Monday, August 22, 2005

Closing time!

I feel like I don't know how to write anymore. All sorts of food-related thoughts are swimming in my brain, and I can't trouble myself to articulate them yet. It's temporary. Here's a list of other stuff, for now:

The Good: I painted the bathroom! Now the peeling paint no longer makes it look like the walls are growing barnacles.

The Bad: I farked up my shoulder from holding the paint roller in too many awkward positions. Since I've been doing weight training at the gym, this surprises me. I shouldn't cripple so easily.

The Ugly: The aforementioned walls, before painting. I wish I had taken pictures - they were worthy of a documentary on sea life. Yuck!

The Good: We're going to the cottage tomorrow!

The Bad. We're closing the cottage tomorrow. This means a) no more cottage until next year, and b) I have to try and put shutters up with my farkified shoulder. Wah.

The Ugly: The water levels. So many weeds.

Here's why: About ten years ago, some rich-bitch inconsiderate arses who own entire islands out on Georgian Bay, and go down our river to get to their cottages, decided that our river should be dredged. This would deepen the channel and enable their speedboats to speed even faster past our sleepy little docks with tiny rowboats, to say nothing of the children swimming happily off those sleepy little docks.

My mother complained loudly, alienating more than one member of the Harbour Association, of which both islanders and river people were members. Mom said to the islanders, "So, essentially, you want our river to be your highway." They replied, "Yes. Exactly."

Grrr.

At the meeting where the dredging would be voted on, several river dwellers voiced their disapproval by boycotting. Sadly, this meant that the vote passed. The river was dredged, and the folks who did it didn't cart the stuff away as promised. Instead, they dumped it along the banks of the river. So now, with record-low water level in the Bay and connecting rivers, the shallow river edge is shallower, weed-choked, and unnavigable. I can't even row along the shore like I did when I was young.

Stupid mean rich cottagers. Bah.

Oh well, at least I have a cottage. I'll miss the river so much, even more now that I've decided to keep the cottage on the rock. I get a little chokey every year when we leave for the last time each summer.

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