We're Buying a Boat!

The last couple of weeks have been SO exciting...

Since moving to the lakehouse, Hubby and I have wanted to buy a boat.  We love being on the water, whether we're swimming, canoeing, or just goofing off in our inflatable raft, which may or may not have been designed for children.  We even own a small Fireball sailboat (designed for racing), that we bought for $1000 in our early twenties, but after a hilariously disastrous river sailing catastrophe (which ended with a treacherous hike through the woods - never a good sign when the intended activity was sailing), we lost enthusiasm for sailing.  We really pined for a larger boat to take out onto Lake Superior so we can tool around the islands, go on little camping trips, travel around to different harbors in Canada and the States, and park at marinas for nights when there are fireworks and live music.  If I'm being honest, I just wanted take a boat into town for a grocery run because it would be funny and seems like the thing to do when you live on a lake!  While we feverishly saved for home improvements, though, buying a boat remained one of those "someday" things - until my family's tragedy last May.

What happened sparked a desire in me to make some changes and to be really honest with myself about what I wanted in life and what was important to me.  Hubby and I talked a lot about plans for the future and, while we're still figuring things out, some of our plans, ruminating, and dreams are coming to fruition - among them:  spending more time on the water (away from the internet, phone and TV), exploring Lake Superior.
We're buying a boat!

Not this one.

Originally we wanted a powerboat, largely because that's what everyone on our bay has, but the cost of fuel (and the idea of consuming so much fuel, when we already drive a diesel-guzzling Ram 2500) made us a little nauseous.  Instead, we started warming up to sailboats again (we don't learn).  We decided 30 feet was a nice size: not too big to handle and maneuver, but plenty of room for sleeping, a little washroom, and a teeny kitchen.  Because new 30-foot sailboats can be expensive, we focused our search on older boats, from the 1960s-1980s. 

Once we decided to take the plunge, we started looking online for available boats.  We found quite a few contenders in the Toronto area, so we contemplated a road trip there to do some boat shopping.  I wanted to buy a boat and sail it home, but Hubby decided that a month long sailing voyage over the Great Lakes was just too epic a journey for us - probably smart, given our sailing track record.  The cost of shipping a boat home, or having a trailer built so we could tow it, started to feel overwhelming and, frankly, neither of us was in the mood to travel to Toronto.  Sadly, the city conjures unpleasant memories for me now, which breaks my heart because I spent all of my childhood summers there.

To save money, and heartache, we decided to buy a boat locally.  But we looked at the only two for sale that fit our criteria and were really disappointed!  The first needed a ton of work and the second was under a tarp when we viewed it, so it seemed so dark and dated - although the teak woodwork was impeccable.

Disappointed but undeterred, we set aside our concerns, hopped in the truck and headed to Toronto the next day.  The journey was really emotional for me, but I can't avoid the city forever so in some ways it was good to go there, but have a distracting mission to focus on. 

We made appointments with boat brokers and boat owners and saw as many boats as we could.  At first it was discouraging because my top contender, a 1960s Grampion with a tiny wood burning stove (photographed below), turned out to be a huge disappointment!  Almost all of the "woodwork" was faux wood-look melamine, plus it was so painfully tiny.  We quickly realized that a lot of boats photographed better than they looked in person.

With each viewing, though, we learned a TON and we narrowed down what we wanted: definitely no smaller than 30 feet, a beam (width) of at least 10 or 11 feet, a shallow draft to fit into our bay, a table that folds away completely for more room to move around...

Along the way, we drove to Sarnia where I fell in love with an incredible 35 foot "Finnsailer," built in Finland by Fiskars in the 1970s!  It needed major work but it was SO cool.  Even Hubby, who originally called it "an ugly little thing," fell hard after seeing it in person.  It was huge inside and had a pale aqua bathroom sink(!), tons of storage, lots of beautiful teak, and the cutest little retro stove.  It still had the original melamine plates and cups sold with the boat, with their own custom designed cubbies.  It was in rough shape, but had so much potential to be something really incredible.  There aren't many of them in North America and I liked how unique it was.

