July 17: Today is the one-year anniversary of the day I signed the offer to purchase Regatta Island. It was a classic mid-Summer day in Toronto. The agent called to say that the offer had been signed back and said: “You sign this and you are the new owner of Regatta Island. Congratulations.” While I waited for the documents to arrive electronically (whatever happened to signing actual paper …?) I wandered around thinking that I was about to make a huge mistake. The money involved – for me anyway – was huge, and the apparent risks of buying a much-loved but poorly maintained 110 year-old cottage overwhelmed me. I considered not signing for a moment or two. It all seemed a bit much. But I finally took courage by both hands and signed off.

As I have written elsewhere, there has been a range of emotions as I arrived at the cottage and began to encounter the problems that are part and parcel of such an old cottage. The roof leaked in 3 rooms. None of the floors were level. The front porch – the perfect spot for a morning coffee watching the sun rise – was rotted through in several places. All of the mattresses needed to be replaced thanks to a Red Squirrel which had made the cottage home. He / she had also chewed through the roof and the walls in several places, and stashed enough acorns to see him / her through the next century. There was literally a project everywhere I looked.

Worker-mate Roy and I spent August last year attacking what we could. I had a new roof installed, so the cottage was at least secure from the weather. I spent the Winter sketching plans and thinking through options and possibilities. I reached out to several barge companies, plumbers and electricians about possible work. I was naïve to how much work was in store, and how much it might cost.

Since then, we have advanced significantly. The worst parts of the porch are mostly repaired, the mattresses have been replaced, a pile of garbage has been removed and barged away, a new kitchen is roughed in and new windows installed, an arbourist has trimmed the trees back a bit, the airtight stove has been repaired and relocated, and, the septic system installer called today to say that he hopes to be coming in the next few weeks to get the new system in place.

Unfortunately, he seems to be the only contractor who has been consistently interested in working on the island. It has been my experience – and that of my friend McCart who has a cottage nearby – that contractors don’t return calls, or say they will come “to have a look” and then postpone or simply never show up. I had been dealing with a plumber since last September believing that he would install a new plumbing system. In spite of providing copies of my plans on two separate occasions, even after I cornered him in his business and told him about my plans a third time, in spite of saying a month ago that he would get back with an estimate in” a week or so”, I have yet to hear a word from him. (Fortunately, I think I have found another plumbing crew that will actually show up to do the work.)

So, after a year of dreaming and organizing and struggling with financing and reluctant contractors, things are finally coming together. Some major, new bits of “infrastructure” will shortly be added, and the overall livability of the place has improved 100%. I’m not where I thought I might be a year ago, but I do have the privilege of being in a special place, helping to bring it back to life, bit by bit. We will have to see what next year brings ….

May 8: I had the great pleasure of heading north yesterday to “open the cottage” with my good friend Roy. After what seemed to be an unnecessarily long and gloomy Winter, it was good to be near the lake and preparing for the Summer ahead. We spent a couple of hours removing the shutters and taking some of the furniture out of storage.

It was a tiring day with lots of driving. We drove north from Toronto to Bracebridge and back in one day so about 400 km it total. On getting back to the city I stopped at a Costco to fill the tank and left $95 lighter. I don’t expect to be travelling back and forth every weekend so I can defray the cost over a couple of weeks, but it would seem that families driving to the cottage every weekend may take a hit. Then again, as Roy said, if you have a $3 million cottage, $100 for gas is nothing.

Whatever awaits, I’m happy to say that the Saucer Magnolia at the end of the street is now in full bloom. With temperatures later this week forecast to reach the mid- to high-20’s, I feel confident in declaring that Spring has finally arrived.

Célébrez avec une bouteille de bonne rose.

April 16:  For several years now I have been a fan of a television program called Grand Designs. Currently on the CBC (and its affiliate GEM) it originated at the BBC. It’s hosted by Kevin McCloud, an amiable and knowledgeable Architect, who follows the trials and tribulations of people self-building their own home. The people involved range from Architects, Engineers and Contractors to one fellow who started his home without actually having any idea of how to build it.

