Alison Garwood Jones

You know you’re a writer if you’re energized by your observations.

Gay Talese, the journalist who made a career profiling ordinary folk (doormen, dishwashers, busboys, billboard caretakers), always said, You can’t fake interest.”

Nor can you fake the depth of knowledge that comes from directly experiencing something.

My advice to budding writers (thanks to Talese) is to hang out and take notes. Then type them up and see what you’ve got.

Kawartha Observations

Wine tastes fine from a children’s plastic cup.

Pool noodles make great armchairs.

Lake grass will always wrap around your ankles like an octopus.

Lake swimming is more therapeutic than the Calm app, yoga, and running combined.

Fish won’t eat the end of a pork sausage. Watch it just float away.

Ice cream is a food group.

Poor internet connectivity is a glorious thing.

Half of Canada is a giant domed rock with sharp or smooth edges depending on where the water flows.

Fall leaves are two months ahead of schedule.

Old, abandoned cottages are a surprisingly painful sight.

A loon is a bird with the most advanced swimming badges.

People with cottages on tiny islands don’t always wave at passing boaters.

“No Wake” doesn’t apply to speedboats and jet skies.

Marine gas stations that say “open” may not be.

It helps to know upstream from downstream.

Underwater boulders chuckle at passing boat bellies.

It rains sideways, not down.

Anchors only work sideways, never down (like in cartoons).

Rainbows arch across entire lakes.

Parks Canada lock masters are outstanding Canadians.

If a water tap spits out tea, it’s not potable.

Two-ply toilet paper is the height of  luxury.

Cornflowers, goldenrod and Queen Anne’s lace make a pretty dinette arrangement.

Most amateur fishermen aren’t peeping toms. Your boat just took their spot at the end of the dock under the “No Fishing” sign.

At bedtime, ear plugs block out bugs.

Flying insects bank away from nostrils at the last minute if noses are dabbed with bug spray.

Spiders can fly. Wait … what?

Young people are happiest when they’re busy scooping ice cream, pumping gas, selling firewood, looping mooring lines, and running BLTs with piles of steaming, hot fries. In their off hours, you can find them doing cannonballs off the town bridge.

Whoever came up with boat towel clips is right up there with the inventor of fairy lights.

You can get in your steps by walking into town for chips and wine.

Wave hello to all the American loopers,* then welcome them to Canada.

The grief and nostalgia you’re feeling for lost friends and family and summers long gone is softened by a glass of rosé at sundown.

*Boat loopers are recreational boaters who navigate the 9700 km continuous loop of waterways, rivers and canals that connect the Eastern U.S. and Canada.