The Boat that Came Back

 

This will be a simple story of faith in humankind.

Opening weekend at the cottage - this year for us it was a May 22 to 25 extended weekend - has many tasks.  That's why we conscript the strong backs of family members to come along and help make it happen.  

One of the tasks that got done that weekend was carrying our small runabout boat out from the boathouse and onto the dock.  Next step would be to put on the motor and put it in the water, as seen here in a picture from last year.  But we didn't get to it.  No worries.  It was up safely on the black dock and would be fine until we came back to stay in two weeks.

That's what we thought.

After our return, it took us a few days to even notice it was missing.  We're used to seeing the dock empty as well as with a boat parked on top.  And the flurry of opening can be distracting.  So it's understandable.  But that week, after a heavy rain when Ken felt he should go over to bail it out....it wasn't there.

The boat itself isn't any great thing.  It was purchased by Ken's Grandmother in 1955, he thinks, so it's rocking 70 years old.  It's of standard design, well-made, been painted more times than we can remember, and has had the seats replaced a few times too.  Last year we purchased a new motor for this boat, with the hopes that this year we could begin some decent lessons for the younger ones.  So, no great thing, but pretty special to us.

There's an unspoken Cognashene code up here.  Nobody bothers your property.  Call it a throw back to simpler times when decent honest living and the trust that arises from that was a real thing.  But honestly, any reports of stolen items or break and enters are largely unheard of up here.

I will say that we did have an antique cedar canoe get lifted from the old boathouse that year we couldn't put the door on the large front opening properly, and you could see in.  We figured it was too much of a temptation for some eager collector with an apparently underdeveloped conscience.  But other than that, no problem.

We considered whether or not we should notify the police.  We also considered whether it actually just blew off the dock -- no one could remember tying it down -- and floated along the channel somehow.  We did a quick cruise back and forth but didn't see anything.  Then we had to come back to the city, and decided to pick things up when we got back.  

Except when we got back....

...there she was, in all her glory.  Someone had taken the time and the effort not just to bring our boat back to our dock, but to drag it right up onto the rocks and tie it up properly, which is what we should have done in the first place.

So cedar canoes notwithstanding, perhaps there is no throw back.  Maybe it's all still happening now.  Maybe, obviously, common decency and human goodness is still very much a thing.

Of course it is.

And of course we all have a part in making it so.

So a big, big thank you to the kind person who returned out boat.  I'm hoping to spread the word around here to see if we can discover who it was so as to say a proper thank you.  Might even make a big sign and just attach it to the boat, hoping whoever it was drives by and knows how much we appreciate it.

Here's to kids' boating lessons this summer!

Here's to securing your boat properly!

Here's to the basic decency in human hearts that makes the world so much of a better place!

Rationing the Chia Seeds

 

"Teach us to number our [chia seeds] 

so that we may gain a heart of wisdom."

Psalm 90:12 

Standard Cottage Translation

Three things to know for what's to follow.

One is that we are on an island and that means groceries and supplies have to be carefully anticipated.  There's no running out to quickly fetch something.

The second is that, with the price of gas so volatile right now, we have promised ourselves to be extra prudent in how many trips back and forth to the marina we're going to make.  So it's that much more important to think carefully through any shopping list.

The third is that due to some recent necessary dietary changes, I have added chia seeds to my regular intake (emphasis on 'regular').

Truth be told, I had no idea you could add chia seeds to so many things, and that they had such a repertoire of results.  I won't go into all their benefits here; you can check it out with a quick Google search if you're interested.  Let's just say that chia seeds are now a regular item on our grocery list.  Not only are they included in my morning protein smoothie, but they add a fun texture to this chia seed chocolate pudding that is super easy to make and loaded with other good things like yogurt, avocado, banana, turmeric and honey (full recipe on request).  It's now my go-to desert.

We had lots up here, I thought.  But when Ken did a quick (necessary) trip back to KW last weekend, I asked him to stop by Bulk Barn (best bang for your buck on chia seeds) and bring back a bag-full to replenish my stock.  Which he did.  And then, as often happens, they got left behind in the van.  He remembers having to re-sort a bag to make something fit better....and that's it.

