Island Living

Hubby and I did some minor cottaging this past weekend.  More like island living.  His family’s family has a little island on a little lake.  It’s amazing.  We sometimes get to visit, and we were lucky enough to spend this past Sunday sitting on the dock in the hot sun.

There are many things I adore about island living.  It occurred to me, though, that there are two sides to island life... much like living in a small town – pros and cons.  

For example, pro of living in a small town: everyone knows everyone.  Con of living a small town: everyone is related to everyone.  

So, I thought I’d share some of the really lovely things about island living.  And some of the minor downsides as well.  

First, there is nothing better than resting on a dock, soaking up the sun, eating little cubes of watermelon. 

However, while little cubes of watermelon have a real “we’re so classy” feel, the cold buckets of Kentucky Fried Chicken, although delicious, tend to exude a different “y’all toss me a drumstick” sorta vibe.

Second, the buildings on the island are exceedingly charming.  They were built in, like, the early 1900s, or something.  They have real character – screen doors out of every room, nooks and crannies, and they make you wonder what the walls would say if they could.

On the other hand, they were built in, like, the early 1900s, or something, so they require a lot of up-keep (and, in the case of the adorable floating boathouse, are sometimes feared to be a possible safety hazard, or, at the very least, a bat cave).

Finally, people to and from the island are so welcoming and kind.  Hubby honks the car horn at everyone he passes.  And they all wave.  At one point, driving home, there were two guys sitting on lawn chairs between the highway and the lake shore with fishing rods dipping into the water.  When Hubby honked, they each quickly raised their free arm in the air above their heads without even turning around.  Priceless.

Unfortunately, welcoming and kind can sometimes coincide with hick-ish tendencies.  At the Tim Horton’s on the way home there was a really sad little kid at the cash.  He was nice enough, but unfortunate at the same time.  Mostly because his name was Yardley.  No, I’m not kidding.  Yardley.  Enough said. 

Anyway, it was a gorgeous day, at a lovely lake, on a perfect little island, with a truly wonderful bunch of people.  We can’t wait to go back.  

Larry, Hubby, and Moe

We were at a friend’s wedding recently, and Hubby’s best buddies were there too.  It was so cute, seeing them all together.  They’re like the three stooges, but more idiotic.  Larry, Hubby, and Moe.  

The whole day was filled with constant taunting and teasing and practical joking.  It was hilarious.  

Larry was taunted because his shirt was the exact same bright teal blue as some other guy.  Moe kept repeating a line from Seinfeld, when Kramer and Mickey are going on a double date and both want to wear the same shirt.  Mickey says to Kramer, “We can’t BOTH wear the shirt!  We’ll look like IDIOTS!”

Hubby teased Larry for refusing to eat his butternut squash soup and spinach salad.  And for thinking that Yorkshire pudding was actually pudding.  And for insisting on sneaking out at midnight.

Larry taunted Hubby for drinking his beer out of a glass.  And for spilling food on his 650-dollar pants.

When Moe went to the washroom, Larry shook salt onto his plate – piled high onto one little piece of cauliflower.  “More, more!” Hubby cheered.  There was so much salt that Larry had to spread it out with a knife.  Too bad that Moe didn’t eat his vegetables.

When Larry went to the washroom, Hubby rimmed his beer bottle with sugar.  The look on Larry’s face was priceless – surprise, mixed with disgust, mixed with confusion, mixed with laughter.

Later, Hubby offered to get Larry a beer.  “What kind?”  “Surprise me.”  Hubby got him the same kind he already had.  “I said surprise me!”  “That is a surprise – you weren’t expecting the same one...  Surprise!” 

After dinner they all danced like idiots.  Hubby hung his arm around Moe’s shoulder, with Moe’s arm around Hubby’s waist.  Hubby would lift his feet and Moe would spin in circles.  Hubby would paddle his legs while spinning – full-on stooges style – running in circles in mid air.

When the pub snacks came out, the stooges somehow decided that the pizza smelled like puke.  No, I don’t know why.  Well, sure I do.  Because they’re idiots.  “Welcome to the pizza puke corner” they said when I approached them. 

The three stooges were in rare form that night.  It was a ridiculous fun-fest.  Yuk yuk yuk.