Unfortunately, it was already under contract when we saw it, but I'm so glad we could tour it anyway!  My photos didn't really turn out, but the one below shows the adorable stove (some Finnsailers came with bright orange stoves).  This video tour of a Finnsailer 35 is super thorough, if you're curious about the boat of my dreams (although the boat in the video is missing it's original stove).  I want to keep my eyes peeled and maybe someday, down the road, restore one of these gems to make my late Finnish Grandpa, who loved fishing on Lake Superior in sketchy boats, proud. 

After touring a ton of boats, we narrowed it down to a specific kind of boat: a Ticon 30, which is - don't laugh! - the second boat we'd seen locally, before we left for Toronto.  We viewed one in Toronto and saw what a Ticon 30 could look like restored.  We almost bought that one, until an inspection revealed major water damaged.

With that last disappointment, we ran out of time and Hubby had to get back to work.  Somewhat miffed, but feeling SO much more knowledgeable about boat-buying, we returned home empty-handed.

We decided to take a look at the Ticon 30 for sale in our city again.  And you know what?  It looked a lot better!  It needs some aesthetic work, to be sure, but it's in great condition and has been maintained well.  We had a boat survey done last week and are just waiting on the results before completing the purchase.  Unless any major damage/problem is revealed, we're taking the plunge and buying it!

4,000 kilometers, four hotels, countless boat marinas, a truck repair, and a flat tire later, we came full circle and committed to purchasing the second boat we saw, in our hometown.

C'est la vie!

On the bright side, we found every delicious, lakeside burger joint in Southern Ontario and stuffed our faces with juicy burgers and tasty sweet potato fries for a week!  We truly didn't have much time for anything other than looking at boats and logging a too short visit with my Aunt and Uncle (and the kiddos), but we made time for some relaxing, lakeside meals together.  And Costco.  We always make time for Costco.

I bet that, at this point, you're curious to see the boat we might be buying?  I didn't take many photos of any boats we looked at because to access these boats we had to climb up incredibly tall, teetering ladders so I always left my purse - and camera! - in the car.  It never dawned on me that these boats wouldn't be in the water, so I wasn't quite prepared for the feats of strength.

I managed to snap a few photos of the Ticon 30 with my phone.  I love its wood floor and that incredible, teak drop-down table (so many of them had table bases bolted to the floor).

If the purchase goes through, I can rip off the tarp and share better quality photos, a peek at the (somewhat homely exterior), plus a whole tour - might be a good excuse for my first video tour!  I'm so excited about the prospect of decorating this boat - first up, new upholstery.

Fingers crossed it works out - if not, we'll have to hit the road again...

And Then She Swam Away

It's Monday!  I have a funny story about Szuka, which I hope makes you smile.

Last year Szuka mostly avoided the lake, until Hubs and I jumped in one day.  Szuka reluctantly joined us, but then proved herself to be a strong, if a little timid, swimmer.  The fall encroached quickly, followed by the ice, and Szuka didn't get much time to test her sea legs.  Last week I spent an afternoon raking, with Szuka at my side.  She plucked a super mangy piece of driftwood from the shore - just totally rotten and disgusting -  so I tossed it back into the lake as soon as I could get my hands on it.  To my surprise, she dove in after it.  I started tossing stick after stick into the lake.  No matter how far I threw a stick, she obligingly retrieved it.  After last year's tentative swimming, I'm surprised by how much she loves the water!

Here's the funny part.  Hubs and I were sitting on the shore, admiring my handiwork and the view, and she was chewing a stick near us.  Then she heard geese squawking across the bay and took off running across our neighbour's yard.  We yelled at her to come back, and she did - begrudgingly.  She knows she's not allowed off our property - and she knows exactly where the property lines are - but sometimes the urge to protect us makes her willful.  She wouldn't come back and hang around us, but instead decided to wade into the lake and inspect our dilapidated dock (unusually high water levels last year totally destroyed it).

She walked out a little bit at a time, intensely sniffing every segment, until she reached the end.

That's when she started to book it toward the other side of the bay.  Toward the geese.

We just about died laughing at her determined swimming (and creative disobedience).  We called her name and she turned around with an expression that read, "What? What do you want?"

We instructed her to come back.  She looked peeved, but starting swimming back.