He knew he needed to start with foundations so he went off to the library and searched the internet to learn how to do so. That completed, he needed to learn how to frame walls, and install a roof, and do plumbing. Given the hundreds of elements that combine to make a house, it should be no surprise that his episode ended after following him for more than 4 years with completion of the house nowhere in sight. It is, I believe, the only episode where we don’t actually see a finished house.

More typically, the homebuilders generally fall into 2 categories. On the one hand you have the younger, naïve keeners who often want to try untested or innovative design solutions such as hay bale construction or adaptive re-use. They’re often after something unique that might be an experiment to prove a theory or support a non-typical lifestyle. (Think community-built sod homes….) The second general grouping seems to be somewhat older. They too want something unique but their quest seems to emerge from the idea of capturing a dream they have held, or a plan postponed, often for many years.

What they share, and what emerges as the tension in most of the programs, is a very unrealistic perspective on the time and the cost of the building. Many times, the proponents are heard saying that they will complete the building in 4 months and “be in just before winter”. Cue shots of people (often friends conscripted to help out) grappling with large timbers high on a roof as the British autumn rain lashes horizontally across the screen. The build concludes the following Spring…

Everyone starts with a budget of some sort but they are often waylaid by what might seem to be relatively predictable costs that are not in the budget. A husband and wife were reconstructing a late-1800’s mill adjacent to a stream and seemed surprised to discover groundwater seeping into the foundation. Virtually every episode ends with McCloud asking “And what did it cost ?” followed by the builders outlining why and by how much they overran the budget. At one painful extreme was a man who lost the new home, his previous home, a home he built on spec to sell to help finance the house, and his business trying to build his dream, all while his Architect refused to compromise or suggest design changes that might have been less expensive to build.

For fans of architecture, the show is a wonderful mix of insight, criticism, hope, hubris and even some humour. With all of this in mind, I am now beginning to wonder how my coming rebuilding work on Regatta Island would look as a Grand Design episode.

I’ve worked on several homes with varying degrees of complexity and success over the years so I am not naïve to the problems that inevitably arise in renovation work – especially when the building is more than 100 years old. I already suspect that there are potential issues with the foundation, and the plumbing system needs complete replacement. I had a new roof installed last Summer, so I can at least keep the rain out, but there’s still no source of heat (the chimney for the airtight having been removed to replace the roof) so the first few months will be pretty cool.

By most metrics, I think people would say that the cost of the cottage and the work is a huge risk “for someone my age”. When I should be hunkering down and protecting my financial resources, I’ve transferred a significant part of my investments into real estate and, while I’m reasonably comfortable doing that, there will be inevitable financial issues going forward. Indeed, there have already been significant tax impacts and the budget has been revised downward out of necessity. Many of the resources I need to undertake some of the projects are either in short supply, or on back-order, or eye-wateringly expensive. Safe to say then that finances are a work in progress.

Finally, there’s the issue of a time-line. Here I can be a bit more relaxed. Unlike other self-builders, Regatta is a recreational property not a home, so there’s no family and no small herd of dogs and cats waiting to move in. That said, there’s a crying need to have the place brought up to a standard where it can be said to be reasonably comfortable for me and any visitors. Stage one is plumbing and upgrading both the kitchen and the bathroom. Some basic work furnishing the place and repairing decks and doors and windows will also be in the mix, time and weary bodies permitting. There’s so much yet to be done that I doubt there will ever be a day when I can say with authority that “I am finished”.

If there ever was a Grand Designs episode featuring Regatta Island I suspect that I would look pretty much like everyone else on the show: broke, exhausted, and completely in love with the place they have built. For now, I’ll wait for Kevin’s call and get to work. More scenes from the show in the following posts…..

CBC Gem – Grand Designs – Grand Designs

March 13:

A recent article in the Globe and Mail notes that March 13 marks the day that Canadians and Americans will have already used up their share of the planet’s resources for 2022.

Let that sink in for a moment.

