Eliguk Jounal – April 20, 2025.

Spring has officially sprung at our resort, along with the songbirds—there’s also a small army of robins working the grounds, plucking worms from between the mud and patches of green grass like they were at an all-you-can-eat pasta buffet. I'm surprised the swallows aren't here yet, but relieved because once they arrive, the mosquitoes will also. The ice has finally decided to recede from its icy reign along the shoreline, allowing our dogs to frolic like deranged otters in the shallows whenever the temperature ventures above a balmy 12°C (54°F).

Before the ice was deemed unsafe, we embarked on our annual spring lake ice hike with the dogs, a tradition that perfectly blends the thrill of adventure with the questionable culinary choices of roasting that season's first—and probably last—hot dog. You might wonder why, in our already rustic cabin lifestyle, we must venture into the wild to strike a match and roast a hot dog. It’s simple, really! There’s something magical about pretending we’re explorers charting new territories or pioneers skillfully navigating the wilderness, without the fear of spring bears or patches of rotting ice. I have my Mountain Man by my side, who carries his trusty axe everywhere. It’s a valuable tool for chopping sticks for roasting hot dogs, fending off a bear, or getting himself out of a slippery situation if the ice gives way beneath his feet.

Ah, the changing seasons - where snow, sleet, and sunshine weave together like gradient yarn - coming undone as quickly as a hand-knit sweater that snagged a stray nail. It’s that time of year when my greenhouse transforms into a high-stakes, tension-filled game show. Forget “Survivor,” I’m here starring in “Extreme Greenhouse Weather Modification,” where I’m the frazzled host trying to keep my tomatoes and peppers from staging a rebellion! Opening and closing windows and doors faster than a Bellhop! One moment, I’ve got a sweltering 32°C (90°F) sauna going on, and the next, it’s “Surprise! Welcome to the Arctic!” My poor plants must think they’re in some kind of botanical Scientology experiment. But they look great and are growing fast, so we must be doing well - I say 'we' because we all know Stormy the dog was a gardener in his last life, and he is in his element here, even as we suffer through the hot spells.

But the crowning moment this week? When my husband decided to get all lumberjack on me, chain-sawing a runway through the water to lay out a hose like he was auditioning for “America’s Next Top Model: DIY Edition.” As he pulled out the big blocks of ice to make way for the pick-up hose, I could hear a choir of angels singing. Finally, a shower is in my near future! How can I not mention the triumphant first shower of the season? It’s like waiting for the next release of my favorite series—anticipation bubbling more than a pot of overzealous spaghetti. Most people can waltz into their bathroom and tap a faucet, but I’ve been living the rustic dream. For me, the prospect of running hot water feels like finding gold at the end of a rainbow. It’s an event worthy of a fireworks display (or at least, a very enthusiastic fist pump with a couple of high-fives).

I know we have the hot tub; don't get me wrong—I'm very grateful for that. It is the pièce de résistance of rustic luxury. But setting it up is an odyssey in itself: it takes half a day of labor just to make it function and about as much time to clean out the aftermath. Plus, let's face it - if we're both in the hot tub, we share the bathwater like rugged pioneers. In comparison, having a hot shower is the sensation of being freed from a lifelong hug by a clammy swamp monster.

We have many projects ahead, and there's strong motivation to wrap them up before milling begins in the next few months. While we were waiting for the mud to dry up around the mill site, of course, my husband thought, why not squeeze in another job? After a summer of heavy usage, the barge is ready for a new surface to enhance its durability and safety. This provides us with an excellent opportunity to remove the old boards and ensure the barge is well-prepared for another busy season ahead. The Jeep needs a little TLC! It’s about to transport us from the wild into the civilized world. Meanwhile, I’m off to play the adulting game - besides doctors' appointments, it's time to renew that driver’s license and passport since I’ve hit the big five-year milestone. But hey, at least I get to practice my civic duty and cast my vote as a bonus! We found a resort sitter, and this time, it's Beth Carnegie. Thank goodness our neighbors, Brian & Jennifer, had so many kids, and we got to benefit from most of them taking turns helping us out by watching the place for a few days while we top up with supplies.

How lovely is it that we get updates on our Brookie girl? We miss her a lot, but she looks happy ever after right there with Will, Teresa, and Jasper.