Woman in Real Life

Generally we try to go away on one longer road trip per summer - often it has been to Nova Scotia, once it was to Cape Cod and, last year, it was to New York City. This year we decided that our main vacation would take place right here in Ontario. There are many beautiful spots in this province and it makes sense now and then to put the money into accommodations and save on travel expenses.

We rented a cottage for a week on Lower Buckhorn Lake with my husband's cousin and her family. Just a couple of hours away, it was a pleasant drive to the cottage, mainly along rural roads. We didn't exactly pack light. In fact, we pretty much stuffed the van to the gills. I decided to buy all of our groceries at home and pack them in coolers and boxes, because I'm sort of picky about which products I like and you never know what you'll find in smaller town grocery stores. We left the dogs at home with a dog sitter so we didn't have to pack any of their stuff. But we managed to fill up every crevice anyhow.

There are certain weeks you look back at with fondness, and this was one of them for me. Yes, it was my birthday on Monday and I got a few much-appreciated presents, but that's really not the reason.

When I stop and think about the common themes in those special weeks, I always come up with time spent with family and friends, time spent exploring and, of course, good food. I have covered all our visits and travels in my other posts this week, but here's a quick Friday summary using our cell phone photos.

My husband took this photo, above, while visiting my parents at the cottage. I just love it. I think it speaks of the joy of childhood, summertime and the beach.

A look back at the week using simple, sweet cell phone photos. That's the idea behind Insta-Friday. The "sweet" is optional. While this looks like a pretty scene, above, it's actually our van stopped at the side of the road on the way to the cottage last weekend.

The kids behaved well for most of the trip, but they got a little out of control at the end. When fists start to fly we generally pull over. This time, the husband and I actually got out of the car. (Don't worry, we took the keys with us.) Kids are pretty impatient. We have found they will behave in order to get back on the road.

This weekend was soccer-free and, as such, a great time to visit family members. We started on Friday with a visit to my parents at the cottage.

Here's the World War II airplane that rests outside the nearby Dunnville Public Library. I have to say the little head inside freaks me out just a bit. We always attend the library's annual summer book sale with my mom. Here's what I bought.

Friday seems to roll around so quickly. Maybe that's not true for some of you who are just yearning for the work week to pass. I understand. I have been there. I hope the weekend is all you hope it will be.

In looking at my week's worth of cell phone photos, I mainly found pics from last weekend when we went to my parents' place. Here's "the cottage," above, waking from a winter's sleep.

In addition to enjoying the beach at my parents' house this past weekend, my husband and I also ventured into the nearby small town of Dunnville to browse some shops. There is a great thrift store in town with lots of vintage dishes and records. I looked at the dishes while he looked at the records.

A few days ago, I showed you some highlights from "the cottage," otherwise known as my parents' house. No look at the cottage would be complete without a look at the lake.

Last weekend, my husband, the kids and I took a walk down the beach, as I used to do as a child myself. Part of the beach is blocked by rocks that people have poured over the cliff to act as retaining walls. I loved to climb those rocks as a kid. I don't mind now, except I found myself without appropriate footwear this time! Slippery boots are not the best option.

Lake Erie is not a gentle lake. Many people have drowned in it. My mom even saw a body floating ashore when we were kids. In the wintertime, the lake takes away several feet of land and trees each year. My mom's friend recalls a time when there were farmers' fields out over the part of the lake that I swam in as a child.

We got “the cottage” when I was maybe about 9 years old. Back then, it was a little red cabin, covered in red logs and sitting on blocks. I clearly recall that, when a storm would come in off Lake Erie, my dad would get us out of bed to sit on the green vinyl-covered benches around the kitchen table until the storm passed. I’m not sure what he was afraid of, but that guy is the definition of “safety freak.”