2025 A Year of Challenge and Patience

June 26: My trip to Regatta Island begins in the heart of the city. After some 30 minutes of backstreets and stop signs, I arrive at the bottom of Highway 400  where it feels like the journey actually begins.  More than a dozen lanes wide, and hemmed in by factories, truck terminals and the occasional incongruous townhouse development, “the 400” is usually jammed with traffic. I join the northbound stream and hope for steady progress. Steele’s Avenue is the boundary of the City proper, and further north,  I enter the Greenbelt where our corrupt Provincial government is turning valuable and productive farmland into housing estates and highways. The views across these rolling open fields always reminds me of how beautiful southern Ontario can be, particularly during the Summer months, when the crops are fresh and verdant.

After an hour or so, traffic slows at Barrie where “the 400” veers off toward Georgian Bay and points further north. Highway 11 takes over and becomes narrower – only 2 lanes in each direction – and it enters a strip of small gas stations, boat repair shops, and antique stores with driveways onto the highway. These are relics from years past when Highway 11 was “the only way north”. They reflect a time when a lot of commercial use was out along the highway to take better advantage of the passing traffic.  There is now a median barrier separating north- and south-bound lanes, but I remember a time when here was no separation between the four lanes, and it seemed that every summer there would be an horrific crash as someone tried a left turn across on-coming traffic.

After passing through Orillia I reach Severn Bridge where  the Canadian Shield suddenly appears. Granite outcroppings and pine forests crowd the road like a gateway to cottage country.  Roadside businesses give way to thick forests and traffic thins out a bit more. Shortly after, we finally reach Bracebridge and the marina for a quick ride to the island. The transition from fully urban to resolutely rustic feels complete. But is it ?

When I bought the island, several well-meaning friends pointed out that I was “an old man” who would be completely alone for long periods of time, and, if I were to fall or have some other accident, it would be impossible for me to get help. They asked that I carry my cell phone at all times.  This seemed to be a reasonable thing to do, but I was reluctant.  I’m not a dedicated follower of technology, and the thought of being tied to the phone was unpleasant, so training myself to put the phone in my pocket was initially a bit hit and miss.  After a while it became  much more routine, and there’s the problem: I am never really “alone”.

Like so many people, I have become sensitive to the way the phone pings and vibrates with each new e-mail or text. I reflexively check to see what’s happening.  I check the Weather Network several times each day. News is available at the touch of a screen, and I can search building materials and hardware from the dock. Where this type of search might have involved my increasingly temperamental laptop in the City,  I now literally have the world in my pocket.

To be sure, there is a degree of convenience in this and there is security in knowing that help may be at hand should I need it. But the trade-off is that I now feel more tied to technology and the habitual screen time that it implies while I am on the island than I ever did while I was in the city. I can be totally alone and immersed in nature, yet I am repeatedly driven to technology each day. I know this has to change; I don’t wish to be pinged and buzzed while I enjoy Regatta. So in the next while my objective will be to limit screen time and resist the reflexive checking the phone for messages.  Instead, I’ll be listening to the Loons and Mergansers for a much more important message, one that’s worth the journey north.

As I look back on the last few pages, I see that I have been less than diligent about updating “the news”. There may be a few reasons for this.

Last Summer was a blur of things to do and things not done at the cottage. I was so preoccupied with those two extremes that there was precious little time for much else. These pages suffered.  After the Summer ended, I pretty much crashed for a while. I started with the idea that I should take few days to decompress from the work at the cottage and get back to life in the city and, after a while, sitting around became more of a habit than  it should. Nothing to report on here.

Our “Spring” season started this year with an unusual warm stretch in April that seemed to foretell an earlier than usual thaw. I was mistaken. The weather turned cool and wet, and it wasn’t until May that things really started to look promising again. Throughout the “false Spring” I was looking forward to getting back to the cottage, but that didn’t happen until May 6 – precisely one day earlier than I opened last year.

The welcoming party of  a pair of nesting geese was already there, and a pair of Merganser ducks showed up shortly afterward. During the night, Loons were calling across the lake and a pair of Barred Owls were chatting in the forest. A barrage of Humming birds appeared later in the week and immediately started a territorial war around the feeder. I find it reassuring that nature continues, almost on a predetermined schedule, year after year. This year was no exception.

