Building The Love Shack

The drive starts out with take a left at the stop sign and drive ten minutes down to the red light. Take another left at the red light and drive past restaurant row. When you come to the red light where the Tim Horton’s is, make a right and stay on that road.  In five minutes you are out of the city…. Ahhhhh

That’s the beginning to the escape to the Love Shack.

When I first started driving to the Love Shack, I use to hurry to get there. Now, when I take that drive, it has become part of the joy of going to the cottage.

Now, my drive looks more like the Sunday Drives I used to take with my grandparents. I always wondered why my grandfather drove so slow, and he seemed to take the backs roads to everywhere. Now I know why.

The first part of the drive, I past the farms with the animals out in the pastures and the farmers working their fields. Then I drive along the Grand River. The fishermen are usually out in their waders, fly fishing. Soon I hit the small town of Cayuga, with its beautiful old homes and manicured lawns.

Once I cross the historical bridge, I can see the wind turbines, and I know I am half way there.

Along this journey, the speed limits changes several times, dropping from eighty kilometers to forty in many places, while going through small town, with population of less than three hundred. There is always a car behind me in a hurry, I stay the speed limit and let them pass. I watch their agitated faces when they fly by me as soon as they can pass.

I am now on the last stretch of the road. At the end of the road is the lake.

About five minutes before I reach the lake, I can see it ahead of me. The blue of the water with the sunlight reflecting off of the water, looking like diamonds in the water.

 

 

Two more turns and I am at the Love Shack. But first, there is the drive along the lake. I can see the water breaking against the rocks, the Seagulls and the Canadian Geese are sitting on the water. With the window down, I can hear the water breaking and the call of the Seagulls.

 

 

Two more turns and I am in the driveway. There she sits, our seventy three year old lady, who requires lots of attention and lots of love, other wise known as work. It’s a different kind of work, it’s a labor of love.

I am in no hurry a long the way to get there, I have learned to enjoy the drive, like we have learned to enjoy the work once we get there. There is no rush at the cottage. There is no rush to get there.  I have become the Sunday Driver.