Our next scheduled trip off the island isn't until July 2nd or 3rd.  Everything else has been stocked up.  So, because of our determination not to make unnecessary trips back and forth, and because I still do have some chia seeds, and because I don't mind a challenge, I am now into day four of seeing if I can make this work.

It's kind of fun.  You look at something quite differently when you believe it to be scarce.  You measure more carefully, plan more specifically, and relish or at least appreciate every portion dolled out.  It's not the first time I've noticed this up here.  Shampoo, milk, toilet paper, peanuts for the chipmunks...whatever it is, if you're running out, you're just that little bit more mindful. 

Of course the best thing is when you apply your years of cottage wisdom and stock up on everything, like, all the time, which is usually what we do, sure.  But every once in a while you don't catch it, forget to put something on the list, or leave a bag in the van.  At least this time it wasn't anything spoilable.

Okay, confession, but you already caught this, so, for what it's worth.  The original Hebrew text for Psalm 90:12 does not contain the words 'chia seeds.'  It's 'days,' as in days of our life.  And now the chia seeds themselves are but an echo of a much greater thing; the gift that is each moment "we live and move and have our being" (Acts 17:28).

Not for me, but for someone I deeply care about, this is much more real than the threat of running out of a needed grocery item.  Diagnoses with estimated life spans attached to them can really mess with your head, unless you tune your heart.  If you do, if you can, like my friend has been able to, every day becomes a cherished thing, the way it should be for all of us, but just that much more beautifully real for some.  This I have found to be true when facing my own oh-so-much-less-serious-but-with-some-long-painful-nights health issues.  In the middle of the suffering is where cherished things become more astounding.

I am not to the point of counting out my chia seeds one by one, which would be ridiculous.  But I am grateful for these tiny reminders that help me stop and marvel at every good thing that fills --

Wait.  Ken's just come in to tell me something ---

He says he's surprised and somewhat distraught to discover that he has only four days of Coke left!!!  Previously planned departure is eight days out.  He's just announced that, in order to prevent an emergency situation of catastrophic proportions, we're going into town, likely Sunday.

Which means I can fetch my chia seeds.

And thus endeth the lesson.

In the Moments

"If you look at little kids and wild animals,
these are two groups of things that 

whenever I'm with them 

forces me to be in the moment."
Dominic Monaghan

Two slightly unusual and also sweet interactions with critters happened yesterday.  I make no apologies whatsoever for my Disney-princess vibe here, just sayin.'

One was with a chipmunk who literally came and greeted me, seemed excited to see me even, as I finished my paddle around the island and came back to the dock.

Of course I had no peanuts with me, so the encounter ended up being just a friendly hello, and no picture because I really didn't think of it, just being in the moment as I was.  Still, he did stay with me on the dock, up close and personal, and impossibly cheerful, while I tied up and put away my paddle.  Then off he bounded along the rocks on his way to find breakfast on his own.

First time that's ever happened, down on the dock, I mean.

The second interaction was more of a sighting really.

Two brand new jenny wrens left their nest and rested on the deck railing just for a bit before flying off into their grown up lives.

I stopped everything, just to be in this moment with them.  Leaving the nest day?!!!   I believe this deserves a teeny bit of pomp and circumstance!

I had the presence of mind for pictures this time, since every graduation needs some.  These were taken through the window from a respectful distance.  I didn't dare step out onto the deck proper and risk frighting them off to the rocks below before they were actually ready to take flight.

This is unusually unusual in that we have jenny wrens every single year in one or both of the birdhouses that are fixed onto the front and side of the cottage.  Their chirping call is among the first noises of the morning at sunrise.

Every single year I am aware of the nest-building that begins almost as soon as we get here.  Every single year it's obvious when the eggs have hatched because both Mom and Dad, in a very equal kind of parenting partnership, make constant trips with juicy, squirming insects in their beaks.  Shortly after that, every single year, we are treated with the excited signature chirping, as the new hatchlings grow strong enough to be heard, a little louder every day.  

