Canadian cottage life

Montreal disguised as Africa
 It's that time of year again when we slip out of the city and live in the woods. Our last night in Montreal for a while and we decide to go out for a Greek. (Agora on Somerled v cheap and v good). Walking home I took some pictures including this one which show the city looking a little bit tropical. We hope it is a sign of things to come.
You toad
 The toads at the cottage were hopping about indicating warm weather we hope. We are managing without running water and only half our electricity at the moment but feeling very smug that we are roughing it (not really) and having to cook on the gas barbeque (not a hardship for Canadians - it's a bit like breathing) although my husband did manage to set fire to the merguez sausages last night.

The window seat of laziness
Here in the woods we busy ourselves with cleaning and setting  up the place ready for the summer. We notice the mosquitos have already arrived although not yet at full strength. I'm in that blissful period where I know the little blighters have bitten me but the bites are not yet killing me.

Wild strawberries soon to be mother-in-law's jam
Just looking around reminds you of summers gone by (this is our fifth since we emigrated from England in 2008). It's a strange feeling at this time of year - you feel you are treading in the footprints of previous summers and your path is all set out for you. You look at the lawn and know the flowers will turn to berries and eventually you will be eating jam made from them (not by me)
Sunset equals drinks on the porch
 We uncover the sofas on the porch and know we'll be spending many a night quietly sipping a drink and watching for deer. We know this because this is what we always do. We've already seen a rabbit, a pair of woodpeckers, red squirrel and a nuthatch in 48 hours. Then this morning during breakfast on the porch I heard the one sound that signals a Canadian summer more than any other. I heard the call of the loon.


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