We're kind of curious how far she would have gotten, or what her end game was.  We were warned Komondors can be stubborn...

In other delightful doggy news, Hubs and I were having lunch with my Dad when he said he saw a mini-Szuka.  I turned around and spotted a corded pup!  She is a white Puli (which is less common than the typical black).  Pulis are another Hungarian breed, but they have way more energy because they're livestock herding dogs (not guarding dogs, like Komondors).

Her awesome corded coat, made even more special with colourful threads woven around some of the cords, made me regret - just for a second - not cording Szuka.  I'm always envious of people who have corded their Pulis or Komondors because it looks so cool!

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Well, Well, Well... What to do When Your Well Runs Dry in Winter

A small part of me was hoping it was actually chocolate milk...

It's been over a year since we moved out to the sticks and I have to say that other than close proximity to grocery stores for late night ice cream runs, I don't really miss living in the city.  That's not to say that country living doesn't have some pitfalls.  Most recently, our well ran dry.  Cue the sad trombone!  (If you follow me on Instagram, this isn't news to you, but here's the longer story.)  My Mummu and Mom were actually visiting me when I consumed the last drops of water.  We were tinkering with the Etsy shop, photographing new items and writing listings.  I was washing a few new finds when the water started to come out in spurts - like there was air in the lines.  Was the pump failing?  Were the lines frozen?  Was the well dry?  All of these were questions that I was ill-equipped to answer.  Hubby was out of town so, at a loss, I crawled into our basement to investigate.  The pump was working overtime and making angry noises, but I didn't spot anything else out of order.  I wasn't standing knee-deep in water, so that was a good sign.  I tried calling Hubby, but I couldn't reach him.  It was getting dark and I didn't like the prospect of a water-less evening, so I tossed some clothes in a duffel bag and booked it into town, actually "blowing the doors off" my Mom's Jeep as I passed her on the highway (in my zeal to enjoy a nice hot shower).  I was able to reach Hubby shortly after rolling into town.  He asked if I'd thrown the breaker on the pump before I left.

Nooo....

At 10pm my Dad and I drove the hour back out to the lakehouse, and I threw the breaker (puttered for a few minutes, to my Dad's chagrin), and then drove another hour back into town.  At least I could sleep easy, knowing the pump wouldn't overheat and catch fire.  The next morning I drove back out to our house to meet my father-in-law, who kindly drove out from his place to investigate.  Long story short: our well was dry!  I also learned that the well cover is ridiculously heavy concrete.  We suspect that because of our really, really cold winter, coupled with very little snowfall, the three sources that feed our well had frozen.  That's the problem with less snow: it doesn't provide the insulation we country folk need.  Fortunately the lines to our house weren't frozen, so we were able to pay for a water delivery ($225).  At first, the water level kept dropping so the whole truck ended up getting pumped into our well - it's the same price, apparently, whether we need some or all of the water.  We had no idea if the water would stay, or disappear overnight, because unlike a reservoir a well won't just hold water indefinitely.  I started melting snow to flush the toilets and we crossed our fingers.

It looks like topping it up - combined with balmy temperatures that helped things thaw - worked, because we're back in business.  We check the level daily and, not only did enough water stay in the well, it also looks like water is coming in again because the levels have dropped only a little bit.  Whew!  Happily, this didn't happen earlier in the winter because we might have had to make a monthly, or weekly, appointment for water.  I know people who have gone a month or more without water because their well or water lines froze, and so a water delivery wouldn't even help.

Just another reason to love spring!  And another way that rural living keeps us on our toes.  Next time I'll have to tell you about our $400 internet bill...

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There's No Place Like Home

A lot of people leave their hometowns, build a life, and only return home for the holidays.  Hubby and I left, built a life, returned home for the holidays but then, all of a sudden, we sold our house, packed up our belongings and moved back to the region where we grew up.  Someone once told me that's not what people should do - that once they leave, they should stay gone.  That's life, I was told.  

