Yesterday, my first day back at the country house, was a transitional day. Transitional days are not my favourite days, but if I want to gad about, then I must tolerate transitional days, they go with the territory.
Attila is still recovering from his session with Hogweed, and had asked me to purchase an antihistamine for him, which I did. He ran out of his original supply on Sunday, and the itching was getting progressively worse. He slept very little on Sunday night, due to the itching, and by the time I arrived home he looked gaunt with lack of sleep. The antihistamine I brought home for him worked wonders within a half an hour, allowing him to sleep soundly through the night last night. He looked refreshed and very relieved this morning.
I had mixed feelings about coming back to the mosquitoes. It was lovely to see Attila, hear his voice, hug him and laugh with him. However, Attila is mostly at work when he is awake, so there isn’t much time for interaction. That leaves me, on my own, in the house, with mosquitoes clinging in droves to the screens, wishing they had access to the interior of the house, or that I would venture into the outdoors where they would have a chance at a feast. Little bloodsuckers! I can look at the outdoors, but I would not choose to spend any time out there. During the late spring and early summer, I am housebound at the country house, due to the intense insect population.
It takes work to feel content when one is housebound. I have my techniques, which have to be mindfully implemented in order to be effective. While at the little house in the city I could wander outdoors at any time of day, to work in the garden, take out the compost, or any of a number of activities. I didn’t have to think about it, I had true freedom of movement. It was even possible there, to stand in the driveway and chat with neighbours! We have wonderful neighbours at the little house in the city.
At the country house there is not the freedom of movement that I can take for granted at the little house in the city. Outdoor oriented tasks require chemical repellants or protective clothing. I usually line up a few tasks that need this sort of personal preparation, and then perform them all at once, so that I only need apply chemicals to my skin, or gear up with special protective clothing once, to get the jobs done. It can be done, but it takes a bit of getting used to.
The neighbours at the country house are an altogether different kettle of fish, than the neighbours at the little house in the city. At the country house most of our neighbours are very affluent seasonal recreators, who are friendly in their own way, which usually consists of wanting something; asking me to rake their yards, or watch their property for them when they are away (with NO thought to reciprocity), or having some sort of comment about what we should be doing with the property. They are recreating, we are eaking out a living in the reality behind the “smoke and mirror” of their fantasies. The few neighbours we have that live here year round are busy catering to the seasonal recreators; that is they are busy maintaining the “smoke and mirror” fantasy. This is required if one wants to make a living in this area, where the economy is totally dependent on seasonal residents It is a very specialized form of tourism. Many of the locals here experience extreme envy and resentment towards the affluence of the “cidiots”, without whom there would be no local economy at all.
I do not like the “neighbourhood” or “community” which surrounds the country house. This may be the ultimate NIMBY location in Ontario, perhaps even Canada. They don’t call us the Malibu of the North for nothing.
I have ancestral roots in the area. During that time the majority of the population lived and worked in these communities, with some rare exceptions. The communities consisted of hard working, intelligent and caring people. That world is all but gone. Rural properties are predominantly owned by seasonal “residents”, looking for development opportunities or prestigious recreational addresses. The local economy seeks to serve the seasonal property owners. Most of the rural world I knew as child is resting, peacefully forgotten, in the cemeteries. The seasonal people, with their affluence, urban expectations, and fantasies, have almost completely overtaken this countryside.
All those executives that have sociopathic and psychopathic qualities, they are the ones that can afford, and own, property here. Their influence permeates every aspect of life.
Reading this over, I see that living in the “community” where our country house is located is a source of unhappiness in my life. It is a good investment, owning property in such an area. Oh, but the cost!
Attila and I have our eyes open for the opportunity to move on, in a way that is positive, and will not impoverish us completely. When that window opens we will be climbing through it.
A sense of belonging is a basic human need. This is a seasonally oriented community, that I do not want to belong to; that is a problem.
I needed to write about these things, that is part of the transition from a location I like, to a location I do not like.
Now I will move on to being at the country house and making the best of it. “If it isn’t OK, then it isn’t finished.”
Attila woke me up this morning, announcing that the power was out. I called the power outage phone number and was informed that more than 10,000 customers had no power, and that the estimated wait time, for the return of services, was three hours. Attila decided to go to work early, and to come home for breakfast after the power was restored. As soon as the power came back on, a few hours later, I called Attila at work, and home he came for a bite to eat and a coffee.
This morning the township is trimming a tree across the road. Large noisy trucks, and a towed chipper have been brought in. I wonder what criteria they use for choosing trees to fell or trim. Certainly the huge dead branches, on the oaks along the township road allowance, in front of our house, pose a threat to people strolling by and vehicles driving by. It is the township’s call though.
The only time I contacted them about an issue, relating to an unapproved roadway being built along the side of our property, they failed to investigate the subject of my concern, and instead sent an inspector to our house to “inspect” us. Since there were no issues at our house, it was a wasted visit, and the issue I was concerned about went unaddressed. I got the hint though, if I contact them they will send in the bureaucrats to inspect my home. After one experience, I have decided not to attempt to interact with the township again. We are not affluent or influential enough to have our voice heard, without a fight. I have more important battles on my plate.
Condition: Mostly Cloudy
Pressure: 100.9 kPa
Visibility: 16 km
Wind: NE 13 km/h
“Everything will be alright in the end; if it’s not alright then it’s not the end”.
Line by the character Sonny in the movie The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.