Treasures of my childhood
Getting home and all set up after a 4 ½ day weekend is always a shlepp, so I decided to write the blog now before closing up my equipment. Otherwise it gets too late, and I get complaints from my readers; “I had to wait up so late for the blog.” So it’s not a full day account, but it will have to do. Sitting out on the balcony watching 2 kayaks pass by is only a minor distraction.
Susie called 3 times today (so far) to tell us how she’s melting rom the heat in town. Gilly had his shoes, socks and t-shirt off and ventured as far as touching the surface of the lake. He didn’t proceed any further although he admitted it was warm, but then again, he was never known to be a lake swimmer. He much prefers a heated pool. But going so far as to entertain the notion of swimming today gives a clear picture of the heat and humidity up here in the Laurentien mountains, so you can just imagine poor Susie’s plight (and ours when we reach Montreal sometime soon).
It was tough getting to sleep last night; even Gilly felt the heat. Gilly had a mediocre day today. He was listless, but managed to get one walk, his ball exercises and the weights under his belt. The final drop in Decadron dose started last night, so I expected fatigue. I swam, and swam and swam some more; the only way to stay cool.
Liylah doesn’t cry as much anymore when I swim, but she has a new habit; raiding buffets along the way. Sharon had set out a lovely cheese platter in the backyard a couple of doors down from us. Liylah had no qualms about helping herself to some cheese as she strolled by while keeping an eye on me as I swam my way along the shore.
Just before getting myself set up for blogging (a new age verb) I took a very long swim in a different direction. I passed old houses belonging to new inhabitants (renovated to varying extents). The lake resembled a mirror; shimmering blue, green and white reflections decorated the smooth surface. I allowed myself to relax, hypnotized by the magnificent sight. My mind went back in time. I pictured Lubarsky’s pier filled with kids spending their days fishing. I remembered Fred and Donnie casting poor Joey into the lake by accident (Fred promises it wasn’t on purpose and assures me that Donnie would attest to this). So many stories…so much history…Not a sign of the Lubarsky’s, Garber’s, Steinberg’s anymore…a whole row of houses with children about to make their own memories of Birch Point. This magical place is dripping with jewels from the treasure box of my childhood. Hope we get back here on Thursday. We’ll see…one day at a time.
Susie called 3 times today (so far) to tell us how she’s melting rom the heat in town. Gilly had his shoes, socks and t-shirt off and ventured as far as touching the surface of the lake. He didn’t proceed any further although he admitted it was warm, but then again, he was never known to be a lake swimmer. He much prefers a heated pool. But going so far as to entertain the notion of swimming today gives a clear picture of the heat and humidity up here in the Laurentien mountains, so you can just imagine poor Susie’s plight (and ours when we reach Montreal sometime soon).
It was tough getting to sleep last night; even Gilly felt the heat. Gilly had a mediocre day today. He was listless, but managed to get one walk, his ball exercises and the weights under his belt. The final drop in Decadron dose started last night, so I expected fatigue. I swam, and swam and swam some more; the only way to stay cool.
Liylah doesn’t cry as much anymore when I swim, but she has a new habit; raiding buffets along the way. Sharon had set out a lovely cheese platter in the backyard a couple of doors down from us. Liylah had no qualms about helping herself to some cheese as she strolled by while keeping an eye on me as I swam my way along the shore.
Just before getting myself set up for blogging (a new age verb) I took a very long swim in a different direction. I passed old houses belonging to new inhabitants (renovated to varying extents). The lake resembled a mirror; shimmering blue, green and white reflections decorated the smooth surface. I allowed myself to relax, hypnotized by the magnificent sight. My mind went back in time. I pictured Lubarsky’s pier filled with kids spending their days fishing. I remembered Fred and Donnie casting poor Joey into the lake by accident (Fred promises it wasn’t on purpose and assures me that Donnie would attest to this). So many stories…so much history…Not a sign of the Lubarsky’s, Garber’s, Steinberg’s anymore…a whole row of houses with children about to make their own memories of Birch Point. This magical place is dripping with jewels from the treasure box of my childhood. Hope we get back here on Thursday. We’ll see…one day at a time.
posted by Gilly at 6:27 PM
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