It has been a minute, well 245,100 minutes actually, but my computer was so old I couldn't upload photos, and though I was swimming up a storm, all my words were funnelled into novel writing, and kids' book writing and then the fall happened and transitioning Kid #1 to kindergarten was much more exhausting than I anticipated...Excuses, excuses. I have been writing blog posts in my head every time I swim and now that I've got a fancy new computer, it's time to write them onto a computer.

I don't know if it's the grey skies and the slushy puddles, but I've been dreaming of  last summer's exceptional swims – three of them primarily: a road trip swim date with my oldest kid at this lovely swimming hole, a dip off Hanlan's Point in August with my tow float from my UK mermaid pals...



...and our first tear-free family lake swim even later in August. I was worried the water would be cold as the morning's clocked in at a chilly 8 degrees, but the water was so warm. There was a mama bear spotting at the point I usually swam to, so I switched up my route and stayed closer to the cottage after realizing that swimming bear encounters are my ultimate fear.


Over the Christmas holidays, my not-always-into-swimming kid declared he wanted to go swimming, so of COURSE I dropped everything, dug out our suits and flew up to the pool for a morning family dip. The family swim times don't always jive with kid naps, but we found a morning slot and had so much fun! On our winter fun list is more family swims!

And with this renewed collective love of swimming, I started plotting summer swims. We're renting a new cottage this summer (on THIS lake, that I grew up swimming in!), and I've already put our Island swim/picnic adventure into the calendar.

To summer swimming, even if it is still February!

I grew up at my grandparent's cottage near Minden, just west of Haliburton. There are more lakes than you can count up there, and if you're ever passing by Wedgewood Marina, know that 12 Mile Lake has all of my childhood memories.

This summer, my wee family rented a cottage nearby-ish – on Buckskin Lake near Tory Hill, Ontario. It was hands down the most perfect week in recent memory and I'm so grateful we were able to swim and canoe and nap on the dock day in and day out. Note: finding cottages should be an Olympic sport, so if you haven't got one in the family/be sure to start befriending those with cottages ASAP and/or start looking to rent one in February!

If you happen to find yourself wandering the roads in the Kawarthas/Bancroft area, I've got four suggestions for you:



1). It took forever to get to the cottage we had rented – every highway we tried to take was closed, so we wandered along back roads and ate roadside popsicles and handfuls of front seat chips. But the highlight was finding The World's Smallest Bookstore and pulling a screeching U-turn to fill the extra inches of room we had in the car with more books. I could've spent the weekend there – books are $3, and it's an honour system. If you're passing through Kinmount, I highly recommend a stop! And in keeping with the swimming theme, I picked up a brilliant collection of Lisa Moore's short stories with a swimmer on the cover!



2). Go to Bancroft, buy the brightest beach towels at the Stedman's, then visit Winnie's Treasure Shop. My grandfather's dear friend Hing owns it and it is full of local stones and gems. Tell him Ruth and Doug's granddaughter sent you. Be sure to check out the local sodalite – a dark blue stone, streaked with white that reminds me of the milky way.




3). Even if the skies are grey and the rain is threatening to fall, have a picnic in Cheddar, Ontario, because, well, CHEESE!

4). Hit up every Kawartha Dairy you can. Summers are short and ice cream cones change everything.

You know you're having the best week ever when the deck railing is strung up with damp beach towels – the best kind of bunting – your hair starts dreading with lake water, and the only thing on your to-do list is make docktails for happy hour.

And that is what my last week has been.

My little family rented a cottage on Buckskin Lake and I packed my cottage clothes (aka two bathing suits, my So You Think You Can Dance Canada track pants and my falling apart at the seams Orange Crush t-shirt) and dove head first into cottage living.

I swam at least once a day, took the canoe out (my kid's first canoe ride!), ate dinners cooked over a fire, ate my weight in s'mores, leapt off the dock with wild abandon at least 16 times a day, wrote with a view of a mama loon feeding her babies fish from the shallows, listened to Moose FM all day long, marvelled at the kadrillions of stars, and had the most delicious docktails every. single. day. (French 75s are my new go-to. Lemon, gin and prosecco? ALL THE YES!)



There was a family of loons that lived next door, frogs that enamoured my 17-month-old, water skaters that left tiny concentric circles on the water that from a certain angle looked like rain and a beaver that had team-meetings with the loons in the late afternoon.



The lake was deep and clear and remarkably warm. Every day I'd take off from the dock, cross the lake and swim along the far shoreline where there were no cottages, just Crown land. I'd tell myself the loons were busy napping and would stay clear of the lily pads so nothing pulled me under. One-two-three-breath and trees and trees and trees. One-two-three-breath and sky and sky and sky.

It is the swim I will do over and over again before I fall asleep in the heart of February.

I already miss the lake, the pace of my heart up there and I'm protesting being back by not washing one shirt that still smells like campfire and not washing the lake water out of my hair. I'll have to wash my hair one of these days, but I'm hoping that until the end of the summer when I lie down, I'll still be able to feel the lilt of the floating dock.