Life in Cowtown

The house that my awesome in-laws live in is a simple bungalow on a cliffy edge of the lake.  

Perched comfortably close to the shore it has just enough yard to maintain a small and very productive vegetable garden. And some years they get to start planting in MARCH!!! While I’m lucky if I get my tomatoes outside by June something… ahem, pardon the tangent.

I love this butterfly, made by a local artisan of whom there are several in the area.

The house is simple and stylish, with a wood stove, lake water, and framed with my mother-in-laws awesome quilts, that *I* think she should sell on ebay, but she says take too long to make.

Psychedelic

The rear of the house is pretty much all glass to take advantage of the view which often takes my breath away. The lake never stays the same going from a glassy smoothness to an angry chop, accompanied by incredible sky panoramas. Imagine drinking your coffee on this deck and watching the lake and the eagles gliding lazily overhead. No words can explain the tranquility and something in me is flat out awed at the beauty.

View from the window

Wooden steps lead down to the water which is best enjoyed from a boat since the deep lake never gets warm enough for me to even consider swimming in. A cool splash on a sweltering day? Sure. A dip, no thank you. We used to take a canoe down to the water, but now we have a kayak to enjoy, and let me tell you, kayaking on a gorgeous lake is one of the best ways to spend time in the whole world.

Steps to the water

And of course there is the time to hang out with their huge and wonderful Australian shepherd dog Mysqua, who adopted them over a vigorous campaign one year. See she used to belong to a couple living nearby, and did not really receive the attention and training she deserved. Blessed with size and heft – she’s over 100 lbs easy, she quickly became too unruly for the owners to bother with, and she did as she pleased. What she pleased to do is go over to my in-laws house and hang out with their departed dog Kelsey. To accomplish this she would vigilante out of her yard and come over to hang out with her friend. They had two older animals at the time, and had less than no desire to take on a new boisterous dog, one that was very smart, but also untrained and full of energy. But the universe and Mysqua worked their magic and one day the owners came over to see if they’d consider adopting her. And eventually they did. They trained her and walked her and shed a ton of attention on her, and she is a wonderful addition to the family. No fool she, she knew how to pick ‘em.

Mysqua

Her buddy Kelsey

But the overarching point of these two posts is not just to showcase an amazing place to live for those lucky enough to do so, but also to lament to the fact that our cities can be such ugly and soul sucking places. And they don’t have to be. The world teems with examples of cities and towns that do very well with urban planning and create beautiful places to live and work, and intermix nature into the desing instead of paving her over with concrete. There is something in us that yearns for natural places, the beauty of the wild, and something in us gets restored when we commune with it.  Even most vacations are centered around nature – tropical beaches, green golf grounds, rugged ski hills. We head out to the parks and campgrounds. When we go there we come back recharged and refreshed. It’s a shame not to be able to live in such a way that a gorgeous view greets you in the morning.  My garden as fun as it is simply does not compare, or it is not enough to fulfill that urge. So I drive to places like the Kootenay Lake and get sad when I have to say goodbye. Do you have a special spot that restores your soul? Are you lucky enough to live in one?

Going back

 PS I also wanted to mention a blog by an area photographer which showcases the incredible beauty of the area, and whose wildlife, unlike myself, he consistently manages to capture.

http://kootenay-lake.ca/

One of my favorite places in the world is my in-laws house. Nestled on a quiet rocky shoreline of the majestic Kootenay lake it is a strong visual reminder that nature heals. The incredible beauty of the area and laid back lifestyle of the citizens is such a contrast to our daily life that the six hour drive often feels like an intergalactic trip to a different planet. Calgary suffers badly from urban sprawl, with a foot print larger than New York and cookie-cutter neighborhoods popping up like mushrooms on the edges of the city. There are huge chunks of land set aside for parks, but the neighborhoods are still plagued with the sameness of new urban construction. We are close to the mountains, but the city itself firmly sits on the windswept prairie at a high altitude. Our summers are short, our vegetation is often dry and shriveled and the city is cloaked in shades of gray and brown and concrete as far as the eye can see.  So it makes sense that I am drawn to lush, green spaces, with colors and life and water and gardening seasons that begin before June.

For me the magic begins at Creston. A small mountain town just 11 km from the US border, it consists of a main street flanked by an old grain elevator, an ever changing plethora of shops and restaurants and many organic farms. The highway curves through town and dips down to edge the hill that overlooks the farming valley below, with the mountain range on your right. The road to the house is a drivers delight – tight turns with banked corners, hardly any traffic, and amazing scenery. Steep russet cliff walls and wild raspberries lining the edges. Here and there the trees lining the road drop off revealing amazing views of the deep glacier fed lake.

There is also the local oddity called the Glass House. Built entirely from embalming fluid bottles by an eccentric David Brown, it’s a full small house with a castle feel to it, and surrounded by flowers.  He drove around the country collecting the bottles and you can visit the house during summer hours to reflect on that endeavor.

Every few kilometers there is a spot to pullover, take a break and enjoy the scenery, or dip down to the water. The views are simply amazing, tranquil and quite often you’ll see deer, foxes or bears ambling along to get a drink at the water’s edge. But never when you have a camera, that’s a rule they have. There is even a lovely wooden bridge you get to cross, although as we speak they are tearing it down and replacing it with concrete. I personally feel that all wooden bridges should be preserved, but it’s likely the maintenance is steep. After about fifty kilometers you arrive at the sharp turnoff, so small and steep you’ll likely miss it, and reach the green fence which you have to get out of the car to open. The air is amazing here, piney and fresh and intensely sweet with greenery.

Driftwood beach

Sand beach

Farewell wooden bridge!

Part 2 – tomorrow.

Photo by merfam on Flickr

So each year we get bombarded with free unwanted presents from the Yellow Pages phone book fairy. Each year a thick brick-like tome ends up darkening my doorstep despite the many ‘Save The Trees’ and ‘No Junk Mail’ flyers. Either the fairy can’t read or she thinks a new set of phone books surely disqualifies her from such petty concerns as our forests.

And each year I look at it, slap my forehead and go ‘Duh’.

Well no more. This year I weaseled out the magic number out of the Yellow Pages group and wanted to share it with the world. Ready?