201210 Arrival at the vineyard

 dec 8 

We have arrived safely at the vineyard. We both remembered the hill up to the house being much steeper than it really is! Our brave Forester had no trouble getting us to the door. It had snowed here perhaps five inches and the road up to the house and the driveway were snow-covered. Our waiting time to come here passed at last, October and November and then the countdown from December 1st. That's the cool thing about time. It carries you on, past dreaded dental appointments, past difficult days, through waiting until a special day arrives. Our drive here, Highway 401 to the Quebec border then south to the Estrie, was uneventful and quick. We had enough daylight to bring everything in from the car and go for a walk.

Tuesday morning (departure from Toronto) Fig was already waiting in the car while we were having coffee. He knew we were going somewhere and didn't intend to be left behind! He had space on the back seat with his blanket, his favorite stuffed dog and a bone. He does not like riding in the car for long trips, but he will put up with it if that's where I am. For a while he was on my lap (I wasn't driving then) and he relaxed and lay down. He adjusted quickly to the new house, having recently experienced the September holiday here (different house but same idea).

Our closest neighbour is over the hill behind us. Their dog came to greet us on our walk. He is lovely and friendly, big and black, don't know his breed but part Newfoundland, perhaps. Fig insists on protecting us and our house from him and Blackie is quite content to be bossed around; tries to engage Fig in play. I haven't got the nerve to walk up and meet the people; I am hoping for a casual encounter as they pass our place. If that doesn't happen soon, good manners dictate that I introduce myself before too many days have passed. 

Blackie is used to having the run of the place. No-one has lived here for more than a year.

I have taken the room upstairs for now  - it is spacious and bare with only a bed and a bookshelf. I discovered yesterday that there is no electricity up there except in the bathroom! I thought it was a matter of getting some lamps but we tested the sockets with a plug-in light and nothing! All the lamps in the world would be to no avail, but the landlord person will be able to sort that out soon. The room has a balcony looking southwest and french doors to provide daylight and access. I stood out there last night and looked across the dark valley - there wasn't a sound, not a car, not a dog barking, not even wind in the trees. The lights of the town show below us in the south-east. It's a small village, Mansonville, and it feels reassuring to see the warm lights of the homes. From our house we cannot see a single dwelling, which I love, so the comfort I felt in the distant lights surprised me a little. 

K is in the south-facing downstairs bedroom. He has lights. We sleep apart because I snore and he is a light sleeper. It means I can take the dog out at three in the morning (not often necessary!) without disturbing him and he can get up for a nighttime snack without disturbing me.

We are isolating for two weeks, so Rain and Tal are kindly bringing us food. We are "camping out" in some ways, we haven't a single pot or frying pan. We're using the coffee maker for coffee and tea. We can microwave some things, baked beans, veggie burgers, and the like. There are a couple of charity shops near us that I hope will supply some of our needs. 

The house is very nice inside, a bow window in the woodstove room and deep window sills all around the main room, and shelves. My bathroom is all old barn wood and makeshift shelves. The floor throughout is new, probably laminate but looks like natural wood. The real estate person brought in a rug for under the big table where we eat and work, and a smaller one for the woodstove room. I didn't think we'd need them but they provide warmth, literally and ambiently. (Is that a word? my spell-checker says no!) I am grateful for her superior judgement there (the real estate person, not the spell-checker!). She also brought a rocking chair which was indeed a pleasant surprise. The stairs to my loft are steep but even, Fig can go up but he prefers to be carried down. The kitchen and the front room are one big room but a work table makes a sort of boundary. It is becoming the place to prepare veg and fruit, and where the bananas and a few apples live. There are ample cupboards and drawers for food, dishes and utensils. and windows look out east and north so there's light and snow and forest everywhere. A window at the kitchen sink is always a nice thing and this one has a deep sill for a plant and a favorite ornament.

The beauty here is breathtaking. It does seem like the edge of the world. All we can see is field, forest and mountain. The trees are laden with snow, in the distance it looks like mist. Not five minutes go by when I don't stop whatever I'm doing and look out across the world.

Today the clouds are coming up the valley obscuring the distant hills. We are grateful to be able to be here. It is heaven. May we never forget how blessed we are. 

*****

Keep safe: covid-19 is everywhere. It is a frightening disease. 

Thank you for visiting. 

Mumma Yaga