Settling In

Husband has retired from being a SAR Tech. So that's that. 

We've moved to a sweet little spot on the Saint Lawrence River. A sleepy little town where all the chimneys puff white smoke in the mornings and a little exploring on snowshoe in the back fields has revealed that in the summer I will be surrounded by old orchards, rambling hedges overgrown with lilac, ancient and forgotten raspberry patches, and at least three secret ponds which will certainly turn the Meeker twit green. 

The area is quite lovely. Cornwall insists that it is a vital city on the mouth of the river, with many wonderful things to recommend it to visitors and settlers alike. It certainly has a pretty waterfront and a friendly downtown. It's also close enough to some bigger cities with bigger budgets, for festivals, things to do on the weekend, and Ikea, and not so far away that it takes three days to get a part for the Volvo. 

We are smitten with our new home town and not least because many of our neighbours are direct descendants of the British soldiers and Loyalists who set fire to a famously white house just over 200 years ago. How many Canadians can say that? We'll skirt over the fact that they also set fire to the Library of Congress and all 3000 volumes it contained, and focus instead on the knowledge that that little bonfire represents the only time in American history that their capitol was occupied by an enemy force. 

And the cheese here is so cheap.

Getting settled is taking some time. The house is in good shape, but finding homes for all of our things is always tricky. Often it's a matter of "just leave it in the box and we'll probably use it in the next place." The thing is, this is the last next place. If it's not used here, it will never be used, so it's time to toss the crate of creepy china dolls, boxes of surplus shoes and (dare I say it?) the sectional to the curb. More room for a sweet new paddle board and a fat bike. 

This blog, which began the day we left Ontario a decade ago, was intended as a letter to our future selves, recording our adventures. 

I've determined that our adventure is not over, despite the fact that we have settled in Cornwall, Ontario. I know this to be true because any day in which you see or do or learn something new is an adventure.

Why, just yesterday Husband learned that tire pressure is inversely proportional to the amount of control required to prevent one from crashing a fat bike into a tree.