Hubby and I were gone for six years, enough time for things to change immensely and yet stay exactly the same.  This past year, our first year "back," stirred up a lot of feelings for me - which was surprising, because I've always wanted to live on the lake.  Finishing my PhD and actually getting my dream lakehouse should have made me the happiest person in the world.  People would have been well within their rights to kick me for uttering any complaints.  And I have been happy, really happy, at home.  But I felt unsettled when we drove into the city, like I was just visiting and should be heading to the airport soon to return home to Ottawa, where we lived before.  It felt like we had taken a step back, in some ways, like we'd stepped in a time machine and were teenagers again.  It was so nice to be closer to family, but we missed our friends.  It's been difficult making new friends, and yet everyone knows everyone in this small city - we missed the anonymity of a bigger city.  We missed the shopping (I couldn't even find a decent curtain rod here).  I was also a little bummed by my employment situation: my job prospects have been disappointing and I'm currently cobbling together an income, while Hubby works full time.  Even though I was happy this past year, I also kind of missed our old life.

While I waited for the right time to write a post about moving back home, trying to make sense of what I was thinking and feeling, what I was thinking and feeling changed.  If you follow me on Instagram, you might have noticed that I was recently in Ottawa for a short visit.  I stayed with a friend who lived only a few minutes from our former townhouse.  She was able to take a couple of days off from work so we could spend a long weekend together, and graciously lent me her car on the days she had to work so I could venture out on my own.  It was a funny feeling driving around Ottawa again.  I visited my favorite antique shops, checked out some furniture stores, stocked up at Costco with whatever I could fit in my luggage, and went to the townhouse.

That's right, I went back to the townhouse.  I walked the grounds behind the townhouse and while I scuttled by, casually sneaked a glance toward my former abode.  The curtains were thrown open (did they get rid of my beautiful layered sheers?) and it was dusk, so I saw a little: aside from the addition of their decor, the kitchen looked identical.  All of the walls still looked white, and the dining room light was the same too.  That's all I saw.  It felt intrusive to loiter, so I hurried back to the car.  And I felt great!  Like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.  I'm a sentimental person and was sure that with my mixed feelings about moving back to Northwestern Ontario, I'd crumple on the townhouse property, weeping, but instead I phoned Hubby immediately and told him how good I felt about the trajectory of our lives.  He sounded relieved. 

After my trip, I was able to think about Ottawa, our current place, the move - everything - with more perspective.  It's like my thoughts were previously clouded by feelings of "awwwww Ottawa, awwwwww, the townhouse," and that made me think a little irrationally.  With my new found clarity, I realized that it was just the change that had me feeling a little off kilter.  It was a lot of change, all at once.  In a period of only a few months, I successfully defended my PhD, we sold the townhouse (our first house!), bought the lakehouse (our dream house), added Szuka to the mix, packed up and moved 1600km.  Overnight I was no longer a grad student.  I think I craved the comfort of our old routine more than I realized.  Being plunged into a new, but eerily familiar routine, made me pine for Ottawa.  I forgot what a privilege it is to be able to make such huge life choices - and to actually see our dreams realized! - and I lost sight of what is important.  Diving right into home improvements made it seem like having a variety of furniture, home decor and renovation stores is the most important thing, and I forgot that life is about more than updating a home.

The last year went by in a blur, and I spent some of it in a bit of a funk, but I've decided to savor this upcoming year.  I finally feel settled and I no longer pine for what we had.  I'm also going to see my underemployment as something great: this is going to be the winter I indulge my creative side.  Embroidery, painting, sewing - I'm going to make things.  Time-consuming, beautiful things.  And to make up for the months we spent apart while I was doing research, Hubby and I are going to go cross-country skiing, have snowball fights and enjoy the crisp, cold air.  Oh, and buy a stand up paddle board for next summer.  And do a million other things.  Yes, the city we now call home still looks a lot like the city we grew up in, but there's also a lot of new restaurants, art galleries and shops to explore. 

I feel good.  Hubby, who is always on a far more even keel than me, feels good.  I'm already excited for 2015 because I know it's going to be an awesome year.  I think our breakfast guests are proof positive:

Have you moved around a lot?  Had to start fresh?  Ever moved back home?  Was a year too long to realize how good I have it?

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How to Spray Paint Plastic Lawn Chairs

The previous homeowners left us a pair of plastic lawn chairs but I didn't love the beige, so I decided to try spray painting plastic!  It turns out that it's easy to spray paint plastic and painting my beige plastic lawn chairs immediately made them look crisp and new.