A day prior to opening the cottage, I had a telephone consultation with an oncologist at Princess Margaret Hospital (PMH to us insiders). I had been referred earlier in the year because my Prostate Specific Antigen (PSA for club members) had been rising.  After an MRI and a biopsy, the Doctor was calling to confirm those test results. In short, it was good news: all of the samples had returned negative for cancer and I am being monitored to make sure that it stays that way.

Before I knew the results, I was fairly sure the tests would reveal that I had cancer. I have always thought – and I am getting more certain with age – that there is something in my future that will take my life, ready or not. If it was to be prostate cancer, then so be it. There is treatment and it is curative so I was fairly sure that it would not be terminal, yet the thought of now facing something that could significantly alter the course of my life was sobering. It’s a relief that I am cancer-free (at least for now) and a slap-in-the-face reminder of how quickly my life – and those or my contemporaries – might change.

So with all of that in mind, I head off to the cottage for a few days of planning and starting Summer projects. We (helper-mate Roy and I) are focusing on getting the kitchen set up and operating, taking down a wall to open it up to the new dining room, and finishing the new front porch.  Of course, there are dozens of smaller tasks within each of those jobs, and if anything exciting happens as we toil away, you will read about it here first !  I promise.

April 14: Those who know me well will find the caption to this piece confusing, because I am not, by nature, “a shopper”. I do “go shopping” from time to time. This happens most often when I go to the grocery store to buy the same eight or nine things I bought on the last trip. If it’s not on the list, it doesn’t get bought. I generally wear the same clothes repeatedly until they are either threadbare or so far out of fashion that I look like a throwback to the 70’s.

So it was a minor shock to find myself standing in a Nordstrom Rack store a few days back fondling expensive fashion items. Many will know that Nordstrom has decided to leave the Canadian retail scene and is having “final sales” prior to shuttering their stores. With Summer approaching, and my warm-weather wardrobe seriously wanting, I thought I might find a few bargains. I was disappointed, or perhaps I was just unaware of what things actually cost these days because nothing really seemed to be offered at a great price. How about a $385 wool sweater for $270 ?

In spite of that, I picked out a couple of shirts and pairs of shorts which will find a good home at the cottage. But rather than that minor buzz of euphoria usually associated with purchasing something new, I was left with a deep feeling of sadness. I stood for several moments and contemplated putting everything back because it just seemed so futile to buy this stuff that will ultimately hang in my closet, seldom used, and then be recycled through one of the clothing pick-up operations.

My new purchase carried with it the realization that these things will ultimately become obligations; they are a burden to be carried until we tire of them and move them along to someone else. It felt futile to be buying something that I only marginally wanted.

We are quickly becoming a city where the wealthy live privileged and pampered  lives  while many others struggle to make ends meet. To be clear: there are many wealthy people who have committed themselves to making life better for others through various foundations or donations. They are to be commended. But there is another stratum that seems immensely preoccupied by spending vast amounts of money on the most garish expression of their status. Bigger, uglier houses, more outlandish vehicles. Luxury clothing. And there is an attitude that says “I got mine and I don’t give a crap about anyone else. If you are homeless or unemployed, it’s your own fault. Get out of my way.”

I’m an aging Hippie and I guess that I have always thought that we owe people in our city more than that sort of attitude. With inflation rampant and more people living hand to mouth, my shopping excursion allowed me to see more completely how fortunate my life has been.  I can, at least, consider whether to buy some new duds for the cottage; many are not so well-off. As my Dad used to say “There but for the grace of God go I.”

George Carlin Talks About “Stuff” – Bing video

January 30:  I have often found the Autumn and Winter to be the most difficult seasons of the year. Where Spring is sparkling, sunny and rejuvenating, Autumn and Winter are dark, dreary and diminishing. I have often retreated into a period of sitting and waiting for the warmer weather to return, and this year has been only slightly better. We have had a somewhat warmer Autumn, with temperatures in positive territory, for much of January. This encouraged me to keep running on alternate days, and to hobble off to the gym when I had time.  The return to more normal temperatures means that I have not run for more than a week, and the gym has been a non-starter.

