Down on the farm

The time has come to sell the cottage.

In this space, I usually talk about my husband’s family place—a magical old-timer on Georgian Bay. But the one that sold this spring has been second home to my kin, the Caldwell clan, for about 30 years. You don’t hear about it because it’s not actually a cottage, though it’s in the heart of the Kawarthas and there are similarities—the septic system, for example, or the fact that one year we had four generations visiting there together.

The old house sits on rural farmland, hemmed on one side by a spring-fed pond, on the other by a field of apple trees, at the back by a barn and, behind that, a beaver pond and dam. There’s a shed and a tractor and, while it does have a more formal name, we’ve always called it simply The Farm.

I sometimes wonder how many readers of Cottage Life own landlocked rural properties—farms, or cabins in the woods—rather than waterfront cottages. Despite their differences, both have great stories to share.

Recently, the parents of a fellow editor here sold their cottage. My colleague told me that once the turmoil of moving out was over, and once the cottage was gone, he realized his family was still around. It’s an obvious conclusion to be sure, but if you’ve been through the experience, you’ll recognize how it can feel like an epiphany. Sue Davis-McPhaden came to the same conclusion. After she read Jay Teitel’s story “The Cottage That Got Away” in the May ’09 issue,  she wrote in a letter to Cottage Life: “It took me many years to realize that when it comes to the family cottage, it is not the place itself that really matters, as all cottages change with time and new ownership. It is the all-important word ‘family’ that precedes it.”

I’ll keep you posted on our progress over the next few weeks till we finally leave The Farm. Meanwhile, please share your own stories with me in the comments below.

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Posted in Cottage real estate,Family