a peek inside the fishbowl

Perhaps it’s the rainy weather but I am scattered and restless today. My morning looked a bit like this: I read a few pages of  a book, put it down, walked around the house, picked away at a few things, forgot what I was doing, watered a plant, cleaned a toilet, looked something up on the internet, answered an email, bought tickets to some local art & museum exhibitions… etc. Ugh. WHERE IS THE TRANQUILITY I HAVE BEEN BANKING???

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First of all, let’s talk about how lucky we were to snag the only yurt, at Achray, in Algonquin Park, during a pandemic year. It was a minor miracle. There it is, nestled down there by the water.

We’ve been to Achray before, both tenting and in the yurt but boy, was I glad we booked the yurt this year. Having a yurt means no tent set up and take down. The yurt is more stable than a tent, so no worrying about the weather, which was top of mind considering we drove through torrential rain on the way there. The rainfall was so severe that we pulled over to the side of the highway to wait out the worst of it.

You’d think that this kind of deluge wouldn’t be a very auspicious beginning to a camping trip, but it actually was. This year we got a bit of everything, from single digit temperatures in the evening to scorching hot moments on the trail, from pouring rain to a lake that was as still as a mirror. It was a veritable grab bag of weather and honestly, it just made for a more interesting trip.

Check-in at the yurt was at 4 p.m., a bit later than the tenting check-in for some reason. I’m not sure if this is typical or if it’s just because of Covid. I was just grateful that we didn’t have to set up a tent on a soggy campsite! The inside of the yurt was on the damp side. That torrential downpour had obviously reached here too. The rain covering on the front window had come loose and the floor and two of the mattresses were wet. (The rain must have been coming down sideways for that to happen! Wild.) This was no biggie, since the mattresses are covered in a sheet that is easily wiped down.

Before we left for our camping trip I looked up reviews of Achray campground online and found some one and two-star reviews which were along the lines of: “Nothing to do, no internet, too many squirrels, dirt roads, too quiet.” Essentially, all the reason we love it.

Achray is the place of my dreams. Honestly. During sad or stressful times this is the kind of happy place to which I mentally  transport myself.

The yurt is right on the water, amid a mix of tall pines and deciduous canopy. Birds chirping, loons calling, leaves rustling, fire crackling – plus almost zero cell service – this is where true relaxation happens.

Things I love about Achray:

• It is very quiet. It’s radio-free. There are very few boats on the lake and the ones that are allowed are low HP. Plus, the type of campers who come here don’t care if there aren’t any hot showers, cell service, and laundry facilities.
• When I originally wrote this thought out  (old-school, in a notebook), lapping water and the breeze in the trees were the only sounds I could discern. And these were interrupted by the sound of a family member quietly turning a page in her book.

Camping with young adults is very different from camping with kids. Nowadays we are much less worried about them burning themselves on a roasting stick or accidentally clobbering the other sibling with an oar (both of which are things that have happened in our family). Of course, we still worry, but not very much. They pretty much take care of themselves.

Instead of building sandcastles at the beach we all relax in the sun, occasionally wading in the water to cool down. They entertain themselves and don’t need an eagle eye on them at all times. They help out when asked. Instead of juice boxes we enjoy beer, cider, and canned cocktails (okay, we still drink juice but you know what I mean).

Some things, however, remain the same: hiking and nature sightings and games of Uno by lamplight and chats around the fire.

This year the girls gleefully pointed out that THEY are now the ones who now help us parents across the typical sticky situations often encountered on hiking trails such as slippery, muddy, flooded areas that are best avoided. “Follow me, mumma,” said the youngest as she and I navigated along some slippery rocks at High Falls. “Just step where I step.”

I will say this, it was very nice to have a steady hand to hold onto when I needed one.

More to come! I’m slowly compiling my photos on Flickr, so stay tuned for that too. :)

We’ve just returned from a camping trip to Algonquin Provincial Park. I was so tired last night I could barely finish my dinner. Today, we are slowly unpacking and putting away our gear, sorting photos, doing laundry, and slathering Benadryl on our bug bites. I will say this for now, it was one of the best camping trips we’ve had and will be tough to top. More to come!

Here we are, July 7. I remember when I was first sent home from the office in March 2020. I packed a bag and as I closed the door behind me I thought to myself: how long can this thing last, anyway? Two years ago today, the youngest daughter and I were far far far away, on a monumental trip to Thailand. One year ago today, I was working from my home office. I still am, actually. Since then we’ve been muddling through the best we can. I’m happy to report that although this thing is not over I feel hopeful that things are finally heading in the right direction. Good things are happening!

Both Mark and I have had both our second vaccinations. Each daughter has had one, with their second doses coming up this month.

In other good news: we have had RESTAURANT MEALS ON PATIOS. The first one was to celebrate Father’s Day. We made a reservation at Woodenheads** in Kingston, a place we’d been to many times.

** I should point out that the Covid protocols were A+ here, by the way, but I’m haunted a bit by the fact you had to ask a server to use the washroom because I don’t really even know why. I think it’s because they only have one or two washrooms and they are singles? Maybe in a confined area? Thankfully, my bladder was exceptionally strong that evening, but I did worry. (This is weird of me, I know, but it’s like I was transported back to first grade or something. Or French class. “Excusez moi Madame mais est-ce que je peux aller aux toillettes s’il vous plaît ?”)

It’s very likely that you have an image of the four of us raising our glasses and toasting the fact that we were all together, in a restaurant, on a patio, after months of takeout on lockdown. Smiles as wide as our faces! Laughter ringing through the restaurant! Good cheer and good food! Bravo! We made it!

While we were certainly happy to be enjoying quality pizza as we always do, we actually forgot to make any formal acknowledgement or declarations. We ordered drinks, chatted, ate our dinner, and then walked down the street for gelato as if nothing happened. I thought our first visit would be a celebration. Instead, it was just a… nice dinner as a family. Isn’t that strange? It wasn’t until much later that I was like, hey, that was the first time in a long time! I didn’t even take a photo. (!!)

Mark and I went to another patio here in the Ottawa area recently. Unfortunately, although we did raise a glass, I had had my vaccination the day before and was feeling woozy. It was also hot, and I was drinking diet Pepsi because I was feeling so crappy. All that to say, I will use this opportunity to myself that the post-pandemic patio experience should be enjoyed for what it is, and not built up in our minds too much. Seriously. All year I’ve been thinking PATIO. PATIO. PATIOoooooo. It was my mantra. It was one of the things I missed the most about being on lockdown. I missed the patio experience, but also just simply having the option to hit a patio, know what I mean?

In other news, I went on a wee spending spree in relation to our back deck. I went to Home Depot and bought a new plant and a planter. It was fun driving home! (And by “fun” I mean “not fun at all.”)

… and here it is, in situ:

I also bought a $50 outdoor candle at Homesense. Please refrain from judgement. I really wasn’t myself that day.

I admit it’s a terribly expensive candle, but it is hefty, and in a nice pot which can be reused. It has three wicks and shines so brightly I fully expect it to damage my vision. It’s a citronella candle, and it smells like coconuts, which I love. The sad part of this story, other than the fact my wallet is $50 lighter, is that Mark hates the smell of it and I may never get to light it in his presence. Sigh.