Here’s Chris enjoying my ad-hoc cottage, aka: my parents’ backyard.
I wrote this week’s She Says column on how you should probably invite me to your cottage because I don’t have one (cue: #whitegirlproblem comment trolls). And FYI, I had no idea about the other usage for the term “cottaging.” Yikes.
With the Victoria Day long weekend behind us, the summer season has officially begun.
City dwellers delight in the mass exodus that takes place each sun-filled weekend as urbanites pack up their coolers and head out of town. As a national pastime, cottaging (a uniquely Canadian verb) is on par with wearing plaid shirts and truly believing that this is the year that our team will bring home the Stanley Cup.
I was never one of those fortunate people whose parents invested in a piece of summer property — yes, I know #firstworldproblem. Consequently, I’ve had to make some strategic moves to expand my social circle so that I might have a chance to experience the great outdoors while still enjoying the luxuries of indoor plumbing.
A few years ago, I was unreasonably disappointed when my good friend broke up with her long-time boyfriend whose family owned 3,000 square-feet of lakefront paradise and not one, but two boats. Sure they were never meant to last, but couldn’t she have waited until after Thanksgiving? He had a water trampoline for crying out loud.
Over time, as friends have moved on and moved away, I’ve found the number of annual cottage invites dwindling. And so, I’m going to take this opportunity to make a case for myself as the BEST cottage guest you never asked for.
Continue reading »