 

Opinion: North Americans have already used up their share of the planet’s resources for the year. It’s clear that climate action needs a reboot – The Globe and Mail 

February 21:  There was a time when I loved this country in a proud and unquestioning way, a kind of  sew-the-flag-on-your-backpack-and-go hitch-hiking through-Europe kind of way. It seemed that people in other countries knew Canada as that kinder, gentler, more thoughtful and accepting second-cousin to the United States. We were respected across the world as peace-keepers and contributed to many multi-national organizations such as the UN and NATO in meaningful ways.

Our political leaders were guys like Lester Pearson, William Davis and Tommy Douglas, men (sadly, all men) who valued working for the common good – working for the benefit of everyone – rather than cleaving to narrow, self-serving and self-interested political games.

Tommy Douglas was Premier of Saskatchewan and later, leader of the Federal NDP. His party held the balance of power for many years, notably voting against the imposition of the War Measures Act in 1970. As Premier of Saskatchewan he created Canada’s first publicly-owned automobile insurance corporation; created publicly-owned Saskatchewan Power Corporation and several other Crown corporations; and his government adopted a Bill of Rights which preceded adoption of the UN Bill of Rights by 18 months.

William Davis was the 18th Premier of Ontario (1971 to 1985). In a prior role as Minister of Education, he reduced the number of school boards within the Province from more than 3,600 to 192. One of his first initiatives as Premier was the cancellation of the Spadina Expressway and throughout his time in office, he worked “across the aisle” to implement policies that may not have been entirely supported by his caucus – buying a share of oil producer Suncor for example.

Pearson, our fourteenth Prime Minister, ran consecutive minority governments after an extensive career in the diplomatic corps. He won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1957 for organizing the United Nations Emergency Force to resolve the Suez crisis. As a minority Prime Minister he created universal health care, the Canadian Pension Plan, the Canadian Student Loan Program, and introduced the Order of Canada. His government also gave us our flag in 1965.

Pause for a moment and consider what Pearson accomplished as a minority government and compare that with what has been accomplished by the current minority lead by Justin Trudeau. When he came to office after the Harper years, he promised “sunny ways” and a kinder, gentler form of politics. That seems to have devolved into and era of promising many things but accomplishing little. The current government approach to the situation in Ukraine was ably captured by Andrew Coyne in the Globe and Mail (January 29, 2022):

“What actions does the Trudeau government propose, then, in order to “be there for” and “stand with” and be “in support of” Ukraine ? Less than what the Ukrainians have asked for. Less than what other countries are doing. Less than what previous Canadian governments did. Less even than it had itself been hinting it would do. And certainly less than the situation requires. We will give Ukraine every assistance, it seems, short of actual help.”

Our status as a multinational partner is illustrated by our role in the current negotiations with the Taliban around the future of Afghanistan – a country where 165 Canadians died and more than 2,000 were wounded: we weren’t invited. Our minimal  financial support for other countries and our own military capability have withered to such an extent that we are no longer seen as having a viable role internationally. We don’t matter.

In a recent article in the Globe and Mail (February 12, 2022), pollster Nik Nanos concluded that, over all, Canadians score their satisfaction with Canada as a country at a paltry 68%, down from 72% a year ago. He concludes:

“It is clear that many feel that our democratic institutions are failing at delivering solutions that make our country a better place.   ….  Our political discourse has lowered itself to a regular baseline of name-calling and sloganeering. These have always existed and will continue to exist but the public good is a casualty in today’s discourse. No one should be surprised that Canadians rate their democratic institutions poorly and do not see them as moving our country forward in a positive fashion.”

This makes me sad. This is not the country I once knew and I don’t see that changing any time soon. Politics has become a partisan game played with public opinion polls. Actually accomplishing things of value to society as a whole has become less important than scoring points over the other guy in an effort to get elected at the polls. Much energy is spent criticizing  alternative views rather than actually doing meaningful things that will have a beneficial impact for our country. If I hear Trudeau breathlessly say that he will “be there for” and “stand with” one more cause I will scream. Instead of all the standing around perhaps he should actually take a page from the playbook of previous governments and actually do something meaningful to the greater benefit of our country.

