I drove down to my cottage Wednesday evening to stay overnight because I had a serviceman scheduled to arrive at eight am Thursday morning and I didn’t want to miss him. So even though Wednesday had been rainy and cool I packed up a few clothes and necessities, stopped for gas and a couple of snacks, and finally pulled into my cottage driveway just after seven-thirty pm that evening.
When I unlocked the cottage door, walked in and closed the door behind me, I quickly realized how COLD it was inside–much colder than the air outside! How is that even possible? I’m sure there are scientific rules that can explain this phenomenon but no explanation would have helped me Wednesday evening! I was on my own, so I clicked on the fireplace (electric, but better than nothing), cranked up the one wall heater I have that works, closed the doors to the two bedrooms that wouldn’t be needed that night, and piled on another sweatshirt over the one I was already wearing. If I had thought to bring mittens with me I would have put them on, too.
Note to self: it is time to have electric heaters installed in the bedrooms and in the kitchen. Find someone to do that and make it happen!
Before too long I could feel my nose again, so, knowing I would be alright after all, I turned on the DVD player and settled on the couch to watch a few episodes of a British comedy called “Jeeves and Wooster”, starring one of my favorite actors, Hugh Laurie aka Dr. Gregory House. If you have never heard Hugh (I like to call him Hugh), speak without an American accent, you would be in for a shock the first time you tuned in to an episode of Jeeves and Wooster. On this show Hugh bandies about phrases such as “What-ho, Jeeves,” and “What rot!” and “What a wheeze!”, phrases I’ve never heard Dr. House utter.
But I digress, again–why is it I have such a difficult time staying on task? I wanted to write about being at my cottage and instead ended up discussing a British television series from the early 1990s! Shame on me.
Back to my cottage.
I like my cottage…I like the relaxed feeling I experience as soon as I climb up the steps to my deck and sprawl out on a lawn swing or plop down into a comfy padded chair, I like the fact that there is much less house-work stuff to be done at the cottage than at my home, and I like waking up in the mornings to birds singing and a salt breeze gently blowing off the water. I would say that staying at the cottage was almost like being in paradise.
Almost, but not quite.
Until yesterday morning. Yesterday morning, just after eight am, an installer-guy arrived in his van to hook up ‘fixed wireless’ internet for me. Yay!
He was a very nice man, polite and friendly. He showed me what he had to do before he did it, asked my permission to drill a hole in my cottage’s wall (heck–I would have told him he could drill a hole in my head if it meant I could have internet access here), and made sure I knew how to connect my laptop to the modem. Forty-five minutes after he arrived he packed up his gear and drove off, leaving behind one delighted customer.
I now have internet at my cottage, which means I can now spend as much time here as I want to this summer and fall without experiencing internet-withdrawal symptoms or wondering if I had missed a really important email (I can’t say that I’ve ever had a really important email before but I’m sure I could get one, some day, maybe). Now, if I do, I won’t miss it.
Here it is Friday afternoon and I’m still at the cottage. The weather today is sunny but the air is cool and the wind is even colder. Do I care? Nope–I’m inside, looking out my patio door at the water, snuggled on the sofa with the electric fireplace glowing and blowing warm air towards me, and I’m working happily away on my laptop.
There are dirty dishes in the sink, my hair is standing on end because I didn’t bother ‘doing’ it today, and my stomach is once again complaining that it needs food soon, but I’m content for now. It’s quiet and I’m alone and that suits me today.
Drat, though. This afternoon I realized that I didn’t bring enough blood pressure pills to get me through the next few days, so I’m going to have to go home tonight after all. No sense being in paradise if it means I could have a stroke because I didn’t take my meds.
I’m going to wait for a while before I head home though–there is still a chance that my son will decide to venture down this way tonight after work, and if he does, he can bring my pills and I can stay right where I am, doing what I am doing.
Currently enjoying paradise–a wonderful combination of rustic cottage living and wireless internet.