I completely understand that the lack of physical exercise has contributed to a downturn in my outlook, and I have begun to retreat to the couch to watch TV and think about various problems. This has meant that I have spent too much time considering the various ways that out imbecilic Provincial Premier is ruining the province (perhaps more on that later….). And as Chair of the Garden Court Tenant Association I am still grappling with an above-guideline rent increase request that will require organizing for a hearing at the Landlord and Tenant Board. The difficulties I found last year trying to find contractors for the cottage apparently also apply to paralegals who work in this field.

The thing is: All of this is well known to me.  It’s a seasonal shift in mood that I deal with to varying degrees every year. This year is no different.  When I have a moment and actually consider my life – everything that it involves – I realize how truly fortunate I am. As we say: “First world problems…”  There are many, including some friends, who are not in such a comfortable place and face much worse problems than me. Many in Toronto fall through the cracks as the economy continues to gyrate and societal supports are stretched to the limit. Recent violence on the streets and the transit system are reminders of how we have failed to care for those less fortunate and in need of care.

The snow filters down past the windows and I am warm and dry inside. I have an affordable place to live, and many friends who support me. I have a wonderful daughter and son-in-law and their rambunctious kids to remind of the future. I am comfortable financially and I do remind myself frequently that I own a private island in Lake Muskoka.  Not many can say that, and it is a privilege for me to do so.

So the blahs have arrived – again – and “this too shall pass”. My mood will lighten as the days lengthen and the prospect of Spring returns. Eight weeks to the end of March…..

September 28:  My avid reader has recently chastised me for the lack of new posts over the last months. Herewith, a few reasons (excuses ?) why there have been no recent posts:

While some work was underway at the time of the previous post, much has been done over the Summer and into the early Autumn. The cottage was opened May 7 and, as I have previously mentioned, I had to spend a good deal of time sorting out the inside to make it (barely) livable. I assembled and set up some outdoor furniture and planter boxes before worker mate Roy arrived to start on the real construction. We lifted the corner of the cottage and levelled the porch floor before framing in two sides to accommodate new windows in what would become the new kitchen. The exterior was covered in Tyvek and then trimmed out after the windows went in.  We also levelled and replaced the bathroom floor so that the new fixtures would have half a chance of being level.

The bathroom floor was tiled and the living room and bedroom #3 floors were painted. The southeast corner of the front porch was disassembled when we found that the supporting column for the roof was more or less hanging by a thread.  We fixed up the underpinning and after the better part of an afternoon “engineering”, we had a new support in the corner. The deck boards were replaced, eliminating the rotten plywood that passed for a porch, and the railings were removed, repaired, and treated to a coat of fresh paint.

The first week of August saw the construction of the new septic tank and field. Even though it is an Aquarobic system, which relies on a smaller tile field, I am still shocked by the size and extent of the finished work. It’s huge, and a number of smaller trees came down as John Archer and his crew did their best to maneuver a full size excavator in the outdoor equivalent of a closet. Some work is still to be done to try and protect the roots of some of the trees that may have been impacted as the work progressed.

The plumbers and electricians were next. I now have a bathroom with a clawfoot bath and, after many months of using a composting toilet, a working toilet. There’s nothing quite as satisfying as the first real flush. The electricians repositioned the breaker panel and roughed in plugs and fixtures for the kitchen.

At this point, we are left with a few small jobs before the cottage is closed for the season. We need to create Winter protection for the new kitchen windows and the new French door to the front porch. We need to do a small bit of work on the porch itself, and then get everything in the cottage in place for the Winter.

Closing is an inevitable but melancholy time for me. This year feels a bit different because the cottage hasn’t been a cottage in the traditional sense. It’s been a construction site. With the help of my good friend Roy, I’ve accomplished a lot that has been very rewarding (and expensive). But this hasn’t been a typical swimming and sitting in the sun vacation. Rather than thinking of the fun times we might have had over the Summer, this Winter I’ll be trying to figure out the next steps: How to finish the kitchen and bathroom; how to create a new dining room in the old kitchen; how I want to build a back porch and new home for the barbeque; how to finish my bedroom. Who knows ? I might even find a few moments to update this page. Time will tell…

 

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