Day 15 - Leaving the Bruce

Saturday, September 17th

We'd left most of the cleaning for the morning. I wasn't happy about having to clean the cottage -- even in cheap motels someone else does the cleaning. But apparently this is cottage culture. Ian pointed out that when you own a cottage, you spend the last day cleaning. Amazingly we got out of the cottage by 9:30 a.m. This is quite a record for us. Between 8 and 9:30, we'd packed my car, cleaned the kitchen and bathroom counters, finished all of the dishes, and vacuumed the entire cottage.

We visited the Harvest Moon Tea Garden and Bakery on the way to John and Julie's. It was a lot like I would have expected -- hippie-run with a New Age feel. The "Garden" was an outdoor seating area with a garden atmostphere. We each got some pastries -- a pecan pie each and a pastie for me. The coffee was quite good - rich and strong.

Julie's Trials

When we arrived at John and Julie's, John was happily working outside, but Julie was inside wearing her housedress, in a state of aggravation. John directed me to go inside and visit with her. Julie said that she'd been trying to pull herself together this morning but was having a tough go of it. She has assorted health issues, some of which are related to aging, and some which are not. To treat these conditions she must take several medications, each of which is costly if not insured.

Although many Americans admire Canada for its universal health care system, even the Canadian system is becoming more expensive for its users. Julie explained to me that one by one the government is removing medications from its list of covered prescriptions. She has experienced a previously-free medication suddenly costing hundreds of dollars per month. She could find no logic to explain why any given drug is dropped at any particular time. She had also recently had cataract surgery, one eye at a time. This had involved quite a few trips back and forth to the hospital for the surgery and then followup exams.

On top of health and financial concerns, she had been completely overwhelmed by a steady stream of guests over the entire summer. She felt that she could not refuse company when they were coming from as far away as England or the American South.

There had been no break between guests, and one guest stayed for an entire week. While the guests had been helpful, no amount of help can ease the strain of playing constant host for several months. I could not imagine surviving (or permitting) such a condition and asked her why she'd allowed it. She admitted that others tell her she should learn to say "no", but she wasn't able to do so this summer. After we'd discussed it off and on, she agreed that next summer she would set limits.

A Spot 'o Tea

Soon Ian and John joined us. The battery had charged successfully and we had a running Nissan. To help show our gratitude, I'd brought the Harney's "Hot Cinnamon Spice" tea I'd promised John last night. He had proposed to brew a pot which we could share today. Although I suggested he let the tea take its time brewing in order to enjoy the greatest possible flavor, John became impatient to have the tea after five minutes or so, and poured three mugs.

The four of us sat down together in their formal living room. I tasted the tea and found it to be a very weak cousin to the tea I brew. It didn't have the sweeter character which seems to come from being brewed for a long time.

The four of us talked companionably for awhile. Once the tea was gone, we moved into the kitchen, preparing to leave John and Julie in peace. But then we continued to talk and then two side conversations got started. After a few rounds of "Well, we should go", we finally did say our goodbyes. In the meantime John had given Ian his email address. They encouraged us to keep in touch and to come see them the next time we visit the Bruce.

We were both happy to have made some friends on the Bruce. It was likely we'd return, and we liked the Bruce well enough to consider it when looking for a cottage of our own.

Leaving the Bruce and Canada

Before we left the Peninsula, however, we passed through Lion's Head one last time on our way to the Rush Cove parking area, where I thought the lost watch must be (since it didn't seem to be anywhere else). I did not really expect to find it, but I felt that I must try since it was not mine. As expected, I did not find it.

Ian and I had decided not to try to caravan or stop halfway back home to touch base. Nevertheless, I followed him for quite a few miles, happy to drive on autopilot, not trying to pass. I was disappointed when he finally turned off the road to get gas, but it did not really make sense for me to wait and then to caravan. We had a long way to go.

I found the drive along Highway 6 and then Highway 21(?), both two-lane roads, to be monotonous, yet not very meditative. Canadians in this part of the country are fairly law-abiding where speed limits are concerned. Most other drivers exceeded the speed limit to some extent, but I wanted to exceed it more, which meant that I spent a lot of time passing.

After several hours I noticed Lake Huron off to my right. As I took a break on the beach, I noticed that it did not differ much from Lakes Superior or Michigan, except that its water was not clear like Superior's. Although I was glad I'd stopped I did not linger. I still had a long way to go.

I found that Canadians on four-lane highways are less obedient of speed limits. I was passed more than I passed. I was tiring and felt less desire to race my neighbors to my destination. At long last, Sarnia was upon me, meaning that the bridge to the US, and hence US Customs, was close at hand. I dug out my wallet and located my birth certificate in the glove box. We'd heard that birth certificates were recommended, and that passports would be required in several years.

I was once again flumoxed by how few questions the customs agent asked. I displayed my driver's license, but he did not take it from me for closer inspection. He asked only "Citizenship?", "Did you bring anything back from Canada?", and "Did you bring back any beef products or fruits or vegetables?" I had expected more of an interogation but he seemed quite unconcerned. Once again I wondered whether a woman traveling alone raises little suspicion.

Culture Shock back in the States

The rest of the drive was hellish. The highways between Port Huron (on the US side of the border) and Ann Arbor are fast-moving, dangerously-driven, and badly maintained. Worse yet, the pastoral landscape I'd left was replaced by all that was least attractive about the US. The endless highways, strip malls, industrial sites, and urban sprawl were an unpleasant welcome back to the States. I pitied any poor Canadian who might be seeing the US for the first time via this route. My exhaustion level climbed dramatically and my mood sank. I was eager to arrive home, but was not especially happy to be back.

At home, I retreated to my garden to harvest peppers and rescue my basil from untold numbers of flowering stalks. The sounds of the neighborhood, which usually bring me peace and happiness after a hard day's work, now sounded like a noisy din. It felt closed-in and crowded. I wished I were back in Canada. On top of that, I realized that Ian and I had forgotten our anniversary. It had been on Friday; we'd unwittingly spent it with John and Julie trying to get our dead car started. I wondered what was to become of us, whether this would be our last anniversary. My mood sank further.

Rediscovering my Beloved Town

But when Ian came home, I persuaded him to have dinner in town at our favorite bar. As we passed our evening in town, eating and talking, then walking up Liberty St. to the University district, I was reminded over and over of all the things I loved about living in Ann Arbor. I had no illusions of being ready to chuck it all and live out in the country. As much as I enjoyed retreating for a few weeks, for now I belong in a vibrant town like Ann Arbor. I need the stimulation and the variety. I was finally happy to be home, and more important, happy to have spent an entire evening with my beloved husband.
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