I had always thought of myself as a bit of an athlete and considered myself somewhat fit. I had taken millions of dance classes as a kid and kept it up as a university student and even as a young adult. I used to run cross country and do gymnastics in high school. Of course having three kids in just under 4 years had definitely, completely, totally, wholly and unalterably changed my life. As in, I had no life that even remotely resembled my previous life. Add onto that taking a master’s degree part time and it was no wonder that I had not considered adding any form of an exercise routine to my life! No wonder I was in such sad shape. Hiking these hills, stomping up the stairs, and climbing out of the water and onto the wind surfing board with my son had revealed to me that I was not in any great shape anymore. Camp, it turned out, was pretty physically demanding. Huh. Who knew?
![]() |
http://4.bp.blogspot.com |
Bill and Barb housed their family in the director’s cottage each summer. It used to be a small Catholic church, but had been refashioned into a truly darling bright, little (and by that I mean cramped and austere) residence. I stepped inside the doors into a kitchen area which was likely the altar in days gone by. A small oak kitchen table had coloring books and crayons spread out over it. There was a small vase filled with Milkweeds that grew in abundance along the side of the road. The fragrant aroma of the wild flowers filled the small cottage. To my right was a high kitchen counter with a couple of bar stools. Along the wall to my right was a sink, full of drying dishes, with cabinets above and below. A window above the kitchen sink, with red gingham curtains gently blowing in the breeze, looked out over the upper field, the camp road and the beach to the right. Ahead of me was a sunken family room with a well loved (butt ugly 60’s brown and yellow floral) couch, a (worn out) recliner chair, a coffee table (circa 1950) and a tiny TV/VCR (that only got two channels). Beyond the family room was two small bedrooms and a set up stairs up to a loft. The loft was where the organ once was housed for a choir. Now it was an open-concept master bedroom. Barb poked her head out of a hallway on the right of the cottage.
![]() |
http://www.hauntedamericatours.com |
“You will have to come to the open studio night next week. I am planning it for the counselors and staff. A nice evening of relaxing and throwing a pot or painting!”
That sounded like fun! I had never thrown a pot before and visions of Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze came to mind. I started humming “Unchained Melody”. Barb laughed.
“Here we are!” Barb said as the town sign came into view.
Turned out Roseton was pretty much just two intersections. There was a general store, an ice cream store, a beer/liquor store, a restaurant, three antique stores, a real estate office, a used book store, a coffee and donut shop, and a craft/knick-knack store. We headed towards the general store first.
![]() |
http://www.cottageblog.ca |
The general store was built in 1874. The ancient wooden floor was well worn and creaked beneath my feet as I wandered along the aisles of the store. Products were neatly stocked on wooden shelves. They had a little bit of everything! Fresh fruit and veggies, a meat counter, baked goods, pop, magazines, worms for fishing, water toys, toilet plungers, cleaning products and a large selection of candy. Barb went to get the mail while I grabbed a new magazine, some more ear plugs, a tube of Benadryl cream, a bag of apples, and some fishing hooks. As I passed by the candy display my mouth watered at the thought of candy with peanuts! I grabbed the most peanut-y chocolate bar I could find and then found a half dozen other candies without “may contain” on the packaging. I paid for all of my purchases and then stepped outside the store and rummaged through the bag until I found it. A Neilsen’s Crispy Crunch! I tore open the package and pretty much inhaled the contents. I thoroughly enjoyed all three seconds of it!