April 26, 2011

I'll stay

My sweet, tiny cottage isn't mine actually. This dear spot that makes me Cottage Girl is a pile of bricks and cement and wood that belongs to the camp where I live/work. It's old. At least 50 year, we think. No one really knows for sure.

It has weird quirks. The floor, original wood floors under wall to wall carpet, creaks and groans with each step. Most, if not all of it, is un-even. Wobbling to and fro. There are cracks in the cement that holds the blocks together. Those darn cement blocks that are such a pain to paint. They soak up any type of paint like a sponge and leave tiny holes with each layer.

It's drafty and COLD in the winter. No amount of heat can seem to stay inside. With no insulation in the roof or the floor, there's little guessing as to where it all goes. The same can be said in the summer, except that it takes a long while for those block walls to get warm. You can curl up to them in the summer to cool off, if need be.

It isn't wired well. My roommate and I have blown fuses and circuit breakers more times that I can count or remember. We always have to tell each other if we are blow drying our hair because if we both do it at the same time....disaster.

Our bathroom is pretty much the smallest one I've ever seen. But I've gotten used to that. And the closets...oh, wait....closets? We don't really have those. One in each bedroom (they were only installed about 10 years ago) and one in the kitchen. That's it. Storage is always a problem. But hey, it helps me have less stuff.

In spite of all the annoyances that Cottage offers, it also offers my very favorite thing of almost any other building at camp. The view. It is unbelievable. Simply, beautiful. Simply jaw dropping. A little cottage on the water with the perfect view to match.

So, when things at camp are in the "change" stage. When there are other places available to live on the other side of the property, where everyone else lives. In nice, new townhouses that are shiny and bright and clean and not made of 50 year old blocks. When the offer rolls around once every few years and I (we) get asked, "so, do you want to move?" And I will admit that I do complain about the Cottage. It does drive me crazy at times. It's little quirks aren't so cute at 2am when the heat dies yet again and the house is 40 degrees inside. But, when I get asked, I still have to say no. I want to stay.

The Cottage is my home. I've spent 10 years inside its walls. It's heard my secrets and has memory soaked walls from smoothie parties and dinner club and friend's laughter and Lost parties and Sept 11 tears and dance parties and snakes crawling on the TV and raccoons and lost dogs and sleep overs. So many memories. So many dear thoughts that envelop me when I step through the doors. And that view. The "to die for" view. I know that if I ever leave this place, I can pretty much guaruntee that I won't have a view like this. Why would I want to give that up?

So, Cottage Girl I am Cottage Girl I'll stay. As long as I'm allowed.

1 comment:

Gina said...

wow. i actually did tear up to the reference to Sept 11 tears. those were MY tears. My answer to the "where were you?" question will always bring me to the couch in the cottage, sobbing in a cloud of fear and unknown....... many memories inside those walls for me as well. Mike and I danced on those squeaky floors while shay shay coached. :))))) makes me realize I need to dance with him again. the season 1 Lost finale....CRAZY!!!!!!!!!!! and MANY hours of survivor viewing. ahhh the cottage.
thanks for that walk down memory lane. and thanks for all the continuing memories you invite me to make with you and that roommate of yours.