But, every single year up until now, one day it all just stops.  All the activity ends, and the birdhouse is quiet.  Everyone's gone.

I have never seen any of the babies depart.  Until now.

And it was the first time I was ever greeted back from my time in the kayak by a chipmunk on the dock.

So it was a happy day of little critter encounters.  Somewhat unique ones on this day, yes, but actually a feature in some form every day here.  Someone pays a visit and I learn something new, spending the moment, being in the moment with them.  

There.  All sappy and Disney-princess-like, like I said.  

Dominic Monaghan, by the way, is the actor who portrayed Merry in the film adaptation of Lord of the Rings (2001), just so you know.

Wishing you sappy, informative, randomly cute moments to be in today, however they might happen for you.

Patterns

 

Listen, my son (or daughter) to your father's instruction

and do not forsake your mother's teaching.

They are a garland to grace your head

and a chain to adorn your neck.

Proverbs 1:8-9

A saw horse is a handy thing up here, given how much of our own firewood we glean from naturally fallen trees on the property.  Not to mention dock building, and other repairs, and upgrades that require some carpentry.

We've had one or two up here since before I can remember.  Ken says his Dad built them back in the day.  One has fallen apart long ago, and the other was not looking so good either.  So, using left over new lumber from building the bunkie, Ken followed the same basic pattern as his Dad's sawhorse and built a new one.  Not exactly the same, but pretty close, just with new material.

Makes sense to use the same basic pattern.  The old one was sturdy and served the family well for probably close to 80 years now.  The structure and design were obviously solid.  We'll engrave 2026 on this one and see how long it lasts.  Or at least, our grandchildren will.

It strikes me that this is basically what parenting is.  Providing enduring instruction and structure that can be replicated; patterns for living that the next generation can build on.

I will say here what can't be a surprise because it's just everyone's truth; our parents weren't perfect.  And while the sawhorse lasted and is worthy of repeating, not everything, on both sides of our family, was.  But there were enough good things passed along to make me take another look at Proverbs 1:8-9 and be grateful for what's been handed down to me...and also, to be soberly reminded.

The intent of the entire book of Proverbs is a common ancient near eastern genre of writing where a parent, most usually a father, collects his life's lessons in a volume to pass along to his children, usually the first born son.  (In that, it is good to note that the author's mention of references to the child's mother was quiet 'inclusive' for its day.)  So the intended audience, then, is the next generation.  

But the implied corollary to this, and here's where I am soberly reminded, is that the father and mother must have something of worth to pass along.  A sawhorse pattern, if you will, that's going to be solid and long lasting.

Believe me, yes, I know, there's enough parental guilt flying about the cosmos at any given time to crush us all.  I do not intend to add any more.  And there's so many ideas and opinions and models of and about raising children to flabbergast the best intentioned among us.  I will not attempt to push for my own.  

What comes to me these days, instead, as I approach 70, and as I realize more and more that my opportunity to build any kind of legacy to leave anyone grows short, is how essential it is to first be teachable myself if I assume to teach; to be grounded in a secure sense of myself, if I'm going to try to come alongside another in the process of their own identity formation.  

I wonder, then, if the best gift I can offer my children and grandchildren, and anyone else I may have any instructive role whatsoever, is ongoing and life-giving practices of spiritual formation that will aid me as I seek to cooperate with the work of God's Spirit within me.  The inner work that will ground me.

What patterns do I want to leave behind?

At my age, these would be patterns already evident in my own becoming.

I had better make sure they are worth handing down.

Of course, just like Ken used new wood to build the new sawhorse, and also adjusted the structure slightly, my kids and grandkids will find their own building materials, and remake things that best help to forge their own lives.  Just like Ken's new sawhorse, while bearing some resemblance, looks very different than his Father's, so the next generation will construct new ways of thinking and loving and living out what God directs them to do and be.  I celebrate that.

