wrong, we reap many benefits -- we always have a place to go that is on the lake -- but it's still not the same because we are day-cottage visitors.
This spring when we opened it up, several problems cropped up. First, the water heater was on the fritz, and secondly there was something major-wrong with the bathroom upstairs. We got the first inkling of this when the water was turned on and we were all standing in the kitchen (literally waiting for leaks) when water started pouring down the wall (above the upstairs bathroom.) Peter ran upstairs and I tried to salvage the two drawings my sister-in-law had done who knows when -- they have been on the wall as long as I've been around, and that eclipses 23 years.
So now what? Well, the water heater needed professional help, so we eventually called that in; but the thing with this family is that they are all do-it-yourselfers. So Peter tried to fix the hot water heater himself before he gave up, and he worked on the bathroom for hours. First he made a template of the bottom of the toilet, then cut out a piece of plywood and set it on that. Nope. Still leaked. Then he did the opposite, and cut a hole in the floor and set the toilet in that. (Doesn't that mean that the toilet has not very much between it and say THE KITCHEN?) Anyway, that seemed to take care of that. But the downstairs bathroom is another issue. The toilet rocks. And rolls baby! It is an accident waiting to happen. I happen to have very strong leg muscles, so when it starts to tilt I can stop it. But ... it's as I said, a disaster in waiting.
Sooooo, his brother who lives in Minnesota is more than willing to get to it, and fix 'er up. But, like I said, he's in Minnesota. What needs to be done is the entire bathroom floor needs to be replaced. They intend to do that, but logistics are hard to figure out.
In the past, Peter has always waited for his parent's to arrive and give him guidance on what should or shouldn't be done (when it comes to the big jobs.) While he puts in countless hours puttering around and fixing this and that, he always saves the big jobs for when they come so his father can help and decide the course of action. But this year they are late. And while they have arrived in early July before, they have never been as late as the end of July, which is what looks to be the case this year.
And in the meantime, the stove in the kitchen is really broken. The door broke a few years ago, but Peter's dad fixed it with a contraption of wood -- you just wedge it up against the door and floor and the door stays closed. And honestly, you only trip on it a few million times while you are in their preparing a meal. But it's gone beyond a broken door -- now the oven just plain won't start. And to begin with it's a bit scary: You turn on the gas and hear that click click click click and think OH NO, if it doesn't light soon we're all going to the big bazoom in the sky. Frightening.
Now, the siblings (or those with spare change in their pocketbooks) agree that a new stove is necessary. But it is automatically assumed that Peter will take care of it. Not monetarily, but the work of it. And so, that in turn means it goes to me. Don't you just love the world of family dynamics?
The other night Peter and I were sitting on the porch and the kids were out hanging on the public dock. We could hear them and we knew who they were with, but it was approaching 9:30 and Peter said that he had always had to come in at 9:00, and then maybe he could go out for another hour or so, but he could never stay out beyond 10:00. I've been married to the man forever and I know that he was probably thrilled to go to bed at that hour. It has always been late to him, so I bet that he was like to his friends, "oooh sorry, I HAVE to go home," secretly all the while thrilled to have his head hit the pillow.
Well. As a night person I could never abide by the restraints of time. There is NO ONE THING in the world as wonderful as sitting out under the stars and talking until the sun comes up. So when Maddie came to the porch for some reason or other and Peter said that they needed to come in soon, she was like WHY? And I had to say, I agreed with her! Why? Because he said so? Because that was what always happened when HE was a kid?
So I broached the subject with him, and he was curious as to how long they could stay out? And I said let's see when they come in on their own accord. So we went upstairs to bed at 11:30. Again, we could HEAR them outside, so it was not a big deal. They came in about 10 minutes later. In truth, if there is a rule, then I am going to break it. So yahoo for my kids that the moment I sniff out the potential of a new rule in the making, I am going to swat it down, and perhaps go even further the other way. But I have always believed that if you give your kids freedom they will figure out their own way and it generally is a path straight back to you. At least that has been my experience to date.
So ... anywho, during this discussion of time's past and all, Peter said that it was the first time that he had realized that the general upkeep of the cottage was his responsibility. Now. I have known this for all the years and years that he has been doing it that it was only going to get worse as his parent's contribution lessened with time, but still, he never saw it that way until now. NOW! Wow.
The whole concept of sharing a property like a cottage is really quite interesting. Next door there is a family that has been there for generations, and the brother and sister who inherited it from their parents are now inundated each summer with their children. The sister has one child; the brother has three. The sister's one child is younger and still has no children. The brother's children all have many children! All together there are six grandchildren under the age of 9. Now the sister doesn't want to come up for the summer anymore.
Would you? Would you want to be in a small cottage with six small babies, many of them crying, whining or complaining a good portion of the time?
I personally have avoided the cottage over the years because of a family member (who is now no longer part of the picture, AMEN to divorce) because the old adage one bad apple can spoil the bunch is as true as they come. There are times when you have to weigh the pros and the cons, and if the cons win, then so be it.
We don't have small children running about anymore, but we do have teenagers, who come along with their own set of issues. My sister-in-law just dropped off three boys and left them there for the weekend, and that brings up yet another question: Is that allowed? While they are certainly old enough to be left alone, and while she was pretty confident that there would be other family members there to monitor them, again, is that allowed? I guess what that means is that it is something that I would never do. It wouldn't even cross my mind, and these are kids that choose to not speak with you, for the most part.
Of course it is allowed. Everyone does whatever they want, and they always have. And believe me, there are many, many times I wish that I was in the position of arriving for the weekend to find a clean bed and a seat on the dock and a boat to use and food to eat, and then I just climb into my car and leave the "magic house," where one doesn't have to do anything.
And then again, to have such problems is a luxury!
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