Uncle Rupert let me borrow his snowshoes to check on a couple cottages I look after. I had never used snowshoes before. Can you say, “buns of steel?” Who needs those fancy video workout programs.? It was all I could do to get back in the car.
Where's the Advil? Trying to get out of bed the next day was, shall we say, challenging. Perhaps there is a lesson to be learned here. I should get out more.
The cottages were basking in glorious sun. They smiled with glee as I tromped around all sides, chatting them up.
“Now how are your windows, Mr. North side? Any leaks around the chimney, Junior? How are your pipes doing? Any little creepers cruising the kitchen? I see your trees have behaved this winter — well done.”
“And how are your roofs doing — carrying the load OK?” Very good.
And last but not least: “Spring is just around the corner; the snow will go away and soon I can take your blinders off.”
“Enjoy the sun, isn't it lovely?” “Yes, thanks for the offer. I will sit a moment here on the porch. Nice of you to offer.
“I'm glad you have been OK — you look good — it’s nice to see you.”
I dozed off, with my snowshoes on, to the sound of small waves tumbling in between the rocks and sliding back. The sun made all the difference.