We weren’t long across the border and into Canada when we
had to push farther into the north. It
wasn’t pleasant crossing into winter to begin with. Snow still made its presence known in
leftover piles on lawns and parking lots. Ice still held Lake Erie and many
other smaller lakes hostage. The temperature refused to nudge up into the
comfortable-without-winter-coats range.
But we had been persuaded to travel back to the town that we
left when we first retired. This was a “kick back and relax” type of visit – at
least for me. Hubby had to get up at 6 every morning and get into what passes
for rush hour traffic in this neck of the woods - very few slowdowns, unless a
deer crosses in front of you. Quite a pleasant change after experiencing
Toronto traffic all last summer.
Deep River was quick to welcome us with cold biting winds
and an early morning dump of snow.
Hubby tried to take the snow off the truck
with several handy items: his sleeve, his hat, and as a last resort, his bare
hands (we haven’t had gloves for awhile).
He even tried an emergency trip to the nearby Giant Tiger only to find
bathing suits and flip-flops displayed on the shelves. Finally a Canadian Tire employee helped him
locate a snow brush hiding in the very back of their store.
This has not been an unhappy return, however. Many friends
have greeted us with surprise and pleasure, and the laid back and open attitude
of the town has been a welcome relief after travelling to areas where porch
furniture is chained down and pictures of guns are prominently displayed in
windows to deter burglars. We fell back,
way too quickly, into the habit of not locking our doors when off on errands.
Our first week was spent in the downtown hotel. Man, had we
been spoiled by our previous experiences of hotels in Toronto and other larger
centers. This was a small town hotel, and its room size reflected that. It was
pretty telling that we felt crowded in that hotel suite after living
comfortably all winter in a 27’ trailer.
We didn’t need to be convinced to spend time outdoors, even
if we did have to wear winter coats and brand new gloves. We walked around the
town and down by the waterfront, pointing out both the familiar and the new.
The trees were still dormant and the river still frozen, but people were
telling us that it was finally spring. How can they tell?
I had forgotten how cold the tap water is in this town. Although it can be refreshing on summer days,
the first evening, brushing my teeth caused a brain freeze. It was a quick reminder to run both the cold
and hot taps for my morning ablutions.
After seven days, we relocated to a small house. Very small,
but at least four times bigger than the “suite” we were in. We shared the
property with a family of skunks. Not willingly, mind you. At first we tried to
block off the space under the gate so they couldn’t get back in after their
nightly sojourns, but their prowess in digging was better than ours in finding
obstacles. By the time the first week was over, we put up the white flag
and resigned ourselves to sharing the back yard. Very carefully.
Slowly, the massive snow dump by the grocery store became
more hill than mountain. The ice on the river disintegrated and the water rose
to cover the marina pier. My daily walks around the town were more pleasant and
less hurried. The gloves could be discarded. Again. We used the barbeque on the back porch,
and enjoyed the company of our new co-resident, a red squirrel.
There will be spring this year after all.