But there's a pattern.

Something to build on.

Something worthy of replication.

At least, I hope so.

The Sound of Wordless Worship

 But ask the animals, and they will teach you, 

or the birds in the sky, and they will tell you; 

or speak to the earth, and it will teach you, 

or let the fish in the sea inform you. 

Which of all these does not know 

that the hand of the Lord has done this? 

Job 12:7-10

Sunday on my own.

A seldom-solitude breathes worship into all the little spaces,

making the day 'more' somehow,

right from the get go.

I am eager to learn.

Early on the deck,

then out on the water.

Otters, a deer, several ducks, a large turtle.

They all know.

So do the blue jays,

but let's face it.

They're here mostly for the peanuts.

I say nothing.

I sing nothing.

I am here to learn.

Teach me,

inform me.

I want to know what you know.

A wordless worship in sounds magnificent;

the language of those who know.

One Man's Trash, Another Man's Glory

 

Here's an interesting discovery.  An old bottle left on the ground out back of the cottage has turned itself into a very pretty little terrarium.

Ken's family has owned the place for over a hundred years, so it's not uncommon for us to find antique glassware here and there, mostly inside on the shelves of forgotten corners in the older buildings.  But sometimes, alas, scattered in various places on the property.  

This, however, is a first.  

I couldn't help but think this is what it's like when human carelessness, disrespect or negligence is somehow transformed into life and growth and joy.  It's a defiant thing, all growing and green regardless.

Paul wrote:

We also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance, perseverance character, and character hope."  Romans 5:3-5

Here's to the finding of forgotten things full of hope.

The Treasury of a Legit Rainy Day

 The LORD will open to you His good treasury,

the heavens, to give to your land in its seasons,

and to bless all the work of your hands.

Deuteronomy 28:12

The whole time we've been up here the weather has been a tad off and on.  June has not yet produced a long string of summery days, although we've had the fans going the odd day here and there.  And also, no string of rainy days exactly, either.   We've had rainy periods, afternoons or mornings.  And then some really cold mornings as low as 9 C.  But much of it has been 'variable.'  Variable clouds, variable showers, variable temps, cloudy with sunny breaks, just here and there.

Today I want to call this a legit rainy day.  And while there's still periods where it stops for a while, and the next round of showers seem to be just warming up, mostly there's been that lovely cottage rainy day vibe.

There's something about hearing it on the roof first thing in the morning that sends the universal signal of approval to sleep in just a little bit.  And now the fire's on, not because it's all that cold, but just because it chases away that damp feeling, and no one is complaining about the added level of cozy.

Drops on the windows.  Little puddles on the deck.  You can see the rain on the water. Everything hushed under the sound of it.  

My otter friends don't mind the rain.  They dropped by, the three of them, for the first time, to say hello and sample our reeds, and fish a little between our dock and the shoal.

Abby was able to catch them in a rare moment when all were surfaced and looking at her in the same direction.  I call them Larry, Curly and Moe.  And unless someone can tell me that otters usually travel in packs of three, I'm going to claim that these are the same three silly dudes that have visited before, and even accompanied me part way around the island some mornings in the kayak.

The blue jays don't mind the rain either, apparently.  They arrive on the deck railing right in front of where I'm sitting, wondering if there are any peanuts to be had today.  But no.  As cute as you are, I'm staying indoors today.  Try again tomorrow.  

I'm glad for the rain for the blueberries' sake.

So much potential, and a few patches that are 'new' this year, in that there are green berries on plants that haven't been fruit-bearing before.  Looking good so far, but it can all change depending on the rain between now and mid July.  So bring it on.

A day to bake cookies.  That's just a given.  No pictures yet because that's what I'll be doing next.  After this.  Because the morning was spent in quiet concentrated work at the computer, looking out at it all, enjoying the cozy work vibe happening here on a rainy day.

I am receiving the blessing of Deuteronomy 28:12 this day.  Just...receiving it.

And spreading it out to you, wherever you are, raining or not.