The Cottage

We always referred to the house as "The Cottage". It wasn't very fancy nor was it very large. There was no heat, no hot water, no shower, and no foundation (until later). In the early years the cottage was painted barn red with white trim. There was a flagstone walk up to the front door and a small stoop with a roof over it.
The front door opened into a large room known as the dining room with a big oval shaped dining table in the middle. To the left of this room was the living room, and to the right of the dining room was a small kitchen followed by a screened porch. The second floor of this rectangular structure was basically a dormitory. At the top of the stairs was a big room filled with beds. Two old iron double beds, and two narrow twin size beds, or cots, with one open closet in the middle. At one end was my parents room which had two double beds, a crib, a dresser and a nightstand. At their bedroom door was a white curtain which they pulled shut at night so they could have a little privacy. The other end of the second floor was what we called the "sleeping porch". It contained four army cots, covered with army blankets and this is where the four oldest boys slept. All the floors upstairs were wood which were painted gray. When we had a rain storm at night, my parents would go around closing the windows which ran all along the sides of the second floor. I used to love the sound of rain on the roof and felt so comforted by Mom and Dad going around to the windows and stopping to pull blankets up around us.
Every June, as we walked into the cottage for the first time, we were enveloped by the unmistakable smell that is hard to describe, but is a combination of wind, dust, water, sand, trees, fish, gulls, shells, old books, the sun the moon and the stars.
We would immediately take in the familiar items that live in the cottage: the old black and white photos hanging on the wall in the dining room, the old caps and straw hats on the wooden pegs behind the front door, the checkers game and playing cards on the bookshelves, the poker chip carousel, the large wall map of Lake Erie, that had a red circle drawn around Luna Pier with the words "we are here" written in red nail polish, big shells that were used as ashtrays, and the cardboard box that contained dozens of vintage postcards sent by family and friends from travels near and far.
In the kitchen was the cookie jar in the shape of a smiling cat and a milk glass dish shaped like a hen with a red hat and red beak. Everything was always the same and in it's proper lace, even the salt and pepper shakers. This is what was so calming about the cottage, that constancy and sameness that made it uniquely ours, where we were free to enjoy the sights and fun and sounds of summer.
We had a counter that overlooked the kitchen and this was known as the "bar". It had four yellow wooden stools and on regular week nights, we four youngest kids (Steve, Emilie, Chris, and me) ate our dinners there. It was the perfect spot to see everything that was going on and a great perch to watch my mother. She was a great cook and I used to love to visit with her while she prepared meals on a daily basis, but I especially enjoyed the weekends. This was when we had relatives and friends up to the cottage for boat rides and dinner. There was fried chicken, potato salad, huge trays of watermelon, fresh corn and tomatoes, deviled eggs, pies, and ice cream. I learned to love cooking by watching her at the cottage.
Here's one of her favorite recipes:
( I memorized this recipe as a girl and still make it today. I would call it a spread rather than a dip. It's delicious and always a crowd pleaser.)

Blue Cheese Dip
1 (3-ounce) package cream cheese, softened
1 (3 ounce) package blue cheese, softened
1/4 cup butter, softened
1 tablespoon brandy
Combine cream cheese, blue cheese, and butter; beat at medium speed of an electric mixer until smooth. Add brandy, mixing well. Serve with crackers or sliced apples or pears.
Enjoy!