Here's a peek at our "new" aqua lawn chairs!

And here's what they looked like before:

Painting plastic is nearly identical to painting other surfaces.  Although many Rust-Oleum paint products can be applied without a primer - or include a built-in primer - it was recommended that these chairs be primed first.  I cheated and used a Rustoleum paint + primer combo in flat white as my first coat, because that's what I had on hand.  Other than that, the steps for painting plastic were simple!

How to Paint Plastic Chairs:

• Scrub the chairs with Mr. Clean.  I used Q-tips to really get into the corners (there was a lot of gunk on these).
• Rinse with a garden hose to thoroughly remove soap and let dry.
• Using multiple, thin coats apply the primer.
• With one hour (or after 24) apply multiple, thin coats of paint (I chose Painter's Touch in Satin Aqua).

Tips and Tricks for Painting Plastic Chairs:

I didn't flip the chairs over to paint the undersides, because they will never be seen.  Instead, I painted what could be seen underneath the seat with a few blasts of spray paint.  These new-fangled spray cans that can spray in any direction are excellent for speeding up a project because instead of flipping a piece of furniture back and forth (and wasting paint on the bottom), I just crouched down and sprayed upwards to cover what's visible of the underneath area.  So easy!!  I did make sure, however, to spray the backs, under the arms and the insides of the legs thoroughly.  It's definitely an aerobic activity making sure that the surface is evenly covered from all angles. 

Although this paint dried quickly - it was dry to the touch in an hour - it takes a bit longer for paint to fully cure on plastic (about a week), so I made sure to set these chairs aside to ensure they could cure in peace. 

Unlike metals and woods, there's always a chance that not all plastics will accept paint well, but these turned out perfectly.

It took one can of primer and three cans of paint.  The only reason I required so much paint was all of the nooks and crannies at the back of my chair!  Plus it was a kind of windy day.  Every day on the lake is a windy day, so sometimes I don't even notice.  A simpler chair and calmer weather would require far less, I'm sure. Time-wise, it took less than an hour (including scrubbing, but not including dry time).

The former owners left all kinds of goodies behind.  Did you catch Szuka and Handy Hubby in the paddle boat we unearthed last week?  I shared an adorable photo on Instagram but I'll admit something just to you: the whole boat ride Szuka was pretty calm as we paddled back and forth close to shore.  She leaned against our backs, which was so cute.  I hopped out and Hubby paddled away so I could snap a photo.  She started to fuss and fuss and fuss and ... SPLOOSH - found herself in the water.  Seconds after she hit the water, she was already booking it to shore.  The girl can paddle.  I'm not even sure the top of her head got wet, thanks to her awesome doggy life jacket.  Once she made it to shore, she looked at me like, "we're both safe, but what about him? Who cares about him? Let's escape while we can" and she took off toward the house, looking back to make sure I was behind her. 

Special thanks to Rust-Oleum for providing the product for this makeover and many more upcoming projects!

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Bearly a Problem

It's embarrassing to admit, but when we first moved from the city to our rural lakehouse, I was scared out of my gourd.  The woods - at night! - tops the list of my irrational fears.  A lifetime of scary movies has taught me that bad things happen in the wood at night.  Shortly before the move, we started watching The Walking Dead, and that's when I learned that the woods can be terrifying during the day too.  The episode in which Hershel's idyllic, country farm is overrun by walkers hit a little too close to home and that's when I stopped watching.  Only recently have I been able to come home in the dark without spending half an hour parked in the driveway, petrified with fear of what's lurking outside and trying to screw up the courage to open the door.  I can now stand on the deck at night while Szuka does her evening perimeter check/pee, instead of cowering inside with all of the lights on.  When something goes bump in the night I'm not immediately drenched in sweat, certain that my untimely demise is imminent.

Photo Source

Despite the bevy of irrational fears that have shaped my experience of country life, I haven't - until recently - been afraid of more plausible threats, like bears.  I've seen black bears, here and there, but I always felt safe in my backyard because black bears, we're told, tend to avoid people.  Predatory black bear attacks, although horrific and gruesome when they happen, are really very rare.  Still, habituated bears - those that are accustomed to humans and aren't afraid - are worrisome.