Opinion: Data Dive with Nik Nanos: Canadians are losing faith in the country’s most vital institutions – The Globe and Mail

February 1: I decided to make bacon and eggs for breakfast this morning. Actually, I decided to make bacon and eggs on Sunday (two days ago) but forgot, and felt that I better get the bacon cooked before it turned into a small furry carnivore  in the fridge. I don’t remember the last time I cooked breakfast at home. It must be at least a year, but B and E is one of those meals that everyone can cook from memory so I had no worries.

When we had our cottage, my cousin James and I would have B and E virtually every Saturday morning. I would be up first and fry up a mess of bacon which I would divide into servings. I would put his aside in a warm oven and then I’d make the eggs and toast and coffee for me. When he dragged his dimpled butt out of bed around noon, there was nice warm ready-cooked bacon waiting. Simple, and I got quite good at putting it all together if I do say so myself.

I have a glass-topped stove that I find hard to regulate. When I got the bacon going this morning, the stove went from stone cold to far too hot in about 2 minutes. That meant that the bacon was spattering all over the place and generally making a mess of the kitchen. Trying to wipe up a bit of the flying grease, I scorched the end of one of my fingers and narrowly avoided turning the paper towel into a flaming, grease-filled torch.

With the bacon done, I had to dispose of the surplus grease in the pan. My dear Mother would pour this off into an old coffee can, and store it in the bottom of the stove. I have no idea why she kept it because I never actually saw her use it for anything – cooking or otherwise. Not wanting to keep it, I decided to put a paper towel in the bottom of a plastic clamshell package from some raspberries and dump the grease in there. That worked a treat until the hot grease hit the small amount of water in the bottom of the package whereupon a miniature gun battle broke out in the bottom of the sink with sizzling hot water and grease flying in all directions.

With the pan now cleaned out, I cracked 3 eggs and got them going. Fishing out the bits of shell always seems to take longer than it should. With that accomplished I put the toast on and started the coffee. This is the part of making breakfast that separates the men from the boys. It’s important that all these things be ready at the same time, so that they arrive at the table piping hot and ready to eat.

With the eggs just about done, I reached into the cupboard for the honey. This comes in a plastic tub that was apparently not well sealed when I last put it away. Being quite full, the top popped off and spilled honey across the counter and onto the hot stove. The top, now liberated from the tub, fell to the floor and like the proverbial butter on toast, landed honey side down. At this point, the kettle was screaming and the toast was growing cold in the toaster, and I found that, in lunging for the lid, I had burned one of the knuckles on my left hand.

In short order, I had the bacon, eggs and toast on the plate, and the coffee ready to go with the morning paper. The chaos in my kitchen took somewhat longer to overcome.  I think from now on, I might just have B and E at the local diner. It’s much safer.

 

January 18:  Infrequent readers – if there are in fact any out there –  will have noticed a dearth of posts over the last few months. When I started this little venture in 2015, I thought of it as a way of passing along information about preparations for my trip to Europe, and then sharing the small adventures that happened during the time I was away. When I came home, there were other fun things to share, and further trips in 2017, 2018 and 2019 which provided fodder and photos for my miscellaneous ramblings (with apologies to fans of Road & Track). I’ve always thought that this site as more than a journal of events; it’s also about my reaction to what’s happening.

Given that we have essentially been under house arrest for much of the last 2 years, the lack of new material here should perhaps not be surprising. As mentioned in the following post from November, I’ve found the last few months to be somewhat difficult. To go from a relatively active and unrestricted Summer to a lockdown was very discouraging. To then have a fourth wave of infections surge across the country when we had imagined we might be rid of the whole thing was a real punch in the gut. The rate of infection and the exponential effect it has had on our daily life, and the health care system in particular, has been horrifying.

Initially, this made me quite worried. Throughout the first waves I was concerned. Not to the extent of washing shopping bags and changing clothes after being outside, but I knew that the virus needed to be treated with respect, and precautions needed to be taken. The first waves seemed somehow more manageable and controlled, but with Omicron my fears have been amplified. An early report of a new variant didn’t surprise me; it did cause a small spike in adrenaline when news came that the cases were spreading like wildfire.

