magic cottage

	The Magic Cottage A short tour Nestled among an expansive valley, the village of Flesherton serves as inspiration and provides refuge for a vast congregation of talented artists. In the winter is resembles a charming ski village, partially due to ski hills being a mere ten minute drive. During the 1960's a well know Canadian painter purchased a charming but run down hotel for a work/live studio. Visiting friends and city dwellers marveled at the beauty of the area, and balked at the minimal price of real estate, they soon followed. With a small population of 700, it is rumoured that 300 of those are visual artists and craftspeople.
	My urge to experience a rural lifestyle was influenced by all of my favourite authors. May Sarton, Henry Miller, Colette, all sing the praises of living amidst nature on a daily basis. It seemed to provide a strong "spiritual" foundation for them and I felt the urge for a calming atmosphere to counter the affects of living in an urban environment for many years. I enjoyed the serendipity, culture and energy the city offered, but I was curious about cutting out the visual, auditory, and olfactory distractions that went along with it. As an artist, I wanted to find out what I wanted to express, what would happen if I took away the city influence?
	The Magic Cottage was built around 1890, the exact date unknown. Located in town it is a small one and a half story, (meaning the top floor has sloping ceilings.) It has a real 1930's feel to it due to it's various renovations during that time. The walkway guides you to the back of the house to a small porch. A purple door leads into the summer kitchen/mudroom which we use as the main entrance, beside it are my snowshoes which become necessary for walks in the woods at this time of year. The warm kitchen is small but inviting, there is usually fresh herbs being grown in the window and soup simmering on the stove. (I believe soup is the elixir of the gods, with strong healing and creative properties.) Beside a large window is a built-in breakfast nook, the floor is covered in old checkered linoleum tiles, (a happy find in a nearby tile store!) Framed images present gleaming kitchen appliances from the 30's.
	The dining room is furnished with a large rustic table made from wood salvaged from a 200 year old church in Quebec. I love wood that has a history. It is a table that begs to have people around it. All the chairs and much of the furniture was harvested from garbage picking, they all have slight imperfections which I have learned to embrace. The living room is off to the north and it one of the most used rooms in the house due to the wood stove. Many an evening is spent reading here next to the warmth of the fire, surrounded by old bookshelves and cups of tea. The walls are knotty pine which hint once again to the 30's and cause me to feel like I'm in a log cabin at times. Upstairs are two bedrooms, my studio and the bathroom with no shower, (I can only take baths now.) The floors are a wonderful painted wood, oxblood and grey. The master bedroom has a charming view of "my forest" (really just my backyard which is full of ancient pines), and the barn.
	The house sits at the bottom of a hill and is surrounded by several old gardens (many of which I haven't tamed), trees and various areas for sitting. At the top of the hill is a wonderfully flat spot surrounded in the summer by flowering shrubs, rhubarb, apple trees & hydrangeas. This is where we have a circle of chairs and a bonfire pit for evening gatherings. A big maple tree in the middle of the yard holds my purple mayan hammock. There is a large herb garden just outside the entrance to the house and a long bed down the west side holds vegetables and annuals. When it comes to gardening I use the trial and error approach, if you plant it and it grows do it again! Herbs for me have been the most successful, and are tolerant of neglect. As a bonus they are full of sensory treats, I love inviting guests to smell or taste the different varieties.
	The front of the house has a small sun porch which I call the "tea room". A friend donated an old 1920's couch and I found an antique brown wicker chair and table perfect for the cause. This is where I have afternoon tea, nap, write, and listen to the rain. The floor tilts down somewhat to the north, so one of my girlfriends who has vertigo can't stand in it for long. At the back of the lot is a rustic old drive shed/barn that will someday become a winterized studio. It is reputed that is used to house a cow (nicknamed Bessie), the thought of which makes me laugh. Now it is home to many bats and rodents. The name Wesley McCracken is carved in the door.
	My daily routine wouldn't be complete without a trip to get the mail and a coffee break at the local cafe, named "Aggies" after the famous local politician Agnes Macphail (first female member of Parliament in Canada.) Housed in a turn of the century building, (formerly the Richardson's pharmacy since 1873.) it's high ceiling walls are painted in yellow and exposed brick. A fireplace sits in the middle of the large wall to warm the weary traveler on frigid winter days. I usually sit in the window, one side houses two wing back chairs perfect for writing. In the summer we sit at the front sidewalk tables and watch the passing cottage goers. I often enjoy a latte & the occasional sticky bun, and some good conversation with the wide assortment of villagers. In a small town you talk with everyone. At the cafe you can catch up on the latest news, current events, and gossip. The owner Richard Spandlick knows all that goes on. It functions as the real centre of the village, and there is a constant flow of visitors from the city to add to the mix. Like the original artist who "discovered" this place, we have had several close friends join the community. I am always grateful to have other creative people to brainstorm with and to learn from.
	The adventure continues... back