Diary of an inheritance, continued...

(This is the fifth and last segment of a diary recording the two week vacation in July 2001, when Heather and I entered into my inheritance - accepting, and beginning to transform, a dilapidated and mouse-infested shack deep in the Quebec woods.)

Day 12

Nope. Roof’s not done yet.

The day started badly - I was up at 5 a.m. - having not slept a wink - to put the dog out (did I mention that Socrates has not been an entirely happy part of this trip?)

He had been fussing, scratching at the door, and pacing even more than usual right through the night, but I didn’t put him out - partly because of the risk that he would go over to Tim and Diana’s and bark, but also because the night before he tried to chase a bear.

Tuesday night I had heard something very large under our house. There were heavy steps, and twigs cracking as of a heavy creature simply passing through. I thought it was a very big beaver (there are several on the lake - to the point of being pests), so I didn’t mind letting Socrates out while (old man awakened at night) I made a quick trip to the outhouse. The dog was actually in a frenzy to get out. He charged into the underbrush in the direction of the unknown animal. I didn’t suppose he could catch a beaver - they can travel quickly, and be in the water in a flash; but - judging from the sounds - the creature seemed to have moved uphill, not towards the water. I wasn’t thinking about bears. None had ever been sighted in these woods while I was growing up, and they are not part of my cottage eco-consciousness. I shone my light towards the noise, but saw nothing. However, I heard the big thing moving deeper into the forest. Socrates is as deaf as a post these days, so I couldn’t call him back, but given the size of the creature, I felt a bit relieved when the dog returned on his own. His enthusiasm for the chase was, however, remarkable.

The next morning Heather was down at the front of the house and saw one distinctive, berry-filled, bear dropping - familiar to us from years of bear safety at Riding Mountain and other campgrounds in bear country. She mentioned it to Tim and Diana, and sure enough, it turns out bears have returned to this neck of the woods - indeed, when I think of it, the garbage pickup bin has been built in bear-proof style, and Tim confirmed that it was built, and garbage regulations enacted, directly because of bear sightings.

We figure that Socrates, for all that he is deaf and has cataracts, smelled the bear doing it’s thing, and had gone into attack mode.

So last night there was no way I was letting him out, however much he might pace and scratch.

But I couldn’t take it any more when it had become light, birds were beginning to sing, and his pacing had not stopped. Could you remind me why we brought the dog???  I decided to get up and put him outside, but tie him to a long rope (so he wouldn’t go over to Tim and Diana’s). And, since it was morning, maybe I would stay up and get a truly early start on the roof ... well I couldn’t really start hammering until seven (too noisy), so maybe I’ll read and say my prayers and make a good breakfast.

It turned out the scratching at doors was very legitimate - Socrates had to relieve himself - badly. Once that was done, he decided the rope was very restrictive, and began to whine at the end of it. Meanwhile, I just couldn’t keep my eyes open. So I brought him in, he fell asleep on the floor, and I went back to bed. I didn’t know a thing until 10 a.m.

Some early start on the roof!

Kenny Hodge came over not two minutes after I opened my eyes, so I braced myself to go up on the roof immediately - without breakfast. But all Kenny wanted to do was apologize - he was going home for a while, so couldn’t give any more help. He just wanted to say “goodbye and really nice to see you again after all these years.”

So roofing started only after I had had a good breakfast and a couple of coffees. I am so utterly exhausted... my “get up and go” has entirely “got up and left.”  I thought that after two weeks of physical labour my energy levels and general fitness would be vastly improved - that’s how it used to be when I was younger - but it just hasn’t happened. I feel very, very elderly.

Up on the roof at 11:00 a.m., I didn’t stop until 7:00 p.m. Slowly, methodically - cutting pieces for the row ends, carefully placing everything, nailing, measuring, placing, nailing - I worked continuously, only stopping for water, and a quick lunch. Tim came and helped out for two hours in the afternoon, and very real progress - pleasant, noticeable progress - began to be made. But at 7:00 p.m. it still wasn’t done, and for that I felt disappointment. Only one day left before we must set out for home, and the roof is still unfinished.

My knees were raw, and everything else on me hurt.

I limped over to Tim’s, where we have the great family sitting rock and swimming place. The weather had been hot and sunny all day (at last), and for the first time I felt I would like a swim. Truth be told I needed a swim.

After a very refreshing swim and visit, even though it was now about 8:00 at night, my day was far from over.

We had just sat down to a late dinner when Ross, his son Tyler, and a friend of Tyler’s came up from Montreal. Ross is taking a day off from work tomorrow because he wanted to be here for his sister’s last day at the cottage.  He also wanted to help with the roof some more.

Soon there was a Dixon board game in full swing over at Tim and Diana’s, but I didn’t go. Heather did, and on her way out she had said two things: “Have a nice quiet time by yourself, you need it,” and “I would sure like it if you could set up the new fridge under the sink counter for me.”

These two statements are not completely compatible. Nonetheless, thinking it would be a half-hour project, I opted to set up the fridge. I was still working on it at 12:45 a.m. Things hadn’t fit as expected. Some boards had to be moved, supports re-positioned. There was crowbarring, sawing, cutting and drilling metal brackets, hammering, then cleaning up to do. But, when it was finally finished, it looked quite nice indeed!

Not bad for an exhausted old man after a full day on the roof and a sleepless night before that!

Day 13

Finally!  All done!

It’s our last day at the cottage, and it had to be done.  I knew, however, when I once again climbed up the ladder, that finishing was possible.  I really had accomplished a lot in yesterday’s marathon.

So, stiff and sore, I set to work, and soon was into the rhythm.  In the early afternoon Ross and Tim joined in, and by 4:00 p.m. we were putting on the cap row at the top lip of the roof.

Heather and Diana came over to see how we were progressing just as I was setting in the last piece.  The camera was quickly found, and the moment was recorded.  Thursday, July 19, 2001, at 4:21 p.m.

What a relief!  We put away tools, and went for a swim.  There was much hilarity and good humour at the sitting rock.  After a while I returned to our cottage and slept for two hours.  When I awoke Heather had dinner ready, and then we began packing.

Day 14

Although it is mid-July, and we were only here for two weeks, we now had to close down the cottage for the winter.  Heather did the indoor packing, and I tried to make some sense of the ground around the building.  I picked up some of the construction debris, and bagged it for eventual transport across the lake to the dump.

Next year I shall have a small utility trailer, and the old roof will be slowly carted across the lake, put into the trailer and taken away.  For now, it must sit there - in bags, and a great portion still littering the forest floor - for the next fifty weeks!

Last night, while I was sitting and writing this diary, I looked up and saw a mouse scuttle across the kitchen floor.  He was heading towards me, in fact, until my startled “Uh oh!” caused him to turn around and disappear behind the kindling box.

I guess the place is his now for another year.

Note: Our adventures with this cottage continued in the summer of 2002.  An account of them may be found by clicking here.