August 29: Many of us play the lotteries. We have convinced ourselves that there is always a chance that we will win big money, even though the odds are roughly equivalent to those of being struck by lightning. Still, the allure of a potential win is strong. Who among us has never said: “It wouldn’t have to be a lot of money. Even a million dollars would make a huge difference….”, before launching into a long discussion of all the wonderful things we would do.
So it was with mixed emotions that I found myself handing over a cheque roughly equivalent to a good sized lottery win to a law firm in Bracebridge. It was to complete the purchase of Regatta Island. I have never written a cheque that large in my entire life and couldn’t help thinking that the money would make a huge difference in my life – like winning a lottery – it were coming into my hands rather than departing, There was certainly excitement at the thought of owning the island yet it was mixed with a certain fear that I was somehow making a gigantic mistake.
That concern was amplified when I opened the cottage for the first time. What had seemed to be a quaint old place in need of TLC when we visited in October, was now clearly a wreck closer to demolition than salvation. As expected in a cottage that is almost 100 years old, nothing was straight or true. None of the doors or windows really fit that well and a lot of the exterior porches were rotten through and through. I discovered that the entire roof along the south exposure leaks water when it rains, making one bedroom unusable and the other merely uncomfortable.
There was a squirrel living part-time in the cottage and it had shredded 3 of 5 mattresses in addition to scattering seeds and pine shavings throughout the place. There was an assortment of old mostly decrepit furniture and mounds of mildewed linens; the place had clearly not been cleaned in many years.
Standing in the living room, I felt a mix of emotions. There was concern that I had bitten off more than I could chew. The amount of urgent work seemed to have multiplied exponentially. There was disappointment that things were not as rosy as they had at first appeared. But the most significant emotion was anger. I was angry because I felt that the vendor had taken advantage of my good nature and had cleaned out anything of value, leaving only trash and broken furniture. Instead of making even minimal attempts to clean the place up – or to at least have warned me that this work would be needed – nothing was done even though she had been in the cottage as recently as a week before closing.
But the thing I find most upsetting is that an owner could let the condition of the cottage deteriorate over so many years and not make even basic repairs to preserve it. This is disrespectful of the generations who have spent summers here; it’s disrespectful of the hard work to build the place and the efforts of earlier generations to improve it; and, it disrespects the building itself, which has stood for more years than most people have been alive, fighting hard against the ravages of time.
So, much work needs to be done. Some has already been accomplished with the help of my very good friends Kate and Roy. With the season now winding down, it’s hard to know how much more we can do before closing for the year. Time alone will tell whether I have a winner here.