Maybe you Can Come Home Again!

Back in the day, as David likes to say, our summer guests would come for four to six weeks during the season. That of course was before all the labour saving devices and Jetson technologies were invented to make our lives more filled with leisure...

It was great. Especially for us kids... We grew up together. We got into endless trouble together. Seems like folks worried less and played more...

And one of those families that stayed most of the summers, year after year, was the McLarens. Last week, Gord McLaren dropped by -- it's been probably thirty years, maybe more since life pulled him out of childhood and away from summers at Bondi, but he and his wife Cathy were in the area and felt they simply had to stop by.

Gord went walkabout -- he remembered staying in several of the cottages, and while a great deal has changed, a greater deal remains, and we shared a whole lot of memories while walking along the beach, remembering Cook-outs of Years Gone By, when the fire-pit was practically on top of the dock, and other adventures.

There was the time, for instance, when the Cooke boys, Rick and Don, set up a tent on top of the hill for a little outdoor adventure while their parents were staying in Beaver. Paul Tapley and Don Cooke, their dad, snuck up there during the night with an old saw-horse and a bear skin. Draped the bearskin over the saw-horse and -- yep, you can see where this is going -- waited. Just as dawn was breaking and nature was nudging the boys out of bed, there was one long prolonged howl from the hilltop. As Brian remembers the scene, the pair only took about four big footsteps returning to the cottage. No doubt the fathers had scarred these kids for life, but it was fun.

Some of the capers we just don't dare repeat. But the Great Coon Hunt... now, that one lived on in history -- and in Gord's memory. Raccoons now have reputations of being cute little bandits, but if you've ever had to clean up after them, you might change your tune. Back then, with no municipal garbage dump and a lot less environmental awareness, raccoons were more than a small nuisance. The men-folk got out the guns, and four raccoons were removed from the scene. Which is when the kids all arrived on the scene.

Gord didn't quite believe when I told him we had a photo of that... so here it is. That would be Brian, holding the gun... (and yes, I'm in the picture too... omg!!! But I hasten to add that I don't remember it very clearly!) With us, John and Randy Foster, Dennis Bradford (who's coming to stay with us in September, after a long absence also!) Don Cooke, Gord, and Rick Cooke.

We also stood by the main dock, reminiscing about the year when the Rock Cut on Port Cunnington Road was dynamited. We all gathered to watch the occasion. I stood there, watching, at a location my Dad thought would be safe. When it blew, rocks from the detonation came through the deck of one of the cedar strip boats tied up at the main dock... A little belated, Dad suggested we all move back. We still have that boat. And it still has the patch on the deck from the rock. Good times!


Those were the days! It was great to welcome Gord and his wife back to Bondi. Like all families with great memories, it's as if they've never really left, and we hope they'll come and stay with us again, to forge some new memories that are just as precious.