Photo Source

Recently I shared a photo on Instagram of one of our apple trees with a branch ripped almost clean off.  I suspected a bear, and it was confirmed last week when a neighbour anxiously banged on our front door to let us know a bear was in our apple tree, high among the branches, and refusing to budge.  He eventually ran off, but she was really concerned by how unfazed he was by our presence.

The neighbour told me someone else in the area had been confronted by a giant, 200+ lb black bear, who determinedly, yet slowly, approached her while she was out walking.  She in turn slowly backed away but he followed, so she tried to make herself big and tall and noisy but still he confidently moved toward her (probably not unlike the curious bear in this video).  He was only scared away by a passing truck.

This description sounded eerily like what might happen before a predatory attack.  For the first time, I became afraid of what's actually lurking out there, in the woods.  I felt somewhat safe because Szuka is always by my side (and she's a big girl), but then I read that dogs can be the worst around bears: some run up to a bear and nip it, then turn around and run back to their owner with the bear in hot pursuit.  Szuka, still just an adolescent and fun-loving pup, is goofy enough to do that.

Illustration Source

I decided to do a little research and see what I could do - in addition to buying bear bangers and bear spray, which I stocked up on - to keep bears away (plus what to do in the case of an encounter!).  The number one rule for keeping safe in bear country?  Hide food sources (garbage, compost, etc).  That's kind of a no-brainer, and despite my former penchant for fox-feeding, we've been diligent about not leaving food out.  I have no idea what possessed the former owner to plant two juicy apple trees between the house and the garage.  But then I saw this photo of a woman feeding a black bear and I realized that sometimes smart people just do stupid things.

Photo Source

We had been meaning to chop the trees down, but last fall there were no confirmed signs of bears coming to our yard (we thought we saw bear poop, but now I'm not so sure), and so it hadn't seemed urgent.  Plus, we liked the leafy privacy they afforded.  Well, it turns out that last year there was a big bear hunt in the area that eradicated the bears, but without an organized hunt this year, more black bears began appearing.

A couple of Instagram friends told me we could interrupt the fruit cycle and still keep the trees.  I thought that might be a good idea but suddenly the fruit tree removal seemed very urgent.  The persistent little black bear started appearing daily and I was worried he'd bring bigger, even bolder friends.  Even though he's small, I knew that he could still do damage if provoked - especially if he took a swipe at Szuka.  He tended to appear around the time we went outside to play fetch - and I started to wonder how many times he'd been only a few feet away without us realizing.  One night I decided to read about every fatal bear attack in North America in the last hundred years, and it had me wishing for a comforting episode of The Walking Dead.  Did you know that a woman was mauled to death in her kitchen when a black bear burst through her window and attacked her?!?  Hubby and I decided, definitively, that the trees needed to go.  Right now.  Luckily, my father-in-law was kind enough to drop what he was doing and come by with a chainsaw.  He expertly cut down the trees (digging up the ground around them so the sawed off stump won't protrude) and then we bagged up all of the apples.  I still need to cut down and dispose of the heap of branches, but the larger chunks of wood we'll dry out and burn.  We mourned the apple trees a little, and the heap of brush has certainly not added curb appeal, but I feel a lot better now that the lure of delicious applies is gone.

The bear will still come back for a bit, out of habit, until he realizes that the apple buffet has officially closed.  The neighbours have blueberries that have yet to ripen so it's entirely possible that he'll still be hanging around the area, snacking.  Hopefully, though, no additional bears will be drawn to our yard because we never leave out anything tasty.  At least by the time our little guest grows to his full size, our apple trees will be a distant memory.  In the meantime, I'm not going outside without bear bangers and bear spray, plus I've put a giant bell on Szuka's collar so we don't accidentally crash a teddy bear picnic.

See ya, little guy.