This left me with a sense of inevitability: I will get the virus at some point and it will impact my life in ways I can only imagine. Over the last couple of months I have become somewhat reclusive. I’m inside most days, venturing out only to do some shopping or for a quick walk around the block.  I would prefer to limit my potential exposure by being on my own most of the time. I’ve not been running recently, nor have I been painting (or writing, obviously !) so I’ve become bored and restless and occasionally sad. And angry.

I know that I am not alone in having these emotions. This is a difficult time for everyone, whether we choose to admit it or not. As humans we need social connection and support. It’s not healthy to be alone for long periods of time. We need validation for what we do and how we feel. Being a productive and valued member of society is important to self-worth and happiness. Not having these things in our lives for more than 2 years has implications now, and those will reverberate for years to come. These are the things that make me restless and sad.

Today came more contradictory messages from our Provincial government. Cases may be coming down but the number of people in hospital continues to increase, and will do so for the foreseeable future. So they are considering lifting some of the current restrictions. If you feel sick, then stay at home; we don’t really have enough tests to tell you whether you are infected in any case. It’s this sort of “anemometer approach to pandemic planning” (as Robyn Urback called it in the Globe and Mail) that makes me angry. Decisions are being made on the basis of reviving political support, rather than on the advice of recognized medical advice. Look where that’s got us so far.

So in the end I have not a lot to say about recent events in my life, but somewhat more to say about how the pandemic has affected my outlook. I’m physically alone but not alone emotionally in my reactions. Perhaps you recognize some similarities in your own situation. Hopefully, some day soon, we’ll be able to share thoughts together over a coffee or a glass of vino. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. A distant light, but a light nonetheless. Hopefully, it’s not a train….

Opinion: Ontario is playing politics with classroom learning, with kids as the collateral damage – The Globe and Mail

* * * *

P.S. After I finished writing this post, I watched the following interview with Dr. Angela Rasmussen. There were two messages that resonated for me: the first being the potential for the spread of a further more lethal wave, and the second, her viewpoint on living in Canada.

Famed virologist Angela Rasmussen on Omicron’s origins, what’s next for the pandemic | CBC.ca

2022

November 20:

I decided to accept the position because I think Garden Court is a special place to live. Early in its’ life it won the Governor General’s Award for architecture. Our home combines elements of architecture, heritage, and landscaping. Many aspects of the buildings are unique to this day and one challenge will be to ensure that they can be protected and enhanced going forward.

We’ve been dealing with a 2 year construction project (coincident with the pandemic) that has many residents on edge. At one point, my 90-year-old neighbour stood in front of a backhoe, trying to stop further trenching for an electrical conduit. At the time, is was understandable and amusing; now it would be my responsibility – on some level – to try and resolve the situation without further damage or insult. A challenge for certain, and one that may generate fodder for these pages in the future.

And while we are talking however obliquely about it, let’s mention leadership. Friends will know that I have developed a small rant about political leaders and their current lack of leadership. Granted, the pandemic brought many of our political figures to the fore and some of them occasionally showed incisiveness and determination. My belief is that at those infrequent times, they were actually following the advice of bureaucrats and others who focus on the dangerous reality rather than politics. Consider Drs. Tam and Henry as examples.

At other times, we got platitudes and poor decisions based on the direction of the political wind. Our low-brow former drug-dealing Premier somehow felt it was appropriate to open the malls to shoppers while the pandemic was warming up for another round. And our sanctimonious Prime Minister continues to find groups that he professes to “stand with” while not actually doing much of anything to make our country a more equitable place to live.

I’m tired of living in a country that was once much better than it is today. We “punched above our weight” in many respects and had leaders the like of Pearson and Davis. Now, we are not being lead by leaders so much as being left to the machinations of politicians looking to popularity polls. Leadership involves difficult and unpopular decisions and it seems to me that these days we are not seeing that done very often. I’m sure that these words will come back to haunt me as “leader” of the GCTA, but that’s a topic for another day.

cowboys herding cats – Bing video

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.