My appetite has excellent timing. It’s been “on leave” for a while. Ironically, my stomach isn’t fond of the food that I like to eat. In fact, my entire digestive tract doesn’t like anything I put down my gullet. Humor me here for a minute: imagine eating a simple meal; it could be toast with peanut butter and a banana with a glass of O.J. in the morning. Or maybe a bowl of soup and tuna sandwich for lunch. Now imagine not feeling the slightest bit hungry when you’re supposed to be eating those meals and a full three hours later you feel as though you’re going to upchuck the sandwich, salad and the full breakfast. These have been the joys (or misfortunes) of my dining experiences as of late. I brought this to my doctor’s attention several months ago. This was followed by some tests, which included drinking the most awful chalky concoction after which I was expertly tipped flat on a cold metal table while having my innards X-ray’d. I’ve even been injecting with radioactive nuclear medicine, which I’ve been assured will not shorten my lifespan nor make me glow in the dark. Neither of these tests has revealed the great mystery of my incredible indigestion. However the doctor decided to put me on a prescription strength anti-acid, which I think has helped my case. I no longer wake up in the middle of the night with the feeling of someone’s fist forcing its way up my esophagus. But the most miraculous improvement has been my appetite and it couldn’t have returned at a better time. Thanksgiving weekend is a glutton’s wet dream come true. It’s the harvest. There is no shortage of good, fresh food. So I decided to embrace the spirit of the holiday and cook and bake for my family while up in prime harvest territory: at the cottage. Saturday’s dinner consisted of chicken stew with chickpeas, sweet and yellow potatoes and sweet onion. We had a fabulous salad of fresh lettuces on the side and not one but TWO pumpkin pies! We only polished off one of the pies, but that meant I could use the dish to bake the most scrumptious apple pie for the Thanksgiving dinner. I decided to pay homage to the slow food movement by making beer-braised beef short ribs, steamed savoy cabbage with roasted chestnuts and garlic mashed potatoes. Yes, I roasted the chestnuts and the garlic. And let’s not forget the pies that came at the end of the meal. It was one of those meals that makes you want to hibernate for the winter or put on a cable-knit sweater and cozy up by a fire. And guess what? Not a single bout of indigestion the entire weekend (you know I’m going to live to regret writing that down). Boy was I thankful this weekend, if for no other reason than I was able to enjoy a good meal with my family for the first time in months. To tell you the truth I would have been just as happy eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich if it meantÂ I could eat without fear of my food revisiting me in the middle of the night. But having a good meal go down certainly doesn’t hurt.
Well our weekend in the Muskokas was cut short. We bailed after less than 24 hours at the cabin. Upon arrival we were literally swarmed by mosquitoes and black flies. The minute we opened the car doors, the bugs began to pour in. Without bug repellant (it was on the other side of the lake in the cabin), I looked like a crazed woman swatting at the air at imaginary demons. My husband doesn’t seem to react to bug bites. I, on the other hand, swell up like a balloon at the tiniest little nibble and then proceed to complain about the constant itchiness.Â While my husband unloaded the half ton of food and multiple bags from the car, I did manage to get the kids across the lake in our dandy new pedal boat, which is not nearly as efficient a mode of transportation as a canoe. Once across, we reached the safety of the cabin. The next couple hours were spent cleaning up (including theÂ discovery an old mouse carcass), putting the food in the battery-powered fridge, which was getting its “juice” from the solar panel, and setting up the beds for the kids. We barbequed that night and had a lovely meal of burgers, corn on the cob and raw veggies & dip. While all of this was going on the kids played out in the forest seemingly unphased by the biting bugs, although they’ve got the welts to prove it. When nightfall came, things changed. The kids eventually fell asleep, but when it was my turn I couldn’t. Somehow the mosquitoes had infiltrated the cabin and spent the entire evening accosting me. I tried hiding out under the bed sheets but began to suffocate. And it didn’t stop the blood suckers from making that awful whiny droning sound in my ear. Then the kids woke up around 3 complaining about the bugs so we moved to a different room WITH both kids in the bed and hoped that a closed door would keep the pesky pests out. By the time morning came, my hands were sore from being bitten and I was exhausted from little to no sleep. And it was raining. And cold. I felt like Susanna Moodie in Roughing It In the Bush; A civilized woman in an inhospitable land suffering from cabin fever.The kids woke up early as usual. My husband built a fire in the stove to heat up the place while I made breakfast (bacon and eggs–as a kid the breakfastÂ I always smelled at the neighbour’s cottage and wished I could have, but never did). My husband apologized and suggested we leave, given the bugs and the weather. I didn’t say no. The kids amused themselves while we tidied up. They even got to go out on the pedal boat with my husband while I cleaned up. So after lunch, in the misty rain, we paddled back across the lake, loaded up the car and the kids, but notÂ before my youngest fell into the lake fully clothed. So my vision of a romantic holiday weekend with the family was not to be fulfilled. Rather than head back to the city, we cut across cottage country to my in-law’s “country condo” where I managed to get a good night’s sleep. In the end it wasn’t a completely wasted trip. I did clean up the makeshift kitchen, which you can see in the pictures. No matter what space you give me, I try my best to make it as homey as possible.
It amazes me how much work is involved in packing for three days up in cottage country. TheÂ to-do list is endless.Â This coming weekend is the Victoria Day Long Weekend in Ontario and, like so many other families,Â we are heading to the cabin. I call it “the cabin” and not “cottage” because right now it’s more akin to a wooden tent than a summer getaway with all the comforts of home. Only recently did said cabin acquire a self-composting toilet, solar panel, and solar powered fridge. Still to come: solar powered water pump and four light fixtures. Right nowÂ our source of lighting appears in the form of candles andÂ hand crankÂ LED lanterns.Â This is all the handiwork of my husband who has dedicated hours of work and hard, physical labour to make the cabin habitable (to more than just the furry rodents who settled down there while the place sat empty for many years).Â Oh yes, and did I mention the property is water access only? That’s right, upon arrival we must steady ourselves for a short paddle across the lake, canoes fully loaded–children, dog, food and clothing. Believe me, I’m no princess, but I do feel the need to have certain comforts and amenities even while roughing it in the bush. There is no shower or tub, so all bathing must happen in the lake. However, in cool weather, such as we are expecting this weekend, we all stink together. A wood-burning stove remains our sole source of heat, along with a fireplace we have yet to use. The only downside to this is our clothing ends up smelling like a campfire, which for some brings back fond memories. I’m sure I will grow to love this place, particularly as the weather warms up and I put my own personal touches into the cabin. That’s something I’ve begun to do, but it is a gradual process and one that requires being budget conscious in the truest sense. In principle I agree with the off-the-grid ideology. In practice, it requires effort and I don’t know that I’ve fully committed myself to it just yet. I’m no Les Stroud. This weekend will be a real test of my mettle. I’ve been doing some reading about cottaging off-the-grid in Cottage Life Magazine, and I believe there is a way to do it withoutÂ feeling as though you’re really going without. Being a bit of a foodie, I do miss having an oven, but maybe I’ll master the barbeque and won’t miss the oven when it’s 35 celsius outside.Â And maybe we’ll get creative and install an outdoor shower one year, able to forgo the indoor plumbing altogether. And candlelight is far more romantic than any LED bulb. Hey, maybe I can do this off-the-grid thing afterall! Now if only we could get rid of the damn bugs.