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My Sliding Door: Minty Fresh

Have you seen the movie Sliding Doors?  It's influenced my outlook on life more than a film should.  If you haven't seen it (go rent it!), the film follows two versions of the protagonist Helen's (Gwenyth Paltrow) life, made totally different by one simple, seemingly innocuous event.  Anytime someone around me laments a decision or something that's happened to them, I caution "sliding doors".  There's this tendency for people to think that the alternative is rosier, but I'm of the belief that a situation wouldn't necessarily be better if things had unfolded differently.  Watch the movie, I'll sound less batty. 

Last summer we stumbled across the lakehouse we now call home although it really wasn't the plan to buy a house then.  This place was so perfect though that we took a leap and bought it, even though it meant some sacrifices, like being rushed to sell and not making money on the sale of our townhouse.  Our plan had been to move this year, around this time actually.  I haven't, for a second, regretted our somewhat rash decision and when the sun sets on our piece of Lake Superior, I couldn't be happier or more at peace.  I feel very privileged we were able to realize one of our dreams.  Of course, things aren't perfect: we miss Ottawa and our life there, the lakehouse has some quirks (and we've had some unpleasant surprises), we're an hour from the nearest city which can be taxing and tiring, and our 8km long dirt road is treacherous some days (at least until the grader shows up), but we love it here.  Hubby, though equally contented, still trolls the real estate listings, looking at other homes for sale on Lake Superior.  I am secretly terrified of this, wondering if one day he'll find something better and it will be evident that we should have waited.  I thought it might be fun to share some of the comparable homes with you, every now and then, to see where we might have ended up - or not - had we dug in our heels and stuck to our plan.

Here's the first place, which is actually on the part of Lake Superior I wanted to be on, because it's only a 20 minute drive into town and closer to my parents.  It's near a bay that Hubby and I used to frequent for swimming dates in our teens and early twenties.  When I first saw the listing, my heart tightened.  I love the location, and the exterior is minty green.  It's similarly sized as ours, (maybe 100-200 square feet larger), but on two and a half levels.  Here's what I was thinking as Hubby and I scrolled through the photos:

Oooo, mint green!!

Awesome view, but not on a sheltered bay like we are, and Lake Superior can kick your ass, even in the summer.  Too cold to enjoy if it's too open!!  But look - that's the Sleeping Giant.  Awwww.

A proper entryway!  Think of the gorgeous credenza we could make . . . sigh.   Our tiny "entrance" is so useless and awkward when we come home.

Great potential and lovely wood floors.  We could paint the walls and beams white (of course), except for the stone.  I'd paint it dark grey like I did ours - it would help the TV blend in.  Is that the best place for it?  A mid-century sectional sofa in teal tweed would be perfect for the shape of the room.
 

Gorgeous view from the dining room - and look!  Is that light centred?  Luxury.

Dead space between the living and dining . . .but the dining room is spacious.  Room for a credenza?  I love having one, don't think I could give that up.

The kitchen is so similar to ours.  LOVE the additional windows and pot lights.  What a bright space, day or night.  We need more windows!  I would swap the pendant lights for two small George Nelson cigar pendants.  I'd paint the cupboards and not even tear out the uppers like we did.  The counter is neutral and looks to be in great shape - how nice.

That tiny piece of counter is too funny.

The master bedroom wouldn't fit a king sized bed.  Why does this house have so many weird angles and bump outs?
 

I would break a knee cap climbing into this. 
 

Vanity, why are you so small and awkward??

 Powder room, why are you so awkward too?  Pretty tile backsplash, though.



A-ha!!  This is where all the crazy angles from the lower two levels meet and collide.  Insanity.
 

Is that garage aqua???  SOLD.  It's got a guest space above, whereas our "guest house" (I use the term generously) is separate from the garage.  Fewer buildings to maintain would be swell.  Our yard is a jumble of sheds, a sauna/guesthouse and garage, plus carport.  This seems tidier and more well planned.

Overall, it's lovely, right?  What did you think of it?  There are things I love about ours that I wouldn't want to trade, even for a better location: more open concept, giant bathroom vanity, one level, tall ceilings.  But really, I could be happy here too.  You know what makes this place so much less enticing?  It's $200,000 more than our house was, and most definitely out of our budget!!  We wouldn't have been able to afford to live here.  Okay, so no regrets yet, but they're just beginning to list lake homes . . . shall we do this again?

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